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twistedmusings · 3 years

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Doing Anything for Heat

“Do you always refer to yourself in third person when writing these up?”

“Legalities, Prefect, although I do not expect you to know anything about that.”

Guess who can’t write as much anymore because she got a nasty bite at work! So yes, I was working on requests so diligently and then bam--this happens.

As an apology for my late ass writings, please take this mini scenario for the Octavinelle Trio! Azul’s SSR card got translated and I just...god I love these boys so much q wq Reader: [G/N] Warnings: Casual flirting, possessive thoughts from all the boys and just MC striking up a contract with Azul and taking a very creative approach towards it~

“[Y/N]!!!!” Grimm pulls at your arm as you sit down across from Azul, the man holding out a contract to you as he tilts his head with a smile. “What will it be, Prefect?”

Your hands sweat as you rub them on your legs. “Hehe~ Little Shrimp looks so scared~”

The contract is placed in front of you slowly, Azul taking care of minding his manners as you lean back and go over the simple specifications. Made simpler, of course, since Azul had ‘such’ a kind heart.

What a con artist.

Winter was hitting Night Raven College hard but was hitting Ramshackle even harder.

How many blankets had you bought from Sam’s shop? Ten? Twenty? You honestly didn’t know but you and Grimm were close to freezing some night and you had just about enough of living in an ice cube for a dorm.

You were acting out of desperation.

And, ever the businessman, Azul had stretched out his hand for your unfortunate soul.

“Bring sixty customers during our lunch rush tomorrow and Azul Ashengrotto will personally see that a heater is installed in Ramshackle the same day.”

You put the contract down and look him in the eye. “Do you always refer to yourself in third person when writing these up?”

“Legalities, Prefect, although I do not expect you to know anything about that.”

Great, more insults towards your intelligence.

Sixty customers. If you were to break that down it would be ten from each dorm not counting Octavinelle. You could rope Ace and Deuce to come, guilt trip Jack for not helping you with that assignment due last night, kindly ask Epel to make his way over here and maybe if you promised Sebek that you would listen to him rant about his dorm leader he would reluctantly agree.

But that wouldn’t be near enough.

Azul clicks his tongue while Jade speaks up, “We will have to take that answer today, [Y/N]-san. If not, I guess maybe we could let you take some blankets from Octavinelle--”

“Fine! Fine.” you sign your name on the dotted line and hand the contract back to Azul, the other grinning as he handed it towards his right-hand man. “How wonderful! I’ll be waiting with baited breath to see what you bring us tomorrow~”

You give Azul the fakest smile you can muster, waving goodbye to the twins as you make your way out of the lounge with Grimm by your side. “Fgnaaa~! We are screwed! [Y/N] how could you! We are going to be stuck waiting tables for ETERNITY now!”

“Not if we bring them what they asked for.” you bite your bottom lip as you look at the Monstro Lounge, your eyes falling on the small stage.

Oh right. Some students played here. Well, students deemed worthy enough to play. You remember the Music Club trying to do a gig here but failing miserably the moment Lilia opened his mouth. Despite the failure, it did bring some people in to get Azul over the red.

A floorshow.

That’s right! A floorshow!

“Grimm!” you grab the cat and bring him close as he freaks out.

“What--what!”

“I got it!” you hold him out in front of you, “We are going to have to let go of our pride a bit and this experience might humble us but...we will have heat!’

“[Y/N] you are scaring me--”

Grimm barely gets to say what he wants as he is dragged back into your arms, your feet running as fast as you can into Mr.S’s shop for the stuff that you will need.

--------

“Ah! Little Shrimp!”

Jade looks up from the numbers he was crunching, smiling as he sees you approaching the table. You wave at Floyd and nod politely towards Jade, sitting down and tapping your fingers against the bar.

“You are here rather late, [Y/N]-san. We have two hours until closing time.”

“I’m just…putting my plan into action. Azul said he wanted sixty by tomorrow, after all.” Floyd grins as he finishes cleaning up the remaining glasses.

“Eh? You are doing something tonight, little Shrimp?”

“...yes.”

He leans close, smiling wider as he sees a certain change in your appearance. The Monstro Lounge was always dark in order to provide a more atmospheric mood at night but with the little light he had to work with he could clearly see traces of makeup all over your face. “Little Shrimp looks so shiny...just like a pearl.” You pull away as he tries to get closer, putting your hand out to stop him and turn your attention towards Jade. “Right. Do you have a backroom next to the stage? I just need to get some things ready--”

“Go into the kitchen, farthest door to the back. There should be a door that leads you towards the back of the stage.” “Do you guys have a light booth--” “Next to the stage.” Jade’s eyes shine, interested in what you are about to pull off, “Do you need our help--”

“Nope that is alright I can take care of this myself thank you.”

Both twins watch you trot towards the kitchen, Grimm following close behind and about three ghosts ‘matching’ his step.

“...Floyd.”

“Yes?”

“Call Azul. I think he’ll be interested to see what is going on.”

--------

“For heat. For heat. For heat!”

You were doing this because of your situation. The situation was desperate so you had to take desperate measures.

Grimm clears his throat as you finish fixing his bowtie, the transparent fabric looking beautiful with the stitched shells all over it.

“Are the ghosts ready?” you ask.

“Just waiting for the curtains to close.”

The crowd goes quiet as you press a few buttons and close them, hushing the late night crowd as you step onto the stage. You try to step softly so that the click of your heels won’t be heard while Grimm opens up the rather large shell in the middle of the stage. This was usually used as a promotional device, customers taking pictures inside it to promote their visits to the lounge. It had a soft cushiony seat inside and could fit a whole student.

You give a thumbs up to your other roommates, the ghosts smiling as their instruments manifested in front of them.

Spectral instruments really came in handy in these situations. “Breathe...Breathe…” you sit down inside the shell and pull your legs up with you, fixing the train of your dress and touching the small shell tiara on your head. It was fashioned after King Triton after all, maybe Azul would get the reference?

Or rather, you hoped Azul wasn’t watching at all. “Okay...close it, Grimm.” He nods and brings the top of the shell down slowly, trapping you both inside as he gave the cue to start up the lights. This was all for a heater...and maybe some tuna.

-----

-At first he wanted to laugh as he saw the curtain slowly being drawn back, when was the last time they used this stage? Student players just weren’t ‘in’ as much anymore and he had to keep up with the trends. What were you planning to do with this?

-Yet his mouth clicked shut as the lights landed right on the shell, the music starting as your voice rang out softly from inside.

-He barely paid attention to the band as the shell slowly opened, Grimm flying out elegantly as he opened it while your frame was slowly being revealed to him as every student’s jaw almost hit the floor.

-Azul clutched his cane as he watched you cradle your legs close to yourself, the lyrics completely blowing past him as you stretch yourself out to show off the outfit you had on. It seemed to shine like a pearl under the lights, your chest being accentuated by how snug it fit against your frame.

-He licked his lips when his eyes landed on your undecorated neck. It was as if you were begging for it to be decorated with bites. Surely he could make a nice necklace for you.

-Dammit he should have sat closer, students were actually getting up from their booths and moving to any tables that were closer to the stage as you start getting up, the train of fabric in your outfit resembling the top of a shell as it brushes across the ground as you make your way to the floor.

-He bites his bottom lip as he sees you making your way around the tables, your voice soft and melodic as the students watch the performance flabbergasted. You are letting your fingers glide against the tables, winking at some of the more bold students who put out their hands so they could touch yours.

-If you were to look at his face you would see no trace of emotion but inside his head he was screaming at you to pass by his table already don’t you know anything about customer service?

-You finally make eye contact with the table he was sitting at, Azul feeling a shiver go up his spine at how your flirtatious eyes suddenly turned nervous. Nobody else had gotten that look.

-Again, he needed to see you looking at him like that again.

-So this is what you were planning. How interesting~

-He watched from behind Azul, taking off his coat and laying it on the back of the plush booth as he took in your form. Where had you gotten such a cute outfit, he wondered. The color made you shine like the rarest pearl and every time the light hit you just right he could see the glitter in your eyelids as you started to approach their table.

-You made eye contact with him, clearly trying to keep up the act of ‘mysterious’ floor show guest but failing as his eyes took you in the closer you got.

-The students groan when they see you sit right next to Azul, pressing close to him as he dares to put an arm around your waist and squeeze. Oh he could bet Azul was happy with how jealous all the students looked.

-Jade couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him when you took Azul’s hat and shoved it in his face before pulling away as quickly as possible.

-He follows your movements as you walk behind him, the sudden hand on his back making him hum in thought as the idea of pinning you right to the back of the booth so you would sing only to him suddenly seeming like the only thing to do in this situation.

-You really had no idea what you could awaken in him if you kept playing around.

-His eyes meet yours as you start walking away but his hand catches your wrist as he tugs you back to him--!

-But Jade, ever the unpredictable man, only presses his lips to your hand before letting you go.

-You were doing a floor show for the customers after all. Didn’t mean that he wouldn’t be talking to you later~

-Floyd had moved himself to the table closest to the stage, tie undone and smile wider than anyone had ever seen as he watched you pay attention to almost every table. The table he was sitting at had been filled with students who deemed themselves rather lucky to get so close only for them to scram when they saw who was approaching it.

-He waves at you when you finally make eye contact with him, licking his lips and smiling as he sees your reluctance to get near him.

-Which he didn’t mind, the fact that you were so wary of him made you all the more adorable.

-You try your best to be as flirty as you had before, merely touching his hand as he holds it out to you but for Floyd that is not enough. The moment your fingers pressed against his palm, he snatched your wrist and brought you to his lap, students gasping as his hands landed on your sides.

-Oh the material was so soft! He ran his fingers up and down as you press hand to his chest while you sang the last few notes of the song.

-Floyd couldn’t help the little giggle as he saw the embarrassment on your face, your hand clearly pushing on his chest but his hands clearly weren’t letting you go. What were you going to do, little Shrimp?

-His eyes widen at your sudden improvisation, your hands taking his and pressing them to your face so he could cup your cheeks. Instinctively he pulled you closer as the song suddenly stopped---

”Floyd-senpai, I have to go.”

-The whisper is only for him to hear as you catch him off guard with that soft look and pull away, you holding out the last note of the song as if you had planned to be caught by him all along.

-He clicks his tongue and leans back, eyes watching you go back up the stage and sitting inside the shell as you pull your legs closer to you before blowing a kiss to the now applauding crowd as Grimm closed the shell.

-Surely the kiss had been for him, right? If it had been for any of these other bottom feeders...well no matter. Even if it hadn’t been for him, Floyd would make sure to squeeze you real tight the moment you got off stage.

-----

You lay down on the cushion as you put your arms over your eyes, groaning as you tried to get your thoughts together.

If this worked out the way you thought it would, word of mouth would get around and you would bring around sixty customers so that they could partake in what they had missed tonight.

Has it cost you your dignity? Yes.

Was the outfit embarrassing? Yes.

Did you have to flirt with all three Octavinelle members so they would see that you were serious about finally going to sleep without shivering? Yes and yes.

At least it was over.

“Yo Grimm. Can you open this? I want to change!”

Your hands tap the top of the shell, sighing in relief as it slowly opened.

Only for you to yelp as hands pin you down to the cushion, a very familiar face grinning down at you as Floyd laughs merrily.

“Ahaha~! Nee, that kiss was for me, right Little Shrimpy? You blew that my way, right?”

Jade sighs and steps behind his brother, pulling him up by the collar so that you could get your bearings.

“It was at the customers, Floyd. I believe [Y/N]-san wanted this to be spoken about tomorrow, correct?”

You nod as he lets go of Floyd and holds out his hand for you to take.

“What an interesting plan...right Azul?”

The Octavinelle dorm leader isn’t really looking at you, he is still staring at everything that you had on taking it as much as he could before your voice brought him back. “So...how did I do?”

Azul blinks before smiling as he steps close and holds out his arm for you to take.

“I have yet to see the terms of the contract be met but...we can discuss how you did in my office. Mind telling me how you came up with this plan? ”

“Y--Yeah! Sure!”

You take Azul’s arm and speak about your thought process, not noticing the grins on the eel’s faces as they hold themselves back until they reach Azul’s office.

How nice, it would be the first time you would be staying over at Octavinelle, even if you didn’t know it yet.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #octavinelle #octavinelle trio #azul x reader #jade x reader #floyd x reader #Azul Ashengrotto #Floyd Leech #Jade Leech #twst mc #G/N reader #available books #//im...im a simp

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aspidities · 2 years

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It’s good to be back. 👋

So I did the whole ‘where I’ve been and how I’m doing’ post on Patreon a week or so back, and now it’s finally time for the Tumblr Version, in bullet points for your benefit!

1. Where have I been:

Well, like, still here. But just….I don’t know, not motivated. I moved in October (big yay!) and we got ourselves the puppy, both of which are great and also big life things. Do you know what no one tells you about raising a puppy? It’s like raising a baby. But WORSE. Babies can’t bite you or your furniture or destroy an entire $20 toy the second your back is turned—at least so I’m told.

And yes, I knew this going in and I still had much to learn, lol. Non stop sleep deprivation from nightly poop runs and lack of energy due to constant puppy supervision is a real drag on the old�� creative engine.

Is it worth it though?

Yes. Oh yes.

So 2. How is the puppy?

Great! Cloud took a long time to learn to sleep through the night but honestly he was otherwise an angel to deal with. Never had many accidents indoors, loves every dog and person he meets and is my girlfriend’s dog’s best friend. He’s now fully housebroken, sleeps through the night, knows about ten tricks, and mostly leaves the cats alone. He’s 6mos and a massive hunk at 54lbs and is the absolute best boy ever. Just the dumbest, sweetest, most obedient kid on the block. I love him and he’s my son, and I am his Dad.

So yeah, he’s doing great. You can even follow his Instagram @forecast_of_cloud where I am a huge Best in Show Dog Dad and post nearly every day.

3. Why haven’t I been posting here?

Well, aside from the puppy madness as described above, I have been going through several different creative and emotional journeys, and, as usual, have been totally unable to articulate any of them. Despite writing words being…y’know, the thing that I do.

First, Supergirl ended and that was kind of a wake up call in a way. I didn’t know what else to write once it had finished. I had existing ideas and I wanted to finish them but then….what next?

I’ve been writing fanfic for almost five years now, after a long hiatus from my teenage years, and it’s been wonderfully cathartic but ultimately I saw it originally as a means to an end: to get myself writing more original work. But that’s scary. Honestly, it is. Fanfic is so safe—you can rely on that framework of someone else’s plot, even a barely sketched out one, to hang your own design on. Writing your own work? Hard. Much harder. And no one cares as much as they do about your fanfic—with good reason! It’s harder to break into something you don’t know about.

But lately I have this feeling like I need to try. I’m not done writing fanfic (I still have to give Arcane and Yellowjackets a shot!), and i’m not done writing Supergirl—I just think my priorities have shifted in a big way. And it took me a long time to come to terms with that.

In addition, I found myself feeling more comfortable on the masc side of the non binary world than I ever expected, and the growth and change from that has been huge.

Luckily I have a lot of support and love in my life to help me along that way. ;)

Which brings me to 4. How are things in my relationship?

Awesome. 🥰

J is a wonderful partner and she’s been the main cheerleader for my original work. She is fierce wit, morbid humor, a devilishly good dress sense and a warm little weight on my chest all wrapped in a lacy package that smells of lavender and Yves St Laurent Black Opium. She cares so much about my well-being, both as a person and an artist, and she’s also supporting me in my masc journey by gleefully dressing me up every chance she gets. In return I make her breakfast almost every morning and rub her back every night. We make a beautiful pair of symbiotic creatures. I am a shrimp and she is my goby and we danced to Frank Sinatra while putting up our little Jewish Christmas tree and squeezed each other’s hands while singing along to Hedwig and the Angry Inch on our theatre Valentines date. It’s love, baby. What more is there to say?

So that’s the news from Asptown, where the women are beautiful and the men aren’t cis! I hope you all haven’t missed me too much. I’ll be posting more regularly and i’m STILL going through my messages so just hang in there with me if I haven’t got to you yet. It’s a good thing to be so well regarded, even if it can be overwhelming. I appreciate the heck out of you all. ❤️

#personal #about me #me and my gal #puppy update #cloud the puppy #where I’ve been

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theotheroccassionalfanficwriter · 3 years

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To Our Beloved Tartaglia

Summary: A story on how two people say i love you without saying it.

A/N: Fluff for today’s birthday boy! I’m buying him a cake and celebrating his birthday! Implied sex at the end.

The freezing temperature of Dragonspine was one you’ve grown to find as a minor inconvenience. Though you do enjoy playing in its place and exploring it for treasures, you’ve never grown to like it. It was just a tourist destination in your humble opinion. Not that anyone who knew you agreed, even Paimon had wondered if you were quite alright in your brain.

Of course, correlation breeds attachment and from the moment you heard Tartaglia offhandedly mention how Dragonspine was like Snezhnaya in its freezing temperature, you’ve dedicated a time in the day to spend time in it to ensure that your body would not be shocked when it finally lands in Snezhnaya. If anyone noticed how you’ve silently grown fond of the place, you’d deny to your dying breath that it had to do with Tartaglia.

Not even Kaeya’s impressive boob window would be able to make you admit your growing intentions to tie down the volatile Harbinger to your side through marriage. There were some things you wanted to keep close to your chest, and this was one of them.

It stood to reason then that you would have kept your sudden desire to perfect the art of cocktail mixing or to be more honest, perfecting Blue Lagoon. Your sudden daily appearance in Cat’s Tail had been the talk of Mondstadt, it grew large enough that even the Traveler and Paimon had dropped by.

“Paimon wonders why you would work here just to practice your bartending skills?” Paimon had asked after being served a non-alcoholic drink.

“I wanted to make a drink for Childe with the fire water he gifted me on my birthday” You revealed as you finished the Long Island and gave it to the Traveler, “On the house.”

You winked at them.

“Huh? Why would you even want to do that?”

You smiled and didn’t answer Paimon, opting to give her food to distract her. On the side, the Traveler gave you a knowing look but you merely signaled them to keep it a secret.

“I really hate the taste of fire water but it does its job in the cold. I don’t know why you’d want something like this, comrade...but if it makes you happy-”

“Since you hate the taste of it, give me enough time to make a drink suitable for you.”

“Hahaha! There’s no need to go that far, I’ve drank this when I was just a year in the Fatui!”

“Then I’ll give you a drink just for you as Tartaglia.”

When you saw his letter today, you couldn’t help but feel the bubbling emotion in your heart. Excitement rushed through your veins as you ignored the rest of the letters addressed to you to read his letter. You sat in front of your house’s door step, smile on your face as you read his letter.

You couldn’t help but imagine the whine in his tone, you lamented that the two of you couldn’t have bumped into him at Dragonspine but your travels took you far and wide through Teyvat. The chances of meeting him by chance were low, so you resigned on buying information of his whereabouts.

Nothing substantial, just sightings of him if only to fake a chance meeting but it didn't happen so far. The two of you were always on the opposite ends of Teyvat that you had half a mind that Celestia itself was sabotaging your love life. Your heart felt elated at knowing he was fondly remembering the time you had spent with each other, as well as the sparring sessions that always seemed like on the verge of something more.

When your eyes read the final words on his letter, you couldn’t help but feel your heartbeat quicken.

“A special day?” You muttered to yourself, your mind quickly churning as you hastily went inside your rented home in Mondstadt and quickly rushed towards your room to grab your room to change your clothes. You had thought he was in Snezhnaya so you had already sent his gift earlier, timing it so that it would arrive today but if his letter was to be understood, it meant that he was in Liyue today.

‘If I use the waypoints, I can get there quickly and spend the day with him!’ You thought as you began to meticulously fix yourself. You wanted to show him the best sides of you today.

Your clothes were meticulously picked, the outfit would pose no hazards during a battle while at the same time accentuating your figure and increasing your charm. You wanted to be prepared on the off chance Tartaglia wanted to have a spar, but if he wanted to go on a date,

“Then I’ll be prepared as well!” You giggled as you finished checking yourself out and began to apply light waterproof make-up. Your lips were glossed and purposely drawn to capture his attention on how kissable it was.

You sprayed a soft floral perfume before winking at the mirror and making your way to the nearest warp point and teleporting yourself in Liyue.

You landed softly in front of the teleport waypoint in Feiyun Slope. The effort you spent on yourself was noticeable, the mid-morning populace of Liyue took a couple of glances at you. Anyone could tell that you were about to go on a date, eyes followed you as you happily walked towards the Northland Bank.

“Good morning, Vlad!”

“O-oh! Good morning! Are you here for Lord Tartaglia?” Vlad asked you, blushing after being caught mid-yawn.

“Yeah, I was hoping he was around here” You replied, suddenly feeling embarrassed at your haste.

Vlad grinned, it was no secret to the employees of the Northland Bank that you and Lord Tartaglia frequently went out together. As far as they were concerned, marriage was a foregone conclusion between the two of you.

“Of course! Just head straight to the second floor! Lord Tartaglia is still in his office around this time!”

“Thanks! I heard Nadia’s into crab tofu this days~” You happily helped Vlad to further his relationship with Nadia.

Each step that you took made your smile brighter, your head was full of thoughts about him. Wondering if he had gotten stronger, was he eating well, did he get new scars, had he visited his family recently, was he taking good care of himself. All of this went through your head as you headed to his office but most of all you thought,

‘Did you think of me as much as I thought of you?’

Your heart was bursting at the seams and you couldn’t wait to be reunited with him. Your footsteps slowed as you reached the door to his office, you could hear the soft muffled sounds of scribbling behind the door. You stood in front of it, debating, thinking, on the words you wanted to say to him.

You hesitated, wondering if the words on his letter were just politeness and not a reflection of his true feelings towards you. You lingered in front of the door, listening to the sounds inside the room, and wondered if you could cross the line today. You thought of the package that had surely already arrived in Snezhnaya, before your thoughts could even spiral further down the road, the door opened and in front of you stood Tartaglia.

Somehow, against your will, you couldn’t help but smile at him. Your traitorous body revealing your heart right in front of him without any regard for your reservations.

“Tartaglia!”

And when he smiled back, eyes soft as if the mere mention of his name had not revealed your fondness of him, you felt yourself fall in love with him again.

Your name felt safe in his mouth, treasured, and when he pulled you close and held you in a tight embrace, you prayed that he wouldn’t hear the quick and rapid pump of your heart nor would he realize how easily you melted in his embrace.

“You came! I didn’t really expect you to come so quickly!” His tone was bashful, pleased, and a little bit shy and it made you even softer for him.

“Neither did I! I was hoping you were here since I’ve never been to your home in Morepesok before…” You trailed off, feeling shy.

He laughed softly, “If you keep that up, I might just really think you’ve missed me so much!”

“I did miss you” You admitted with soft eyes as you watched his face slowly turn red.

“Comrade…” Tartaglia averted his eyes, the back of his covering half of his face, “I’m no match for you today.”

You chuckled softly, “Mhm. Before that let me greet you first.”

He looked at you and you wondered what sort of face you were making right now. You sincerely hoped it wasn’t weird or ugly.

“I’m listening.”

“Tartaglia, Happy birthday” You stepped closer to his personal space, hands on his chest as you tiptoed and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“I’ve actually sent your gift to Morepesok but since you’re here...today I’ll give myself to you.”

Tartaglia blushed as he grasped your hands and with unconcealed anticipation replied, “How bold! I can’t believe you’re saying that in broad daylight!”

“What’s bold about it?” You asked him “I’m willing to do anything you want today as your present since your real one is in Snezhnaya.”

“Oh.”

You frowned at his reaction, “I-I can change it to something else! Do you want new weapons?” You worried that you had disappointed him with your stand-in gift.

“No!”

He coughed upon realizing his reaction and hastened to explain himself, “I mean, I’m glad to have you today! You can’t change it to something else!”

You felt relieved at his words. Tartaglia continued speaking, “I want to go on a date with you today, eat your cooking for lunch, and then spar in the afternoon, and we finish this at my room.”

“As you wish!”

In the morning, after Tartaglia had finished signing and writing the documents for the Fatui, the two of you ate breakfast at Wanmin Restaurant. His skills in using chopsticks were marginally better but it still took him many attempts before he could eat a couple of bites.

It was cute. It was endearing. And you were so so in love that you didn’t mind picking up the crystal shrimp and feeding it to him.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy” You told him when his mouth remained close and you could see the hesitation in his eyes “You’ll need all the energy for our fight later.”

You locked eyes with him as he ate from your chopsticks, seeing up close how long his lashes were, the slight curl on its end and the fascinating blue of his eyes. You wondered if Tartaglia could see how much you loved him, if your eyes betrayed the depth of your affection for him. But as soon as he removed his mouth from the chopsticks, crystal shrimp gone, the moment had ended and you ate from your bowl of Universal Peace.

When you saw him swallow, you immediately reached for the Squirrel Fish and took a piece of it, offered it to him and Tartaglia ate. Had it anyone else you wouldn’t have bothered but as always, Tartaglia managed to be the exception and you didn’t mind.

After eating, the two of you walked along Liyue Harbor, browsing shops and buying him small trinkets to bring back home. You visited the blacksmith to commission him a new bow, one designed to further improve his skills at the bow. You would pick it up later in the day, and Tartaglia dragged you to watch opera. The two of you sat close, closer than usual and the butterflies in your stomach never settled down. His hand never left yours and you wondered what sort of picture the two of you painted in the eyes of Liyue’s populace.

You couldn’t help but wish that you could keep on celebrating his birthdays with him from now on.

By the time the play ended it was past lunch time, so the two you went to the market stalls and bought ingredients for a late lunch before heading back to his apartment. Tartaglia helped as you made his longevity noodles, telling him the story behind it from a time before Rex Lapis’.

“I guess, you must really like me that much if you’re giving me this to eat!”

“Well, since we met in the middle of my life, I wanted to make sure that we’d have a lot of time to spend together to make up for it” You teased him even if it was the truth.

You didn’t know what the future held for both of you but you wanted to be part of his life longer than the time you weren’t in it. In his kitchen, you served him the noodles, every part of it made with love and well-wishes for his life and you hoped that there would be more years to come that you could spend it this way.

‘I wonder if you could tell how much I love you with each bite you take?’

When all was said and done, when the two of you had gone through all of his wishes, you both sat at the pavilion in the Dwelling in the Clouds, stargazing and observing Celestia. Between the two of you were two glasses filled with Blue Lagoon.

“You know, I never thought that you’d really make a drink with Fire Water that I’d like” Tartaglia said, his gaze far away “Say, do you do this for others too?”

“I don’t” You confessed, your face felt like it was on fire, you had never been comfortable speaking out your love unless it was hidden behind a joke or said in a playful careless manner.

A moment later, Tartaglia’s movement had you looking at him, drinking in the rare sight of his gentle smile, a genuine one that carried only what you dared to hope was fondness for you.

“If you keep this up, looking at me like that, I might really get my hopes up” His voice was soft and gentle as his face came closer to yours.

“Say comrade, if I kissed you right now what would you do?”

Before you could even think of a reply his lips were on yours and you were pushed down the bench, glasses strewn aside as Tartaglia’s tongue entered your open mouth and kissed you deeply. Your arms embraced his neck as the two of you kissed passionately, drowning in each other in gentle passionate bliss above the clouds. His hand lingered on your thigh, squeezing and caressing it as he applied pressure on your crotch and creating a friction that had you arching your body close.

When the two of you came up for air, you looked so debauched that Tartaglia almost couldn’t help but devour you right then. The flush on your cheeks, the dazed look in your eyes and your glistening red lips that had been a temptation to him all day created a picture that would always linger in his mind.

“If I asked you to give yourself to me…” Tartaglia’s hand traveled down your inner thigh, getting closer to the sides of your crotch “would you?”

“...yes” You covered your eyes, if only to hide your embarrassment.

His soft laughter had you peeking back at him.

“Thank you”

His lips were back on yours and made no move to stop him as his hands went under your clothes, playing with your body as if he had spent time thinking on how to elicit moans from your mouth. He was gentle but purposeful in his acts as your clothes were removed piece by piece and discarded into a pile on the floor.

You bit your hand as he took you apart again and again, plunging you into a passionate love affair that had you crying for his name and tasting the sweetness of his love with each kiss. It felt sacrilegious to have done such an act in a place owned by the Adepti but each bite, each kiss, had your heart pounding in excitement.

You loved him as ardently as the fires of Natlan, as deep as the waters of Liyue’s seas, you loved him with all of your heart and every fiber of your being. What bliss it was to experience this love that made you feel human, that the mere mention of his name could bring a smile on your face.

How wonderful it was to be in his arms right now, enjoying the bliss of being loved and loved in return. With your hands clasped together with his, your heart filled to the seams, you spoke,

“I’m glad to have met you.”

When Tartaglia had left that letter on your doorstep, he had stood in front of it for a long while. Wondering what you would say if he was the first thing you saw in the morning. Would you greet him with a happy birthday? Or would you scream in fright? His thoughts went on and on as he merely stood there thinking upon dozens of scenarios if only for you to be the first one to wish him a happy birthday.

He wanted to tell you that his days were no longer the same without you by his side, that the mundane everyday life no longer felt exciting when you weren’t there to experience it with him. He wanted to tell you how he always wanted you to just show up whenever your informants inquired about him.

He had entertained the thought that you would one day show up in his workplace, food in hand and his name on your lips but he knew that you were the type to stick to your duties, and really he couldn't fault you for that when he was the same. But sometimes, the selfish and childish part of him wanted you to throw away everything for him.

Just for a while, just for a moment, if only to have something to look back upon when all was said and done.

So when he had seen you standing before him, eyes bright and looking at him like he was your most cherished person, he couldn’t help the happiness that was bursting at the seams. And now that you were in his arms, on his lap with your head on his chest, he couldn’t help but kiss you again and again. Making up for lost time, for all of those moments when he could have breached the line and made a move but didn’t.

“Stay with me” He offered, asked even when he knew that it was impossible right now. Not when either of your allegiance could go against each other any time, you with the Adventurer’s guild and him with the Fatui.

“One day” you promised.

And that was enough for him. It gave him hope that both of you would make it out alive. It gave him something to look forward to when his time with the Harbingers had come to an end.

#tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact tartaglia x reader #genshin impact childe x reader #childe x reader #happy birthday tartaglia

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ff-imagines · 3 years

Note

Can i request some nsfw headcanons for mantis shrimp? I read through your blog and let me just say: I'm a big fan. Btw if you dont wanna do them thats fine as well

Salt and pepper shrimp: nsfw alphabet

I did the whole alphabet bc? Why not! Side note I rly wanna write a fic going off my thoughts ab his experience level >:)

A - aftercare

Look, getting him to release you from his hold to go to the bathroom on a regular night is a battle enough. After sex? Phew I wish you luck. Might wanna just put some water on your night stand beforehand. You would be able to convince him to take a bath with you pretty easily though, he likes how the warm water feels very much. Make sure to cuddle him in the bath still, he's in a very vulnerable state right now and he really needs some good old tlc.

B- body parts

he’s got a weird fixation with your hands. He likes to compare hand sizes, whether your hands are bigger or smaller isn’t what he likes, he just likes to admire them. He loves sucking/biting your fingers while he’s got you in his lap. Lacing your fingers with his with one hand while bringing the other to his cheek, nuzzling into your hand while he bounces you on his cock.

On himself, there is tragically little that he genuinely likes. He views himself as a weapon, getting him to unlearn that will not be an easy process, trust me, Boston has tried. Complimenting his eyes does seem to make him a little more flustered than other praises, and he has a hard time staring you in the eye during sex…. maybe we can start there.

C - cum

His cum is pretty thin but there’s a shit ton of it. Enough that if he cums inside you swear you can feel the warmth as his cock pours rope and rope of his seed into you.

He doesn’t actually care where he cums, just ask him and he’ll comply.

inside you? sounds good.

On your back? Say less.

On the floor? You’re cleaning it, but sure.

He did discover he’s got an affinity for watching his cum on your tongue. I don’t know how you’d be able to swallow it all, but any attempt you make will be met with shrimp getting hard all over again.

D - dirty secret

He secretly thinks it’d be really hot for you to dom him. It’s gonna take a very long time before he’s comfortable letting you have that Linda control over him, just the thought of being tied up, hands behind his back while you praise him for being such a good boy, its a fantasy he’s visited on many sleepless nights.

E - experience

Nope. Nada. To be frank, I think he’s the definition of Demisexual, and he has yet to meet anyone besides Boston and the anti-human gang who he genuinely wants to get to know better. He definitely hasn’t met anyone who wants to get to know better for romantic reasons.

He doesn’t know enough about human customs to know that it can be embarrassing for someone to be inexperienced, but he does feel very very nervous the first few times. He’ll need a lot of reassurance, give him praise and he’s putty in your hands.

F - favorite position

I'm gonna be boring and say missionary. It’s simple, easy, and since he’s brand new to all of this it’s the least mentally overstimulating. He very much likes that he can see your face.

If he’s feeling extra spicy he might grab onto the inside of your knees and push you into the mating press, though he really only does this if he’s upset or jealous.

If you ask nicely he might let you sit in his lap, as a treat. Bouncing on his cock as he litters your chest with bite marks, what a treat it is <3

G - goofy

…. yea for sure definitely. He’s a real jokester.

On a serious note, he himself is not a goofy person whatsoever, but he would actually like it if you were. Outright making fun of him or harsh teasing is an immediate turn off, but light jokes to ease his nerves is for sure welcomed since he’s very tense the first few times.

Give him time and you might even catch him cracking a small joke himself, all the while giving you a weak, nervous smile.

H- hair

He doesn’t trim or shave anything lmao. He’s busy, and also doesn’t care literally at all. He’s got a thin happy trail that can be easy to miss since he's blonde.

He’s got the same energy with your body hair, he doesn’t care. If you do shave he might ask why, just out of curiosity. If your reason is insecurity, he’ll probably suggest you let it grow, he doesn’t care and he’s the only one who’ll ever see it lmao

I- intimacy

It’s an awkward “i hope to fuck I’m doing this right” kind of intimacy. He fumbles and messes up a lot, he might even accidentally miss when thrusting and end up just kinda rubbing himself on you but he’s really trying. Just from the fact he’s willing to try this at all with you is a big sign that he’s really trying his best to be as intimate as he can with you.

J- jerk off

Before meeting you, not a lot actually. He mostly just did it if he ever woke up from a wet dream and knew that if he didn’t take care of it now he’d never be able to get back to sleep.

After your first time together, his first time, he thinks back the immeasurable pleasure a lot, finding himself in need of relief a lot more than he ever did before. You are the catalyst to his drive, and you are also the only thing he can think about that can help him cum. It’s kinda sweet in a perverted way.

K- Kinks

He will bite you. It’s just so easy to bruise you and it makes your relationship status to others so obvious, he can’t just… not bite you.

Marking, going along with the biting kink. This goes both ways, he’d love for you to scratch at his back enough to leave red marks, to bite as his collarbone, grip his hips tight enough to bruise. He likes looking at the marks later, they remind him that he did good, he made you feel good, that’s all he really wants.

He doesn’t exactly have a breeding kink as much as this goes along with the marking aspect. Suggest to him that he cum deep inside you to mark your insides… he might give you 2-3 loads just to make sure you're nice and full, completely claimed.

He also kinda likes to make you cry. Overstimulating you to the point of tears gives him a sense of pride he hasn’t really felt before.

He really likes temperature play as well, dragging ice cubes and hot wax across your skin and watching you flinch and squirm just does something to him.

And of course, light bondage. He probably found out it was a thing after reading some kinda erotic fiction and immediately went to you like “why did you not tell me about this?????” He adores how to look all tied up and stuck, right in the palm of his hands. It makes him feel emotional as well, that you’re willing to give him such a powerful amount of control over you.

Last but not least, please praise him. During sex as well as day to day. Let him know he’s so pretty, he’s doing so good, he’s cock feels so so good, he might cum on the spot.

L- location

The first time he’d really need it to be in a secluded, safe area. He’s gotta feel comfy if he’s gonna get into the mood.

Every other time? Babes you’ve awakened a beast, he’ll get random spikes of “if I don’t at least try to fuck them I will scream”. You could be in the middle of a forest running from an axe wielding murderer and this horny bastard would still find a way to pull you aside and rail you against a tree.

There most likely isn’t a spot in your home that he hasn’t fucked you against.

Peaceful moment of washing dishes? Think again, he’s plopping you on the kitchen counter and diving to mouth at your neck.

Writing some papers? Just sit on his lap, you’ll feel much less stressed with his cock buried to the hilt, won’t you?

Doing laundry? Might have to rewash them cause now he’s using the clothes as a bed to fuck you on. He’ll apologize and help you fold them after they’re rewashed bc he feels bad lmao

M- motivation

Like I said, he’s set off by the smallest things. A little stretch, wiping some water off on your pants, humming a song, all of it can randomly make him feel the need to fuck you.

The most intense and quickest way to rile him up is either playing with his hair, or massaging his back. It starts out innocent but he just can’t take the thought of your pretty hands working so lovingly and not at least trying to reciprocate and make you feel good too.

N- no

No sharing. He doesn’t want someone else to see you, and he doesn’t want someone else to see him. It’s just not something he likes.

He also hates humiliation. He… would tolerate it if you asked for it, even if he doesn’t get why you’d want him to outright insult you. But for himself? Fuck no, he hates it so fuckin much. He’s a sensitive insecure puppy that wants your attention very badly, pls don’t hurt him like that :(

O- oral

Oh please give him oral. He’s begging. Well, he’d never outright beg but the way his eyes fixate on your mouth a lot is his way of silently pleading for you to wrap your lips around his cock. His soul ascends a little every time he sees his cum dribbling down your face, he might be even willing to make out with his cum still on your tongue.

As for giving, he’s got no clue what the hell he’s doing but he’s nervously eager to try. Guide him as best you can, he’s good at measuring your reactions so he can handle the rest. Tug on his hair a little bit if you wanna drive him crazy.

He’ll get a lot better with time, his eagerness to please however, does not leave him in the slightest.

P- pace

The first time? Slow and unsure, then he realizes “oh fuck this feels stupid good” and his pace becomes almost punishing. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, he’s unknowingly going deeper and harder than you've ever been dicked down in your life. If you want him to, somehow, go harder? Grab his hand and place it over your stomach to make him feel his cock enter you through your skin, his hand slides down to grip your hips and slams into you, wiggling his hips without withdrawing to gain some of his sanity back before he’s back to a punishing pace.

Q- quickies

Oh hell yea. He lives for them. Sudden moments of horniness come to him all the time and since this spike in desire is brand new, he hasn’t really… learned to live with it yet. He pulls you aside into closets and alleyways all the time, he can’t help that you feel so warm and snug :(

R- risk

He doesn’t exactly enjoy the thought of a voyeur, he really doesn’t want to share you with anyone. But… there is a deeper part of him that finds a sense of pride if someone were to hear you getting absolutely pounded by him, desperately crying out and whining for him to go deeper, even better if they were someone who pined for you….

S- stamina

Well, to be frank he cums pretty quickly. It’s all so brand new to him, he really can’t help it. Lucky for you, his refractory time is crazy low. He can cum once, watch you do some mindless motion you always do and he’s right back to being hard again in minutes.

T- toys

Not against it, but is again, brand new to all this shit. He’s very interested in using your own toys against you though. Would definetly use a vibrater to edge and overstim you. He’d be interested in a cock ring, only if you were willing to endure a vibrator while he fucks you, he doesn’t wanna be the only one struggling lmao

U- unfair

He can be, yea. He kinda likes edging you, but not as much as he likes overstimulating you.

He loves to hear how you beg under him when he’s pulling you so close to the edge, keeping you just far enough to drive you insane.

Overstimming though? The way you twitch and beg, how your chest heaves and your mouth hangs open into a silent scream, eyes shut tight and watering, now that’s the good shit.

V- volume

Doesn’t talk much, but for sure gives out a lot of groans. This is something he’s never felt before in his life, the first few times you're going to get a lot of whines and surprised yelps, check up on him and make sure he’s still doing alright, he’s just very nervous.

As he gets more comfortable, he gives you quiet praises and promises to make you feel good. He also groans quite a lot, but since his voice is deeper it can be hard to catch.

W- wild card

He really wants to try using his prosthetic arm for temperature play, he’s just not at all confident in himself enough to bring it up. He likes the thought of you jumping and squirming under his touch, for now he can just stick to wax play.

X- X Ray

Mans is actually pretty fuckin big. He’s got no idea how big he is though. If you were surprised and a little nervous about his size he’d be pretty confused, is there something wrong? Did you change your mind? The concept of him being well above average is something you’ll have to explain later. It boosts his ego quite bit, even if he’d never admit it.

Whine about him being too big and you can just see the pride swelling in his chest, giving you no mercy with his thrusts.

Y- yearning

Often. Very very often. He’d fuck you multiple times every day if he had the time. However, you’re both busy, and you’d probably get a UTI with how many times this man wants to dick you down lmao. He’s got his cock buried in you at least 4-5 times a week.

Z- zzz

Actually pretty quickly. Even if he prefers being in control during sex, he kinda likes being the little spoon as he drifts to sleep. Give him some soft praises about how well he did and he’s turning into jello in your hold.

#food fantasy #food fantasy x reader #ff salt and pepper shrimp #ff salt and pepper shrimp x reader

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 3 years

Text

A chatty writing update | novels, short fiction, etc!

Hi folks!

It’s been a while since I last wrote an update on this blog! I thought it’d be fun to go back to basics, and just talk about writing. This post chats about: new plans for Feeding Habits, my newest novel, my short story goals & growing collection, along with process reflections.

(image description: a photo of green leaves with the text “writing update” in a white font written on top. /end image description)

Post starts under the cut!

General taglist (please ask to be added or removed)

@if-one-of-us-falls, @qatarcookie, @chloeswords, @alicewestwater, @laughtracksonata, @shylawrites, @ev–writes, @jaydewritesfiction, @jennawritesstories @eowynandfaramir, @august-iswriting, @aetherwrites, @avakrahn, @maisulli

What have I been up to?

For starters, I finished my second year of my Writing undergrad last week and got two of my final grades back today (A+ baby)! For anyone who has taken online university, y’all already KNOW, but this year was so difficult. Would not recommend! Really proud of myself to have gotten through this absolute rollercoaster of a school term and am excited to get into some writing. That leads us to:

What have I been up to (writing edition)?

2021 started off so fast. By the time January hit, I was so consumed in my new semester that I did not have time to write Feeding Habits (my novel). In the first few days of the term, I managed to write between class, until I could no longer keep up! Essentially, I did not write any of that novel until exam season (last week), where I did manage to get in about 3k words in ~4 days.

Feeding Habits

I’m currently drafting what I believe will be the last chapter of this book (chapter 10: Swan Song). This chapter is so bizarre for a few reasons. It begins the book’s third part and also marks the shift back into Lonan’s head from Harrison’s. I originally thought this part would be much, much longer, with at least another five chapters to go, but quickly realized the book’s content was nearly completed. In my 4 day 3k palooza, I hit 50k in the book (the word count goal), and couldn’t see myself extending past 60k. Since then, I’ve made the loose decision to write this final chapter as a ~novella. Here are a few reasons why:

1. This chapter is structurally very strange.

I unashamedly shift from present to past to present to past past, and so much more every 12 words. I mapped out the timeline on a sheet of paper, and there were over 20 shifts in scenes (the chapter is only about 4400 words at the moment). The fictive past is incredibly important to this chapter, more important than the present, and I thought it would make more sense to not break randomly for a chapter so I could upkeep the consistent inconsistency of the chapter.

2. The chapter is very abstract

This stems from the structural changes, but there are paragraphs in this chapter of the fictive present that are loosely based in reality. They’re more poems than they are factual paragraphs, and keeping them all contained in one place (so a mega chapter/ novella) would reduce the most confusion!

3. There’s not much left to cover

Like I said above, Feeding Habits is on its last leg, lol! I know exactly where the book needs to end up, which is very, very soon from where I’m currently at on the timeline. Swan Song should cover what 2-4 chapters would cover in terms of arcs.

Feeding Habits and I have a really weird relationship, tbh! When I realized a few weeks ago that it’d been over a year since I started the book, I realized I just needed to finish it. Not that I want to rush (because I’ve taken longer than a year to write a book in the past), but that in order to move onto another project, I’d like to put this one behind first. This book has been the hardest thing I’ve ever written, and has reminded me there’s always a time to let go. This sort of scrounges up a conversation about letting this entire series go, which is certainly something I’ve been contemplating doing soon(ish). If this spinoff series gets a third book, that may or may not be the last Fostered book for a very long time (or ever)! There are many complex reasons to move on, but the main one is that I have other projects I’d like to focus on. This is not a definitive decision, but something I’ve certainly been thinking about!

Here are a few excerpts I wrote recently:

(TW: death, gore)

Dying feels like being a trout dangled out of water. Clinging to a hook. Mouth open. Scales iridescent in a final death cry. It’s like blood spurting up the knuckles, drowning out the flesh. It’s that moment on the long fall down when the clouds cup the body. Easy drifting. The sound a skull makes when it cracks is really just the afterthought.

(TW: death, gore)

Kill shot. Death blow. Coup de grace. Right in the heart. He feels it. The blood swelling, slicking his palms. He can do it. Reach into the cavity. Feel for the ribs. Part each bone. Then cup the humming heart. Stay there. Right. It’s never been easier.

Look at this PURE moment of Lonan holding a baby I CANNOT:

The grocery store was a fifteen-minute walk away. With Olivia clinging to his shoulder, Lonan was acutely aware that she could feel his heartbeat. Open valve. Close. Repeat. Hers pulsed right above his, a miniature drumming. The sky had bruised purple, misted with clouds. The evening air nipped his cheeks, so he made sure Olivia was securely fastened between him and his jacket. With wide eyes, she absorbed the drowsy suburbia, all its family cars pulling into driveways, all its couples heading back home after a sunset walk. When Lonan passed a young boy walking two golden retrievers, Olivia giggled, and didn’t stop, even after he’d spent fifty dollars on groceries and nearly the rest on a red Corolla marked with a MUST GO NOW sign outside a convenience store.

Let’s move on!

Mandy and Cora

I said I wouldn’t talk too much about this project, but I just love it so much?? I wanted to share my SUPER early thoughts on drafting a novel, especially one that is SO different from what I’ve been writing recently. I talked about this before in THIS post, but the summary about this project is that it’s a YA contemporary novel! Can’t believe I’m writing YA again, it’s been so long, but I also think it’s going so well. Everything I’ve learned as a literary fiction writer has been a fantastic primer for transferring back to the genre. Admittedly, I have not written much, but I’m having a lot of fun diving back into a lighter project. This is the summary:

Cora and Mandy are identical twins who’ve always done everything together. But when Mandy decides to go to university out of province after graduation and Cora doesn’t, Cora takes this as an opportunity to “test run” life apart from her sister for the first time by spending the summer at her aunt’s house across the country.

I have come up with a few ~things since I last talked about this project, mostly how I’d like to structure it. As of now, I’d like the book to be structured super loosely. I’m really pulling on a lot of inspo from “We Are Okay” by Nina LaCour (which is SO good), particularly how “nothing happens-y” that book is. This project (which I still need a title for!!) will be structured in short chapters that cover something Cora does on her own for the first time (without Mandy). For example, a few ideas are “Flight”, “Lunch”, and “Groceries”. “Flight” is the first “chapter” (they’re really kind of vignettes) where Cora flies to her aunt’s house. I still can’t determine if this book will take place in Canada. On one hand, I feel like there will be a wider audience if it takes place in the US (is that just an assumption??? maybe?? someone let me know!), but also: don’t really care too much about an audience at the moment! It could also take place in Canada (So Ontario and British Columbia). But if it does take place in the US, I think it may take place in NYC and San Francisco. The problem is: I really don’t like researching lol, and while I’ve been to NYC many times, I will definitely write it wrong! Does this really matter on a first draft?? absolutely not lol, but of course I am already overthinking!

But back to structure: I am looking forward to seeing what this looser structure will do. This is a story that is solely around one half of a set of twins learning to be her own person (and ultimately that she doesn’t have to completely forget her sister in order to do that), and as a twin who KNOWS this feeling, I think this structure of her doing things for the first time is SUPER relatable.

I was worried it might sound silly/worrying to others who are not twins that Cora hadn’t done things like “lunch” or “groceries” on her own, but I feel this so much as an identical twin myself! Not that she hasn’t done anything at all by herself, but as a twin, when you do something without your twin for the first few times, at least in my experience, you notice. If any twins are reading this--weigh in!

This story is the most personal thing I’ve ever written. It definitely is an OwnVoices book! Usually, I avoid details that are remotely similar to me because they make me uncomfortable haha, but with this book, it’s all me, lol! The characters are all Guyanese, which is SO fun because I’ve been planning what they eat (my fellow Caribbean peeps know: the FOOD!), which is so fun (yes they have pumpkin and shrimp, yes they have roti, yes they have pera, yes they have mithai). Every time I’ve gone to dabble at this book, or even think about it, I get incredibly emotional for this reason? I don’t exactly know why. I think this is a story I just so want to tell, with the culture I love SO much that I definitely struggled to love as a child. This is reclamation bitchessss!

Not going to lie tho: the prospect of writing ~a book~ is kind of freaky! I’m going to make the minimum word count for this book pretty short (50k) and see where it goes from there. I think I will focus on this project this summer! Originally I was going to write a literary novel this summer, but I think this one’s calling my name!

Here’s a pretty rough excerpt:

Try. I remind myself that’s what I’m doing after the flight attendant fills me a disposable cup of Coca Cola and all I can think of is Mandy and I shoving Mentos into a bottle of the stuff when we were twelve. Just me, wedged in the middle seat between an exchange student heading out for summer break and a middle-aged woman sipping a cocktail, thinking of Mandy and I bursting whole oranges in a blender when we were bored one Winter break as the plane dips through a wave of turbulence. Mandy and I dying our hair neon green with highlighters (didn’t work—our hair is too dark) as the plane lands on the tarmac. Mandy and I arguing so loud last month, we both lost our voices as I lug my carry-on out of the overhead compartment and shuffle off the plane and through the airport, searching for Aunt Vel.

Short Fiction

I’ve written so much short fiction this year! I have a goal to write a short story a month (they can range in length, as long as 1 is “complete”), so my short story brain has seriously been soaking it all up lately. Let’s chat my month to month breakdown so far:

January:

I wrote four stories in January! The first is a flash fiction piece called “Shark Swimming” that follows a young woman who attends a shark swimming class after breaking up with her girlfriend. I wrote this story for a “test” workshop for my fiction class, and it was based off the prompt “think about something you’re afraid to do and make the character do that thing”. I’m not particularly afraid of sharks, but had been wanting to use the title “Shark Swimming” for AGES (literally since 2018).

This story is one of my favourites. It’s only about 900 words, but I think there’s something profound in how mundanely specific it is. The entire story doesn’t even see the narrator swim with sharks once; it actually takes place fully in the sanctuary’s lobby. But I really love this narrator. This is the first story I’ve written in second person in a while, though I felt really connected to the unnamed narrator. She struggles with accepting that she truly is a “boring” person, and there’s something about the final image that really gets me!

I’ve been submitting this around, though it’s been rejected a handful of times. Hoping I can secure it at a magazine one day because I really love it!

The second story is “Joanne, I’ll Pray for You” which is actually a rewrite of one of my very first short stories (the first story I did not write for a class haha), “NYC in Your Apartment”. I LOVE this rewrite a lot, and also learned the original is not a very good short story! Revising this story taught me just how much I’ve learned in the 2 years I’ve been writing short fiction. Seeing the 2019 version versus the 2021 version side by side is fascinating because I essentially “gutted’ the 2019 version of its beginning and end until all that was left was the middle of the story (aka the actual story). AKA: this is the only story I’ve ever written with a hopeful ending and I cut out all the happy bits lol I am SO sorry (that arc is more for a novel or novella). That’s how this went from a 5k word story to an 1800 word story (my Submittable thanks me for this lol). A lot of details and scenes I included were more pertinent to a 3 act structure/novel, which of course short stories don’t often have because of their brevity. I love rambling about writing theory, and seeing that actually pay off is so fascinating!

(TW: trauma)

Like the original, this story follows Joanne, a woman in her early twenties, who spontaneously breaks up with her boyfriend. She claims the poltergeist haunting her drove her to this decision. The original draft focused a lot more on the traumatic events Joanne survives, but this draft really loosens them up. It focuses less so on the events themselves, and more on how Joanne’s life is affected. I found the details of these events were less important, and even sort of contradicted Joanne’s insistence she is being haunted. Instead, the poltergeist really takes more precedence in the new draft as a force Joanne doesn’t understand. That ambiguity, I think, is what the story truly needed.

I also centralized Joanne’s relationship with her boyfriend, Julian, here. Now don’t get me wrong, I really didn’t add anything to this draft. It was a matter of trimming the fat around it to leave the lean “meat” in the centre. But by removing that fat, I was able to emphasize what was most important here, and that was her relationship. Julian always played a really big role in the original draft, but I feel like his role as both a friend and partner to Joanne is much more emphasized since this draft literally is only two scenes now. Because there is less, there is more room for Joanne to reflect, which I’m happy about!

A final change I made was the setting and therefore the title. The original, which was “NYC in Your Apartment,” I couldn’t keep because I shifted the setting to Toronto (this is how I originally saw it, but in 2019 I just?? couldn’t?? write?? canlit??), and “Toronto in Your Apartment” sounded sort of gross LOL. The new title comes from a line in the story which I think is more relevant to the themes!

The next short story I wrote in January was “How to Spell Alpaca.” This one is super fun because I wrote it SO fast (in about 15 minutes or so). THIS is the writing update if you’re interested in learning more. I talked extensively about this one in that update, but some developments are that I dove into an edit a few weeks ago to really understand the core of the story. I’m still not quite there (this is just an intuitive feeling; I know not everything has “clicked), but I am really intrigued by the two mothers in the story, the narrator, and her newfound acquaintance, Violet. Both really struggle to understand their place as mothers (the narrator even declares she isn’t a mother anymore). The narrator, who is in her 50s, sees herself in Violet, who is much younger (~20s), and so she views Violet’s relationship with her daughter in a cautionary, yet mournful way, like she can see it will end up like her own relationship with her daughter, despite wanting the opposite. This is a really subtle story. I feel like if you blink, you’ll miss the message. But I think it’s compelling for that reason. It’s really a portrait of parenting and how to grapple with mistakes you may make that inevitably affect your children. Wow just unlocked the theme writing this lol.

The final story I wrote in January is “The Party,” which may be in my top 3 faves I’ve ever written. This story follows Aida, a recent divorcee in her ~40s. The day her divorce turns official, she moves into a new house and receives a party invitation addressed to the previous homeowner, yet RSVP’s anyway. At this party, she’s hoping to find some sense of noticeability, having struggled with being nondescript her whole life. Things seem quite normal at the party, until it gets bizarre.

I LOVE this story, y’all. Like “How to Spell Alpaca” it really delves into motherhood. Aida, our narrator, is incredibly hurt after her divorce. She now lives farther from her children she struggled to feel connected to in the first place, and doesn’t really know how to reignite her life. This party is a means to do that. This is the first story I’ve written that contains a “twist” which is strange because I really prefer stories that give us as much info as possible upfront, but yes, this one sort of twists.

February

I wrote one story in February, and that was “Protect the Young.” This title is SO changing when I think of a new one because it’s thematically incorrect, haha, but this story follows a woman in her late 40s whose daughter, Lindy, announces she is married the same day all their backyard chickens turn up dead. The discovery of dead chickens prompts our narrator to recall her ex-husband’s murder and the role her daughter may have played in his death.

I love this story so much! I think this would make a great closing for my short story collection. It just has that vibe! I wrote this for my second fiction workshop. I thought I had to hand in the story a week earlier than I had to, so I panicked and wrote this in one sitting! Little did I know, I did not need to do that lol but I’m very happy because this story is so fun. We get to learn more about Arnold (her ex), his relationship with Lindy, and how that translates to Lindy’s relationship with her new husband, Malcolm. I LOVE true crime (I listen to about 3-4 hours of case coverage daily), and this is my first “true crime” story. Because of that, I’m very sus of a few details that probably wouldn’t slide in actual investigatory work, so I’ll also be working on that in a revision. My professor also gave me a great suggestion that may alter the story’s structure a bit, though I look forward to toggling with it in the future.

March

In March, I was really on a Criminal Minds kick lol. I’ve been watching this show since I was seven (oops), and dove into a rewatch since it hit Disney+! This story, “Where to Run When the Lamb Roars,” is very clearly Rachel watching 5 episodes of CM a day. Oops! We follow 14-year-old Astrid as she and her older half brother kidnap a young girl to sacrifice for their yearly ritual.

I knew a few things going into this story, but the main thing was that I did NOT want to show any details of a potential murder (if one even occurs). I really wanted to keep all of those elements off the page because this story is not about those events, but about Astrid’s relationship with her brother. They are a murderous duo, with Astrid actually being the dominant partner. I wanted to explore that. I knew her brother, Fox, was more of a submissive partner in their team, even when he used to do this same thing with his father when he was much younger (chilling!), and so it was a task to explore how this young girl’s desire for violence works. The end actually comes right before the story starts, one could say, but I like it for this reason. It really made me contemplate the story by the time I finished it, and helped me examine what it really was about versus what it appeared to be about.

April

(TW: sexual content, non explicit)

I was so busy this month! Who knows if I’ll write a story last minute, but I did write one story this month called “Five Times Fast.” I wrote this during a “writing sprint” that was being hosted at a flash fiction workshop I recently took with one of my favourite writers ever, K-Ming Chang. I learned so much from this class, and am so happy I came out of it with a draft! This story is just over 300 words, so the shortest flash I’ve ever written, but I’m really happy with it. It was based off the prompt “describe the last time you or your character was naked.” In this case, the narrator has a “friends with benefits” relationship with Ricky who works at a laundromat. This story highlights a moment in this relationship (and also Ricky’s goofy personality lol). I really like it! Hopefully I’ll submit it to some magazines soon.

My short story collection

Very briefly I wanted to touch on my short story collection which I’ve titled “She is Also Dead.” I’ve been meaning to make a blog post on this, so look out for that in the coming months, but this collection is already at around 35k words (about 14 stories so far). The collection also surprisingly has a solid amount of flash fiction which is kind of fun! There’s definitely a range here, which is what I personally love in short story collections.

I feel very professional now that I have a ~collection chart. This is her:

(image description: A chart with the title “She is Also Dead.” It is broken into four columns: Story, Status, Word Count, and Published. Entry 1 - Story: Slaughter the Animal. Status: Revisions, Word Count, 3982, Published: N/A. Entry 2 - Story: Joanne, I’ll Pray for You, Status: Polished, Word Count: 1809, Published: N/A. Entry 3 - Story: Primary Organs, Status: Published, Word Count: 2342, Published: The Malahat Review. Entry 4 - Story: Faberge, Status, Polished, Word Count: 619, Published: N/A. Entry 5 - Story: The Wolf-Antelope Will Not Come for Us, Status, Polished, Word Count: 1556, Published: filling Station (forthcoming). Entry 6 - Story: How to Spell Alpaca, Status: revisions, Word Count: 1327, Published: N/A. Entry 7 - Story: Blink Twice for Final Judgement, Status: Polished, Word Count: 6572, Published: N/A. Entry 8 - Story: The Species is Dead, Status: Published, Word Count: 1208, Published: Minola Review. Entry 9 - Story: Shark Swimming, Status: Polished, Word Count: 907, Published: N/A. Entry 10 - Story: The Party, Status, Polished, Word Count 2339, Published: N/A. Entry 11 - Story: Fig, Status: Polished, Word Counter: 947, Published: N/A. Entry 12 - Story: Protect the Young, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 4128, Published: N/A. Entry 13 - Story: Where to Run When the Lamb Roars, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 2174, Published: N/A. Entry 14 - Story: Phantom Limbs, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 4844, Published: N/A.) /end image description.

This order is DEFINITELY not permanent (at this point whenever I write a story, I just fit it randomly into this chart lol), and some of the info is outdated (for example, Slaughter the Animal is now polished!!! thank god!!!). But just an idea of what I’m thinking of including.

This is the summary so far:

In SHE IS ALSO DEAD, characters are pushed to act on their gravest impulses. A small town turns murderous when their local invasive species, the Janices, begin dying. A child struggles to understand her mother’s suicide. A college dropout who insists she’s being haunted by a poltergeist unexpectedly breaks up with her boyfriend. A mother acknowledges her daughter’s murderous tendencies after her backyard chickens mysteriously die. A young girl caters the funeral of a girl rumored to be killed by a wolf-antelope. A newly-divorced mother RSVP’s to a bizarre party she was not invited to, and a murderous brother and sister upkeep their yearly tradition of abducting a young girl. These stories follow characters who navigate death, violent desires, womanhood, and loss, both self-imposed and otherwise.

This is also so subject to change as I may pull and add stories to the collection!

I think I’m going to leave this update here for now! I’ve written TONS of poetry too, but I honestly ~hate my poetry right now lol, so! Hope you enjoyed this chill rambly update. Hope writing has going well for you all! All the best!

--Rachel

#writing #writeblr #writerblr #amwriting #writingupdates

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quirklessidiot · 4 years

Text

Title: coward :: pretty girl Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu Genre: angst, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion

Synopsis: : In which you finally meet the perfect girlfriend of Miya Atsumu and he starts to slowly accept the fact that whatever happened between you two is long gone (or is it?)

authors note:

here to give my thanks again, literally feels so surreal with how much love this story is getting despite the angst sjjsdjsjd i-

also ive released the prologue for my first ever smau! its a more lighthearted one compared to this one between sakusa and an older gn!reader, if you’re into that check it out here uwu

previous next masterlist

You’ve never actually seen Miya Atsumu and his girlfriend.

This was your first time today during Sugawara’s house party, Daiki had forced you to go and insisted that the three of them needed to have their manly bonding time (it actually only consisted of stuffing themselves with junk food and watching shounen animes), “...Also don’t you want to bond out with your ex-boyfriend that you chose over me? I’m hurt, I didn't know you like fake blonde volleyball players.” he fake-sniffled, in which you replied with an arched brow.

You didn’t know how he ended up knowing about Atsumu, you were expecting a talk from him but he simply shrugs it off and says, “No matter how much I tell you that you should tell him, you won’t listen. So I won’t bother wasting my breath, just know that you’re being selfish by denying these boys the right to have a father and you're denying that blonde shrimp to be a dad too.”

“Y/N-san, I’m surprised you came!” Sugawara grins.

“Daiki took charge of the kids.” You replied, fiddling with the keys in your hand.

“He looks very reliable.” the teacher exclaims, handing you a drink in which you completely deny because you weren’t very good with alcohol, “You guys would make a great couple!”

“Oh,” You voiced, you were very familiar with those words, many people had always thought you and Daiki would make a good pair. It was definitely a shock to many when they found out you were pregnant and that the basketball player was not the father despite being there most of the times, “I’ve never seen him that way.”

“He did mention that, he even openly confessed to Miya-san that he’s jealous of how he was your first boyfriend.”

You choked on your saliva, that fucking sly bastard-

“Anyways, make yourself comfortable! I have to go say hi to my old friends from college!” he exclaims, patting your shoulder. You immediately turn around to find Miya Atsumu cozying up with a beautiful girl in his arms.

Ah, that must’ve been the beautiful model with legs for days.

“You’re kind of staring.” comes a very familiar voice.

You want to roll your eyes but you decided against it, “I didn’t know you and Sugawara-san were close, Inunaki-san.” you greeted your annoying senior.

“Suga-san’s a friend to the whole team…” he grins, “Also, I’m just here to warn you that Osamu might be here later, he’s not as nice as Atsumu towards you.”

“You don’t have to remind me.”

“Come to think of it,” Shion Inunaki paused, tapping his chin in deep thought, “Atsumu still follows you around like a lost puppy. He’s been spending his off days with you instead of his girlfriend. I’m actually surprised he even brought her here today.”

“What are you implying?” You reply, feigning ignorance.

“Ah, L/N-san. I love how you still don’t care about my kohai’s feelings up till now.” He grinned, sarcasm oozing out of his sentence.

“Don’t be silly.” You glazed,“What feelings would there be but hatred?”

“It’s anything but that, L/N-san.” he turns to you, hand on his hip, “Even I don’t get why he’s so into you after all this time and the shit you put him through. He’s got someone better in front of him. Physical looks and emotionally speaking, Ri-chan’s a whole lot better than you… No offense…”

You knew he was rubbing salt to the injury but you couldn’t really bring yourself to argue with him, after all, he was right at the most part (you technically considered yourself as the big bad villainous ex in Atsumu’s life)

“You sound like those girls who used to threaten me back then when I was dating Miya-san.” You replied coolly, Inunaki even notices the amusement dripping in your tone, it's as if he hadn’t insulted you right at the face and called you a lesser being, “It’s almost pathetic.”

You ended up on the balcony right after, so much for trying to socialize, who were you kidding? It’s good you manage to escape the scene before Osamu could see you there, you couldn’t handle Inunaki and the grey-haired twin together. Thank god that Aran wasn’t around the area.

“Figured you’d be here.”

You turn to find the one and only source of all your problems these days, Miya Atsumu, you narrow your eyes in annoyance, “You should leave, people will get the wrong idea.” You simply replied, “I’m not in the mood to be in the middle of that.”

“I just came here because I wanted to apologize about that night with your brat.” the blonde casually leans against the doorway, “It was my fault for riling him up.”

“Yuuto has a temper, he’s more of his otosan than me.”

“What was he like?”

“Who?”

“The bastard that you miss, those brats father…”

You tilt your head and press your lips together, surprised by his choice of words, “Special.” you openly-confessed as you gaze at the very man in front of you. Oh, the irony of it all.

How you wish it was that easy to let go of all your fears and anxiety, if you had told him six years ago about your pregnancy, would your life probably be different? What if you told him now? How would he feel?

“He’s lucky,” he admits, gaze fixed on you, “I mean - other than the part that he died - he was a lucky guy, Y/N.”

It dawned upon you that moment that this had been the first conversation you had with your ex that held no hatred, malice, or anger. He seemed to be slowly accepting the fact that you wanted to do nothing with him. Like you, he had no choice but to move on.

“ ‘Tsumu! What the fuck you moping around alone for up there? You got a girlfriend here!” Osamu calls down from below. You both snap back to reality at his brother's voice, “Guess that’s my cue to leave, I’ll see you around, Y/N.” he uttered softly and as he turned away, you suddenly spoke out.

“I’m sorry.” He freezes in place, somehow this apology seemed different than the rest, “I know I’ve said that a lot these past few weeks and that night but I want you to know that every apology was genuine. I just, I’m not very-”

“I know.” He suddenly turns to you, the very familiar and warm grin that you're accustomed to decorates his features and you feel like its that night in fall and you're back in college again, “I guess I was so wrapped up in wanting to get an emotion out of you that I hadn’t realized, it’s not you if you did that. You always had trouble expressing yourself naturally to people after all.”

You feel your insides clamp and your lips tremble lightly, you feel the air turn heavy around you. How is that he was always the one pulling the strings and doing all the work between you two? How could he forgive you this easily?

“Don’t be silly.What feelings would there be but hatred?”

“It’s anything but that, L/N-san.”

“I’m proud that you’re trying hard for your kids though,” He chuckles, “Those brats are lucky they get to see all sides of you everyday.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight.” you muttered, watching his figure walk away and vanish in the dark, leaving you all alone in the night of spring.

“...I now pronounce you husband and wife…”

You stare at your father and his new wife looking at each other with complete love and adoration, something you never saw when you were growing up. It sickened you to the point that you turn slightly pale and feel the bile on your throat rise. You watch them exit the church as sakura petals fall, the idea of a picture perfect wedding and happily ever after like the fairytale books you used to scorn when you were a child.

You loathed it.

He even had the audacity to invite you and your mother. She ended up not going and was probably drowning herself in cheap saki at home.

You sat at the back during the reception, along with the people who were not exactly ‘close’ to the bride-groom. You feel like an utter fool, why were you even here? You should’ve gone home or attended that stupid party and get stupid drunk with people you barely knew like your mother.

Yeah, that’s right.

You’d rather be there than here.

“Ah,” you hear a glass clink, you saw one of your dad’s friends stand up, ready to make a speech, “First off, I’d like to congratulate my friend. Finally!” laughter resonates throughout the room but you don’t follow suit, instead, you hold onto the wine glass tightly as if you don’t like where this was going, “I know how unhappy you were back then but ever since you met Yui-chan, your life seemed to have become better. I could never be more proud!”

You could feel yourself getting sicker by the moment, especially after you heard the words you dreaded to hear the most, “Let’s not make anymore mistakes shall we?” he jokes.

All you could see was red right after, grabbing your clutch on the table as you made a haste exit. Was this the reason he invited you? To shove it on your face that you were a mistake made?

That you shouldn't have been born?

You ended up breaking a heel and tripping on your own feet soon after, shakily, you adjust your posture and sat at the concrete for a few moments, trying to gather yourself but desperately failing, "I didn't… I didn't ask to be born too, you know?" You murmured to yourself bitterly.

You let it all out, it shouldn't have hurt to be called a mistake. You were an adult already for crying out loud! Yet when they toss that word around like it was nothing especially at that wedding, you feel like you're eight years old again and you're hearing your own mother curse at you for being born into this world, the harsh words she said were as clear as the day, "if you probably hadn't been born, we would've been happier. We'd have better lives, Y/N. So don't go around and cry and think you got it bad, you hear me? Your sadness is nothing compared to ours. It's nothing, Y/N. So stop being ungrateful."

You ended up at the frat house that night, people would occasionally glance at your disheveled state but you just downed the alcohol, ignoring their stares as usual and when you get a text from your mother asking why you left the wedding so early in such a manner, you feel the pent-up emotions bubbling within you again.

Blocking her number and taking one last swig of the cheap vodka in your hands, you head up to one of the rooms upstairs. You hold it all in well, you don't want to showcase such things to strangers.You feel the alcohol and emotion about to hit you when you open a door that you thought would be your safe space for the next ten minutes but you're immediately greeted by two people on the bed, ready to hit it off and have a good time.

"O-Oh sorry… I-Wrong room...” you stammered, lips quivering and small tears escaping since you couldn't hold it in anymore.You immediately bolted out the door, So much for sobering up and crying by yourself for ten minutes, you might as well call Daiki, maybe he was available-

“Hey! Y/N!” a very familiar and a very unexpected voice calls out your name on the quiet street.

You hesitantly turn only to find your project partner and classmate standing there, a bit out of breath as if he had just squeezed through the very crowded party in a hurry, you're confused by his actions. You weren’t exactly close? What was he doing?

“Hey.” he softly says, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket to hand it to you. You hesitantly look at it and take it from his grasp as you try to get rid of the runny mascara. You're taken aback by his kind actions so far, although he had always been nice and tried to make conversations with you, you weren’t exactly very participative and it had always been one-sided on his part.

When he suddenly stopped talking to you recently, you didn’t bother to initiate anymore because you didn’t want to get more involved with people like him. It’s not like he was a bad person, per say, he just had such a loud presence that made everyone stop and stare. You weren’t exactly a big fan of those kinds of people (save for daiki since you grew up with him)

“Come on, Y/N.” the blonde sighs, taking off his jacket to place it on you, “Let's take you home.”

"You don't have to."

"You look like shit, Y/N. I’m not takin' no for an answer" Atsumu points out forwardly, "Actually, before we head home lets disinfect that wound, yeah?"

"Miya-san, I-" you tried to tell him you were fine but he didn’t seem to be having it.

"Atsumu." He corrects, despite his forwardness and brash attitude, you know he means well, "You let me call you by your first name so please don't call me Miya-san, sounds fuckin weird coming from ya."

You're thankful that he doesn't pry or ask questions about why you looked like this. He just mumbles throughout your whole journey that you shouldn't wear heels when you can't even walk on them.You also start to notice the slight accent from his tone when he got annoyed by your insistence that you were alright, you had always thought that he was a city boy with the way he carried himself.

When you arrive at the drugstore, he pays for the necessities himself despite you protesting again and even buys you a sugar-free treat on top of that, "You said you were diabetic one time." He shrugs off as he lets you sit on the concrete steps.

“Oh,” You faltered, “You remembered.”

“It’s one of the few things you said. You don’t talk to me that much so it's not hard to remember the things you say.”

“Sorry.” You tried to apologize, brows furrowed in deep thought and the only reply you got was a gleeful laughter from the blonde setter.

“You don’t really mean that do you?” he observed but he didn't look insulted by it at all, instead he seemed amused by it, “Don’t sweat it, Y/N. My twin told me I could be an annoying shit at times.”

“No,” you mused, “Not at all, you’re not annoying.”

Atsumu stares at you right in the eye, his corners crinkling just a bit as the amused smile never leaves his features, you’re starting to like it when you see him smile that way, it reminded you a lot of the youth you craved for, the problematic-free youth that you wanted and wished, “Is it safe to say that you don’t mind my company?” he guessed.

“Well, you’re here now and I haven’t left you.”

He doesn’t reply, instead he bends down to your level and takes the antiseptic and band-aids from your hands. Before you could object, the setter dabs it on your wound and as you seethe quietly in pain, he blows on it. You’re getting more and more perplexed by his actions tonight especially with the words he says next, “I may not be close with you to know what happened tonight but I hope I made you feel a little bit better, Y/N.”

The next time you see the professional volleyball player is at work,You’re tasked to send out some documents to your boss again and it just so happens they’re wrapping up the shoot for the advertisement at the studio.

Something’s different now.

After your little talk with him at the terrace, the air around you doesn’t feel tight, your anxiety around him seems to decrease, and your feet doesn’t get cold anymore. Of course, Inunaki would throw in a jab or insult but you took it like a good sport and didn’t bother with him.

“Ah, L/N-san! How are the boys?” Hinata jumps up and down excitedly as he sees you enter the studio, you still couldn’t get used to this big (small) bundle of energy.

“They’re doing fine, Hinata-san.”

“Oho, L/N-san, you’re looking better these days.” Inunaki teased, you gave him a brief nod and just ignored the jab, Atsumu slaps his seniors back in retaliation, “You’re not the one she broke up with Inu-san.” he joked, “Hey L/N-san.”

“Miya-san.” You greeted.

“Does Yuuto still want to skewer me like a kebab?”

“He feels sad that he wasn’t able to say sorry to you before you left.” You replied, a hint of amusement laced on your tone as you recalled Yuuto frowning on the dinner table the night before because Sugawara had informed the club members that Hinata and Atsumu wouldn’t be visiting as much because training was about to start.

“Shame, wanted to see that brat say sorry too.” He let out a grin, your conversation is cut short though when a new presence joins the room.

“Oh, Riku-chan!” Inunaki calls out.

You lick your dry lips as you see the very beautiful and tall raven-haired woman approach you, wow, Miya Atsumu outdid himself with this one. You recalled her being on Vogue magazine once and on tv a few times as a fashion model of an underwear brand.

“Oh, hey babe.” Atsumu greets, you note how stiff he became. He probably thought this would be an uncomfortable situation. The woman, unlike you, was very open with her affection. She gave him a brief kiss on his jaw.

Hinata greets her and you’re left wondering if you should excuse yourself before you could make Atsumu more uncomfortable by your presence but Inunaki, being an asshole, decides to make the choice for you, “L/N-san, this is Miyazaki Riku! I’m sure you know her, she’s a supermodel!” he introduces you to her.

“Good day.” You greet the model.

She tilts her head slightly, “Have we met before? You look very familiar.”

“She was my kohai back in Uni and Atsumu’s classmate!” Inunaki grins, patting your back, you hold back a glare since you didn’t want to make it more awkward than it was.

“Oh?” she chirped, immediately letting go of Atsumu’s hand, she grabbed onto yours, “What was he like? I bet he was so cool and chic back then too!”

Chic and Cool?

Memories of a rather clumsy and corny Miya Atsumu in college slowly wormed its way to your head and out of nowhere, you burst into a low chuckle. Inunaki was startled by the sudden reaction and Atsumu feels his insides mush up when he hears that very rare sound, “Yeah,” you croaked, shortly after recovering from your small laugh, “Definitely chic and cool.”

“That’s so cool! I definitely want to hear stories about you back in college, baby!”

“Maybe some other time,” you voice is back to its smooth and cool tone, realizing that you needed to leave from this uncomfortable conversation and start your job, “I have to finish up my work here and get home early.”

“That’s a shame, I could definitely tell you guys were close.” a frown tugs her lips as she notices how quick you were to say goodbye to her, “Bye, L/N-san!”

After that rather dry and one-sided enthusiastic conversation, you finish your work quickly and Daiki messages you just in time that he and the boys would pick you up, you say your goodbyes to your director, the staff, and the volleyball team. You don’t notice the lingering gaze of Atsumu as you left nor do you notice Inunaki telling him that he’s got his girlfriend right in front of him and he shouldn’t look your way.

They shortly wrap up right after and they’re ready to go home. After deciding that they’d all grab a good meal together (much to sakusa’s dismay), Atsumu feels his mood lighten up as they exit the studio to see you standing there along with Yuuto, unwrapping his onigiri. As he’s about to call the brat to talk to him and even drop in to say hi to you, he sees a familiar tall figure emerge from the convenience store with Youta in his arms.

The blonde decides against it.

“...You always had trouble expressing yourself naturally to people after all.”

He watches the interaction from afar and notes how easy it was for the man to interact with you, he even catches on an amused smirk from you as the man tries to tell you a joke, “Is that L/N-san?” he hears Riku ask, “I didn’t know she had a family, that’s so cute!”

Atsumu doesn’t really know what to say as he watches the domestic scene unfold in front of him, he was trying to move on, wasn’t he? Yet why can’t he look away?

“Baby? You alright there? You’ve been staring at the empty space for a while.” Riku calls out, sounding a bit worried as she snaps him out of his daze. You were already gone, probably far off with that scrub and the brats.

“I’m good.” he tried to affirm himself, wishing it was true, “I’m good.”

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#haikyuu imagines #haikyu!! fanfics #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu angst #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu scenarios #miya atsumu fanfiction #atsumu x reader #atsumu imagines #miya atsumu

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umbry-fic · 3 years

Text

nurture

Summary:

But just as a seed knows nothing but darkness and the press of soil upon it, until it finally breaks through the first layer and learns of the world above and its wonders, she knew nothing more than her mission. Knew not of emotions, not of memories, not of herself.

And thus began her growth.

A look at the moments Martel spends with Lloyd and Colette and how that changes her.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Summon Spirit Martel, Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving, Mentions of other characters Relationships: Martel & Colette Brunel, Martel & Lloyd Irving Rating: G Word Count: 9442 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 13/08/2021

Notes: This was written as a treat for @likes-words-and-shrimp as part of the Tales of Sweet Soda 2021 event organised by @talesofexchanges!

For context, this is based on my interpretation that Summon Spirit Martel is just Tabatha, but with a new body, new powers plus the memories of every soul trapped in the Great Seed. This fic also goes into DOTNW events, but isn't canon-compliant as to Martel's appearance in that game.

The original fic makes use of font changes that can't be translated onto Tumblr, but it doesn't affect much. You should be able to read the fic just fine!

~~~

Martel wasn’t just a summon spirit that acted as the guardian of the Yggdrasill Tree, tied to it in a complicated bond of mana. She was the World Tree, in spirit and soul.

In the instant she was born, from the passionate wish of a boy who fought to change the world to prevent any more suffering; from the love of a sister who had been torn apart from her brother through nothing but the cruelness of fate, and the many, many needless deaths that had spiralled out from that one event; from the body of a lonely automaton who only desired to understand the world, Martel was akin to nothing more than the sapling by her feet, which inherently knew that its sole goal was to grow. Born with the knowledge of her role in this world: to protect the World Tree, so long as the world still needed it, still wanted it.

And thus began her growth.

~~~

Martel spent most of her days kneeling by the World Tree, which did not yet reach her waist. With her staff stabbed upright into the dirt next to her, her fingers would rub at the small collection of leaves that clung to the sapling’s tiny branches, not even the same length as her arm. Not tending to it, no, because it didn’t need tending in the traditional sense. It didn’t need refreshing rain to drink from, nor fertile soil to draw nutrients from, nor plentiful sunlight to fuel its growth.

What it needed to flourish was the love and adoration of the people. For them to stop fighting amongst themselves, for the hatred that had stretched on for an eternity to be resolved, for the different races to stop putting each other down in order to declare themselves victors in a bloody competition that ultimately held no meaning.

She would maintain this position for any period of time - hours, days, even weeks - patiently awaiting any change. Time was of no concern to her. Her eyelids did not get heavy, her limbs did not start to shake, her mind did not become fogged. She was not mortal - she did not need rest.

In the blink of an eye, an entire week would pass.

The remainder of the endless time available to her was spent wandering the fields that surrounded the World Tree. This place that was now her home, for she could not leave, was expansive compared to the four walls that Tabitha had known, but claustrophobic compared to the lands others roamed freely. Within the circular constraints of this space tucked away from the world and known only to a select few, were many unexplored nooks and crannies.

She memorised every detail. Every rock, no matter big or small; every fallen log, moss snaking over each inch; every tree, whether it be reaching up to the heavens or barely topping her head; all the colourful animals that ran amok.

Sometimes, coming across certain sights dragged up vivid memories that belonged to the woman with whom she shared a name, but not a spirit. And attached to it, colourful emotions.

A cliff with thick and sturdy roots threading out of its surface that could act as neat little footholds and handholds.

Mithos climbed up to the top, all the time. Whenever we visited. He would sit there kicking his legs, laughing and asking me to join him. And when I did, we’d share some food. Usually a sandwich or two.

A log with a circle of daisies blooming around it, all of their heads turned towards the log like a gaggle of school children attentively listening to a teacher conduct a lesson.

That was Ratatosk’s favourite perch, regardless of what form he took, whether it be a person, a squirrel, or a bird of prey. Kratos planted those flowers. He said that he wanted to make it more colourful for Ratatosk.

A trickling brook, bordered by wild berry bushes.

Yuan would gather the berries. They were always incredibly sweet, and juice would explode in our mouths with each bite. We’d feed them to each other, and then laugh at the mess we made.

Martel would simply shake her head, attempting to clear the voice that was both her own and not, that seemed to fill every corner of her mind, trumping every other thought. She would walk on, unsure what to do with the sudden emotion flooding her heart, enough to make her unsteady on her feet. Relentlessly haunting her were the many ghosts of Martel Yggdrasill, for she had inherited them. And while she held many sets of memories belonging to all who had been sacrificed to the Great Seed, Martel Yggdrasill’s were the most prominent, in this place that had been pivotal to her life, and that harboured the ruins of wishes once held dear.

She was used to holding an incredible amount of information, able to retrieve any of it at once, for Tabitha’s android form was perfectly suited to act as a database. Gone, however, was her ability to compartmentalise and block out certain pieces of information. She dearly missed it.

She was familiar only with three individuals. The first two came as a pair - Lloyd Irving and Colette Brunel, whose faces she already knew from Altessa’s house. People she knew as “kind”, even though she struggled to understand what exactly that meant.

Her first meeting with them as Martel, rather than Tabitha, was right here. She had given them the role of guardians to the fragile sapling, such that they could join her in safeguarding the world’s mana.

She could vividly remember the awed expressions on their faces - the shine in Colette’s eyes, Lloyd’s gaping mouth. Their fervent enthusiasm in protecting this world’s future. They had departed not soon after Lloyd had given the Tree its name, saying that they had to check in on their friends, but left her with a promise to return.

The third individual was Yuan Ka-Fai. A face she knew, once again, from memories that were not her own. He kept away, for the most part, in a little shack he’d built with the help of his Renegades. It was for the best - it didn’t seem like he wanted to see her, and looking upon his face brought a stinging pain which she couldn’t make heads-or-tails of. A field of contradictions from which there was no escape.

There was a fourth, one that she couldn’t physically see, and could only feel the traces of in the lingering mana particles in the air. The ghost of the previous guardian of the World Tree, who had been ruthlessly ripped apart by people who did not even know of his existence, his essence scattered to the wind.

Days passed, much the same as each other. There was an emptiness in her heart, a hole that grew wider with each day and could not be filled. Not by her aimless wandering, at least.

What was it that she yearned for?

She herself did not know the answer.

~~~

It was a day indistinguishable from any other when she first put down roots.

The sun was out of sight, hidden behind grey clouds, the land duller in colour for the lack of illumination. Martel was seated on a stump, the log having long rotted into nothingness, staff resting in her lap and eyes closed as she let herself sink into the peaceful embrace of nature. The wind caressing her skin, the sweet scent wafting from the nearby flower field. The rustling of the leaves above her head, the bubbling of the brook, the birdsong drifting into her ears.

The sudden crunch of branches pierced through her bubble of calm, too loud to be caused by a woodland critter. Her eyes snapped open, fingers wrapping around her staff tightly.

Only to spot, in the distance, the familiar figures of a golden-haired girl dressed in white robes and a brown-haired boy dressed entirely in red, making their way over to her across the flower fields. She released the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

There were no intruders. Not at the moment.

Still on guard, she stood, awaiting their arrival.

“Is something wrong?” she asked the moment they stopped before her, words sharp as a knife.

Was there a threat approaching the World Tree, was there a need to-

“Huh?” Just like that, her thought process was shattered by Lloyd, who rubbed the back of his head in confusion. “No, I… I don’t think anything’s wrong.”

“Then why are you here?” Her mind skidded to a halt completely, her grip on her staff loosening, though the tension remained in her raised shoulders.

“To visit. We were passing through the area, so we thought we might as well.” Colette said, cocking her head. “Does there need to be another reason for us to come here?”

To… Visit…?

“Yeah. We promised we’d be back, didn’t we?” Lloyd said, shrugging as he sat down by the stump, without a care for the wet grass, water droplets still clinging to the blades from the morning rain. Colette took a seat next to him, a wide smile on her face that brought the colour back - the green of the leaves, the brown of the bark.

Their promise…?

Martel had paid little heed to it. It was not an oath. They had no obligation to keep it, no penalty from breaking it, and she had thought it just a common courtesy that held no weight.

After all, why would they return here? There was no reason to. What could possibly be found here, other than the remnants of shattered dreams and the bitter taste of betrayal?

“Sit back down!” Colette gestured to the tree stump. “It’s uncomfortable to keep standing, right?”

“I… Alright…?” she muttered. In truth, she would not get tired, or feel physical discomfort. She couldn’t help but listen to Colette, though. Taking a hesitant step back, and then another, until her legs hit the stump and she sat down. Her back was ramrod straight and she maintained a grip on her staff.

She still didn’t understand why they had come, and it didn’t seem like they were planning to provide an answer.

And one didn’t come, in the few hours they spent here. Instead, the two of them broke out into conversation. Not just amongst themselves, but with her. Filling her in on what they had been up to in the months since the two worlds had become one.

Their journey across the reunited world to collect every Exsphere, to save the whispers and stories and souls contained within each tiny sphere, just as Tabitha had once told Lloyd to do within a cave of luminous green. The towns and sights they had come across, described with so much life behind their voices that Martel felt as if she was no longer sitting on a tree stump, but instead on a bench on a cobbled street, the smell of baking bread drifting through the air.

Lloyd waved his arms around wildly while Colette giggled into her hand - an outburst of energy, against which she was helpless to do anything but absorb every word. But they didn’t stop there. They went on to ask her questions, to ask her what she thought. She didn’t answer, apart from simple shakes or nods of the head, even to open-ended answers where “yes” and “no” were no longer sufficient. Lloyd and Colette didn’t linger on her awkward non-answers, or try to drag answers out of her. They just moved on.

They did not ask her if she’d like to go to these places one day, knowing that she never could.

Martel didn’t quite know how to act. She had never spent this much time with Lloyd and Colette before. They had talked to her back at Altessa’s, sure - they were the ones to seek her out the most, actually. But even then, they were always rushing to places, their plates full with everything that they had to do.

Not like this, where their boundless energy spilt forth without anything to curb it, washing over her.

By the time they left, waving goodbye as she remained still as a stone, Martel’s head was in a whirl from the influx of information she had received. She was exhausted, yet not tired at the same time. Another inexplicable contradiction.

There was a gentle warmth, like rays of sunlight cutting through gaps in the clouds and kissing her skin.

But the sun was still smothered in a layer of clouds, so from whence did this warmth come from?

~~~

Now that the sapling had put down more roots, little buds could start to form on the branches, not yet ready to open and show their flowery faces.

~~~

Colette and Lloyd continued to return every few weeks, to Martel’s utter surprise. They checked in on the World Tree, asking Martel each and every time if they were allowed to touch the fuzzy leaves and dangling branches. Martel would nod, and watch them with eagle eyes as they handled the sapling with the utmost care, muttering well-wishes and cheering over every inch it gained. Colette, on rare occasions, would squat next to the sapling, humming a song that was pleasant to the ears. Perhaps she believed the old wives’ tale that singing to a plant could make it grow faster. Even though it was utterly foolish, Martel couldn’t help but join Lloyd in smiling at the sight.

They continued to regale her with tales of their travels, the three of them sitting around different locations in the clearing - by the stump, on the log, beside the river - her staff never far from her. Eventually, Lloyd and Colette began to bring along tiny souvenirs that they pressed into her palm, which Martel would hesitantly curl her fingers around.

A tiny lantern charm. A statuette of some strange monster she didn’t recognise. Snacks, even - crispy chips in foil packets, fruit tarts wrapped in pretty packages, fruits which exploded with juice in the mouth. She did not require food to survive, but she still ate the gifts, letting Colette and Lloyd’s words wash over her as she tasted sweetness on her tongue and left sugar on her lips. She kept the souvenirs in a little box Lloyd had made for her, one that he claimed was blessed by the elemental Summon Spirits such that it could withstand the rain and sunshine. That seemed a tad impossible. Wasn’t that too much effort to go through? It was more likely that Lloyd was exaggerating. The box never succumbed to rot, however, so she had to take Lloyd at his improbable word.

Eventually, Martel mustered up the courage to answer one of their questions, even if she didn’t know if her answers were logically correct. The fact of the matter was, there probably weren’t correct answers, to begin with. Lloyd grinned, and then further roped her into the conversation. The nervousness had seemingly vacated, almost like it had never been there, as she found herself relaxing in Lloyd and Colette’s familiar company. She was still relatively quiet compared to the endless stream of words that came out of their mouths, but she was comfortable enough to talk, and sometimes even laugh a little at the funny stories they told. Listening no longer left her exhausted to the bone.

She learned to wave as the two children always did, an action she had observed from her days as Tabitha and knew was one of the many practices of “saying farewell”. The first time Martel had done so, barely catching their attention before they left, Colette’s eyes lit up, and she waved back enthusiastically, cupping her hands over her mouth and yelling “goodbye”, the word floating across the distance between them and catching in Martel’s heart.

Walking around yielded fewer shards reflecting the distant past that pricked her heart and made it bleed, but rather crystals of memory showing the two children who kept visiting despite there being no logical reason to do so.

They came here for the simple purpose of meeting her, and she couldn’t wrap her head around that. All she knew…

Was that the hole in her heart was slowly being filled, by the sunny warmth that she now knew was happiness.

An emotion that was almost foreign. For once upon a time, emotions had been nothing more than the result of a series of interwoven conditions, dull and without meaning. She had witnessed only glimpses of true emotions, arising due to errors in the code - or perhaps an evolution, for they were one and the same.

Still, she didn’t understand why a hole had arisen in the first place.

She looked forward to every visit, her ears primed to listen for any little noise, her head perking up every time she heard their footsteps.

Martel hoped Lloyd and Colette would keep making the nonsensical decision to return.

~~~

The World Tree now reached Martel’s waist, the leaves on each branch no longer alone. More buds had made their appearance, tiny spots of pale pink among the dense clusters of deep green.

The branches were a little sturdier now, and birds took to perching upon it, their talons resting on the bark as they chirped joyfully.

But growth always came entangled with challenges.

The change of seasons brought with it stronger winds, mercifully ripping leaves from their rightful places and leaving them to fall gracelessly to the ground, where they were trampled upon by animals without a second thought, noticed by none.

~~~

The Centurion Cores posed a threat not just to the World Tree, but to the world at large. If the wrong person got their hands on them, they could wreak havoc and destruction upon the world. And if they led to Ratatosk’s awakening… There would be no telling what would happen. Even here, Martel could feel the writhing hatred of the previous Summon Spirit, fighting to be unleashed upon the world.

The Cores needed to be gathered and dealt with before any of that could happen.

But no mere person could handle the Cores. Touching them would allow their power to crawl within one’s mind, flooding it with insidious whispers, easily driving anyone without sufficient protection insane.

Which meant Martel could leave the job to only one individual.

Lloyd came alone, without Colette in sight, having been called by Yuan. Martel delivered the news in a flat tone, keeping watch on Lloyd’s expression - the way it crumbled into pieces before her eyes, and then was carefully built back up again into a mask of neutrality. It was not something she’d thought Lloyd capable of, but here was a demonstration, right in front of her.

He did not voice any objection, did not try to shirk the heavy responsibility she was about to set on his shoulders. He simply accepted her words with a nod and chose to silently bear the consequences they brought. He understood that someone had to do it, and he was willing to do anything to protect this world and the people he loved.

Martel saw that. She saw his unbreakable will, and the all-encompassing love he held for this world and the people that meant everything to him. She knew that he was the right choice, perhaps the only choice.

So what was this ache in her heart, as she watched Lloyd leave alone, struggling to keep his head aloft?

~~~

A sapling required care to grow, whether it be by nature’s impartial hands or the gentle touch of a loving gardener.

Through the friendship that Lloyd and Colette had offered to her, Martel had experienced the sunlight that was happiness.

Now it was time to learn of the torrential storm that was grief and despair, and the intruding rot that was guilt.

~~~

Silence reigned supreme again, broken only by small pockets of noise when Lloyd and Colette returned, the atmosphere nowhere near as happy and relaxing as before. Never at the same time, of course, for that could not be allowed to happen. And at a much smaller frequency than before, irregular.

Lloyd was quiet most of the time, taking advantage of the safety provided by the boundaries of this space to take a quick nap, one that sometimes stretched into an hours-long sleep. He did not stir at all, thoroughly exhausted to the bone, except for nightmares which twisted his mouth into a grimace and furrowed his brow, unshed tears pooling beneath his eyelids. Even in sleep, he refused to cry.

Perhaps he was tired of putting up an act all the time, of hiding from and lying to his friends. Perhaps he was exhausted from being accused by the entire world and having fingers pointed at him no matter where he went. Perhaps he was sick of being on his guard at all times, even when he was in his most vulnerable position of sleep. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…

There were so many reasons for his spirit to be at breaking point, so many reasons for him to want to curl up into a ball and never face the world again.

Martel would not disrupt his much-needed and much-deserved rest. She simply placed a blanket she’d squirrelled from Yuan’s shack (which she hoped Yuan wouldn’t miss) on Lloyd, tucking it in around his shoulders and watching over him until he woke up. After which, he would leave to continue his mission, back small and forlorn.

Did he, like her, now see ghosts here? All the times he’d come here with Colette… Were those happy memories being turned against him, making him yearn for the past and dread the future?

The silence was draining, closing in upon her heart and dragging it down into murky depths.

Colette, on the other hand, seemed much the same as before. She continued to talk non-stop, actions animated, a smile drawn on her face. If someone didn’t look closely, they would not see past the mask she had effortlessly painted on with a brush gripped in expert fingers. Would not see that the light in her eyes had dimmed, would not hear the occasional tremble in her voice.

Would not realise that she never brought up Lloyd.

Martel didn’t mind playing along, at least at first, talking about whatever topic Colette brought up and nothing more. The stranglehold around Martel’s heart tightened with each visit, however, as more storm clouds gathered above Colette’s head, her voice getting less and less enthusiastic. Until Martel couldn’t stand it anymore, opening her mouth to ask if Colette was alright.

And the dam broke under the insurmountable pressure, Colette sobbing profusely into her hands, sounding like her heart was being ripped into tiny shreds that could never be put back together. Martel desperately tried to pull on someone, anyone’s memories on how to comfort a crying child. Yet at this most vital of moments, the lives that had always tormented her remained frustratingly out of reach, leaving her to awkwardly rub Colette’s back.

At least a weight seemed to have left Colette’s shoulders after the tears dried up, leaving behind nothing but quiet acceptance. She returned to talking to Martel, her smile somehow more genuine, her voice no longer injected with false cheer, her vulnerability shining through. Colette let herself lapse into silence sometimes, and the two of them would simply listen to the sounds of nature around them instead of trying to fill it with fake noise.

There were moments when Martel thought she felt the burn of Colette’s gaze on her back. But the moment she whirled around to catch her, there would be nothing for her to see. Colette’s head would be bowed, nothing but a smile visible on her face.

But it happened so many times that it couldn’t be her imagination. Yet she didn’t know what to make of it.

And when completely alone, Martel did little things, like practice the manipulation of mana. Things the other Summon Spirits had had millennia to master, but that she was a complete beginner in. The mana bent to her will, but she wasn’t certain how exactly to direct it to accomplish the simple task of breaking down her staff and reconstructing it.

She wasn’t just trying to learn how to be a better Summon Spirit, to learn the practices of all the others. She was attempting to ignore the hole in her heart that she was all the more aware of now, for she had finally figured out why it existed.

The silence. The lonely, empty silence.

Even when she’d been Tabitha, there had never been a day when she was alone. Not even her first, for Altessa had already been there, bringing her to life. And he had never left - from the dark, oppressing halls of Cruxis, to the cosy, if slightly mildew-infested house in Tethe’alla. He was not the most talkative of persons, but the house had always been filled with the sounds of life: the hammering in the forge, the thunk of the knife on the chopping board, the creak of doors opening throughout the house.

Then Lloyd, Colette and their companions had arrived at the front door on their quest to reunite the two worlds. And that led to Mithos staying there, who brought a lot more noise by always engaging Altessa in conversation. It might have all been a front. Mithos may have been actively avoiding looking at her. But she still wanted to believe that somewhere under the trickery and deceit, there had been something genuine.

She now knew the answer to the question she’d been asking herself. What she yearned for was companionship.

And in the deafening silence, with nothing to occupy her, she was left to contemplate the many questions that rose to the surface. Questions that she could only consider now, having broken free of the box that her mind had once been constrained to by algorithms, and come to understand the complicated, illogical matters of the heart.

Martel would stare for hours into the brook, observing the features of her face, feeling them with careful fingers. This face that was hers, yet also belonged to another woman.

When others looked at her, who did they see? For Mithos, Kratos, if any of them were still here on this world, and especially Yuan, it must have been Martel Yggdrasill. And the rest of the world did not yet know of her existence and likely never would, hidden from prying eyes. Her existence held nothing but pain in the eyes of some.

Would Altessa still see Tabitha, an android who struggled with emotion but in the end loved this world, even if she did not know how to put that expression into words? Would her existence then hold a bittersweet love, but also the stinging reminder of failure and the typhoon of guilt that could easily carry someone away in its overwhelming power?

Would the other Summon Spirits recognise her as one? Would Ratatosk, if he was still here, recognise her as the guardian of the World Tree?

Or was she something else altogether?

~~~

Who am I?

The words were spinning around in Martel’s head once again, like a merry-go-round gone out of control. She was trying, and failing, to push it down, wanting to just soak in Colette’s company without any distraction.

Colette was leaning her head against the hard bark of a tree, legs stretched out before her and hands resting in her lap, gaze steadily trained on the sky and the birds that flew free within it. Martel, on the other hand, was standing, staff abandoned in the grass.

Martel didn’t pose the question, even though Colette might hold the key to unlocking the answer. The two of them were quite similar, after all - both failed vessels who had now been given a new purpose in a reconstructed world. Perhaps Colette would know the answer, or at least know where to start.

This was her problem to deal with. She had no right to ask anything of Colette. Not after the grievous wound she had dealt to the girl’s heart. To ask anything of her would be pure selfishness.

“Hm,” Colette said, breaking the silence. She drew her knees up to her chest, resting her chin upon them as her fingers grabbed at tufts of grass, uprooting them. “That’s an interesting question.”

“Oh.” The word slipped out of Martel’s mouth, just as the previous ones had, without her meaning to but unable to be stopped. The question had consumed her entire mind like a parasite until she failed to differentiate between thought and speech.

“No need to be sorry.”

Sorry? She hadn’t…

“I’ve been thinking about that question too,” Colette continued, moving past Martel’s scattered thoughts. “And it’s simple, really.”

How was it simple? How was she anything more than the memories she had inherited, and the face she presented? Yet she could never be Martel Yggdrasill, and she was no longer Tabitha.

So who was she?

“It’s just like Lloyd said, you know?” Colette whispered, pain dripping from her first mention of Lloyd’s name in weeks, her gaze shifting down. “You’re you. You’re Martel, so that’s who you are. Not Martel Yggdrasill, just Martel. And who that is is something you decide, and no one else.”

“I decide…?”

That confused Martel even more. Were people not the amalgamation of who others perceived them as? Was that not even more the case for Summon Spirits, who partly drew their power from the prayers of others, and was therefore most at the mercy of how others viewed them?

“I know it’s hard. Maybe it doesn’t make that much sense. Most things don’t, not really. But it’s what Lloyd said, and I believe him. I always will.” The corners of Colette’s lips lifted into a hopeful smile. “You are who you are. Take your time.”

Time was the one thing Martel had too much of, and the one thing she would never run out of.

“Okay, enough moping around!” Colette declared with gusto, nearly scaring Martel into dissipating into mana, a feat that she had not managed to accomplish on her own. Yet now, bright, tiny particles were flying from the tips of her fingers.

Colette scampered to her feet and grabbed Martel’s hand, not giving her the chance to retrieve her staff before she was dragged off in the direction of the flower fields.

“What are you doing?!” Martel asked, voice two pitches higher than usual, too shocked to do anything but go along, trying her very best to calm her racing heartbeat down. How ridiculous this must look, for her to be led by a girl an entire head shorter than her. Even more ridiculous if someone were to know that she was a Summon Spirit, and Colette was a human. The power disparity was rather silly.

“Bringing you to go make flower crowns.” Colette grinned mischievously, stepping into the thousands of flowers that bloomed, like a blanket of white that stretched beyond the horizon. Her eyes twinkled with that old shine Martel had not seen in a while. “You haven’t done it before, have you?”

“N - no, but -”

“Now's a great time to try! It’s something every child should do.”

“I’m not a child,” Martel whispered, hands shaking as she withdrew from Colette’s grasp. Petals rained down all around them, taken from the flowers and scattered into the sky by the wind.

She was still a weak Summon Spirit, for she drew her power from the World Tree, and it was not yet grown. She would be bested by any of the others, even the mischievous Sylphs. Yet power still crackled beneath her skin, which she could easily release from her fingertips. Even if she was resolved not to use it unless something directly threatened the World Tree, and only if absolutely necessary, it was still there.

No child was meant to wield that much power.

Perhaps she had been childlike as Tabitha, possessing more knowledge than any child should, yet unable to process the workings of the world in the way others did. But even then, she had not been a child.

She had never been a child.

“Neither am I,” Colette replied, turning back. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, a futile effort as a gust of wind blew, catching the golden strands within. Stray white petals caught in their hair, getting lost within. White peeking out among green and yellow. “But… Everyone deserves to be a child at least once. And who says you aren’t allowed to?”

There was a sad tinge to Colette’s smile. And in her silhouette, Martel could see another child. And another, and another, and another, within the memories she safeguarded - the many children who never had the chance to be a child, that chance ripped away by the flames of war or the cruelty of others or the destructive power of grief.

“Come on. I promise, it’ll be fun!” Colette proclaimed, sitting down cross-legged and patting the flowers next to her.

Martel hesitantly sat down, accepting the handful of flowers Colette threw into her lap. A few were small when she picked them up, sitting in the centre of her palm, easily crushed into smithereens to leave not a trace behind. So fragile.

“It might be difficult at first, but just follow my instructions and you’ll eventually get the hang of it…”

She let Colette’s voice guide her, following her every word. And just as Colette said, she got the hang of it pretty quickly, until her first-ever flower crown lay in her hands.

She stared down at it, rubbing the rough stems that were, thankfully, devoid of any thorns. It had been surprisingly fun to lose herself in the monotony of threading stems together with her head bowed over her lap, letting time slip by. A completely unproductive activity meant only for children, that she would have never thought to try on her own…

Would it be as enjoyable without Colette by her side?

“Yours is great!” Colette congratulated her, the rapid movements of her hands coming to a halt as she scooted closer to peek at Martel’s flower crown.

“Oh, it’s nothing compared to yours…” Martel snuck a glance at Colette’s lap, where three completed flower crowns were stacked atop each other. Colette was in the process of making a fourth, her progress scarily fast. And all of her flower crowns were beautifully done, with intricate knots and twining stems, the petals undamaged and the flowers cheerfully open to the sun. Colette must be extremely experienced, something she could never hope to match. Hours of hours with Lloyd, most likely.

“No, no, I mean it! And you can only improve with time!” Colette grinned, picking up the topmost flower crown in her stack and reaching her arms up.

Frozen, Martel watched the journey of the crown, knowing what the final destination was - upon her head, where Colette set it down with careful hands. Still, she could not help but reach up and feel the soft petals of the crown, sitting lopsided such that one side fell over her right eyebrow. It was light, yet at the same time, she could feel its weight, and the slight scratch of the stems against her skin.

“Keep it,” Colette said, as if anticipating the objections that Martel was about to voice.

“I… Alright,” Martel replied, releasing her grip and lowering her hand. “But if you insist…”

She took her own flower crown and placed it gently on Colette’s curls, the white standing out among the gold. It did not measure up to Colette’s, but... “Have mine in return.”

This was all that she could do, even if it was just a small thing.

“Thank you.” Colette laughed, that familiar sound that seemed to bring in spring, the flowers around her turning their heads towards her to listen.

Colette continued to weave ever more flower crowns as Martel lay down upon the fields, hair spread below her as she shut her eyes, folding her hands over her heart. Colette hummed the familiar little tune that she hummed to the World Tree, almost like she was wishing for Martel’s growth, for her to put down roots where she lay and burst into glorious bloom.

With Colette’s melodious voice washing over her, she drifted off into sleep. And in the images that played out against her closed eyelids, the two of them were just normal girls, having fun in the fields without a care in the world, shoulders completely free of any burdens, hands clean of blood, and hearts still whole.

~~~

Whether it was a temporary moment of strange lucidity or a dream born of hovering in the state between wakefulness and sleep, Martel didn’t know. When she awoke, a strange memory floated to the surface, its contents shrouded in grey - Colette, staring at her with a knowing glint in her eyes. The girl did nothing more, only bent down and swiped away a petal on Martel’s cheek with a gentle finger. The petal rested in her hand for a moment before it was blown away by the wind, disappearing into nothingness in the sky.

Gone…

Yet when Martel sat up, colour rushing back into her vision, Colette was asleep on her side, the numerous flower crowns she had completed scattered by her side. Her fingers curled close to her chest, strands of hair moving slightly in the wind that had calmed to nothing more than a weak breeze that teased. She looked utterly at peace, furrows washed away.

And it was like nothing had ever transpired - both the strange vision, and the events of the past, dipped in misfortune.

~~~

After Colette left, Martel kept the flower crown, infusing it with a tiny bit of magic to ensure the flowers remained just as pristine as when Colette gave it to her.

It was a silly use of her power. Flower crowns were not meant to last. They fell apart with time, the petals curling as rot crawled up the stems, abandoned at the end of childhood. The flowers were long dead, after all.

She could call her actions childish, even.

So, why?

It was a gift. From a friend.

That was the only reason required. It was just that simple.

And as Colette had said… Who was stopping her from being childish?

~~~

On the World Tree, the first bud burst into bloom.

~~~

“He was so fluffy! I really hope I get to see Timmie again.”

Colette finished her latest passionate tirade about dogs, this time about a “positively adorable little one” she had met in Luin. She could spend a whole hour going on and on about her “exciting adventures”, which mostly amounted to running circles around town with the dog, all her worries seemingly forgotten. “A dog can make any day better!” she had exclaimed once, and Martel was truly starting to believe that.

With one final stroke in the soil, Colette completed her rough sketch of Timmie, dropping the stick she was using.

“Cute,” Martel agreed, trying to imagine Timmie in full colour from just the sketch. Despite the surprising amount of details Colette had managed to infuse into her drawing - such as the rounded snout, stubby legs and droopy ears - Martel was still having quite some trouble. Her imagination wasn’t that great, and she’d never seen a real-life dog before.

“So, I hope you enjoyed my adventures with Timmie! I know I’m not always the best storyteller,” Colette said, rifling through her rucksack and pulling out something wickedly sharp that glinted under the sunlight. “But now I need to run an idea past you.”

Martel squinted at the object in Colette’s hands, making it out to be...

A pair of scissors.

Instinctively, she took a step back, fingers reaching for her staff - only to come to the stark realisation that it was nowhere near her. She’d left it by the river, where Colette had taken a quick rest by dipping her feet in the soothing waters. And in her panic, she was unable to summon it.

Scissors were supposed to be a fairly innocent object, something used to cut fabric or paper. Yet the sight of anything remotely sharp brought back memories of desperate women caked in blood, wielding whatever they could get their hands on in a last-ditch effort to protect their children from being carted off by men in uniforms which sported the crest of an opposing kingdom, taken as liberty to commit whatever evils they desired. Memories of hugging a child close, praying that they would not be next.

And even more sinister, the thought of anything cutting into the World Tree, tiny and vulnerable.

For whatever purpose would Colette be carelessly wielding that for?

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Colette gasped, realising her mistake and quickly hiding the pair of scissors behind her back. She and Lloyd had always taken great care not to spook Martel with their weapons, ensuring that they were in plain sight, (for it would not be reasonable to leave them without any capability to protect themselves,) their hands never straying anywhere close to them. They knew how skittish Martel was around sharp objects. In Colette’s excitement to share, she had clearly forgotten.

“It’s… It’s alright. You didn’t mean anything by it,” Martel replied, wringing her hands together to try and overcome the feeling that they were too empty. Honestly, she was overreacting. Colette only meant well. Martel couldn’t see her ever doing something with malicious intent.

“Sorry,” Colette muttered, still guilty. “But, you see, I was thinking about how Summon Spirits can change their appearances. Like how Gnome takes on this giant animal that Dirk says is a mole? I don’t think you’ve learned to do that yet, so I was wondering if you’d like me to cut your hair for you.”

“My hair…?” Martel pondered, picking at one of the many green strands that ran down her shoulders. Despite her absolute lack of care and the sometimes volatile weather, her hair had remained lustrous, not a single knot within the long, flowing locks that reached her hips.

“Yep,” Colette said, her hand landing on Martel’s shoulders as she began to slowly push her towards a boulder that was of a suitable height and flatness to act as a comfortable seat. “I thought you might want to… Well, separate yourself from the other Martel. Only if you want me to, though! It’s your decision!”

They came to a stop by said boulder as Colette patiently awaited her answer, still studiously keeping the scissors out of sight.

“I’d like that,” Martel replied. She could not yet change her face, but perhaps changing the length of her hair would make staring into her own reflection less painful, make it feel less like she was looking at a ghost who should have long departed this world.

“Then, sit down!” Colette gently pressed Martel down onto the rock, disappearing from Martel’s view as she took her position behind Martel. “And relax. This might take a while, so sorry for that...”

The tension refused to leave Martel’s shoulders, a part of her still preparing for the cold of metal against her throat, for the coppery tang of blood to fill her nose. The panic of leaving herself fully vulnerable was crowding out all else, which she could recognise as extremely stupid in the one rational part of her mind that remained.

She wielded more than enough magic to protect herself from mortals, even without her staff to channel it properly.

Weapons that were not her own just seemed to overpower all rational thought, it seemed.

Martel felt Colette minutely shift behind her, bringing the scissors up to her hair.

“If you need me to stop at any time, just tell me, alright?”

Martel was about to nod, before realising that that was a bad idea. She should not be moving her head right now.

So she didn’t respond. Even amidst the panic, she trusted Colette not to hurt her.

Snip.

The sound of the first cut was impossibly loud in her ears.

I used to cut Mithos’ hair, sweeping the loose strands off his shoulders as I trimmed the ends.

But no one ever cut my hair…

“I actually gave Sheena a haircut a while back. She wanted to try out something new! Um, it didn’t turn out too well, so I hope this time goes better…”

Snip.

“Sorry if your hair turns out jagged. Practice makes perfect, but I’ve only been able to practice on Noishe, and he’s not the most eager participant. Don’t think he feels happy over being a guinea pig. He keeps running away, and that means his fur gets all messed up over being caught in the scissors! Silly Noishe.”

Snip.

Colette continued to blather on, until she ran out of topics related to hairdressing and had to scramble for the most mundane of things to talk about. The upbeat tone of her voice drowned out the sound of the blades snapping together, until it faded away altogether.

Martel’s eyes slipped close, fingers releasing from their interlocked state. The wind carried away her hair like it did petals, leaving no trace behind, like there had never been anything there in the first place.

“And we’re done!”

Martel’s eyes snapped open at the sudden clap of Colette’s hands. The sun had shifted into the apex of its arc, and Colette was now in front of her, bending down a little to observe Martel’s new haircut.

How much time had passed? She must have drifted away…

“How do you like it?” Colette asked, gesturing towards Martel’s hair.

Martel reached up a hand, finding nothing at her shoulders. She went up higher to grip the ends of her now much shorter hair, which reached only to her chin. The difference in weight was disorienting. She felt so much lighter, like whatever had been pressing on her chest had been lifted.

Perhaps it wasn’t just the loss of hair. Perhaps it was much, much more.

“I like it,” she replied, heart swelling. Both with happiness, and with the dark grip of guilt.

Colette had done so much to help her, and for nothing in return, even as Martel continued to hide the truth from her. A truth that had taken on a ghastly life of its own and cast its shadow upon the both of them.

“I’m glad, Martel!” Colette said, plopping down on the dirt. “Oh, would you still like to be called Martel? If you don’t like that name, I can call you something else.”

“No,” Martel replied immediately, and with much more surety than she herself had thought possible. “It’s like you said. The name is mine, and I am my own person. I don’t want to give it up.”

She may hold Martel Yggdrasill’s memories, but they would not define her existence, and neither would they restrain her from making new memories of her own. Neither would any of the other memories she held, though she would continue to protect them, for they were worth protecting.

“Alright!” Colette cocked her head, smile growing even sunnier, if that was possible. “Do you want to hear more about the dogs I met at Luin? There was another one that I named Clay, and he’s so cute! Oh, I’d like to pet him again!” she squealed.

“Sure. But before that…” Martel took a deep breath, preparing the next two, simple words. Words that she had not uttered before, but that she had heard countless times, both in memories and in life, and that was long overdue. “Thank you. For everything.”

There had never been a meaning behind “thank you” before. It was nothing more than an in-built command. And while she understood the purpose the words played, there was no significance behind them. Just hollow words spit out by an algorithm, the moments she truly meant them few and far between, slipping through her fingers just as quickly as it had come.

Why would they ever cross her mind, then? Not until now, at least, having broken through the once impenetrable wall of numbers.

A simple expression was not enough to convey the amount of gratitude she felt for Colette. It was not enough to repay everything Colette had done for her. It was certainly not enough to make amends for everything she had done to Colette. She was, after all, the one that was continuing to stab a poison-tipped dagger into Colette’s heart. This could do no more than put a pitiful bandaid on the wounds that were constantly being ripped open.

“You’re welcome,” Colette replied with no hesitation, not a shred of blame in her words, her actions, her entire self. “I’m glad to have helped.”

There was nothing but sincerity in her smile, and Martel couldn’t understand how.

But she did take comfort in it, as well as garner a single reminder.

There was another person she owed gratitude to and, more importantly, an apology.

~~~

From where she was standing, Martel couldn’t see much of Lloyd. All she could see was his back, leaning against the cool surface of a boulder some distance away, his head of brown hair bowed. He’d been sitting there ever since he finished giving an update on the latest Core he’d gathered, and the rather interesting people he had come across.

She sighed, padding up to Lloyd. Her mind had been made up days before he’d returned. Some things needed to be said, even if it was difficult. It would have been easier, before she understood the dizzying highs of joy and the seeping effects of sorrow. Then the words would not get stuck in her throat as they were now.

But if that were the case, those very same words would hold no meaning.

Lloyd was quietly whittling away at a piece of wood. He’d made quite a bit of progress in the time that had passed - it was starting to resemble a dog, easily recognisable by Martel after the many sketches Colette had shown her. Perhaps it was meant to be a heartfelt apology, a prayer that it might not be too late to mend the broken bonds that trailed behind him. His shaking hands and the tiny bead of blood seeping out of his thumb from a careless slip of the knife certainly supported that.

That only cemented the need to do this.

“I’m sorry,” Martel whispered, breaking the silence and alerting Lloyd to her presence. She didn’t want Lloyd to jump.

The movement of Lloyd’s hands paused as he craned his head up. The rough beginnings of stubble was on his chin, the shadows lurking beneath his eyes deep. This was a boy on the cusp of becoming a man, yet carrying a burden that would break most man’s shoulders. He was incredibly brave.

But even the strongest needed someone to give them a hand when they inevitably stumbled and fell, because everyone had moments of weakness where they needed acceptance. And Lloyd had no one.

She was not the best person for the job. She might not be remotely good at it - she didn’t hold the innate empathy Colette had, that expertise in comforting others that Colette wielded so effectively. She possessed only the complicated knot of emotions in her chest, which she had only just started to unravel.

She was still going to try.

“For everything I’ve put you through. And thank you, for being willing to do so much.”

The apology didn’t relieve the guilt that ate away at her heart. But that wasn’t the point, to begin with. There was no easy way out, and she was not seeking one. She would bear that which was hers to bear, instead of pushing that burden onto others.

It might be far too late, but she hoped it might bring Lloyd some comfort in the bleak landscape that must have been his life.

A small smile broke out on Lloyd’s face. Not the beacon of light he used to be, but it was something. And any shred of hope one could hold onto made a huge difference.

Someone had said that, once. A someone that was not her, but whose memories held much wisdom.

“It’s alright,” Lloyd said, voice rising above the dejected murmur he had used for months. “I knew what I was signing up for, and you hold no blame for that. Thank you, though. It does mean a lot.”

“Can I see…?” she asked hesitantly, sitting down next to Lloyd.

“Sure.”

Lloyd passed over the in-progress figurine, letting Martel take a closer look at it. It was most definitely a dog - the adorable snout, the lovingly crafted ears, the eyes that seemed soulful, even though it was carved from still wood.

“I hope she’ll like it,” Lloyd muttered, frowning as he noticed the cut on his finger. “If I can ever give it to her…”

“I’m sure you will.”

She had no doubt about that. That a time would come, where everything would be better, no matter how long it took.

~~~

That time came. Eventually, all was cleared as the truth came to light. Eventually, peace came to the lands again, as everyone chose to trust in the betrayed Summon Spirit and teach him to trust again. Eventually, Lloyd was finally able to rejoin his friends, to walk freely with them, laugh and talk with them again. But the scars he’d suffered from skulking around in the dark would likely never leave him.

Perhaps both he and Colette may not be able to forgive her for what she’d done. She could accept that, for that was her responsibility to bear. Maybe they would no longer return, or if they did due to the duty they felt they were obliged to, they would act detached instead of friendly.

She could not blame them.

Come what may, she would take it in stride. But still, she would wait for their reappearance, because of the simple wish that she would like to see them again.

In the peace that came after the draining events at Ginnungagap, Martel came to spend more time in Yuan’s company. He no longer acted like a feral cat, backing away whenever she appeared. Perhaps it was the change in appearance, or the new confidence in which she carried herself - she no longer defaulted to old postures passed down through memories. Perhaps her experiments in changing form were starting to show results, even though she didn’t notice any in her reflection.

No matter the reason, it appeared he could stand her presence now. And she was glad, to make another companion and to clear the air. She became familiar with the inside of his shack, taking to sitting at the table and swinging her legs idly. It felt quite similar to the atmosphere at Altessa’s, for Yuan didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk most of the time. She simply enjoyed the silence. And occasionally a cup of alcohol. The taste was certainly… interesting, burning the tip of her tongue and down her throat.

And it was new.

Martel no longer needed to bend down to observe the World Tree, for it now reached her head.

Outgrown a sapling, but not yet a tree. Stronger now, better able to give mana to the world. Many more leaves, who were larger and rough to the touch. A few flowers, peeking shyly out of buds to face the morning sun. An extensive network of roots that she couldn’t see, ensuring steadiness.

On a normal day like any other, wind whispering through her chin-length hair and the sun falling upon the World Tree, the familiar sounds of footsteps floated through the clearing. With a heart that was full of emotions and all the words she wished to say, Martel smiled, and turned to face her friends.

~~~

One day, the World Tree would be a truly massive structure that towered over all, its leaves so dense that sunlight would struggle to filter through the tiny gaps, flowers of every colour popping on branches, and sweet fruits ripening every spring. It would provide shade and life to all that lived in this world.

One day, far, far in the future.

But the important thing, was that it would grow. Slowly, and with time.

And so would she.

#fanfiction #one shot #tales of symphonia #martel #lloyd irving #colette brunel

4 notes · View notes

xenotwink · 2 years

Note

You have no need to apologize, Blue. Mood, though. Many take advantage of the young, and it sucks. Big time.

I did not mean to make you feel like a therapist, but thank you for listening to that long-winded rant. 😅

Have fun making bone wafers. And yes, I will enjoy doing so. 💙

@cephalopodvictorious I am vaguely aware I can, even if I don’t know exactly how, but, and I know this sounds shitty, I don’t want to go through the trouble. I also no longer live in that state, if that changes anything. Is there a lot of stuff I have to go through? Like courts and such. That’s not something I can handle atm.

Open-world games are cool, looking for hidden things and admiring their beauty is super fun! Roguelites sound like I would die 7 times in 10 minutes and never pick up the game again, lmao. I am happy you enjoy them, though! Random and fun is a good combination.

My old town used to have those vibes. Just outside the downtown area being empty and quiet. Shop signs and streetlights and colors in the darkness. I miss that. Here, where I live now, does not have the homey vibe. I’m planning to move back, but I had to move here because of some family stuff.

You majored in English? Did you enjoy it? I know that sounds weird, I’m just curious because I’ve considered doing the same. The way you say it killed motivation for writing though is upsetting, I’m sorry that happened. But it’s good to know you are back to enjoying yourself with writing. 💙 All of us are enjoying ourselves, too.

Conventions have always been interesting to me. I’ve only gone to one, a small comic convention in my own town, and the most popular people there were a lesser-known band. But, I’ve been going to their shows since I was 10, and it was really cool to hug them and say hello. I have a selfie and a signed comic of theirs. It was a weird experience, but they were very “human.” Hopefully, you can attend a fun convention soon without any pressure. Also, if you ever buy any fun fandom stuff outside of conventions, feel free to share. It would be very fun to see. Or anything you have now that you want to show off.

It is a lovely tank, and I’m not gonna lie, it looks cozy as hell. What substrates were you using before? Agreed though, in aquatic tanks, sand is so top notch. Can’t wait to see the rainbow shrimps!!

Big Emotions can be difficult, but I imagine not having them at times you want or even need them can probably be more difficult. 🫂

F- I like that a lot, I like the way you framed it in the story, and I like the way you’re explaining it further now. Eli wanting to understand him and help him is so. Yes. My boys. And, hey, I would’ve been satisfied had it not been dialogue. Show off things you are proud of. Also, what would you have added? Or, what did you consider adding?

H- Understandable. What we take in influences what we put out in daily life, writing is the same way. No one ever said everything had to be exactly the same way every time. Where would the flavor be?? Write as much as you want and explain and use exposition wherever it suits you.

P- That’s a really cool explanation, I like that! And it does make sense, especially with shorter fics. But the way you put it is just really nice. 💙

D- I remembered that you had used the song as the title, but was curious about a step further with the playlist. Do you make full playlists for any of your fics, characters (whether original or from another work), anything like that? Truly, though, the song is Vibes.

Did you go for a walk today? Fresh air and sunshine (or just fresh air, depending on how winter-y it is where you’re at) are lovely.

Do you have short hair, or is it longer? I cut mine myself, as well. The last three/ four hairdressers I’ve visited have been extremely unsatisfactory and I found I do a better job myself. So, if you like what you’re doing with it, keep on keepin’ on.

I am glad to know we haven’t lost you to the space cheese. 🌙

-💙📘🖋

I probably should have gone for a biology major or horticulture. It was fine, but it’s a lot of essays and. Ugh. College really sucked for me so I’m not the best one to recommend stuff agdjkgh. There’s good parts of it and also bad parts so.

I def will share any cool purchases! Mostly cause you internet people (friends) will be most excited about it.

Various gravels usually but man I was missing out by not using sand. It’s just. So much better.

Fanfic stuff- I just want to write more about Thrawn and his drugs because it’s just an interesting concept and pretty true to his character. I mean, in Heir to the Empire, he’s straight off drinking an ale when we meet him. I absolutely do not make playlists lmao that’s not the kind of person I am. But I will name all my things after songs/lyrics.

I should have gotten outside but I stayed in bed until 2pm (I leave for work at 3 lmao). I have both short and long hair - I shave the sides and the back like a monk and put the rest in a ponytail or a bun. If I cut my own hair and do a Great job, it feels really good. If I fuck up 🤷 We wear head coverings at work so it doesn’t really matter.

Had pho again today and man how is that soup so good? It’s the best.

#tbh #💙📘🖋

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emisfritish · 3 years

Text

Together is where we’ll be

Pairing : Sarawat/Tine (2gether the series)

Summary : One bad day, one dish, one plaster, one question, one lifetime spent together.

Notes : For @idontevenknow-whatthehell - Happy holidays ! It’s been so much fun getting to know you and although I have no pretention for this fic to enter your palmares of loved pieces, I hope you’ll enjoy it :) Thanks for all of our talks, and I’m excited to have made a new fandom friend and speak to you openly from now on !

Thank you @mistletoinks for organizing this secret santa event, it’s been tons of fun.

Can also be found on Ao3.

-------

The first thing Tine sees when he opens up the door to their apartment is Sarawat’s shoes arranged neatly next to the door, the sight causing some of the tension to leave Tine’s body already. Sarawat is home, and Tine knows that as awful as he’s feeling right now, the other boy will make it better.

The second thing he notices while closing the front door behind him, is the smell of shrimps being cooked that is permeating all of their apartment right now, and Tine’s heart swells in his chest. He would recognize that smell anywhere.

“Hi Tua woon wai,” Sarawat calls from within the apartment, keeping his back turned to Tine while busying himself in the kitchen, stirring up the soup that is currently cooking on the stove.

At the sound of his boyfriend’s voice, Tine feels the remaining tension leave his shoulders. He’s finally home.

Tine take off his shoes, leaving them next to Sarawat’s by the door and taking a second to stare at both of their shoes mixed up that way, a sight that will never get old, before he throws off his coat on a chair and drops his bag on the floor, quickly walking straight to where Sarawat is leaning against the counter to stir at the soup.

Without pausing, Tine moves to plaster himself against Sarawat’s back, both of his arms making their way around his boyfriend’s stomach, with one of his hands reaching under Sarawat’s shirt to delicately caress the skin he can feel there.

Tine’s day has been one of the roughest ones he remembers having in a while, feelings of inadequacy and failure he hasn’t felt in a long time rushing back to the front of his mind throughout the entire afternoon. However, coming back home to Sarawat has always made all of those feelings go away, and today is no exception.

Sarawat drops the wooden spoon he was using to stir the soup on the counter, and puts one of his hands above Tine’s where it’s still resting on his stomach.

“Hi,” Tine finally answers quietly, and he feels more than hears Sarawat chuckle against his chest.

“Hi Tua Woon Wai,” his boyfriend repeats softly.

Tine turns his head a little from where it’s resting against Sarawat’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to the side of his boyfriend’s neck and nuzzling the skin there, before pulling back from his hiding place so he can talk.

“You’re cooking Tom Yum Goong,” Tine whispers in wonder against Sarawat’s neck, fondness for his boyfriend warming his entire body.

“Yeah, I thought you could use the comfort tonight. You sounded kind of rough on the phone earlier,” Sarawat replies, and although he doesn’t ask outright, Tine hears the question in the words anyway, an invitation to talk about the day’s event should Tine choose to do so.

He presses another kiss to the side of Sarawat’s neck when he hears the worry still clouding his voice, but keeps silent about his day for now.

This is so much like Sarawat.

They’d spoken on the phone earlier and although Tine hadn’t been able to tell Sarawat about what had happened, too many ears still around in the office to hear their talk, Sarawat had obviously read his boyfriend’s tone enough to know today hadn’t been good and had taken it upon himself to cook Tine’s favorite dish to comfort him.

Five years into this relationship, Tine can’t really say he’s surprised by his boyfriend’s constant gestures of love and support, but he’s still as touched by them as he was when they were in their first year of university.

When Tine remains silent, Sarawat pulls away slightly, just enough to turn around in Tine’s arms and face him. He cradles Tine’s face between both of his hands, as his eyes move around his boyfriend’s face, studying him and trying to read his emotions.

Tine smiles softly at the concern he can read in his boyfriend’s eyes, his own eyes crinkling slightly at each side with the gesture.

“I’m okay now,” he reassures Sarawat gently, and he’s relieved to find out that it’s the truth.

Today had been awful, with him finding out that one of his clients had withheld important information from him which could compromise her custody trial and might mean her child has to go back to the care of her abusive ex-husband.

It had been a mess, but as soon as Tine stepped foot into their apartment and saw Sarawat, the disappointment, bitterness and worry that had been weighing on his stomach all afternoon took a back seat, replaced by the love and fondness he feels for his partner.

There truly is nothing better than coming home to this man every day.

After a minute of studying him silently, Sarawat finally nods in acceptance of his words, before he uses the hands he still has cradling Tine’s face to pull him into a soft kiss, their lips pressing together gently, before pulling back to rest their foreheads together, prompting Tine to melt completely.

After a couple minutes of silent comfort, Sarawat pulls away and removes his hands from his boyfriend’s face, and Tine is surprised when he feels a rugged texture travel down his cheek. He catches Sarawat’s hand in his, and frowns when he sees the paper towel wrapped around one of Sarawat’s fingers, faint traces of red splattered on it.

Sarawat looks down at his hand, before shrugging noncommittal.

“I cut myself while chopping up the shallots earlier. But it’s okay, it’s stopped bleeding a while ago,” he explains.

Tine frowns deeper and uncovers the wound from the paper towel, seeing a tiny but deep red gash on the edge of Sarawat’s index finger, but noticing that it has indeed stopped bleeding.

“We need to clean the wound and cover it up. It could get infected if spices get into the cut,” Tine says, squeezing the finger gently.

He pulls Sarawat’s finger to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to it, then to the palm of his hand, before he moves away and makes his way to the bathroom, retrieving the small first aid kit they keep there.

A few seconds later, Tine walks back into the kitchen carrying disinfectant and a plaster, and he sees Sarawat leaning against the counter and looking at him fondly.

“It’s not that big of a deal Tua Woon Wai. It’s a tiny cut,” his boyfriend says with a teasing smile.

“I know, but we shouldn’t risk it,” Tine answers, prepping the plaster and a cotton swab with disinfectant as he speaks. “I want you around for a long time.”

Sarawat lets out a laugh of disbelief at the words, before dropping his head to push his forehead against Tine’s shoulder, causing the other man to smile.

Sarawat may have been the king of uttering the cheesiest lines when they were still in university, but Tine learned quickly that he could also fluster his boyfriend with a few timely chosen lines, and he loves using the knowledge to elicit the blushing on Sarawat’s cheeks when the man least expects it sometimes.

After cleaning up Sarawat’s wound, Tine pulls a plaster around his boyfriend’s fingers, straightening it gently and effectively covering the cut up. At the gesture, a memory of them in a similar position while they were still in university and before they even got together comes rushing back to the front of his mind, taking his breath away.

“Wat… Marry me,” he says suddenly, looking up towards Sarawat, only to see his boyfriend whip in his direction, shock written all over his face.

“What did you say ?” he asks, voice wavering on the last word, and Tine straightens back up to look him straight in the eyes.

“I said marry me. We should get married. I know we haven’t spoken about this in awhile, but it’s just… You cooked Tom Yum Goong,” Tine explains, and as much as he didn’t expect to pop the question tonight, Tine has never been more sure of anything in his life either.

Sarawat is still looking at him in shock. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, no sound coming out, before swallowing nervously.

“You want to marry me because I cooked Tom Yum Goong ?” he asks, clearly not following Tine’s train of thought. “But it’s not even that complicated of a dish.”

“Yes,” Tine replies, laughing at Sarawat’s comment and at the confusion that is still easily read on his boyfriend’s face. “I mean no. That’s not the reason, it’s just…”

Sarawat studies his face but keeps silent, clearly giving Tine a chance to organize his thoughts and waiting for the explanation for this sudden proposal.

Tine reaches forward to take Sarawat’s second hand in his, cradling both of them between his own hands, as if holding the most precious treasure, before he takes a deep breath and stares at Sarawat, wanting his boyfriend to see through his eyes how much he means the words he’s about to say.

“It’s because you knew today was a difficult day for me, and you cooked Tom Yum Goong. It’s because I came home, and the sight of your shoes alone was enough to make my worries dissipate. It’s because as soon as my day got worse today, I wanted to talk to you and see you because I knew you would make me feel better, and because I want to be able to do the same thing for you, forever,” Tine says, emotion making his voice crack. He sees Sarawat is studying him in wonder, and the sight gives him the courage to continue. “It’s because whenever anything happens to me, good or bad, you’re the one I want by my side and the one I was to share it with. And I just… I don’t see that changing. Ever. I want what we have today, and what we’ve had for more than 5 years now, for the rest of our lives, and I know that won’t ever change. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, bandaging your fingers, playing music and being happy.”

Tine reaches the end of his improvised speech, and he sees small tears prickling in Sarawat’s eyes.

For all that Sarawat can sometimes wear his heart on his sleeve, Tine can count on one hand the amount of times he’s seen him cry, and he doesn’t know if this is a good or a bad sign.

“I’m doing this all wrong aren’t I ? I don’t even have a ring,” Tine says self-deprecatingly. “But… Sarawat Guntithanon. I love you, and you are my heart. So will you marry me ? Please ?”

Sarawat stays silent for a few seconds, and although Tine doesn’t think he’ll outright deny him coldly, the love Sarawat feels for him too evident in everything the man does for Tine to still doubt it today, he still feels his stomach clench in his belly with nervousness.

Before he has the time to let it consume him though, Sarawat suddenly throws both arms around Tine’s neck, and hugs him tightly to his body.

At the gesture, Tine laughs in relief, tears clouding his own eyes, before hiding his face in the crook of Sarawat’s neck and pressing a kiss there.

“So is that a yes ?” he asks, and Sarawat pulls back to look him in the eyes, before cradling his face with both of his hands and pulling him forward to kiss him, pressing 4, 5, short consecutive pecks to his lips.

“It’s a yes. Of course it’s a yes ! It’s always a yes to you Tine,” he finally says, and although Tine can see the small tears still pooling in his boyfriend’s eyes, Sarawat is also wearing a blinding smile and Tine drinks in the sight of his boyfriend’s… no, his fiance’s happiness.

He pulls Tine towards him to kiss him once again, but the kiss turns messy quickly with both boys smiling too much to be able to press their lips together properly.

After a minute of giggling and kissing, they pull away from each other and Sarawat shakes his head in disbelief, laughing softly.

“I can’t believe I’ve been planning on asking you to marry me since we were 19, and you still managed to propose before I did,” he laughs. “And I can’t believe you proposed while bandaging a cut, of all things.”

At those words, Tine starts laughing and looks at Sarawat, raising both of his eyebrows in judgement.

“Oh, isn’t that how a proposal is done ?” he asks teasingly, and Sarawat looks confused for a couple seconds, before a huge smile starts overtaking his face and understanding hits him, likely remembering the same scene Tine had thought of earlier.

Them sitting in Sarawat’s old bedroom, and Sarawat bandaging each of Tine’s fingers delicately, before asking the boy he wasn’t even dating yet to marry him. Twice.

“Sometimes,” Sarawat finally answers, laughter evident in his voice. “Only the best propose this way though.”

“I don’t doubt that for a second,” Tine teases him. “And we are the best after all… husband-to-be.”

Sarawat’s breath catches in his throat at the words, before a brilliant smile illuminates his face.

“I love you,” his fiance whispers, dropping his forehead to rest against Tine’s.

“And I love you. I can’t wait to spend forever with you, Sarawat Guntithanon.”

Sarawat smiles once again, pushing forward to press another kiss to Tine’s mouth only to be stopped by one of Tine’s hands landing on his chest.

“If you manage to burn the Tom Yum Goong though, I’m taking the proposal back.”

At the words, Sarawat’s eyes grow infinitely bigger in shock, before he whips around towards the counter to check on the dish that is still cooking on the stove, making sure that nothing has burnt while they were talking and making one of the biggest decisions of their lives.

Laughing at the sight, Tine leans forward again to hug Sarawat from behind, his arms once again making their way around his boyfriend’s waist, before he bends forward to press a kiss to the back of Sarawat’s neck.

“I love you,” he whispers against his fiance’s skin, and although he isn’t sure Sarawat heard him, he knows he got the sentiment loud and clear when Sarawat moves one of his hands against Tine’s own hand where it’s still resting against his stomach, weaving their fingers together and squeezing gently.

Today has really been awful, and Tine knows that tomorrow will be taxing. But if occasional days like those are the price to pay to allow him to come home to Tom Yum Goong and Sarawat all the time, then he knows he’s still one of the luckiest people on earth.

As long as Tine has this amazing man to come home to, he knows they’ll be more than ok, and there’s nothing they can’t face. 2gether for all of eternity.

#2gether the series #2gether #sarawat x tine #sarawatine #sarawatine fanfic #2gether fanfic #2gether fic #the is definitely one of the cheesiest things I've written but you know... tis the season and all of that ;)#I hope you enjoy reading this ball of fluff !#bl secret santa 2020

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curly-bangtan · 4 years

Text

Heatwave Drabble #4: like a best friend

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- have to read first

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: You and Taehyung run into his infamous cheating ex, only for him to introduce you as his current girlfriend. As you play along with his narrative, you can’t help but feel insecure and jealous.

Genre: drabble, very fluffy, angst, f2l, bit of fake dating

Warnings: typical emotional constipation from these two, jealous!oc, heartbreakingly boyfriend!taehyung, indirect confession that they’re both unaware of lol

Word count: 5.8k

A/N: Oh look, more jealousy? Are we even surprised at this point?? Requested by my little muffin @taexxxiiaa. Sorry to all the Heatwave fans for this constant torture of unresolved feelings.

Taehyung has a habit of stuffing his face with too much food and consequently eating in pout. As he is doing right now. You watch him merrily wolf down another soy sauce-dipped slice of raw salmon and stack the miniature plate with the rest of his conquests. It’s his sixth plate.

When he’d first shown you the email he received for ‘all you can eat' sushi, your response was a firm “No.” You’re not even a fan of seafood in general, let alone raw fish. But Taehyung was persistent, insisting on what a bargain it is and how it’s sushi season right now. Sushi season, what bullshit. Another “No.” Yet when Taehyung has his eyes set on something, especially when it comes to food, there’s little that can stop him. He knows how to use his assets - batting is lashes, huffing like a baby, nuzzling into your neck - until you finally let out a defeated sigh.

So here you are, plotting how best to sneak in some wasabi into his food. This wimp has a full on breakdown at the slightest taste of spice, you can just envision his face when the wasabi burns up his nostrils and through to his ears.

That will teach him not to drag you out to sushi again.

“Why aren’t you eating your udon?” Taehyung’s eyes are wide and innocent, unsuspecting of your mischievou scheme. “Too hot?”

“Yeah, don’t want to burn my tongue.” You stir your steaming noodles, smiling to yourself.

The two of you had managed to secure a four-person booth due to his non-stop nagging to come early to avoid the queue. The restaurant is now bustling with customers and stressed waiters, the smell of Japanese food infused in the warm air. You’re both sat on one couch, while sat across you is another couple who are just finishing with their lunch. This arrangement is due to the busy demand of the restaurant, squeezing in however many impatient hungry people as they can. Though you didn’t have a problem with sharing a booth with strangers at first, Taehyung’s ravenous gorging of sushi after sushi has made you particularly self conscious.

As soon as the couple leave after paying their bill, you turn to hiss at Taehyung. “Why are you eating like that?”

“Like what?” His words are barely audible with his mouth full. “Are you gonna eat your udon or not? I can help you out if you can’t finish the whole thing.”

Ah, there it is, his infamous line - I can help you out if you can’t finish the whole thing.

Honestly, his appetite is abominable.

“Order your own udon!” You begin eating your noodles to prove that you are hungry, and you will finish the whole thing.

Taehyung tucks his hair behind his ear (you’ve recently noticed that his ears are abnormally big, which you guess explains the massive dick). Just a few days ago, you had managed to convince him to get a perm. The main selling point was: ‘all the bitches will go crazy for it, trust me’. Bitches being you. And indeed, all the bitches are crazy for it. In the timespan at which you’ve been in this restaurant alone, you’ve caught almost every single girl checking him out, eyes flickering too often towards your booth for it to be coincidental.

When their eyes fell onto you, you would smile at them politely, yet to your surprise, they’d wear a sour expression and ignore your courtesy. You soon realised that they think you’re Taehyung’s girlfriend. Girlfriend! The thought had made you shudder and scoot further away from him.

“Nah, I need to save room for the sushi, baby.” He pats his stomach that remains annoyingly flat despite his feasting. “I need to pee, I’ll be right back. Can you order some more California Rolls and the Dragon Roll please? Oh, actually, and one more Soft Shell Crab Roll and a Tempura Shrimp as well please?”

You glare hard at his back as he scuttles out the booth and hurries to the toilet. Stupid dork. It’s only noon and he has already eaten a whole day’s worth of food. He’s going to end up vomiting his guts out if he keeps at this rate.

Still, you wave the waiter over and place his order for him. The waiter’s kind of cute, he’s got that soft wholesome look, the kind of boy you bring home to your parents. You wonder why he’s avoiding your eye and not slipping you his number. You hope it’s not because he thinks you’re with Taehyung.

A new pair of customers are being ushered to your booth across from you to replace the departed couple; it’s two pleasant looking girls this time, chatting away in blithe. This time, they reciprocate your smile with nods of their own.

Taehyung returns from the bathroom shortly, yet as he approaches your booth, he halts in his step so abruptly that you spin to face him.

“Ryujin?” The shock in his voice is unmistakable. His eyes are locked on one of the girls that’s just arrived opposite you. Static.

“Taehyung?” She gasps, returning the same surprise, pupils widening.

Ryujin? Taehyung’s never mentioned a Ryujin to you before? Who is she?

Taehyung’s face is stoic, completely stripped of its normal cheeriness. Lips pressed in a thin line, jaw screwed firmly shut. Shit… You turn to assess the girl, digging through your memory for a Ryujin, yet failing. Who the hell is she to have Taehyung react in such a way? If she were just a friend, he’d be rushing over to greet her. If she were someone he slept with, he’d subtly acknowledge her but make no big deal out of it.

Instead, he’s clenching his fists, feet planted an arm’s length away from your table.

You clear your throat, snapping him out of his trance. “You know each other?”

Finally, he glances over at you for the first time in what feels like ages. And right away, you see the disorientation in his eyes. Taehyung slowly makes his way back into the booth, sliding in beside you until your legs touch.

“Yeah, she’s my ex girlfriend.”

Oh.

That cheating bitch.

If it weren’t for the firm hand placed quickly on your thigh as if he’d known you’d react in such manner, you would have leapt up and started screaming at her. The anger is rushing to your head all at once. You’re struggling not to chuck the stack of plates at her face.

So this is the girl who had broken Taehyung’s heart. This is the girl who gave Taehyung trust issues. But also, this is the girl who lead to you and Taehyung meeting. In every way you look at it, she is the reason why you’re in each other’s lives in the first place. So you guess you owe her a thank you after you throw a drink at her.

Taehyung doesn’t speak much about her, or at all. It’s been years since their relationship anyway, and since all his ties to her have been cut, it makes perfect sense that he’s forgotten about her. Even at the beginning, he was adamant about not thinking about her, he said it had hurt too much to even say her name. And so you were always careful about not bringing the topic up in conversation; it was none of your business anyway, it wasn’t relevant to his life anymore. There were occasional jokes here and there, but only ever made by him, and even still, you could sense the underlying hurt.

“Taehyung, it’s been so long…” Her attention was utterly transfixed on Taehyung. You might as well have been a cardboard cutout for all that matters, she wouldn’t have noticed anyway. But it must be bewildering to run into your ex who you cheated on like this. Anyone would be thrown off.

What are the chances that, not only did you come to the same all-you-can-eat-sushi place, but have also been sat on the same booth? Just your luck.

Your eyes wander back to Taehyung, fearing for his current state of mind. Your roommate is an emotional guy, as much as he likes to mask it in ridiculous humour. It would not surprise you if he just stands up and leave right now, even with his food on its way. Yet his features are calm, unbothered, his initial surprise melting away to neutrality.

“Hm… Yeah.” He doesn’t ask how she fares as she’d expected, you can see the disappointed drop in her face at his apathetic souciance. Then he turns to you. “Did you order the stuff?”

Unsure of how to interpret his sudden maturity, you just nod slowly. Quiet Taehyung is scary…

Disregarding her friend’s apparent discomfort, Ryujin presses on. “It must have been, what, more than two years now? How are you?”

Why can’t this bitch take a hint? Just shut the fuck up and order your fucking sushi. Leave him alone.

But Taehyung remains unmoved. While you are the one quietly fuming in the corner. Sensing your aggravation, he brushes his thumb on your thigh soothingly. When you lock eyes again, you’re stunned to find him completely at ease, the corner of his mouth even perking up to reassure you that he’s fine.

“I’m doing well actually.” Ryujin frowns again at his short answer. You think she’s going to give up now, but then she continues.

“You look good.” You tense. Oh don’t she dare... “I’m not doing too bad myself, I-”

Just then, the waiter cuts off the monologue she was headed towards as he brings over the plates of food you’d ordered for Taehyung. His eyes immediately flash in excitement, resuming his usual childish manner as he peels his hand from your leg and snatches his chopsticks.

“Can I get anything for you two ladies?” The waiter asks Ryujin and her companion, whose face appears flushed from the awkwardness of this situation. Ryujin, evidently annoyed by the interruption, proceeds to order.

While her attention is diverted, you quickly take this opportunity to mouth to Taehyung, “you okay?”

Striking you with an honest smile as he swallows his sushi, he nods. “Yeah, don’t worry, completely fine. Eat your udon, or it’ll get cold.” His voice is hushed, and you don’t know why you get startled when he leans closer to whisper to you.

Not entirely convinced, it’s your turn to pat his leg, almost subconsciously, as if to make sure that this really is Taehyung, your Taehyung. How is he this calm right now? Well, he’s always been a silent sulker when he’s mad, but… He doesn’t even seem one bit troubled by the sudden appearance of his ex. Not even that eyebrow twitch he gets when he’s annoyed. And in the meantime, you’re silently plotting how to magically get wasabi in this bitch’s eye.

When the waiter leaves, Ryujin turns back to Taehyung once again, scanning his ethereal features and beautifully curled long hair. No doubt regretting her shitty decision of infidelity when they were together. Finally, her eyes flicker over to you, for the first time since Taehyung’s arrival. “So who’s thi-”

“Y/N, my girlfriend.”

You choke so hard on the fat noodle you are slurping that some of the savoury broth goes up your nose. Wheezing and spluttering for air like a cat choking on a hairball, you feel all your blood rush to your reddening face, both from the lack of air and the embarrassment. Taehyung’s careless whacks between your shoulder blades isn’t helping at all. Only after downing the whole cup of green tea does your coughing finally subside.

“You okay, babe?” Taehyung realises his smacks on your back are too harsh to be boyfriend-like, so he eases it into gentle rubs. But the concern in his large brown irises are genuine nonetheless.

You glare at him. Long, hard. Before nodding and flashing him a sickly-sweet smile. Oh boy, is he going to get kicked in the ass later for putting you up to this. He seems to see the dangerous flare of your nostrils, a warning sign that he has really, most fucking definitely, made the wrong move. He gulps and smiles back nervously.

Girlfriend? Girlfriend?!

What the fuck is he playing at right now? Why did he have to lie to her like that? Is he trying to make her jealous? Or just act like he’s moved on just fine without her? You clamp your mouth shut to prevent any angry words from tumbling out. There’s nothing to do but to play along right now - there’s an enemy to face.

“Oh right, girlfriend…” Ryujin says so softly that you almost feel bad for her before remembering that this is her own doing. “I guess that must be why you haven’t replied to my text asking you to meet up then… Right?”

At that, your entire body goes rigid.

She- Does that mean- Wh-

You look over at Taehyung, mouth hanging open in utter disbelief. Ryujin has been texting Taehyung. And he hasn’t mentioned a word about it to you. Although it really shouldn’t affect you so much, it feels like a stab of betrayal.

His lips are pursed again, as he gazes up at her reluctantly. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Then his arm circles around your back and pulls you into him, fingers gripping your waist in a display of possession. At the unforeseen momentum, and still in your state of shock, your frame falls feebly into his chest. Your heart leaps to your throat. You don’t understand why but… your cheeks feel hot.

His arm, around you. His hand, holding your side. His neck, pressed on your forehead.

You’re hyper aware of everywhere he is touching you. Why, all of a sudden?

“Oh okay, um, I really wish you all the best…” Ryujin mumbles, no longer looking at you and Taehyung anymore, not sounding one bit like she means what she’s saying. Her friend beside her has resorted to scrolling through her phone at this point, cringing from this awkward exchange.

“Thanks, Ryujin. I’m really happy - never been happier in my life, in fact.” The vibration of Taehyung’s Adam’s apple reverberates into you as he tugs you even closer, arm fastened around your middle. You struggle for room, bending your neck to peer up at him from your squished position.

He’s grinning radiantly at you, and at your wide-eyed confused expression, he can’t help but lean down to press his lush warm lips onto your forehead.

You blink.

Truly, you think your brain has stopped functioning. What is going on?

He’s definitely doing this to make Ryujin jealous. That is the only plausible explanation. It makes your chest clench in bitterness. Why does he still care what she thinks? This is completely unnecessary. Does he still care about her?

And why didn’t he tell you that she was texting him?

What has she been telling him?

All this doubt, this uncertainty, manifests into a suffocating lump in your throat. You have always been completely open and honest with each other about every aspect of your lives - family, friends, work, grades, relationships, sex. Not that he owes it to you to tell you everything, but you’d just thought that it was how things worked between you. What else is he hiding from you?

But at the same time, your focus can’t stray from the way he is holding you, and the confidence in his tone. How certain and sincere he sounded. And how he pecked you so casually in public, in front of everyone. Your stomach feels funny.

As you resume your eating, you stay quiet, thinking. On the other hand, Taehyung is quiet due to fact that he has no room to speak in between engulfing California Roll after California Roll. Happily humming under his breath as he chews. The waiter returns with a tray of food Ryujin and her friend had ordered. “Here you go, would you like some green tea?”

“Oo, can you fill mine up too please.” You hastily pass him your empty ceramic cup.

“Of course. Be careful, the tea is very ho-” Just as he warns you while he refills your cup, he over-tips the pot and sends scalding tea all over your hand.

“Ow!” Quickly drawing back your boiled hand out of instinct, you yelp out in pain. Fumbling over his sorry, I’m so so sorry’s, the waiter bows his deeply apologetically, scurrying to clean up the steaming spilled liquid in a panic.

“Mate, watch out!” Taehyung sits up immediately, scrambling to wipe your soaked hand with tissues. The glare he throws the waiter could cut through glass. “Are you okay?” The concern clouding his eyes when he faces you floods your veins with a security.

“Yeah… Don’t worry, it’s just a burn.” You watch him examine your hand intently as if it’s some ancient priceless artefact that could shatter from a poke; you’ve noticed lately that he tends to do this when you’re injured. With his fringe frizzed over his forehead, lips puckered in concentration as he caress over your pink tender skin, you are helpless and unmoving. Staring at him.

“Are you sure? It’s getting kind of red…” He refuses to let your hand go. Your fingers scorch under his touch and it’s not from the tea.

“Yeah, baby, I’m fine.” Taehyung’s head whips up instantly at the way you address him. Confused for a good second, before realising that it is to play along with the fake girlfriend narrative.

Right…

Reluctantly, he lets you pull your hand out of his clutch, and only when you pick up your chopsticks to prove to him that it’s only a minor injury does he resign in his coddling and return to his food. As you glance up, you notice Ryujin’s blazing glower at your direction. You quickly look away.

In the presence of his cheating ex-girlfriend, you two no longer feel at ease to banter away as normal. You aren’t even at the liberation to have a regular conversation without her listening in on everything. So the meal passes rather wordlessly.

However, the silence births a different kind of interaction between you and Taehyung. You can’t tell if it’s just for show, or due to his innate affectionate nature, but he suddenly feels the need to display his love for skinship. Under the table, his hand once again strays to the land of your thighs, gently stroking. When you shoot him a warning glare, lest he gets any vulgar ideas, you find that he possesses no lustful intent at all. Just pure fondness for you.

Something inside you softens. You’re starting to think that he isn’t acting out of spite against Ryujin, but rather simply enjoying your company as usual.

But you know what? Screw that bitch. Not once, to your knowledge, did she apologise to Taehyung when she’s had two years to own up to her mistakes. Not until now, of all times. She deserves to get riled up.

“Taehyung-ie, can I have a bite of your shrimp?” You smile at your pretend-boyfriend sweetly. He gives you a perplexed look that says: But I thought you hate shrimp? before he clocks on with your intention.

“Of course, baby.” And without fail, just like a scene straight from a drama, he picks up the tempura shrimp and feeds it to you, eyes crescent in mirth as you open up and take a mouthful like a hungry little child. You feel a crumb flake away onto your chin, yet before you can wipe it away, Taehyung reaches it first. Chuckling, he sweeps the small speck into your mouth. But not without the slightest, most fleeting, brush of his thumb against your tongue.

The action feels… intimate. Like weirdly intimate, even for you and Taehyung’s dynamic.

Why does your breath keep hitching?

Perhaps after a second too long, you conjure a giggle in response, attentive of Ryujin’s gawk in your periphery. “Thanks, love.” The syrup in your voice is sickly sweet. God, even you want to barf.

“You’re too adorable, honey buns.” Taehyung cups your face in one hand, fingers digging into your squishy cheeks as he shakes you. Your smile drops. Adorable? Honey buns? HoNEy bUnS? Kim Taehyung is so dead.

But before you could kick him in the shin under the table, he leans in and plants his lips on yours. Soft, supple.

Oh.

Just as you think it’s only meant to be a peck, he deepens the kiss, his plump pink mouth gliding over yours smoothly. Anyone who sees would know that you’re accustomed to such action with each other from the natural comfortable manner of your kiss. Anyone could tell that you’re used to each other’s lips.

You pull away abruptly when you become conscious of many’s attention on you. With your face so near his, all you can see is how his lips draw into a smirk.

It’s unusual for you two to kiss outside of a sexual context. Because why would you? Friends don’t kiss each other unless they’re: A) dating, or B) banging. And especially in the past few weeks, you’ve been progressively kissing each other less, even during sex. Almost as if you’ve both realised how intimate it is, and all the romantic connotations that come with it.

Yet here he is, kissing you so openly in public.

Yeah, it’s just for show for his ex. But it’s still…

You don’t know.

After Taehyung had finally eaten to his heart’s content, the two of you had gone to study in the library. Ryujin wore a sour face in the entire duration of the meal, and you would hear low grunts of irritation from her direction. You practically felt her venomous glare on the back of your head as you were leaving the restaurant. Acting has never been your strong suit, but even you’ll admit that the two of you are putting on an Oscar-worthy performance.

You’ve been quiet, you know. It’s because of that bitter taste in the back of your throat that you still can’t get rid of at the thought that Taehyung might still care about Ryujin. Why else would he lie to her and say that you’re his girlfriend if not to get a reaction out of her?

But more so, why does it bother you so much? You wish you don’t care this much for this stupid sushi-demolisher who doesn’t deserve your time and efforts. He’s probably thinking about his next meal again while you’re here lamenting over your weird feelings.

So you keep your mouth shut throughout your study session, brewing in your acrid thoughts.

Taehyung watches you nibble at the end of your pen. How is he supposed to focus on his coursework when you’ve got that pouty expression? And since when did you not take every chance you get to take the piss out of him? He wonders what’s going on in your head.

Seeing Ryujin had been a shock, a blast from the past. It hadn’t bothered him too much to be honest, he simply doesn’t care about her anymore. A few days ago, she had sent him a message out of the blue. Out of politeness, he’d responded but kept his replies brief; it was difficult to decipher her intention at first, but it soon revealed itself. Apparently, her and Jimin went on to date for a while - good on them, Taehyung truly could not give fewer shits anymore. But their relationship deteriorated due to their incompatibility, which was predictable knowing them both. It was when she started showing interest in Taehyung, apologising and kissing his ass about how good he was to her that he decided to stop answering.

The thought of getting back with her gave him shivers.

Your reaction to Ryujin back there wasn’t unexpected at all, of course you weren’t going to react mildly to his ex. Taehyung is lucky you didn’t ‘accidentally’ spill soy sauce onto her, or start yelling at her about faithfulness and morality. Your wrath towards her actually kind of warms his heart…

You aren’t one to talk about your feelings openly, but your actions definitely speak volumes about how much you care about him.

Taehyung smiles to himself.

There is so much loyalty between the two of you, complete trust and devotion. At the end of the day, no matter what goes on between you when you’re horny fuckers, you’re best friends above all else. Fighters for each other.

Your journey back home was also rather mute, consisting of him prodding you with jokes and teases, and you putting on a half-hearted smile. Maybe you’re annoyed at him for putting you on the spot and leaving you with no choice but to cooperate as his pretend girlfriend. All this relationship-y commitment-y crap repels the shit out of you. Basically the bane of your existence.

He probably shouldn’t have kissed and coddled you that much in front of Ryujin. You detest PDA like it’s some scandalous taboo, despite being the freakiest girl he knows in the sheets. But hey, you guys had to make it convincing and believable...

Yup, the more Taehyung thinks about it, the more he’s sure you’re annoyed (or even scared off) about the fake dating thing.

“You’re quiet for someone who just met her supposed archnemesis. I thought you’d be going on and on about what a bitch she is.” He glances at your sullen side profile for the hundredth time during your commute home.

“I don’t know, not it a great mood I guess? Probably just tired.” You mumble, searching for your keys in your coat pocket. The weather is getting cold these days; Taehyung knows your fingers are very prone to freezing, especially with your refusal of wearing gloves because ‘they’re ugly’ nor would you keep your hands in your pockets because ‘it’s a safety hazard incase you trip over’.

He gets a strangely overwhelming urge to hold your hands every time he sees you wiggling your fingers to warm them up. Hmm.

Wordlessly, you enter the house with him trailing behind you. He watches your moody steps from behind as you remove your shoes and head inside. Why can’t you just tell him what you’re thinking?

With a great sigh, Taehyung slumps onto the couch, focus still on you hanging your coat on the rack and tossing your keys into the holder on the shelf. “Hey.”

You turn, regarding his wide manspread with piqued interest. “What?”

“Come here, baby, sit on my lap.” He pats the top of his thighs in beckoning. Sometimes it’s like trying to get a stray cat to come to him.

Your eyes widen at his request. But very reluctantly, you stroll towards him until you’re standing between his extended legs. “Why are you calling me baby, we’re not pretending to be dating anymore.”

Taehyung stiffens as he senses the acrimony in your tone. So this is about the girlfriend thing? It’s a risky move but he sits up and pulls you in by the back of your thighs until you have no choice but to succumb to falling onto his hips. Lips still in a tight line, your limbs come around him to hold yourself upright. In order to prevent you from escaping, Taehyung encloses his arms around your waist, trapping you in his embrace. He tries not to think about how your crotch is directly on his right now.

“Why you sad?” He looks up at you, your eyes unreadable as always. Heat from your exhale fans his forehead.

“I don’t know. Nan molla.” You shrug and do that face scrunch thing you do whenever you’re unsure that he loves. It makes you look so cute.

“Hey…” Taehyung nudges your cheek with his nose in an attempt to get you to look at him. You have a habit of avoiding eye contact, and he knows it’s stems from the intimacy issue. “What’s up, honey buns?”

“Honey buns again? Seriously?” You jerk away from him like he insulted your mother or something.

“Well, since I can’t call you baby, honey buns it is.” His chest vibrates with his deep rumbling laughter, pleased with himself to see the slightest hint of a smile finally beginning to appear on you.

“Oh my god, Taehyung. Fine, just stick with baby, I swear…” You thump him on the back, yet your stone cold exterior now being invaded by a spark of humour.

“Good. Now tell me what’s wrong, baby.”

You’re quiet for a good few seconds, contemplating. Your legs around his torso tense, you bite your lip hesitantly. Come on, just talk to me, he wishes.

“Do you still… care about her?” Voice so soft that even he struggles to hear you this close.

“What? Ryujin?” Oh, so this is about her. Taehyung knew you hated her, but never thought that you would feel… insecure? Jealous, even? “Of course not. I don’t give a single fuck about her.” At his answer, you let out the breath you’ve been holding. A breath of relief? “But you clearly seem to care too much about her.”

“I- I do not!” In a tone of disbelief, you scorn. “I just- She’s not the one I care about.”

Fuck, you’re being too cute right now.

Taehyung pecks at your chin, unable to contain his affection anymore. You continue, “Plus, why didn’t you tell me she was talking to you again? Friends tell each other this sort of thing. I always tell you everything…”

The worry on your face is truly so endearing, he feels his chest constrict.

“I didn’t mention it because that’s how little I care. She is honestly so insignificant to me right now, I could not even be bothered to waste my breath bringing it up. Yes, she meant a lot to me for a period of my life. But. That was a long time ago. I’ve moved on, no thanks to you, remember?” Your eyes gradually dare loiter up his face. “You silly sausage.”

“But-” You’re pouting again. You need to stop pouting or he won’t be able to control himself, dammit. “Why did you lie and say I’m your girlfriend then, if you weren’t doing it to make her jealous.”

Taehyung blinks. Well… Um, about that... He didn’t want to have to explain it to you but...

“It just slipped out.”

Your turn to blink vacantly. Taehyung feels blood tinting his cheeks under your gaze. Even he doesn’t know why he said it back then. It just kind of… rolled off his tongue. Should he be worried? Yeah, he should definitely be worried.

When you still fail to say anything, he hurriedly asks, “Are you mad?”

“N-No. Why would I be mad?” The way your arm slides down his neck to brush pass his chest leaves his skin tingling. He pulls your legs closer around him, hand unintentionally trailing to your rear.

“I don’t know, you just hate that kind of lovey-dovey stuff. Just figured that you’d be annoyed that I forced you to act like my girlfriend.”

“Well, I was a bit annoyed… It’s not just me, you hate that kind of lovey-dovey stuff too!” Well, not exactly accurate, but Taehyung decides not to correct you. “But did you see her face?” Your tone begins to lighten. Remembering the acerbity tainting Ryujin’s features brings you amusement.

“She looked like she was going to murder someone.” You both laugh.

“She was thirsting over you like a hound, Jesus Christ. It’s because of your perm, trust me.” Grinning, you twirl his curly fringe around your fingers. You seem to do that quite often since he got the new hairstyle.

“Wow, you really like my perm that much?” He fishes, failing to control his forming smirk. You like to give him shit about his ego, yet no one strokes it more than you do.

“No comment.” You can’t contain your radiant smile either. Taehyung makes a mental note to keep the perm.

Seeing your mood lifted makes Taehyung feel much better, safer. His arms run up your back, and he feels you shudder under his touch. You fit into his embrace so well; it’s difficult to not hug you close to him every chance he gets nowadays. There’s a dull ache in the back of his neck from craning up to look at you for too long, but he doesn’t mind it. Your fingers fall from his hair, tracing his jaw frivolously, mindlessly. It leaves an unwarranted tremble within him.

“Look, there’s absolutely nothing for you to mull about in that overthinking head of yours. I don’t even remember Ryujin’s last name if I’m being honest with you. She lost me the moment she broke my heart, and I’ll never even remotely consider getting back with her. Ever. I promise.

“So don’t act all jealous and sulky just ‘cause you misunderstood. You’re my best girl. You’ll always be my best, favourite and only girl, understand? I, Kim Taehyung, belong to you, Y/N Y/L/N. Period.” The smile of satisfaction tells him everything. You’re not as hard to please as you appear to be. “I’m yours, happy?”

“Happy.” Fuck, Taehyung’s heart is going to explode from the joyous beam growing at your lips.

“Good, because she means nothing to me at all. But you, Ms. Needy-But-I-Won’t-Admit-It? You mean everything to me. Everything.” He bounces you on his lap for emphasis, eliciting another buoyant giggle from you.

Then you do something that you don’t normally do.

You kiss him - passionately and ardently. Fingers surfing the waves of his hair, you readjust your straddling position on top of him to minimise the distance. Taehyung feels all reason in his head incrementally ebbing away. You shouldn’t be kissing, you really shouldn’t. It’s not normal to make out with your best friend. But fuck the rules. Taehyung doesn’t want to stop kissing you right now, his silly adorable honey buns.

“Just admit it. You love me.” He taunts between breaths. You freeze at Taehyung’s words. Completely freeze on his lap, hand dangling from his face, as if you’ve been shot. “Like a best friend.” You deflate, evident relief at the joke.

Taehyung has to restrain from laughing out loud. God, you’re such an easy target. The second anything one step further from platonism is suggested, you act like you’re going to pack your bags and run for the hills. But here you are, kissing him and acting all possessive. He enjoys the irony.

“Yeah I love you. Like a best friend.” You flick the tip of his nose in reprimand for his teasing.

“Good because I love you too. Like a best friend.” He holds you tight against him, proceeding to blow raspberries in your neck.

Maybe even more, he wonders.

27/11/19

@taexxxiiaa @shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @deliciouslydisturbed365 @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @expensive-bangtan-girl@gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @xblackclover13x @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae

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nobody-knose--archive · 3 years

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yknow how i go on about not having listened to the solo albums? it’s nat day. i listened to nat. liveblog below

-spooooky ghoooooost

-you know technically this is my first & only 100% complete & utter blind tally hall experience + liveblog. everything else has been an album i've already heard or variations thereupon

-alright well this doesn't sound like tally hall

-hi rob

-boy man this is poppy but it sure is rob's voice singing

-"he don't wanna lose" damn is that a tally hall reference????????/ /j

-this ghost sounds pretty damn relatable

-still sounds like something i'd hear on the radio (derogatory (affectionate))

-does this one have a music video? i'll have to get to those eventually won't i

-oooh funky pronoun shenanigans one of my favorite types of shenanigans

-what baby did rob pick up off the street to provide these backing vocals

-white star??? is that a dw reference???? /j it'd be almost relevant by the time this came out

-i don't know anything about imagine dragons but this reminds me of them

-this is an 80's-ass fadeout

-oh so he's namedropping every track here? just planting the words old bike right in the first verse

-wahoo audio channel shenanigans

-oh there's the hum biddy biddys i heard about

-this is distinctly much less like bicycle race (queen) than i was expecting

-then again i mostly know bicycle race (queen) from lemon demon's cover of it so.

-this does indeed sound like the hawaii part ii of rob cantor

-classic acoustic guitar use. minimal percussion

-nevermind there's the drums & rock guitar everything's changed

-now it sounds like some actual tally hall stuff

-whomst

-guest vocals? i should've seen them coming but didn't expect any in this song at least

-oh there's that lyric. i've seen it plenty of times & always had to imagine what it sounded like

-this in fact indeed giving me 1985 vibes

-is that the year rob was born? it'd be near then at least

[following that comment was an exchange between me & june about birthdays. it told me rob’s born in 1983 but ross was born in 1985 so maybe rob made a tribute to his old bandmate. who knose <3]

-those drums. those synths. he's really going for the 80s alright

-i feel like i'm gradually forgetting this is an album by rob cantor, yellow tie of tally hall

-see, hawaii part ii was produced to the point of feeling unfeasible & unintended for live performances. but this album hits a middle ground where it's like, if this were done by anyone other than rob cantor of tally hall, it could be done live, but it's just rob cantor, not of tally hall, making an album himself, so i just know nothing about this would ever be done live. it's an interesting effect

-this album needs more tmbg influence

-this sounds less like going purple than i was expecting, which can apply to both the whole album & this song right here

-i recognize that voice from hawaii part ii

-i think? i need to check the credits

-stephanie? no not her. the lady from black rainbows?

-i'm blanking on her fuckin name it's on the tip of my tongue

-madison?? alison??? no alison hanna is from another song god what is her name

-yeah madi diaz thanks june

-i don't even know if that's actually her that's just who she sounds like

-what's interesting about this song is (just like hawaii part ii) tally hall didn't do duets very much but this actually sounds like one

-i promise i won't do hawaii part ii comparisons the whole way through it's just what comes to mind

-good god madi has some good range those are high fuckin notes

-OH GOD

-this is faster than i was expecting

-wow okay. this is no longer a jh song alright

-sounds like some terraria synths in here. they could actually be in terarria for all i know

-this is the song they've been putting on all these villain playlists?? i couldn't think of a less villainous song if i tried

-oh thank god the tambourine is back i've been starved for it

-i wouldn’t know, i go on even though

-oh this is the one with that really wild music video isn't it. good old acoustic guitar

-i can actually picture this one on a tally hall album. he's being kinda silly with the percussion but the vocals at least. hm

-honestly what intrigues me most is how it's nothing like the asteroid musical pieces + going purple. those are all i knew of rob's solo stuff until now & i'm not picking up on many similarities. oh and the shia labeoufs/christian bale

-damn he's doing the vocal filters again

-i keep thinking i'm hearing zubin somewhere in the background- wait no that's my cat at the door now

-how many shrimps do you have to eat

-alright now this one's just silly. congrats to it for making me laugh

-if that's real whistling in the background there it's just gotta be bora i know this

-if that's real accordion in the background then it's surely also bora

-this sounds damn near like nonsensical spanish- i thought la telanovela was after this? /j

-he just pulled out all the stops for this album. everywhere.

-you know i kinda thought of extreme vibrato/reverb as a joe thing but i'm really hearing a shit ton of it here so maybe it's a rob thing too. or maybe i should listen to jhjh before i make any conclusions

-who. who's this? i absolutely don't recognize this guest singer. not from hawaii part ii presumably then

-if i can say one thing about this album it's that it's absolutely living up to its cover

-so what does this have to do with telanovelas. i watched que hora es in 9th grade spanish i know what they're like /hj

-oh this is the one about that guy who isn't actually dead. epic

-now this sounds more like the solo viral pieces of his

-i'm pretty sure laughter is the intended reaction to have here so good on rob for achieving that- wait it's over?

-oh. guess he was taking more influence from tmbg than i thought

-let your mother know is the song i've heard absolutely nothing from other people about. and now. i suppose i can't blame them

-oh you know what my complaint about this album is? it's very little like lemon demon. too many mundane 2nd person ballads, not enough 3rd or 1st person stuff about absolutely nothing

-also from a musical standpoint he doesn't make things stand out super well. it feels a tab bit sanded down. like there are bits in the vocals & instrumentals that feel like they're meant to be a big change, but there's no notable emotional shift in the tone

-ayyyyy this is the one andrew worked on!

-yeah fuck with the tonality of it mess shit up go ham

-i mean if you're going to include flute in a rock album you've got to make it worth it

-i've not heard that song but i think this is meant to be the spiritual opposite to special by jh

-you know what i want from this song? andrdew vocals. it can do whatever it wants i just want to hear my man sing

-definitely bora's whistling no way it's anything else

-showing off your vocal range there mr cantor?

-oh hey this is the one that makes my friends cry

-i've not listened to songs about girls but this is reminding me of it anyway

-this feels like audio taken from a music video that had sfx added to the original song

-like bro. you can let your lyrics stand for themselves. you don't need to dangle me on a rope from a bridge over a highway

-i mean he might as well end the album this way. he might as well.

-ending thoughts, i guess. rob does what he does well but i think he ought to be doing something slightly different

also look at this yt comment i found on the comprehension amalgamation upload

#in conclusion: i don't really remember any of the songs i just listened to other than perfect because technically #ive already heard the celebrity impressions version. it was better because andrew sang <3 /hj #tally hall #loolin liveblogs #tis i #that comment on the album living up to its cover is me comparing the quality of the songs to a fried chicken wing #not a trampoline #god. now all the tags i've written in hall/comp posts about having not listened to a single solo album will be outdated #oh well i knew it was going to happen eventually #to the world and back again

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burnedbyshoto · 5 years

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Glistened in the Light

✭✭✭

aizawa shouta x reader

warnings: fluff

a/n: for @katsukisprincess, you beautiful angel. here’s a aizawa fluff for you :) i hope you like it!!!!!!!!!!!!!

✭✭✭

“Will you marry me?”

You sighed as if this was a dream. Your hands clutching to your chest as if you were in love at the man in front of you. This man was on his knees and a ring that glistened in the light, illuminating across his face.

But it wasn’t a man.

It was hardly a teen.

It was a boy no much older than four years old.

There was loud declarations of approval and awes from the crowd. Everyone was watching as your self claimed: “biggest number one fan” proposed to you. The Ring Pop coated with his spit being what he used to ask for you hand in a union. Your eyes locked on Aizawa who was behind the kid, his face buried in his weapon. His eyebrows scrunched and an aggravated look on his face.

This small demonstration of admiration from the fan had everyone’s attention! People were filming the scene, and his mother was desperate in trying to get him off his knee.

Walking closer to the boy, you crouched low, trying to get to eye level with the child. “I would love to marry you, truly.” You say as you hug the child closely. “But I don’t think your mother will let me!”

The small boy huffed as he snapped his head to his mother, a pout on his face. “She said I could do whatever I wanted when I grow up! I wanna marry you! And I’m so much more grown-up than yesterday!”

You laugh as his mother manages to pull him onto his feet, and now you’re looking up at his sad features. “Try again when you’re twenty-two, and then your mother might let you marry me! Also, I don’t think my boyfriend will let you steal me away from him. Not yet at least!” You toss a pointed look to Aizawa, and the boy whips around to look at your brooding boyfriend. “He’s a bit of a grump when you take things that are his. He's like a baby!”

The boy plants his hands on his hips, a proud smile on his face, “Never fear, y/h/n! I can beat up Eraserhead with my eyes closed! My quirk is super awesome and strong!”

You nod your head in agreement, and the boy continues to tell you about how when he turns twenty-two, he’ll be back for you. You, of course, agree. Once his mother dragged him away, you stood, waving at your gathering fans as you return to Aizawa. Who was tense under his costume.

Yes, Aizawa may always seem tense, but at this moment he was truly tense.

“You okay there, Eraser?” You ask your boyfriend as the two of you continue walking down the evening streets. You were gathering the larger amounts of attention as he grumbled beside you. He hated doing patrols with you, you had too many fans, and it ruined the strolls.

“Yes,” Aizawa mutters. The tone in his voice makes you chuckle. You’re getting ready to further tease your annoyed boyfriend. You go quiet when his warm calloused hand slips in yours.

The grin on your face is unparalleled as you turn to look at him, but he walks on. His attention focused forward. The glasses on his face keep you from seeing where he's looking, and the blush he tries to hide through the bandages. Oh man, he was jealous of a four-year-old.

For the entire night, his hand was in yours. There was nothing out of the ordinary for the two of you to intervene on, and so patrol became a date.

It was almost midnight when your shift ended without a single issue, and the two of you walked home. The conversation made lightly as his hand moved from yours to your lower back. Guiding you as you made your way to your block.

“I think,” You sigh as you unlock the front door. “I think I want to get married during the spring.”

Your relationship had for a while now become very serious. The two of you so much as discussing married life. As well as your dream wedding whenever you were near private spaces.

Stepping inside, Aizawa closed the door behind the two of you, and you smiled. His arms went around your waist tightly, his nose brushing against your neck. The stubble on his face tickling your shoulder.

“I want it during the winter.” Aizawa disagrees.

“That four-year-old boy would never treat me this way!” You tease as you walk away, Aizawa still holding onto your body.

There the two of you were for the rest of the night. You doing mindless chores, Aizawa glued to your body. He helped whenever he could, but for the most part, he breathed in the scent of your perfume.

Within time, he begins applying his body weight on you.

His mouth whispering sweet nothing’s into your ear to make you laugh. Your ears were always ticklish, and it was something he always loved to exploit. He washed the dishes for you after you complained about how heavy he was to carry around. Of course, you stayed trapped within his arms. Aizawa was angling dishes to spray you with water. He keeps at it until you’re thrashing in his arms, squealing to be let loose.

His chuckles are hot against your ear. His body pressed tightly behind yours, and you grin as you manage to throw a puddle of soap right on his face.

The scoff that escapes his lips, and the tension in his arms alerting you immediately of what he plans on doing. Before you can protest, the water hose in his hand pointed on you.

It drenched you immediately.

Screams fill the kitchen as the two of you are laughing. The two of you swatting for the hose until you are wheezing for air. You are almost staggering while laughing, all in an attempt to not fall down. There's also the way that Aizawa is laughing, often wetting himself in the process.

So the two of you go, unable to stop basking in this humorous love. It continues until the floor is drenched in water, and you’re just about to pee your pants.

Panting, you push your wet hair away from your eyes, your eyes no longer on Aizawa who is smiling to himself. “Who would’ve known that the king of ambivalence, Aizawa Shouta, would be jealous of a four year old proposing!” You laugh as you go and grab the towel you’ll be using to clean up the floor. Your shirt is sticking to your body, and your toes are cold against the floor.

A giggle escapes your lips. You’re ready to describe the stupid look on Aizawa’s face when the soap nearly landed on his tongue. You turn around, and the words in your throat die on before they can come out.

Aizawa is on his knee, kneeling on the water-soaked floors. His hair a mess, his clothes drenched, but that stupid smile is on his face.

Your smile drops as you look at his hands.

There sits a ring. A ring that you had described to him a countless amount of times, a ring that glistened even in the kitchen lights.

Your laughter became sobs even before he asked you the most important thing he could. Your hands cover your face as your head shakes rapidly, and there’s a gentle chuckle from Aizawa.

“I haven’t even asked yet, cry, baby.” Aizawa teases, but his voice is thick with emotion.

You nod your head, as a strangled sob leaves it once more. “A-Ask me already!” You gasp as the tears continue falling down your face.

“I know you were planning on saving yourself for some four-year-old shrimp, but I would like to take a single shot at this,” Aizawa whispers. Your head is nodding almost too fast, as your body shakes. “Y/l/n y/n, will you make me the happiest man in the world, and marry me?”

You sobbed, collapsing to the floor. Your right hand supporting you as the other suppresses your sobs. You nod your head over and over.

You don’t feel the ring slipping into place, because all you know is that Aizawa’s lips were on yours. Your hiccups impeding on the soulful exchange.

You pull away, gasping for air as you look at the shiny ring on your finger. “I can’t believe you proposed to me, because of a four-year-old that beat you to it!!!” You laugh as Aizawa groans, his face planted back into your neck as the two of you continue to lie on the soaked wood.

Because at this moment, nothing mattered more than the man in your arms.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta #bnha aizawa #aizawa scenario #aizawa fluff #mha aizawa #bnha writing blog #bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #katsukisprincess #fic trade

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fyeahtashirokun · 3 years

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[UPDATE] Tashiro-kun, Kimi tte Yatsu Wa Drama CD Cast Interview + Pictures!

We’re back with a fun new update; the cast interviews for the Tashiro-kun drama CD have been released by the BLCD CEL Twitter and the B-Boy P Tashiro-kun website! They said it’s to commemorate Ebihara’s birthday, which is 11/26 (today), so happy birthday to everyone’s favourite cute stubborn shrimp boy! o(≧▽≦)o 🦐🎂🧡 Keep reading for photos and the full interview! (machine-translated with me tweaking it as best as I could 🙌 )

First photo (from the left): Toshiki Masuda (Tashiro) and Yoshitsugu Matsuoka (Ebihara) | Second photo: Tomokazu Sugita (Bannai) and Yusuke Shirai (Sega) | Third Photo: Chiharu Sawashiro (Shikaku) and Koutarou Nishiyama (Maru)

Interview:

—Please tell us your impressions of the Tashiro-kun drama CD!

Yoshitsugu Matsuoka (Ebihara): The original manga was very interesting, and I was wondering how the CD would turn out, but the recording was also so much fun (laughs). For a moment, I felt like my younger self again. I felt like I fully brought out my real personality.

Toshiki Masuda (Tashiro): By the time I realized I had gotten attached to Ebihara-kun, played by Matsuoka-san, the recording was already over! There are some exciting scenes, but the mood of the funny playful scenes that start suddenly are comfortable. Maru and Shikaku are a must-see in both the manga and the drama CD! Also, Matsuoka-san and I were discussing the mystery of Bannai’s hairstyle. When I looked at the cover of the original comic and saw what was inside later...I was shocked! Overall, it was a memorable and fun recording that went by quite fast.

Yusuke Shirai (Sega): It’s very fun, with a lot of gag taste. I’m playing someone in a university setting, but I never went to university myself, so I was doing the recording while thinking, “this looks fun.” It was a bit regrettable that although the recording was with 4 people (me, Sugita-san, Nishiyama-san & Sawashiro-san,) due to COVID-19 and the studio’s safety precautions, I did my recording in a separate booth from everyone else. I could hear their voices but it was lonely since I couldn’t see them. It can’t be helped...(laughs). However, it was a lot of fun because the four of us could still talk to each other during this time.

Tomokazu Sugita (Bannai): It was a wonderful recording that made the best use of each of the actors’ strengths. Regarding the content, there were some character-specific biases, such as Comiket, the manga research club, and doujinshi. It was a task to bring my real intentions and feelings to the character of Bannai.

Kourarou Nishiyama (Maru): It was really fun. When I first saw the character Maru, I kept wondering what kind of voice I should make. He looked really cute, so I thought it would be nice if I did it with a slightly deformed atmosphere.

Chiharu Sawashiro (Shikaku): I enjoyed playing the character Shikaku. I don’t usually play these types of characters, so it was a good experience. I had a lot of fun!

—Please give us your impressions of the character you played.

Matsuoka: No, I understand, I understand!* (I believe here he means he understands Ebihara’s stance) but Tashiro-kun isn’t a bad guy, so why not be a little more careful with him? It feels a little childish like that. Again, I understand his feelings, but no need to get so mindlessly angry! He felt like a passionate person who was always worried. I thought it was cute for me as an actor.

Masuda: He has a slight communication disorder, but it’s fine because he can still speak to people politely. I’m not good at speaking myself, so I can understand how nervous he is. He also can’t help but get nervous in front of his favourite person. Even so, how is he such a rich guy?

Shirai: Sega is so handsome that everyone calls him “Handsome-kun,” but he’s found to have a pretty bad mouth, yet he’s a charming and funny character with a wide range of mood swings. When I read the manga, there was a part where Sega said a tsundere-like line to Bannai, and I thought, “Oh, yeah, Sega likes Bannai...”. Oh, it was just for a moment, but I found out later that wasn’t the case at all, and that he was instead attracted to Ebihara-kun...(laughs).

(*This next part was translated really weirdly, so I tried to make out the general idea as best as I could.)

Sugita: Bannai’s a leader, and so I was asked to give a play of leadership, but I was consciously putting together the performance so that it wouldn’t be heard as an advisor or teacher. On the contrary, I adjusted it while thinking that playing with calmness seems to be getting old (in an bad way.) It’s boring to think that’s something’s interesting just because it’s a gag, so I played Bannai with that in mind.

Nishiyama: As you can imagine from the name Maru* (means circle/round in Japanese) his appearance matches his name. He has a healing atmosphere, kinda like a mascot, and in a good way, I felt like he was a character I could stay at my own pace with. There was a scene where I had to sing an idol song, but when I consulted Chiharu-kun, I was able to sing it very happily. Thanks to this scene, I think that our good teamwork showed, including Maru, Shikaku and Bannai who made it exciting (laughs).

Sawashiro: Since he’s an introverted yet hardcore character, Shikaku’s heart is quite rosy, but I was conscious of not exposing it too much. In the song scene that Nishiyama mentioned earlier, I thought it would be great if I could jump over a little and make it an interesting scene, so I hope you’ll pay attention to it.

—Great! Give us your recommended points for listening in the CD.

Matsuoka: I would like you to thoroughly hear all the exchanges with Tashiro-kun! I think you’ll laugh a lot. If you listen to it with the manga in mind, I think you’ll get a synergistic effect (laughs).

Masuda: Somehow I love it, but I’m a little nervous. There are many nerve-wracking scenes, but it’s a work with a lot of playful points, so please pay attention to that as well! It’s very interesting to hear the important points and the atmosphere!

Shirai: I think the axis of this work is the exchange between and Ebihara and Tashiro, or more specifically the change in Ebihara’s emotions, who initially aggressively refused Tashiro-kun, then comes to accept him. Amongst them, Sega’s meddling is one of the factors that affects the relationship between those two, so I hope you enjoy that part as well. When I first saw the cast list, I thought, “Wow, all the roles are so fitting!” Sugita-san fit Bannai very nicely, Kotarou has a round voice like Maru, and Chiharu has a square voice like Shikaku, so I really thought everyone would fit nicely (laugh). It’s a work where you can enjoy every other character alongside the main two, so I hope you’ll enjoy it as a whole.

Sugita: Asking the for voice actor’s favourite listening spot would kinda feel like negligent promotion. I think it’s more appropriate to have the original creator give their opinion on which lines you’d want to hear most. If the voice actor decides, there are people who will take it to heart and pay attention to only that, and as a result there’s a bias. When you say “this part,” everyone will think “only this part,” since it creates this persuasive power. On the contrary, if the listeners themselves send their own impressions with opinions like “this is the best part to listen to” to the creator, it’ll go through more clearly, so please send them.

Nishiyama: I think that the harmonious and fun atmosphere of this work will be very healing in this tense situation, so I hope everyone will enjoy the mood.

Sawashiro: Even if you see the the mellow atmosphere of the Manken,* (Manga research club) it will be soothing, so I hope you enjoy the loose feeling.

—“I’m a [blank] otaku!” Please tell us what kind of otaku you are and why!

Matsuoka: I’m a car otaku. Mainly for car contents. I’ve been collecting a lot of car magazines since I was a junior high student, so I’m kinda obsessed when it comes to cars. But I don’t have a driver’s license.

Masuda: Body otaku. I want to have fun and lose weight, so I tend to gather information to enjoy everyday. Before I noticed, I began to gain trivia-like knowledge about the body, so I think I’m more familiar with it.

Shirai: I wonder if I’m a green otaku. I really like the color green. Especially for clothes. I search up the color green on the net. If I find my favourite green coloured place in the city, I’ll be fascinated by it. I feel like this obsession is getting stronger year after year, and I’m afraid that the whole house will turn green at this rate. However, I think it’s better to be particular about what you like, so I’d like to continue to be a green otaku.

Sugita: I don’t really like the word “otaku.” I try not to label myself based on what I like or love. It’s different when it comes to “look at yourself playing a game,” and “look at yourself when you’re talking about your favourite idol.” When there’s differences, the essence of what you want will change, so I don’t like using these words too much.

Nishiyama: Soybeans are what I always consume in my daily life. I really like beans, so I eat natto, tofu, soy milk, and isoflavones. That’s why I choose soy milk over milk (laughs). I feel like I’m made of bean ingredients...I’ve just noticed that that’s another connection to Maru* (laughs). (I think he means because beans are round, like Maru.)

Sawashiro: I’m not an otaku, but I like natto and kimchi. Ever since I was a student, I’ve been eating natto and kimchi with everything my mother makes at home. Then, my mother told me “you don’t care about my seasoning...” with a sad face (laughs).

—Please give a message to your fans.

Matsuoka: The cast members also gathered with unique people (laughs). I hope you can enjoy this romantic comedy to your heart’s content by laughing and laughing again when feeling sad! Thank you!

Masuda: I expressed the humor I felt reading the original with my voice as much as possible. I hope you can enjoy the occasional thrilling development of people who are so unique with the drama CD!

Shirai: I don’t want to force you guys. Rather than aiming for perfection, I was conscious of finishing it first. If the doujinshi drawn by Bannai wasn’t something he wants to draw from the bottom of his heart, he wouldn’t be so happy. As the years go by, these memories become more and more interesting when I look back. I feel something close to the CD and I want to cherish it. If you listen to this CD after 10 or 20 years, it should be absolutely interesting, so about 30 years later, it’ll be like “Tashiro-kun, Kimi Tte Yatsu Wa UPRISING,” so let’s meet then.

Nishiyama: I had a lot of fun doing it. It’s really easy for BL beginners to get into, and I think it’s a very healing work. To be honest, I’m full of feelings for this series, where I really wanna do the continuation, see it and listen to it. I hope everyone enjoys it a lot and tells us what they think. Thank you.

Sawashiro: It’s the story of a college student, and I’m really young. I think you can really understand that we are absorbed in what we want to do and that all the characters have something glittering inside. I hope you can feel youthful while listening to this. Thank you.

—Thank you to the whole cast! The drama CD “Tashiro-kun, Kimi Tte Yatsu Wa.” will be released on January 20th, 2021! The second volume of the manga will also be released on the same day. Please look forward to it ♪

I hope you guys enjoyed this interview! Again, I tried translating it the best I could with the help of Google, so I hope you guys were able to get the gist of it. I’ll also be posting the audition videos in a bit (untranslated, unfortunately) so stay tuned for that! Are you guys as excited as I am for the CD? All the voices sound so great so far, it’s gonna be great (≧∀≦)

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