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its-a-hil · 2 years

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i said id answer the ask game in full so here we go in all my oversharing glory:

1 - who is/are your comfort character(s)? oh there are a few lmao - rinwell (tales of arise), eleanor hume (tales of berseria), velvet crowe (also tales of berseria), oginome ringo (penguindrum), kagemori michiru (bna) yes i am a fucking weeb how have you not figured that out yet

2 - lighter or matches? im bad with matches but they feel so much more real so them

3 - do you leave the window open at night? i only did that for about a month ever in my life since my freshman year dorm didnt have a/c, besides that no i love feeling warm and stuffy

4 - which cryptyd being do you believe in? i mean none of them really, but not out of some principled skepticism i dont have an emotional connection to any cryptids so i dont really care about them actually that's not true i believe in the insulindian phasmid, despite it being fictional as well as a fictional cryptid

5 - what color are your eyes? standard brown tbh ive been complimented on them multiple times by multiple different ppl, many of whom i had never met but idk they dont really seem that special to me

6 - why did you do that? i wanted to answer all of these (said as much in my reblog), but i didnt have the motivation to until i desperately needed something to distract me from my piercings itching they feel pretty much fine now but well i started so i cant stop

7 - hair-ties or scrunchies? both! hair ties are great for when i part my hair into two different things i forget the name or for when i (rarely) braid scrunchies are great for just holding my hair together when i need to sleep or get my hair out of my face or go out lazymoding

8 - how many water bottles are in your room right now? just my one reusable stainless steel bottle, which i really need to refill and drink from brb okay thanks for the reminder i wont go to bed dehydrated today

9 - which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee? lol. lmao. i have intentionally consumed a meaningful amount of caffeine on about 3 occasions in my life, and none of them were from coffee also it smells like shit

10 - would you slaughter the rich? <redacted> <redacted> <redacted> <redacted> <redacted> of course they would be given all opportunity to become not-rich and thus escape <redacted> <redacted> <redacted>

11 - favorite extracurricular activity? this is a weird question to comprehend! i'll just interpret it as 'what was your favorite club-type thing you did in school?' and to that i would have to make it a tie between rock climbing and puzzlehunt-style puzzles

12 - what kind of day is it? a good one! granted i didnt get nearly enough sleep last night but besides that we vibing

13 - when was the last time you ate? like 3 hours ago

14 - do you love the smell of earth after it rains? i love the smell of earth rainy or not, the smell of cities, and generally the smell of outside! except of course for the smells of cut grass and vehicle exhausts, each of which put me into a blinding rage for a couple seconds

15 - are you a parent? (all answers qualify) not even a little bit but if i can reach a point of stability in my life i would be happy to adopt if im not actively prevented from doing so or in the massive pipe dream scenario where i can get a functional womb implant, i would totally go through a pregnancy

16 - can you drive? yes and i need to in order to get to my job >.<

17 - are you farsighted or nearsighted? well this is a false dichotomy i did wear glasses at one point but that was mostly bc my left eye is weird and didnt actually have anything to being far- or near-sighted

18 - what hair products do you use? i mean. shampoo and conditioner im not very picky tbh

19 - imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails? if you asked me to absolutely i mean i wouldnt touch you without your consent ofc but i would almost never turn down a low-stakes opportunity to help anyone im in proximity to

20 - do you say soda or pop? soda im a marylander (i also drink like. one can of sierra mist a year) however every time i think about soda i remember how fanta exists bc coke couldnt resist nazi money and that feels much weirder than a minor linguistics quirk

21 - something you’ve kept since childhood? i dont really have an answer to that (assuming im counting childhood as like. pre-age-13) i mean sure theres a lot of stuff thats just been in this house with me since i was 4, but i never did that consciously all of my most treasured possessions now (hello kitty velvet plush, pentagonal trapezohedron that my teacher made and friends signed when i was sick just before graduating high school, a few books, blåhaj, etc) have only been mine since i was at youngest 17

22 - what type of person are you? im not answering this it's too vague

23 - how do you feel about chilly weather? HATE okay that's a little harsh it's pretty fine once my body's used to it, but the first real chill of autumn fucks my body up

24 - if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing? idk probably just talking about random stuff maybe playing cards or something since im much better at life when i have something not-directly-social to concentrate on oh definitely looking at the sky and pointing out the clouds/birds/stars/moon to each other that one's mandatory

25 - perfume/body spray or lotion? i put a moisturizer on my body after i shower so my eczema doesnt flare up and make my life hell but that's about it i dont really care how i smell beyond just using deodorant

26 - a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times? oh god. media: various trans shouma and shouma x ringo and trans shouma x ringo scenes other ships but that's really the important one by an order of magnitude not media: when i was younger i used to imagine my crush being my gf and kissing me or w/e then after a certain point it was getting rejected / being alone with the hopes that it would convince me that i could be okay like that since i had reason to believe that my crush followed the imagining and not the other way around i dont do either very much anymore now it's just media or being a teacher trying to convince transphobic adults not to hate crime me or their children i may or may not have issues

27 - about how many hours of sleep did you get? depends very much on the day, i need about 9 hours on average but i am extremely flexible in where those hours are allocated over a 4-5 day period

28 - do you wear a mask? i absolutely wear a kn95 almost all of the time that im indoors, and some of the time outdoors (like if im cold) speaking of i need to get a good warm cloth mask so i can go biking in the winter without freezing my lungs

29 - how do you like your shower water? warm but not quite scalding

30 - is there dishes in your room? there are some wrappers but no my room is on the 2nd floor why would i bring dishes up here that sounds like a big hassle

31 - what type of music keeps you grounded? flare by clark powell there are a few other songs, some are homestuck and some aren't, but it really depends on how im feeling in the moment flare doesnt

32 - do you have a favorite towel? no i just wanna get dry

33 - the last adventure you’ve been on? ??? i have not been on adventures my life is quite boring, which is why it's good that im equally boring so i can enjoy it

34 - is there a song you know every word to by heart? bad apple!! i think (jp obviously have i mentioned being a weeb) a few other jp songs and some crane wives songs i also have a solid grasp on the lyrics to, but i couldnt recite them the same way i could for bad apple, at least a couple years ago

35 - what’s your timezone? est (eastern summer time) (what do you mean thats not what est means and that its not est right now)

36 - how many times have you changed your url? i dont think i have, but my tumblr acct is fairly new so thats pretty expected ive been considering moving away from the 'shill' branding, but ill probably do that when/if i change my name for real

37 - someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years? if youve gotten this far youve probably already read my answer to the actual ask for this suffice it to say i have a friend from elementary school ive stayed in contact with up to and including now and i love him

38 - a soap bar that smells good? soap bars dry my skin out so i dont use them

39 - do you use lip balm? when i remember to (almost never)

40 - did you have any snacks today? girl i would not be myself if i wasnt grabbing a cookie every time i remember that they exist

41 - how do you take your coffee? this is bullying

42 - an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site? twitter (T_T) discord i just got on the cracking the cryptic app bc sudokus are fun i also have a crossword app i also have bandori on my phone but i havent opened it in a month and im scared to bc of the downloads

43 - what’s your take on spicy foods? spicy foods are generally good bc the ppl who make them know how to make food im neutral on spice though like i have a decent spice tolerance but it doesnt really taste better or worse when a food is spicy hot similar feelings to garlic, like garlicky foods taste good but so do non-garlic versions of those same foods

44 - you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it? im not answering that cop

45 - can you remember what happened yesterday? yeah i went to work, got some b day congratulations, and ate dalbati + cake with my parents it was good

46 - favorite holiday film? i watched knives out during that period of time in 2019 so im counting it and i dont care that its not a holiday film at all i dont care about christian holidays beyond decorating the tree bc my family's done it since i was a baby

47 - what was the last message you sent? "okay here's a promise for yxll: im gonna stream tomorrow (tomorrow being wednesday, im not allowed to claim that it being past midnight means shit)" my twitch is twitch.tv/its_a_shill if you care i stream tales games

48 - when did you first try an alcohol beverage? summer solstice party 2021 (i was 3 months out from being 21 so like. not exactly transgressive) it was just a bottle of apple cider and since then i really havent drank anything more than that

49 - can you skip rocks? not to the point that i could get 4-5 skips in a row, and it has been a while, but i know the general mechanics and ive gotten a couple good skips

50 - can i tag you in random stuff? id prefer if you dm'd me but sure

#why *am* i like this #unasked game

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the-firebird69 · 2 years

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You heard our son too you can't exactly jump right into a ladies and you too give to guys and they may gobble up these other genre these guys of yours and it's motivational if it happens

He's talking about life cycle of different class and the smaller light cycle goes about 280 which is faster than the superbikes and it'll be a different circuit and it'd be different race tracks and then you get another which was small bikes the 50cc for smaller people and that's what it's called it'll be a smaller people race and you can be big if you want but there are a lot of jockeys who are out of work they don't race horses that much and they're interested and we're going to start putting it forward and do the work and we're looking for teams to take up the project and they're accepting

Thor Freya

It's a huge amount of work he's doing and he got this thing that record his voice and it's going real fast so we need to work better and we need people to help he's trying to do it himself and it just doesn't work that great makes people frustrated in himself more. There's a lot going on today will Branson the crew heading out now and the ships are coming down and they'll be here at nightfall like they planned and it is intense there's a lot of ships it's a huge movement a giant bunch of chips and they need to access the comet Empire ship and a lot of people knew but a lot of people forgot and it's going on it's going to be a huge War in space and it's building up now and at sea the NASCAR series movies are beginning the light cycle races are beginning today they where the preliminary work is done and pre-qualification to get into qualifying races begins tomorrow and we hope to have the races begin this Saturday for qualifying races and the whole circuit is run by people who are pre-qualified in 700 plus tracks to get into the 20 25 light cycle tracks as a finale for the actual circuit is an intense race there's going to be billions and billions of racers and trying to pre-qualify it is a massive amount of qualified racers and it's an intense moment for some because they have an opportunity and we helped afford it because you need to have pre-qualifications some races are only a few races are already qualified because they're super bike racers other than that and it's only like 200 people and they have to race in the circuit no matter what and that's about 25 races minimum and the last race is about 2,500 MI. It's intense memorabilia is selling the bikes are selling the daily light cycle are selling in hard knock kicker 5150 got a real kick in the pants tons of them are selling and the women want in and the the smaller people want in and gifted people want their own race it's starting to be a huge huge deal it's going to go into the dirt tracks pretty soon and this one type of dirt track that they really excel at and it's the Baja and there's an Open class actually most of it's an Open class and our son says it in our daughter Zeus Hera they're mostly open class and he hasn't seen a Baja that's not except for a few dirt bike races and he says it'll make this it'll make this go he's also thinking of entering the Batman version and some people might do that and Batman is and you get sponsors and it's painted different it looks really nice it's going to be intense that's so fast

There's a Baja race tomorrow ironically in the low desert and it's open class so we're going to go sign up practically anybody sign up it's forever though the race was like 500 miles but still my making a couple hours it's just like when there was this huge leap to 18 miles an hour in the Boston Marathon when the Africans came

Thor Freya

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cthomesrusa · 9 months

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Beat the Competition – Sell Home Online

It is difficult to Selling an Estate Home in today’s economy! There are plenty of homes on the market nowadays that you require a way to differentiate your residence from the others. I cannot remember a time when the market was so skewed toward buyers. Here are some tips that will assist you get an edge up on the competition.

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If you want to sell your house through Real Estate Selling Process, you must make it shine out from the others on the market. The first step is to ensure that the interior of your home is constantly pristine. One important thing that will easily turn off a buyer is walking into a shambles of a house. They spent more time focused on what they see and imagine themselves residing in your home.

Make certain that the exterior of your home is well-maintained and attractive. Buyers frequently make up their minds before even walking through the front door because of how the house appears from the exterior. Check that all the window screens have been replaced and that there is no visible paint chipping off.

When it comes to showing your home, be confident. In today’s market, buyers are seeking for a person who is in a hurry to Prepare Home for Sale. If they know you are desperate to get rid of your house, they will make you a bunch of low-ball offers.

The information contains some excellent tips about Real Estate Duplex for Sale. If you are considering selling your property in today’s economy, the advice provided will put you ahead of the competition.

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svnflowervol666 · 3 years

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Pinky Promise (dad!Harry)

Word Count: 2.1k

Summary: Harry introduces a certain special someone to the newest addition of his family.

Author’s Note: Surprise! Here’s some boy dad!Harry on this fine week night. I feel like Harry is almost always written as as girl dad (guilty as charged tho), so I wanted to show the boys some love. I didn’t really call this one an ‘x reader,’ because this one’s mostly about Harry and his bub, but the missus is still there, don’t worry! I hope you enjoy and as always, feedback of any kind, likes and especially reblogs are super helpful to keep me motivated to post more. Take care and TPWK.

The Styles household was always filled with noise. Whether it was contagious laughter echoing off of the walls in the kitchen, the pitter patter of pudgy feet bursting through the back door from the garden, or the low humming of the secondhand record player coming from the living room. The sounds were comforting, reassuring to those that lived there. While the ruckus caused by something like which Joni Mitchell song Harry should play on the guitar before bedtime or what color everyone’s nails should be painted each week might seem chaotic to some, it represented a kind of tranquility that at one point did not seem possible to grasp.

But today, in the modest, ivy-covered cottage with a pastel-yellow door, it was quiet. The sun poured in from the two open windows of the living area, filling the room with a still brightness that only London could emote. Dust particles danced in the light, drifting along through their own invisible current. The beginnings of the city could be seen in the distance, visible in a foggy haze with promises of sweet treats and adventue-packed days. But no sound, as the newest member of the Styles family had commanded the attention and affection of everyone within its walls.

“She’s so little,” the youngest spoke up. Although he was now technically the oldest. He outstretched his hand out to caress the petite foot that stuck out from beneath the periwinkle-colored muslin blanket.

“I know,” Harry replied, watching the swaddled newborn’s toes curl in reaction to being tickled by her brother, “I remember when you were this tiny, too.”

“I was?” he asked, scratching at his chocolate brown curls that never laid flat.

Harry nodded in affirmation, recalling the early morning when his son had been born prematurely. He’d spent nearly ten days resting in an uncomfortable vinyl recliner beside his girlfriend’s, who was now his wife, hospital bed counting down the minutes until the nurse would give them the “ok” to go visit their bub in the NICU. Harry stared in awe at his newborn through the glass of the incubator, using the open portal on the side to reach in and stroke his cheek with the faintest of touches. He was covered in wires and tubes, surrounded by monitors and beeping machines, all tasked with keeping his underdeveloped organs afloat. It was the most pitiful thing he had ever seen, and Harry still has those nights where he’s plagued with memories from the hospital. While the day he became a father was most certainly the best day of his life, it was one of the most traumatic experiences he’s ever been through.

“Mhmm. You were actually even smaller when you were born,” Harry prodded, playfully wiggling his eyebrows at him.

“No I wasn’t! the toddler jabbed back, crinkling his nose up at his parents, his aquamarine colored eyes turning into tiny slits on either side.

“Umm, yes you were,” Harry’s wife replied with a chuckle from where she sat beside the rest of her family on the couch, “We bought the tiniest size clothes we could find and they still didn’t fit your teeny little bum.”

The boy sat confused, trying to comprehend how a person could be smaller than his sister, let alone be so tiny that clothes didn’t even fit them.

“Well, I’m big now. Right?”

“Much bigger,” Harry reassured him, “But now that you’re bigger, you have t’ take care of your sister. You have to teach her how to be kind and share your toys with her. Think yeh can do tha’?”

“Yes! C-can she swim with me in the pool?” he stumbled over his words, overjoyed by the idea of someone always being around to play his sacred water games with him in his nana’s pool.

“Not yet, bubba,” Harry laughed, tickled by his son’s enthusiasm, “We have t’ wait until she’s a little bit older. But I’m sure she’d love to swim with you at Nana’s when she knows how.”

“Okayyy,” the boy replied, slightly defeated.

“Do you want t’ hold her?” Harry asked, gesturing to the sleeping bundle in his lap, her puffy eyelids closed peacefully as tiny, sporadic grunts left her little belly.

“Yeah, but I don’t know how,” he professed, his plush, pink toddler lips turning down into a frown.

“’S alright, I’ll show you,” Harry then carefully shuffled from his position on the couch, turning so that he was facing his son.

“So, first, you have to make sure you hold her head because she can’t keep it up on her own,” Harry started, reaching over to place the baby girl into his son’s arms.

Unlike the last time, Harry’s hands didn’t shake. He wasn’t afraid like he was before, when his arms trembled as he took his newborn son into his arms for the first time, petrified that he was going to accidentally smother him or drop him and that the worst thing he could imagine would come true. No. This time, his hands were sturdy, protective over his new daughter as he was preparing to introduce her to his firstborn for the very first time.

Harry’s wife looked on lovingly as his son took the baby from him excitingly, his left hand cupping her head gently. Her tired eyes were filled with love when he wrapped his arm protectively around her little tufts of peach fuzz in the best way that a five-year-old with mediocre hand-eye coordination could.

“You also have t’ hold her bum so she doesn’t squirm out of your arms.”

Harry took his son’s hand into his, guiding him to place his tiny forearm along the baby’s back with his palm resting on her diaper-clad bottom. When he was confident of his son’s grip on the infant, he pulled back. He made sure to hover over him with his brawny, tanned arms just ghosting over his son’s. Just in case.

The boy was elated. His sister was warm and soft, and she looked like one of the stuffed animals that he slept with every night. He couldn’t believe that the person he talked to in his mother’s belly every night for nine months and gave kisses to each morning before nursery school was here and real and now she gets to live with him forever.

“She’s so cute,” he spoke in gentle whisper this time, remembering what his mum had told him about being quiet around the baby so that she doesn’t wake up cranky.

He was absolutely smitten over her. Everything about her was the cutest thing he had ever seen in his brief time on Earth: her button nose that sat perfectly above her lips, her miniature fingers wound tightly her fist as if she was ready to fight, her little tongue that barely poked through her mouth each time she yawned. He could stare at her forever if he could.

Instinctively, he pulled her into his bony chest for a hug, squeezing a little too harder than he should have. The baby girl tensed in his grasp at the motion, the beginnings of a shrill whine escaping her pruney lips.

“Whoa, bub. You have t’ be careful,” Harry intervened, loosening his son’s arms so that the baby rested peacefully in the boy’s lap again.

“She’s fragile. You can’t squeeze her like that,” the boy’s mum reminded him.

“Sorry, Baby,” said the boy as he reached down to press his tiny lips to her eyebrow.

Her forehead wrinkled up at the contact, similar to one of auntie Gemma’s baby puppies, thought the boy to himself. He also thought that she kind of looked like one of the puppies too, but he kept that to himself.

Harry and his wife watched their children interacted, how his son was brushing his thumb along her skull, how her face relaxed at the steady motion. They were already in sync with each other, already comforting each other just by their presence. They were both besotted with their daughter, but Harry thinks he might be just a bit more in love with her than his wife. Harry had gotten used to raising his son, while he taught him to be a kindhearted and gentle creature, there had always been a degree of roughness to which he interracted with him. His daughter, however, was made of glass, Harry had convinced himself. He vowed to do whatever it took to make sure she never shed a single tear because of him or anything else he had control over.

Now, Harry had two babies. One boy and one girl, just like his family before this one. The similarities slightly terrified him. His son was soft and gentle and loving, just like Harry had been as a child. He was sensitive, always yearning to be held and touched in the way that Harry had when he was his age. His daughter, even though she was only a few days old, was already a stubborn little fighter like his sister. She cried her lungs out within her first few hours of being born, kicking and screaming until it looked like her face was turning blue. She hated the harsh lights that the doctors shone in her eyes and their cold hands that poked and prodded at her belly like she was a science experiment. It wasn’t until she was in the arms of her family that her wailing subsided.

It was thoughts like these that felt surreal to Harry. He never saw himself as someone that could be in the position he is now. He’d always thought he’d be an eternal bachelor, someone who only ever stayed with someone for a certain period of time before everything inevitably blew up in his face and he’d be back at square one. He never thought that he’d be the type of person with a wife and a white picket fence and a slew of babies; he never thought that he could be the type of person who could be this happy.

“Bubby, can I ask you to promise me something?” Harry asked as he scooped the boy into his lap, making sure the baby was secure so that the three of them laid in one pile on the couch.

He pulled his wife closer as well, making sure they were shoulder to shoulder and he felt surrounded on all sides by the ones he loved the most.

“What?” his son asked, peering up at his papa with huge eyes that resembled saucers, his long, dark eyelashes brushing his brow bones.

“I want you to promise me,” Harry began, wrapping his arms tighter around his two babies, resting his chin in the crook of his son’s neck, “tha’ whatever happens t’ the two of you, no matter how many times you get into fights. No matter how mad you might make each other. That you’ll love her. No matter what. That you’ll always be her big brother.”

Harry hadn’t realized, but his voice trailed off near the end. His voice was just above a whisper, so quiet that only his son could hear. He pressed his lips to side of his bub’s forehead, an attempt to soothe both his son and himself.

“Can yeh do that f’ me?”

The boy in Harry’s lap pondered his father’s words. His finger went absentmindedly to stroke his sister’s hand, astonished when her fingers unfurled from the tight fist they’d been bound in all day. He slipped his pinky into her palm just as her muscles relaxed so that she was now clutching tightly to his digit.

He had no idea of the weight that Harry’s words carried. He had no idea of the thoughts of uncertainty that haunted Harry about never getting to this point in his life. He doesn’t understand the cruelty that exists outside the walls of his home besides the pesky little boy in his class that borrows his crayons and doesn’t give them back. He doesn’t know that other children don’t grow up in homes with parents that love each other like his do.

He didn’t know any of these things, but he sensed that it meant a great deal to Harry, and he wanted to make sure that his father knew he could count on him for anything because he loved him with all of his heart and Harry proved that to him every single day.

“Pinky promise, papa,” the boy responds, loosening his hand that was wrapped around his sister to offer it to Harry.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #dad!harry #dad!harry x reader #dad!harry styles x reader #dad!harry styles

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teshamerkel · 3 years

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Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

Chapter 11 (25 Pages)

<< First | < Previous | Next >

Nia begins her aura training with Val and considers her rocky relationship with Tobias.

“You are too tense.”

Nia sighs and relaxes from her position on the floor of the training area, carefully untangling her legs. Who knew having dog limbs would make sitting cross-legged so difficult?

Val looks down at her with her usual unreadably blank expression, arms crossed. Nia’s just glad for her seemingly endless patience. “You are worked up. Emotionally upset. You cannot channel into your aura abilities in such a state.”

Nia nods, avoiding the medicham’s gaze and glancing over to the cause of her emotional duress. Tobias is sparring with Azami, the flowery Pokémon helping him to work on battle tactics other than “run yelling into danger.” The charmander seems frustrated, but Azami just takes a defensive stance and goads him into trying again.

“Partner problems?” Val asks, not bothering to lower her voice.

Nia winces. “Y-Yeah.”

Val nods, watching Tobias attack. “He can be difficult to work with.”

That’s an understatement. Nia thought that she’d be able to handle the charmander’s forced distance and temper, his sharp personality and cruel remarks. But they’ve only been partners for a couple of days and have only taken on a handful of low-level missions, and Nia can already feel herself wearing thin.

Clearing out an old den for a bear Pokemon and her cubs to use for the approaching winter? Nia gets snapped at for “not digging right” and taking too long to clear out the old leaves and moss. She’s still getting used to having paws for hands!

Escorting an elderly, drooling flower Pokemon across the forest? Nia gets blamed for their small reward because she “kept wrinkling her nose” at the smell. Her new nose is sensitive! She tried her best to be polite!

Bringing medicine from Fen’s office to a sickly family of plant-like turtles living in the woods? Nia gets rushed along, falls into a hole, and then has to listen to Tobias complain the whole way that she’s “slowing them down.” Slowing them down from what? They’re meeting turtles, for God’s sake! They aren’t going to outrun them!

She’s doing her best, but Tobias is just so...ugh! Impatient and angry, all the time! He doesn’t listen, and he doesn’t seem to care about her or anyone else. They’re partners! They don’t have to be best friends, but they should at least be friendly with each other, right? Every time she tries to start up a civil conversation with the charmander, tries to learn more about him as a person, he immediately shuts her down.

Even worse, Nia desperately wants to follow the lead that Hadley gave her and go to Afon’s Cap to find Hazel, the former human. But every time she’s brought it up in the past few days, he’s dismissed it without even giving her a chance. She even tries to pick missions that (according to a map in one of her geography books, at least) would lead them close to the port town, only for him to override her opinion completely and pick something else.

Nia’s a patient Pokemon (a bit too patient, according to Andyn) but she’s already getting sick of it. Is it too much to ask for her partner to treat her with a little decency and respect? She’s seen Tobias with the little kids of the guild, with Luca and Leor and Laine and the others. He’s like a completely different person with them! Patient and kind and fun, joking and gentle.

But with everyone else, he’s so...sharp. So far they’ve only been completing basic missions in the area around the Haven, but she thinks he would have her back if it came to a physical fight with another Pokemon. But that doesn’t do much to ease her hurt feelings and increasing frustration with the charmander’s temper tantrums. Now it’s even interfering with her training!

“Focus on meditation,” Val suggests. “Relax.”

Nia slumps. “Okay.”

The medicham walks over to Tobias and Azami to watch and add her own expertise. Nia focuses on crossing her legs, resting her hands on her knees, and relaxing her body. She’d already run through a few basic fighting drills with Val today, and since the medicham taught her the basics of meditation during their last session, Nia’s mission for the rest of the afternoon is to start her aura training. She tries to go back and run through her meditation notes one by one. Relax. Part by part, muscle by muscle. Deep breaths. Clear her mind. No stress. No negative emotions. No thoughts at all. Calm.

It takes a while, Nia concentrating on her breathing to block out the commotion of the room around her, but eventually, she thinks she’s getting it. Distantly, she notes the relaxed, loose state of her muscles. Her mind feels comfortably blank.

A few minutes later, Val’s quiet voice pipes up from beside her. “Good.”

Nia peeks her eye open to see the medicham sitting in a similar meditative pose. When did she get there?

“You are relaxed?”

Nia hums an affirmative.

“Close your eyes. Continue breathing. Listen to my voice.”

Nia does as told, trying to let her mind stay blank as she listens.

“Your body is a vessel for your energy. Breathe in. Feel the air flow into you. Feel it energize you. Breathe out, and let your body relax. Good. This flow of energy is constant. It allows you to move and live. Imagine that energy gathered at the center of your body. The core of your being. It may appear as…a light. It is what fuels you, pushes you, makes you who you are.”

Nia’s mind starts trying to butt in, tripped up by Val’s words. A light? Does she mean literally, or—

“Do not think,” Val reminds. “Let yourself be. Relax.”

Nia sucks another deep breath in through her nose, and then releases it, imagining her racing thoughts going along with it. Blank her mind. Calm.

“Good. Look to your light. Feel it in your heartbeat. It is your fire, your soul. Picture it.”

This all seems so…strange. The riolu is supposed to be learning aura training, but so far she’s only been learning breathing exercises and weird visual techniques. Still, Nia trusts Val’s knowledge, even if that means doing weird yoga. So she tries to listen to the medicham and let the words paint the picture of a small flame in her chest. A light.

“What color is it?”

Nia’s brow furrows. She can’t really see the light, of course, so maybe she gets to decide? Her favorite color is yellow, but for some reason that doesn’t...feel right. When she pictures this light, pictures who she is as a flame in her chest, small but steady, it’s...blue. A bright, turquoise sort of blue.

“Blue?” Nia says, hesitant.

“Good,” Val says. Nia knows she must be imagining the note of surprise in the Pokémon’s voice. She’s tempted to open her eyes and peek for an expression, but doesn’t want to lose her focus. “Can you feel it?”

Nia frowns, unsure. She thinks she can imagine what Val is talking about in a theoretical sense, but it’s nothing tangible that she actually thinks is there. She can’t literally see the flame in her chest.

“Do not overthink. Feel. Focus on it like a physical part of your body. An organ. It is your soul. Your aura. What pushes you in life. What is important to you. Who you are, what you feel.”

Nia almost opens her mouth to protest—she thought the point of meditation was to empty and calm her mind, not work it up—but thinks better of it and simply tries to follow Val’s advice.

Her fire. Her motivation. Who she is.

She is...a human. Right? But she’s in the Pokémon world. No, no, she’s definitely human, and she desperately wants to return to her old life, to her family and friends and all those she loves so much that her chest aches at the thought of losing them for good.

But for right now, she is...a Seeker? An adventurer. Sort of, at least. She has to admit that some small part of her already loves seeing this world, helping others, experiencing so many amazing things. She’s a curious sort, and there’s new things to learn every second in the Pokemon world.

Her motivation, though? Well, she supposes it’s to become a Seeker, technically, but only so she can reach her ultimate goal. She just wants to find answers, and to go home. To become human again.

What else is there? Oh! How she feels. Well at the moment she’s…frustrated. Frustrated and upset with Tobias, for not giving her a real chance and for being such a bitter person. Disappointed, after she’d been so sure he would be nicer as a teammate. But she’s also…hopeful. Hopeful and curious about the human-turned-Pokémon in Afon’s Cap, excited to meet her and maybe find someone who truly understands her predicament. Who can remind her of home.

Home. The people Nia knows she left behind coming here…they give her so many emotions. She still can’t quite place any real details about them, but she knows the heartbreak she feels is real, the longing and the warm affection in her chest ballooning so large it feels as if it’ll break her ribs.

She needs to get home. So right now, she’s determined to figure out this aura thing. She’s Nia, and she will figure this out. She feels the determination swell in her chest, imagines the blue light in her growing stronger and brighter. Can almost feel it.

“Open your eyes.”

Nia frowns but follows the direction, eyes blinking open. A faint glow catches her eye immediately, and she looks down to see her chest glowing with the faintest blue light, lining the edges of her fur in an almost ethereal way. Nia yelps, flailing out of her pose. When she looks back at her chest, heart pounding, the light surrounding her is gone. That was—her light isn’t real, she just imagined it, so how—?

Val hums a quiet sound, and Nia looks to her with wide eyes.

“That was your aura.”

“I-It’s real!” Nia says, flabbergasted. “I mean, I read about it so I knew that aura had to be real somehow, b-but it looked like how I imagined my light to be, a-and…did I make it real? How did I do that?”

Val shrugs. “It is innate to Pokémon with psychic or aura abilities. I simply guided you to it.”

Nia blinks and looks down at herself, raising a tentative paw to touch her chest. “H-How...how do I do that again?”

Val falls back into teacher mode. “You have been convinced of your power’s existence. You should be able to access it more easily now. Focus on the aura within you, on the core of your being. Imagine it moving out to other parts of your body. Try to concentrate it into your paw.”

Nia nods, sitting again. She closes her eyes, holding out a paw and trying to imagine that light back in her chest. Burning. Not painfully, but just...warm. Powerful. Bright and blue. When the light she imagines at her core seems strong and steady, she squints open her eyes, disheartened to see her hand looking as it usually does. No light. A glance down at her heart confirms the same.

“Aura stems from emotion,” Val offers. “Focus on what makes you feel strongly.”

Nia closes her eyes and nods, brow furrowing. Right. She’d been thinking of her home in the human world before. She focuses on that light, her light, thinks of her family that she can’t remember and the aching in her chest. Finally, the fire grows, flaring as if she’d thrown lighter fluid onto it. She feels herself smile. The riolu thinks of Tobias next, of how frustrated he makes her feel, how he hurts her feelings when he snaps, and she feels the light grow larger. She thinks of Maggie and Xander and Andyn, of how she wants to get to know them more, of how much she appreciates their kindness, and—

“Look down.”

The riolu does, and bites back a gasp. Her chest is glowing with a faint blue light.

“Gather it in your paw, like drops of water into a pool. Manifest it.”

Nia tries, tensing the muscles of her arm and focusing her energy, the light, into the palm of her hand as if she were pouring it down her wrist and into her palm. Slowly, the light seems to grow brighter, stronger. Then, the tiniest flicker of light, beautiful and fragile like a candle flame, shivers into existence in her hand.

She just stares at it, mesmerized, until Val says, “Return it.”

Nia swallows and focuses, trying to absorb the light back into herself. It’s a little difficult, as if the energy had become more solid outside of her body, but eventually it does dissipate. As the light fades, Nia’s surprised to note her breathing is heavy.

“Training with energy is as exhausting as training your body,” Val explains.

Nia nods, looking up at her. “S-So that was okay?”

Val nods, although she isn’t smiling. Nia is starting to learn that doesn’t mean the medicham is unhappy. “You are doing fine. You are a stranger to this body. Do not fret.”

Nia straightens up at the encouragement, beaming. Val moves to sit down right in front of the riolu, legs crossed. Nia copies her relaxed posture and waits, ready to learn more.

“Emotion is connected to aura in another way. Not just as a power source, but through detection.”

Nia blinks, surprised. She remembers reading something about this, but didn’t think it meant it literally! “L-Like...an empath? Reading other people’s emotions?”

Val nods. She must see Nia’s discomfort, because she tilts her head. “You are troubled.”

“I-It just...sort of seems like an invasion of privacy? Being able to read people like that without their consent? I mean, that’s how it works, right?”

Val’s gaze darkens. “You must control your power and use it as you see fit. With practice, you will be able to turn your emotion sensing on and off. It will be up to you to avoid reading others without their permission.”

Nia swallows. “That’s a lot of responsibility.”

“A responsibility that I trust you not to misuse,” Val responds, not quite a threat. “Seeing through words to feel honest emotion is an invaluable skill that could save your life. Not all Pokémon have good intentions.”

Nia frowns, recognizing the truth of that statement. It could certainly help, and she knows she wouldn’t use it for any immoral purposes. So…

“O-Okay. Please teach me.”

Val nods, seeming satisfied. “Aura sensing is different than manifesting your aura into energy for attacking. As a psychic type, I do not have the same capabilities in that sense. I can only give you the basics of aura reading.”

Nia looks back down at her hands, closing them into fists and feeling amazement rise up in her. She knew all Pokémon were different, but... “S-So...only riolu can do aura stuff? Like reading emotions?”

Val nods. “The riolu line, yes. Lucario as well.”

Nia frowns. When she’d read up on riolu, it had mentioned the lucario species a few times. Apparently riolu...became lucario somehow? They called the process “evolution”, but it clearly wasn’t the sciencey evolution Nia knew from biology class, done over generations. Maybe it’s a maturation process? But she’s already an adult, so when would this happen? The riolu considers asking Val, but decides to hold back and question Maggie about it later. Val’s already teaching her so much today.

Val shuts her eyes, so Nia follows her lead.

“Find your aura once more. Breathe, relax, and focus.”

Nia takes a deep inhale before releasing it again, relaxing her body. She imagines that little blue flame in her chest, and concentrates on it.

“Channel into that energy. Expand it outward until you come across my own aura.”

“Expand it?” Nia echoes, uncertain. She tries to flare the energy, make it burn larger, but it doesn’t even get close to the edges of her body. The flame is too weak, barely even leaving her chest in short spurts.

Val hums. “Try to relax your aura. Do not flex it. Let it flow from you like a breath. Like a limb. A veil.”

Nia furrows her brow. How in the world is she supposed to do that? It took her a full afternoon of flexing her butt muscles just to figure out how her tail worked, and that’s an actual limb! She mentally prods at her light, her aura, tries to stretch it out. It simply flickers brighter before shrinking back to normal.

“Do not use it as a blast of energy. Try to thin it out.”

Nia bites back a frustrated whine. She wants to question Val more, but knows that the medicham is doing her best to teach something she herself has never exactly experienced. So she tries, over and over, to stretch that light and make it grow.

“Stop.”

Nia does, peeking up at the medicham. She realizes she’s panting hard, heart racing and muscles tense.

“Take a rest,” Val commands, before her dark eyes slip past Nia. The riolu follows her gaze to see a steaming, out-of-breath Tobias and a cheery Azami walking over. The two sit down near them.

“How’s it going over here, ladies?”

Val nods. “Well. Nia learns quickly.”

Nia straightens up at the unexpected praise.

“Wish I could say the same for this one,” Azami teases, giving Tobias a playful nudge with her elbow. The charmander growls, looking like he wants to set the flowery Pokemon ablaze. “You’re pretty set in your ways, Spitfire!”

Tobias doesn’t answer, pointedly looking away.

Azami smiles at Nia. “So you’re getting the hang of aura, huh?”

Nia laughs. “U-Uh, sort of. Trying to figure out how to stretch out my aura right now. For aura reading? I think?”

“You’ll get it figured out in no time, I’m sure.” Azami turns her grin on Val. “You’ve got yourself a great teacher, after all!”

Val gives Azami a nod of thanks. “Having a riolu or lucario available for teaching would be ideal. Unfortunately, we must try to translate these abilities without one.”

“There aren’t any other riolu near here?” Nia asks, curious.

“Nope! You’re actually a pretty rare Pokemon to see around the Haven,” Azami says. “Riolu and lucario tend to stay in isolated packs, so we don’t usually run into any around here!”

Nia isn’t sure how to feel about that.

Val and Azami call an official stop for a snack break, so the four of them munch on the berries that Nia and Toby had picked up in the morning before arriving. As usual, the charmander doesn’t answer Nia’s attempts at conversation, so she takes to chatting with Azami about the other guild members practicing nearby.

There’s a tiny brown fox pokemon dodging bursts of water from her partner, a wooper, and a lone purple monkey-like Pokemon…juggling? With its feet and tail, nimbly cartwheeling around while managing to keep the berries it’s using in the air. Maybe some sort of agility or dexterity training? Or maybe he just really likes juggling.

The loud crack of splintering wood garners their attention, and they all turn to watch as a lime green gecko with a leaf for a tail strikes at one of the training dummies that Tobias apparently has a reputation for destroying. The gecko pauses, stance wide, and holds his hands close together, almost like he’s holding an invisible ball. A moment later a bright green energy starts to build in the gap.

“Soren’s finally starting to get the hang of energy ball,” Azami explains, fondly. “Knew he had it in him! He’s going to kick tail once he gets it under control.”

Right on cue, the energy swirling in the lizard’s hands seems to come unraveled, dissipating in a flash of green. The Pokemon—Soren—slumps in clear frustration. Azami sighs. “Poor kid’s been working on that for weeks now. He can call up the energy, but can’t seem to get it to keep its form afterwards.”

Val calm, half-lidded eyes lift with interest. “He learned to form the energy in his hand first, yes?”

Azami sits up at Val’s attention. “Uh, yeah. He can use a grassy force palm, more or less. But that’s it for now.”

Val sets her meal aside and turns her whole body to Nia. The riolu would say she almost looks eager, at least in her own stoic way. Nia puts her own berry aside, curious.

“Perhaps we are starting too ambitious. With your aura,” Val says. “Pool your aura into your paw.”

Nia swallows, nervous as she closes her eyes and finds her aura. It’s still strange and takes a few moments, but she thinks it’s getting easier the more she does it. After finding that blue flame, she once again sends it towards her hand, feeling it move slow as honey into her fingertips. She peeks open her eyes, pleased to see the now-familiar blue glow. But what now?

Val reaches out her own hand, slow enough for Nia to track what she’s doing, and then touches the riolu’s palm. Nia bites back a gasp and squeezes her eyes shut, suddenly understanding what Val’s plan is. Nia’s aura is right there, under the skin of her hand, and when she touches Val—

She can see her.

Not in the normal way, not by sight, but she can see the medicham’s…energy? Val’s is bright orange, flickering faintly throughout the shape of her entire body, not nearly as concentrated as Nia’s aura is. It’s just a stable sort of life, a pulse thrumming under the other Pokemon’s skin. Nia turns her attention to the orange color, and somehow feels like she can read what this aura represents, like she can read the very DNA of what makes Val who she is, how her soul is shaped.

She’s orange, but not orange like a mournful, bleeding sunset or the soft, hopeful orange of a flower’s petals. Instead, she is the orange of a bright, ripe, tropical fruit. Nia thinks of the sharp, sweet tang of biting into an orange, the powerful warmth of a summer sun, its confidence and sharp, stern solidity, with a soft, sweet undertone. She understands, but she doesn’t know how she does.

Val’s hand yanks away, and Nia collapses forward, suddenly all too aware of how she’s wheezing for breath and her heart is pounding in her chest, her fingers shaking as they clutch at the ground. Her aura rebounds sharply back into her chest. She takes a few moments to gasp for breath before looking up at Val. The medicham stares back, and for a moment Nia’s terrified that she did something wrong, that she went too far somehow and betrayed the trust that Val had so kindly entrusted her with. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, how could she have stopped it—

But then the medicham just leans closer, reaching out a tentative hand as if she wants to place it on her back, and asks, “Are you all right?”

Oh. Nia hasn’t seen the medicham concerned before. At least, she thinks that’s what it is. She nods, trying to reign in her trembling and her roaring pulse. She glances past Val, seeing Azami watching with her own worried expression. Tobias stares at her with something uncertain and closed off, like he doesn’t know how to react to all of this. Nia almost laughs, because that’s been her reaction to her entire life the past week.

“I-I’m…I’m fine?” Nia rasps, more question than assurance. She looks back to Val. “I saw you. I saw your aura.”

Val leans back, intrigue starting to edge out the quiet concern. “Explain.”

Nia slowly manages to sit back up, feeling herself stabilize a bit. She feels sore, and exhausted, but it doesn’t feel like she’s on the verge of shaking apart anymore. “You’re, um. Orange?”

“What does that mean?” Tobias asks, almost aggressively.

Val doesn’t answer, giving Nia an encouraging nod, so the riolu does her best to recall the sensation of Val’s soul. How does she even describe something like that in words? She’s still not even sure how to logically understand it herself.

“I…don’t know. I don’t know how to describe it. It was just like…I could see what kind of person she is?”

“Not too terrible, I hope,” Val says.

It takes a beat for Nia to realize the stoic Pokemon is joking, and she laughs, maybe a bit hysterical. “N-No, not at all! You felt, um…like, stern and strong, but warm.” And a little sweet, she adds silently, already embarrassed. It sounds so dumb when she says it aloud. She should have suspected the medicham has a sweet side—she offered to take on their team, after all, and that’s a heck of a tall order.

“Sounds dumb,” Tobias snorts. “What’s the point of being able to read aura? You could just talk to someone and know the same things about ‘em.”

Val hums. “Sensing a Pokemon’s true character could be invaluable among strangers and potential enemies. It appears you will have to use physical contact for now. But it could be a very useful ability as your aura powers grow stronger.”

“Oh! Yeah!” Azami cuts in. “And aura can be used for battles too.”

Val nods. “And for sensing emotions.”

Nia perks up at that. “Y-You seemed to think I would be able to sense emotions right away. But I don’t think I did?”

Val shakes her head. “I believe you must look at the aura differently, for that. I am not quite sure how, unfortunately.”

There’s a beat of quiet, save for Tobias going back to munching on his food and the ambient sounds of Pokemon practicing their moves around them.

“Could I try again?” Nia asks. A subtle frown pulls at Val’s face, so she hurries to add, “I’m okay! Really!” Was the medicham actually worried or just annoyed? It’s so hard to read her.

A beat more of hesitation, then Val gestures at Nia’s abandoned berry. “Eat first. We will try again. I have an exercise in mind.”

Nia nods and eagerly returns to her meal. She’s nothing if not curious, and this aura reading ability is unlike anything she’s ever experienced. She thinks so, at least. It certainly doesn’t compare to anything she remembers about her human life. Maybe some crazy technology stuff, but nothing she could do.

When they all finish their food, Azami drags a reluctant Tobias back to where they were training before. Val and Nia face each other again, and the medicham holds out her hand. “I have an idea. I will think of different memories, and you can watch my aura. See if it changes with my emotions.”

Nia nods, takes the other Pokemon’s hand, and closes her eyes to let her aura pool down into her paw. As soon as it gathers into her fingers and reaches Val’s skin, the medicham’s body lights up into a silhouette of bright orange behind her eyelids.

“Ready,” Nia says.

“Go. We must be quick so your power doesn’t drain.”

Nia frowns and focuses on the faint orange aura swirling through the medicham, and the longer she looks, the more her eye is drawn to the medicham’s chest, where the energy is brightest. Oh. Oh, of course. Just like Nia’s aura sits in her chest like a heartbeat, so does Val’s. It’s a tiny flame, like hers, but also strangely liquid. As she watches it, the aura shivers and slows, dimming, and a piece of emotion that Nia has no reason to feel sinks into her own chest.

Sadness. Melancholy, maybe. Something heavy and suffocating. Nia’s breath catches. That isn’t her. That’s not her sadness. She’s feeling it, but it doesn’t feel quite right, isn’t coming from her. It’s alien, foreign, like a mildly ill-fitting sweater borrowed from a friend, or an unfamiliar car she doesn’t know how to use by muscle memory. Something muted that she’s experiencing only through a window, not directly.

Before she can say anything, Val’s energy shifts again, spiking out fast and sharp. Nia almost winces at the feeling prickling at her own energy. Anger. Annoyance? Something along those lines, for sure.

Again, the energy morphs, calming itself into something steady, but flaring brighter, something almost playful in the way it flickers and shakes. A warm happiness washes over Nia, and a breathless giggle slips past her lips. The next moment, the aura sours and pulls itself tight, shuddering and recoiling (fear?), and Val’s hand is ripped away again.

Nia falls forward, barely catching herself on her hands before faceplanting into the ground. Oh, ow, her aura rebounds back into her chest with a snap, and those borrowed emotions evaporate like mist, leaving her with harsh, heaving breaths and a bit of nausea. Why do her muscles hurt?

This time, Val’s hand does find her back, resting there as a comforting, anchoring warmth. Nia remembers the short blip of fear she’d felt (was that for her well-being?) and lifts a shaky hand to give the medicham a thumbs-up while she catches her breath. She worries that she’s going to throw up (she hates throwing up), but after breathing for a minute or so, she feels better. Still exhausted, but at least able to sit up.

“You are okay?” Val asks, meeting her eyes.

Nia laughs. “Yeah! Yeah, I am. I...I think it worked?”

Val finally sits back, relaxing. “Tell me.”

The riolu nods, eager to explain but opening her mouth only to lose her words. How…how does she explain what she just felt? What she experienced? She can’t explain how she understood the aura, felt those emotions herself even. Somehow, she just knew. It’s like knowing how to breathe, like babies knowing laughter without understanding the idea of joy. The waves of aura spoke to her in a way she intuitively knew how to understand.

It’s incredible.

Val must pick up on her issue, because she nods. “I understand. I cannot explain my powers well, either. What emotions did you feel?”

Nia feels her ears flick back as a shyness overcomes her. It still feels so personal to talk about someone else’s aura, all of their deeply held feelings. Even more so with Val, who is always so controlled on the outside. “Uh. I think first you were…sad? And then angry. Or annoyed, maybe? Then you were happy!” Nia hesitates, and then adds, “Right before you pulled away you felt kind of…afraid? I think.”

Val nods her confirmation, and Nia feels a burst of pride. “Correct, mostly. Frustration, not anger. But practicing will better your accuracy and precision.”

Nia can’t help a happy little wiggle at her success. This is so cool!

“Reading different auras will improve your ability. Remember to ask before practicing on someone else,” Val says. “Unless they are an enemy.”

Nia nods, happiness dying away into something more serious. “Of course!”

“Did I hear a success over there?” Azami calls. Tobias is flat on his back and surrounded by scorch marks. He’s glaring up at the ceiling. Yikes, that must not be going well.

“Y-Yeah!” Nia calls back.

The tsareena walks over to them, Tobias rolling his head to watch with narrowed eyes but not rising to follow. “Would you like to try it on me?” Azami asks. “If you aren’t too worn out.”

Nia perks up, but catches Val shaking her head out of the corner of her eye. “No. No more for today. Riolu almost passed out earlier.”

Azami meets Nia’s crestfallen look with a smile. “Cheer up! We can always try it next time.” She turns to head back over to Tobias, calling a cheery “Good job, by the way!” over her shoulder.

“So you are aware,” Val says, catching Nia’s attention again. “It is obvious when you use your aura powers. Others will be able to tell, physical contact aside.”

Nia blinks. “Oh. Could you, uh, feel it?”

Val shakes her head and points to the tear-drop shaped things on either side of Nia’s head. “Your body glows with your aura, and those lift. I believe they aid in channeling and controlling aura.”

“They do?” Nia feels them, curious. Huh. She’d been wondering for days what they were for.

“With practice you should be able to hide such obvious visual tells,” Val adds, thoughtfully. “Eventually.”

Val climbs to her feet and Nia tries to do the same, only to fall back to her knees as her head suddenly spins.

“Rest for the remainder of the day,” Val says, voice distant to Nia’s ringing ears. “You are not used to the strain of aura.”

“But...” Nia glances over at Tobias, now back to slashing wildly at Azami, who neatly dodges each strike. It feels unfair for her to go back to their room and rest while he still has to train, even if she is upset with him.

“Go rest. If you must do something, practice meditating. Or read about moves. Magnolia has told me of your love of books.”

Nia sighs and nods. She has a few questions for the meganium, anyways. “Got it.”

As she carefully rises to her feet, making sure she’s steady enough to walk, the medicham nods approvingly. “Good job today.”

Nia beams as if the medicham had written her a glowing review. “Thank you! I’ll see you later!”

The medicham goes to help Azami with Tobias, and Nia slowly makes her way out of the training area. The stairs are going to be killer. Sure enough, it has to be nearly twenty minutes later that Nia finally makes it to the medical floor. She passes by Fen’s office, glancing in.

The leafy Pokemon is hard at work at her desk—wait, no. Their desk, Nia corrects. Tobias had snapped at her once already for messing that up. Fen has always been such a warm, inviting face when Nia says hi to them in passing, and for a heartbeat, Nia itches to interrupt and ask if she can use her newfound powers to see the leafeon’s aura, to see what color it is. But that would probably be rude on a number of levels, and Fen definitely wouldn’t like Nia potentially throwing up or passing out from the strain. Still, she’s curious. She bets their aura is a comforting pink, or maybe a chocolate brown, like their eyes. Can auras be brown?

Nia shakes off the urge and moves on quietly, making her way back to Maggie’s room. The meganium looks like she only recently returned from gathering herbs, intently sorting through fresh plants on her desk.

Nia hesitates at the doorway. “Hi, Maggie.”

“Hm?” The meganium seems distracted, but then lights up at the sight of Nia. “Hello, dear! Back from training?”

The riolu smiles. “Y-Yeah. Sorry for bothering you.”

“Oh, hush, you’re doing nothing of the sort. Come over here, tell me how training went. You look exhausted. Is Tobias not with you?”

“N-No. Val sent me back early. We did a lot of aura training today and it wiped me out. I-I can see people’s auras now, though! And read their emotions. Kinda.”

Maggie smiles and pulls her vines away from her work to tug Nia against her side in a hug. “That’s fantastic, dear! Would you like to show me? Or are you too tired?”

Nia’s exhausted, and she knows that Val would shoot her a disapproving look for even thinking about trying out her aura powers again so soon, but there’s no way she can turn Maggie’s enthusiasm down! Or her own curiosity, for that matter. “S-Sure! Uh. Give me a sec.”

Nia closes her eyes and puts her hand on Maggie’s leg before reaching for her aura, for that ball of energy in her chest. Despite it getting easier to find, to call to her, she immediately feels the strain put onto her body. She hurries to send her energy down to her palm, letting it reach out to brush against Maggie.

The meganium’s silhouette bursts to life behind her eyelids. Her color is a lively purple, like fresh lavender. It’s beautiful, soft and vibrant and organic. It brings to mind the comfort, the peace and protection, of lying down in a field of flowers on a warm summer day, where nothing bad can happen.

When Nia brushes her aura closer to find Maggie’s emotions, ignoring the distant screaming of her muscles, her connection almost snaps back in surprise. There’s a bit of that same fear that she’d seen in Val, right before she pulled her hand away (worry?), but more than that...Maggie’s aura is almost overwhelming in its warmth, in the genuine affection that settles over Nia like a soft blanket straight out of the dryer. It’s like a wave of fondness, a protective and nurturing feeling.

And in this context, with Maggie focused entirely on her, there’s no one else the meganium could be directing it at. This love is for her. To say that Nia is unprepared for it is an understatement, considering Maggie has only known her for a week.

Nia’s aura finally rebounds, and she falls back to reality as her legs buckle underneath her. Blinking away bright blue and purple after-images, Nia notes that she’s breathing hard again, and that the nausea is back to churning in her stomach (Oh God, not listening to Val was a bad idea). Maggie is fretting over her, near-frantic, vines hovering at the edge of Nia’s vision like the meganium is afraid that somehow she did this, that she’ll hurt the riolu with her touch.

Shoving down her nausea, Nia looks up at the meganium, meeting wide, worried eyes with something like awe. Her throat chokes up. Tears blur her vision not due to the pain, but at the familiarity of the older Pokemon’s warm aura. It reminds her of her mother.

“Nia? Please dear, tell me what’s wrong. Did you hurt yourself? Should I get Fen? Val?”

The riolu laughs, still catching her breath, her voice watery with tears. “N-No, I’m fine. It’s just...”

Some of Maggie’s panic dies out when Nia speaks, and she hesitantly pets Nia’s head with a vine, patiently waiting for her to catch her breath.

“Y-You’re so full of love,” Nia chokes out, recognizing how corny the words sound.” You just...you already care about me. Like, actually care. It caught me off guard.”

Maggie looks surprised, but then her honey-gold eyes soften. “Of course, dear. Don’t ever doubt that.”

Nia has no words, so she just laughs through her tears and hugs the meganium, burying her face in Maggie’s leg. Maggie soothingly strokes her fur with a vine.

“Your aura’s p-purple, by the way,” Nia says, words muffled. “It’s really pretty.”

Maggie laughs. “Well, that’s good to know! Too bad I can’t show it off. It sounds like a lovely color.”

Nia giggles too, feeling an overwhelming burst of happiness and fondness for the meganium. The two stay like that for a while, Nia’s harsh breathing calming down only to be replaced by sore muscles and a pounding headache. She’s never ignoring Val’s advice again.

Nia eventually manages to pull herself away, wiping at her eyes. “S-Sorry for crying all over you. Did you get a good haul today?”

“Don’t apologize for feeling, dear.” Maggie, seeing that Nia has recovered, goes back to sorting her plants. “I found most of what I need, yes, but I do miss Tobias’ help. My eyes are not what they used to be. I would hire a new hand to assist me, but I don’t want Tobias to get upset and feel like I’m replacing him.”

Nia, sitting on the ground and leaning back against the desk, sighs at the mention of the charmander. God, what is she going to do with him? They’ve only been partners for a few days, so maybe he just needs more time to open up, but…Nia’s not sure if she can manage to wait that long. She doesn’t have as thick of skin as she thought she did.

“How is everything going with him?” Maggie asks, voice carefully neutral.

For a heartbeat, Nia considers lying. Then, she rasps, “Honestly? Not great.”

“Mm. I was afraid so. Would you like to talk about it?”

“...Aren’t you busy?”

“I can talk and sort at the same time,” Maggie says.

Nia huffs a quiet laugh. There’s a few moments of silence, and then Nia groans, pressing her palms into her eyes. Her head is pounding. “He’s just...I think he hates me.”

“He doesn’t,” Maggie says, sounding sympathetic. “That’s just...how he is.”

“But that’s not fair! He shouldn’t treat people like that!” Nia says, a little sharper than she means to. Maggie is clearly taken aback by the outburst.

“Sorry,” Nia says, quieter, pulling her knees up to herself.

“It’s fine, dear,” Maggie says after a moment. “You just surprised me, is all.” There’s a moment of quiet, and then Maggie sighs. “Tobias has been...withdrawn since the day I met him. I can’t say how he was before he was found in the mountains. He wouldn’t talk much, initially, and I didn’t push him. He’s always been distant. Distrustful.”

“That’s understandable, if he went through something traumatic,” Nia murmurs. “But...”

Maggie looks sad, eyes distant and dark. “I know. I thought he would open up as time went on. Learn to trust again. Become less bitter. When I brought him back to the guild, he made...far from the best impression. Understandably, the other children did not much like the new Pokémon who was either curled up in bed crying or snapping at them for no reason. He picked fights constantly, and it didn’t help that many of them were weak to his fire. So the others ignored him and sniped at him in return. It turned into a vicious cycle, and now the poor boy’s made enemies of most of the guild. At least those his own age.”

Nia frowns, looking at her feet. Tobias’ horrible attitude is starting to make a lot more sense, but that still doesn’t make it right. But how is Nia supposed to say that to the Pokémon who has pretty much raised Tobias for years? She’d feel horrible. Plus it’s not like she would’ve known what to do instead.

“I’ve just tried to treat him with as much love as I can. I see him as my own son, and I just hope that one day he will soften up, grow from his past and make amends. I just want him to be happy.” Maggie turns to Nia with a soft smile, and Nia’s gut turns over. “That’s why I was so glad to hear that you were willing to give him a chance. He needs someone understanding like you to help him. Someone kind and patient.”

Nia nods, avoiding the meganium’s eyes and hugging herself uncomfortably. Maybe he does, but...she’s starting to wonder how kind and patient she actually is.

“However, that does not mean I wish for you to sacrifice your own feelings. If you need to disband your team with Tobias, I understand. Put your own well-being first.”

Nia sighs, feeling more mucked up than she had when this conversation started. She thought talking with the older Pokémon would make her feel more at ease, not less. The headache isn’t helping, she’s sure. “Right. Thanks, Maggie.”

“Of course, dear. Why don’t you get some sleep? You have a lot to think on and you must be exhausted.”

Nia mumbles an agreement and gets up to go into her and Tobias’ shared alcove. She plops her aching body down into her nest and looks over at her stack of books, thinking about reading to escape her thoughts. Instead, her newly-dyed attack scarf catches her eye. It’s bright red, like Tobias’ own. She still hasn’t worn it, not quite sure how to make it work with the thick collar of fluff around her neck. She scoops it up with a paw, feeling the soft material between her fingers and looking at it thoughtfully in the dying evening light.

She wants to make this work. She really does. She just doesn’t know if she can.

#pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd #pokemon #riolu #pmd seekers of soul #tesha draws #tesha writes

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mallowstep · 3 years

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how do you find the energy and motivation to write like... everyday?? i literally cannot write unless i am possessed by a thought in my brain and forced to spew out everything onto paper. and then i cant look at it again ot edit it. like, i really love writing and if im forced to do it for school i will, but i cant write for myslef.

practice.

first, i want to say that i am going to describe how i write, but it is not necessarily going to work for most people, because it has to do with my own psychology and mental health.

second, i want to say that i view writing as writing for pleasure or writing for work. poetry, for example, i write for pleasure, and i would not apply what i am going to discuss to poetry. that happens when i have something to say. it is OK to not want to write for work. that's acceptable and encouraged.

third, i want to dispel a myth. writing consistently is not about motivation. it is about discipline. and you should take heart in that, because motivation is hard to control. you can't force yourself to want to do something, no matter how hard you try. but if you build up discipline, you can learn to do it anyway.

i'm not going to go into that now, because i'm coming at this from the specific perspective of someone with adhd who uses pressure to force myself to function, which is...a hard balance to strike, and not something i can strictly recommend. it does work for some people. i think of it as an arch.

but i digress, i said i wasn't discussing the specifics of how i function in day-to-day life, lest i encourage others to do as i do.

okay. so. where am i going with all of this?

part one: a long, fairly incoherent ramble about me and mental health and writing

well. i don't think the idea of writing for yourself is very helpful to a lot of people. i do write for myself. but that doesn't get my ass in the chair and my fingers on the keyboard. the thing that does that is not social obligation to others, either, it is the firm knowledge that putting words on paper is going to keep me from falling apart.

i don't do that for myself. i don't do that for anyone but the human need to hold yourself together. i am very happy i feel that need at the moment, and every time i have stopped writing* in the past ten years, i have lost that need.

* writing here should really be replaced with a broader term. creating things. making things. working with my hands and something real. but writing is the best thing i know to fill this in myself.

writing does not feel optional. i started writing seriously when i was not-quite-a-teenager and had untreated depression. it was desperate, then. the need to know i was capable of feeling emotions. since then, writing has been different things at different times. it has been a social need. it has been a creative need. it has been a demanding drive. it has been something i drag myself to do because i know it is good for me.

i don't have to write. i could paint, or draw, or knit, or code, or any number of things. i have used all of those things, and more, in the past, but writing is something i also enjoy.

sometimes writing is dragging myself to the keyboard. it is not always a flurry of words as an idea seizes me. it is, "i am publishing the next chapter of ashes because it is monday and that is what i do on mondays." but.

it is monday, and that is what i do on mondays.

i hate not posting every day. i hate it. i am Untethered. i spent ca. three weeks over the summer completely disconnected from time, but. i post ashes today, it is monday, i move on, i go through the days and they are not the same.

i hate not posting every day. i know that i would be doing better if i could just break through and start again, but figuring out how is hard. some things i know (ibtwicm is stressful because another person is involved, and that means that i cannot work with betas, even though the one i have is absolutely wonderful and i adore her), but other things are just that nebulous idea of not enough time to start.

i don't always have the energy to write. some days are bad. some days my head hurts. i don't have the expectation that i will never miss a day of posting. i've taken plenty of time off. but i like the rhythm.

anyway. let me try to turn that incoherent ramble about me into something...actionable?

part two: what i tangibly do

i have a schedule. that is not requisite, but it saves me from making decisions. i have a schedule and i have fics and one-shots and they all slot into that schedule by arc. i could have done it by anything, but arc was convenient.

anyway.

i figure out what i'm posting when i wake up in the morning, and i try to skim over what i've already got before starting my day. i flick back and forth between writing and whatever i am doing throughout the day.

(which is why, as i transition back into my normal pace, the thing i have been doing to fill the gap will diminish. less au chatter snippets etc, because that is what i have been doing instead of writing.)

by the evening, i'm usually close to done with the draft. i spend a solid chunk of time patching it up, then i do a round of edits, finish my other work, do line edits, and post.

if i have time after that, i start looking at tomorrow's post.

that's it. sometimes i don't want to work on something. too bad. it's on the schedule. or even, "too bad, we're posting something today." unless i am having a bad (read: low spoon) day, i do not waver in that expectation for myself.

in fact, i think the only way ibtwicm will get done is if the final chapter two chapters go up un-beta'd, because the deviation from routine makes me impossibly frustrated with them. we shall see.

anyway. i have spent years building the discipline to be able to do that. if you rely on motivation, do not think you can just flip over and magically learn how to turn an empty page into words because you told yourself that is what you are doing right now. so.

part three: how to build discipline

i said i won't be covering this, and i'm not Really. i'm going to tell you how to get started, and i am going to be the Bad Guy. i am not capable of doing this kindly. there are other, better, resources i encourage you to seek out.

so. you can't start by just. throwing yourself into it. it won't work, it'll be frustrating, etc.

you want to figure out what a reasonable word count/day is for you. i shoot for 3k words/day, but i figure as long as i'm above 1k, i'm happy.

[aside: if you are going to be writing a lot in a day, please take care of your body. have good posture. know how to hold yourself. etc. i credit years of playing piano as giving me strong wrists and nice, curved fingers, and exercises to build and strengthen the same muscles as you use for typing, but just keep this in mind.]

anyway, there's no right number. 100 words is enough. it should be -- what works for me is a number that's just slightly higher than what i can do comfortably, because it means i have to be focused, which keeps me on track. i think this is important. it is not the only way.

and then you just meet that goal. if you're new to this, writing 100 words every day might be hard. you don't have to limit yourself to 100, just hit 100 every. single. day.

eventually that will feel easy.

"i don't feel like writing," you will think, "but i've figured out how to get around that."

then you either feel happy with what you're doing or push your word count up.

me? i don't measure how many words i write, because i've already done all of that. for all i bemoan research and being stuck, i'm generally exceptionally effective. i don't think that's bragging; i think the number of asks i have answered with scenes i whipped out of nowhere demonstrate that.

i have spent years getting to the point where i can open up a blank page, on a day when i feel like crap (emotionally), when i have no ideas and no motivation and every word i put on paper feels robotic and stiff and terrible, and still finish what i started. it's hard work. it might not be worth the effort. but. that's what i do.

#ask #anon #mine #personal #reblogs okay #writing #you know i don't think what i do is the only way or even the best way #what i do is the #what i need to do to be a functional human being #way #and that might not work for you but #i think at the least my thoughts on discipline and routine should be more universally applicable

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tipsydipsydo · 4 years

Text

Poolside Kisses 🍹[M]

Pairing: Jimin x chubby! poc! Reader

Gender of the reader: female

Word Count: 5.6k

Genre: Fluff and Smut

Warnings: mentions of insecurities; Jiminie and his jealousy (but at the end of the fic they're talking about that); Jiminie is horny as fuck; swearing; petnames; filthy language + filthy dirty talk; praising; body-worship; teasing; edging; begging; marking; thigh-riding and thigh-fucking(?); a little bit dom-/sub-themes; a bit of spanking and pussy exhibitionism; semi-public sex (can you count fucking in your friend's house as semi-public sex?); creampie; unprotected sex (stay safe please!); mentions of aftercare

A/N: Finally, I wrote something for chubby! Readers and for poc! Reader as well. The moodboard was ready for weeks but the fic wasn't... And now it got longer than expected!

The texting with my dear @h0esvck inspired me again to write this fic here, after we talked about cute and sexy bikinis for chubby girls and how the boys could react to these swimsuits! (I really love that bikini in the moodboard💕)

Summary: Jimin said, you should pack a swimsuit into your suitcase when you're going to visit him in Korea. You thought, you'll go bathing somewhere privately, maybe just with the boys or so... and not going to a pool party of one of Jimin's Idol friends where you'll not know anybody! Since then you hate yourself that you only brought your new bikini to Korea that reveals more of your bare skin that you're used to...

Note: It's proofread but I'm sorry when there are still some typos

Links:

My Imagines for your requests

My official Masterlist

And as always, everyone can read the fic who's interested in it 🤗💖 Enjoy!

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Since ten minutes you've been staring at the bikini that is spread out on the bed in front of you. You try to come to a solution for the problem that has been bothering you since this morning.

When Jimin said a week ago that you should pack swimwear for your visit in Korea, you already had been a little suspicious and unsettled.

But you couldn't imagine anything else than maybe going with him and the other members to a privately rented pool. Or maybe going to a beach with them, where nobody knows them anyway, so that they don't get too much unnecessary attention.

The boys already know and love you, so they don't care much about how you look like, as long as you're happy and make Jimin happy as well.

With these thoughts, you calmed yourself a little bit down and quickly drove your worries into the last corner of your mind.

That was also the reason why you were thinking about to try something new, instead of just wearing this boring black one-piece swimsuit that you've had for the last six years.

Maybe something cute, a nice two-pieced swimsuit, something like a bikini or so, that flatters your curves and just hugs them in all the right ways. Something that makes you feel sexy and attracts Jimin's attention a bit more than usual.

The thought alone how Jimin always strips you down with his eyes when you wear something close-fitting, which emphasizes your large chest, your round butt or your juicy thighs in the right ways...

...oh god, just the thought of it makes your knees weak and your panties getting wet.

But that's not the point, you have a lot of other problems right now.

At breakfast this morning, Jimin told you for what exactly you need your swimwear. And it's nothing like you thought before, a day at the beach or at the pool and only with the other guys, no.

The real reason is, that one of Jimin's Idol Friends has his birthday today and throw a poolparty in his villa.

That's not how you imagined it...

Of course you are happy that Jimin is not shy about introducing you to all his other friends in addition to the members and showing up with you in public places.

Nevertheless, you're aware that being chubby is not one of the "desirable" standards of the beauty ideals in Korea. Plus, you're a part of people that have a colored skin tone and all of you still have to face unfortunately prejudice and racism in all corners of the world.

That doesn't mean Koreans are racists or they are going to bodyshame someone, oh hell no! But... of course there are always such kinds of worries, like that you couldn't fulfill all the expectations of his friends, ARMYs or in general the whole publicity.

But that shouldn't be your goal either. Jimin loves you the way you are and everyone else should accept and respect you as his girlfriend and thus your relationship.

Nevertheless, a dull feeling spreads out in your stomach at the thought of having to wear this two-pieced bathing suit.

You really like it and you immeaditly fell in love with this bikini when you tried it on while the shopping trip with your friends. You think that it emphatize your curvy figure wonderfully, hides your fluffy belly in a great way and still shows more skin than you are used to.

And that's exactly the point.

You would show more skin than you're actually used to, so you'd walk completely out of your well known and loved comfort zone... and now even in front of strangers you don't know at all!

Everything in you is reluctant to wear this bikini to this party. You had also thought about going on a quick shopping tour into the town this morning. Hoping to find a one-piece swimsuit that can hide your belly a little better than this bikini. But you rejected the thought so fast like it had came into your mind.

You know Seoul far too little to know, where to find the plus size clothing stores. You know they exist! After all, you had been in these shops with Jimin on your recent visits, but you have absolutely no clue where to find them. So you quickly throw this idea into your mental trash can.

So you have no choice but to put on this swimsuit here.

You sigh and look at this two-pieced bathing suit in frustration again. Why the heck were you so stupid and didn't pack both swimsuits straight away in your suitcase, then you wouldn't have this problem now! But you have no other option than to wear it, you don't want to explain to Jimin that you don't want to come to the party because of your swimsuit. He was so happy this morning to finally be able to introduce you as his girlfriend to all his other friends.

You are about to put your dress on when Jimin knocks gently on your door, the door of the guest room (which you hardly really "need" because you sleep with him in his bed all nights anyway) and asks you through the door if you're ready.

You answer him with a hasty "Yes, just give me two more minutes!" and quickly stuff your towels, a pair of fresh underwear, sunblocker and other things that maybe could be useful, into your beach bag.

You slip with your bare, dark blue painted toenails into your sandals and before you walk out of the door, you quickly fix your sun hat and sunglasses as you walk past the large full-body mirror.

You are as ready as you can be when you're going to show yourself to strangers in a swimsuit that is more skin-revealing for your usual standards.

When you open the door and give Jimin, who is standing in the hall and is waiting for you, a small smile, a bright smile spreads on his lips.

His eyes wander slowly down at your body, you don't miss how he licks his lips, which leave you even little bit embarrassed.

But he also looks so damn good in this white t-shirt that he wears, under which you already can imagine his well-built abs, together with this black, low hanging shorts and a pair of black sneakers, made of thin fabric. His outfit is so casual, but at the same time it looks so elegant on him!

"Damn, baby... you look absolutely gorgeous! You look so fantastic, to be honest I don't want to show you the others in this amazing outfit... I bet with you, that they start gawking and drooling because you are so damn sexy. I really have to be careful not to get jealous and to behave decently, so that I don’t do all these dirty fantasies that I have with you in my mind in front of other people’s eyes... ", says Jimin in a half serious, half playful tone and with a meaningful look into your eyes.

"Jimin! Don't say such things, I thought we want to go to the party of your friend!", you reply with a slightly embarrassed smile and hit him with gentle force at his right arm. He's whining a little bit, rubbing the hurting spot after your punch.

"Yes, yes! But that doesn't mean you have to hit me right away!", Jimin whines as you walk down the hall of the dorm to the front door. Like the gentleman he is, he opens the door to the passenger seat of the car dir you and let you get in with a charming smile.

On the way to the party you chat around, laughs about God knows everything and sings together to the latest summer hits that comes out of the radio. Jimin with his angelic voice and then you with your voice, that reminds you more of a screaming cat than anything else. Your boyfriend admits that you still have to practice a bit on your singing talent, but he motivates you with every new song again to sing along with him. But your exuberant, lively mood gets an unwanted damper when you turn into a street and you can already see all the countless cars parked on the roadside from the distance.

Some, like you, just seem to have arrived only a few minutes ago. When you see all these other slim, long-legged beauties in their gorgeous summer dresses or already in their bikinis outfits with these fit bodies, you swallow hard and start chewing on your lower lip. Jimin doesn't miss that.

"Baby?"

"Hm?"

"You think too much, my love. Just look at yourself, you are beautiful! And show that too, show them all how damn attractive you are. They'll love you, I promise! And if anyone giving you a weird look, this person will get a serious problem with me! Okay Darling? I love you and everybody else should know too how much you mean to me... and don't let these silly thoughts in your pretty head up there ruin the evening, okay?"

You take a deep breath and finally nod to Jimin confidently.

He is right, you are probably thinking too negative again. You should also go to this party without the prejudice, that they already dislike you for whatever reason and just think positive and enjoy the day.

"Ready, Baby?"

"Yes, I'm ready."

With a cheeky wink in your direction, Jimin gets out of the car and is fast enough at your door to open it for you again.

You roll your eyes in annoyance, but you can't help but smile.

"Jimin, that's really cute of you, but you don't always have to do that. I'm a confident, independent woman, I'm able to open the door by myself too!", you complain but have to laugh at the end of the sentences.

"Then show them with exactly this body here, how confident you are, my dear lady~", Jimin replies with a husky wisper into your ear, which let a shiver run down your back. You are only able to nod at this moment, try not to be too flustered by Jimin's sex appeal. The same person is fully aware of his influence on you and laughs contentedly as you walk together to the front door.

When the doorbell rings, it is opened by other guests who tell you and use vague hand gestures to indicate where the person, who has birthday today and is the actual party host, could be. You two thanks them and slowly find your way down to the terrace, between all of the chatting, sometimes already dancing and celebrating peoples.

It seems like you'll don't know anyone, really nobody at this party. Sometimes you only recognize some K-Pop Idols here and some other K-Drama actors and actresses there, but you don't know anybody really personally, except of Jimin.

That's why you hold his hand even more tightly, afraid of losing him in the crowd. His thumb draw gentle circles over the back of your hand, he can feel how tense you are, try his best to calm you down.

You're going to be stopped on your actual way to Jimin's Friend by some other idols or international celebrities. You have a small talk with them and you'll be greeted every time with very much enthusiasm when Jimin introduces you as his girlfriend.

You don't really know how to deal with it, least of all with their detailed gaze your body. They don't say anything and their looks are not to be rated directly as negative one, much more in curious and interested way?

But before you can start to worry too much about it, the small talk is already over and Jimin continues to guide you through the crowd to the rightful host, who is in the huge garden behind the villa.

This person greets Jimin with a buddy slap on the shoulder and pulls you into a warm hug, which you had not expected at all. You automatically stiffen up, so that the same person lets you go immediately and apologizes hastily for his inappropriate behavior.

At the same time, you want to make it clear that he didn't do anything wrong and you were just a little surprised. Now you both look at each other in an awkward silence and that makes you twoa little embarrassed, which makes Jimin laugh.

"...and may I introduce to you, that is my girlfriend Y/N."

"H-Hey Y/N! Nice to meet you! Jimin has told me so much about you and every time that happens, I got more curious to finally meet you! And when he said, that you'll be in Seoul in the week when I planned to throw my birthday party, I asked him, to please bring you here, so that I can finally get to know you in person. And when you two just showed up with holding hands, I got carried away a bit. Sorry for my overexited hug. But to Jimin's credit I can already say, that he has an exellent taste for amazing girls, like you are.", he says and gives Jimin and you a playful wink.

At this moment, a waitress with wonderfully decorated cocktails on a tray comes past you and Jimin's friend stops this person with a small gesture to give you two a cocktail of your choice. You all thank the waitress before letting her continue her round through the crowd.

Now the host returns his attention to you again.

"I am really happy that you made it to my party and that you-" at that moment he's looking at you with a big smile "... and that you have also agreed to come here! I assume that unfortunately you don't know that many guests here yet. But I can assure you, nobody will bite you here. But if somebody chat you up or so, please inform me or to the security guards, okay? Some of my guests may starts acting like the last idiots when they're drunk, but I don't let them ruin my party." The way he looks at you completely seriously and at the same time gives you an encouraging smile shows you, that he really tries his best to make you feel comfortable here.

You talk for another ten minutes or so, Jimin's friend already makes you laugh here and there with some jokes, so that you pretty fast don't feel like the "new girlfriend of his buddy" anymore. It's his charm that calms you down and you relax more and more with it. You realize, that everything isn't as terrible as you thought it would be.

To your relief, you also realize that your horror imagination is not coming true. Nobody is gawking at you like you're an exotic animal in the zoo. Nobody behaves weird around you and you haven't noticed until now that anyone starts gossiping about you or your relationship with Jimin.

Only one thing seems to be important to everyone. A great atmosphere and thus an unforgettable evening.

You are so engrossed in the conversation that you wince in surprise when someone taps your shoulder gently. You turn around and there is a girl in front of you, already in a bikini and soaking wet. She seems to have come straight out of the pool to you.

"Hey! You're... Y/N, right? I just want to ask you if you would like to come into the pool and play water volleyball with us? We need one more female player for our team, we want to beat the boys!", she says and point into the direction of the pool, where the other players wave with their hands enthusiastically and want to encourage you to play along with them.

Nevertheless, you look back at Jimin, still a little bit uncertain. Your boyfriend gives you an encouraging kiss on the lips and says teasingly: "Don't look at me so questioningly, come along and show them your talent. You can give me your dress and bag."

Before you can decide against it, you quickly slip out of your sandals and pull your summer dress over your head. You already put the bikini on when you still was in the dorm.

The girl who asked you for the game enthusiastically claps her hands together and immediately grabs your wrist to lead you to the pool.

Only in the corner of your eyes you can see how Jimin's jaw drop at your sight and look at you in disbelief.

However, you don't have time to think about his reaction. You are barely in the water and on your official position when the game already starts.

To be honest, you never thought that this afternoon and evening could turn out to be so good and that you just could play with the other games so boisterously. That everyone just treats you as normal like you are and nobody cares how you look.

But you get the first doubts, that everything is not as good as you think, when you see Jimin on the poolside with a less happy expression on his face. You apologize to the others and tell them, that you have to go to your boyfriend for a minute.

"Jimin? Is everything alright? What happens?", you als him, eyebrows drawn together in alarm.

"Y/N, can you come out of the water, please? I need to talk to you," Jimin replies shortly, looking at you intently.

"O-Okay, of course."

When you're about to step out of the water, he already starts to unfold your bath towel. As soon as you get out of the pool, he has put it over your shoulders and gripped your wrist. Without saying a word, he starts moving and pulls you to the door of the terrace and goes back into the house with you. Everything looks like that Jimin wants to drive home from the party prematurely and hastily.

"Jimin? Now tell me, what happened that you seem to want to go home just... now?!", you finally ask him, finding his behavior really questionable.

Your boyfriend just mumbles something incomprehensible, looks around in the hallway until he sprints up the stairs to the first floor with you.

"Jimin, we just can't-"

But the last words of your sentence get stuck in your throat when Jimin seems to have found what he was looking for all the time. The guest room.

He briefly looks around again to make sure that no one has followed you and noticed something about your unauthorized solo-action. Then he grabs the doorknob and quickly pulls you into the room and closes the door behind you.

You just want to start protesting again and ask him for a plausible answer for his behavior. But then you're already being pushed against the door and Jimin's hungry lips are chasing yours.

The kiss is intense and greedy right at the beginning, Jimin's tongue is demanding, doesn't give you any time to understand what's going on.

"Baby, how dare you! These things I said to you when you came out of the guest room in this beautiful and sexy summer dress, I meant them absolutely seriously. How dare you, despite of my warning, to tease me so fucking much?! Then you don't have to be surprised that I can't hold back anymore. And besides that...", growls Jimin in a husky voice between two kisses in your ear.

"...I hate it how all the boys just looked at you all the time. They're speculating whether you were already in a relationship and how they could flirt with you... don't you understand that every guy down there wants you because you're so damn sexy?"

"Wait what, Jimin? I-I don't understand..." you stammer helplessly, your mind is already clouded by these breathtaking kisses Jimin gave you.

Jimin takes a deep breath, acting like he's trying to calm himself down.

"Your bikini, Babygirl. With this damn bikini you drive me crazy and wrap every guy around your little finger without even noticing. Seeing you in such an outfit is a real sin, Baby...", he whispers in your ear.

Let the tip of his nose slide down your neck, inhale your scent, which has such an aphrodisiac effect on him. His hands find their way from your chubby cheeks down to your plush hips and grabs them firmly.

"Fuck, you're so sexy... I love you and your body so damn much that it hurts... I mean... literally!", he growls and rubs his already rock hard erection on your thick thigh.

"You look so damn sexy in this swimsuit and pretend that you have no idea what effect you have on me... and unfortunately also on these other guys down there... it's a shame! I think, I should show you what kind of indecent thoughts you've put in my head with this body, only covered by this little bit of fabric.", comes it panting from Jimin's lips.

He lets the wet towel drop from your shoulders onto the floor and steps a bit away from you to admire your whole beauty to the fullest. A shiver of desire runs down your spine, causing that something, that is all too familiar to you, starts growing in your abdomen. You start to squirm under his intense gaze.

"I'm really wondering who can be responsible for designing such a cute and at the same time so sexy swimsuit. And fuck. It looks incredibly good on you! How can you always wrapping me around your little finger? Hm Baby? Explain it to me...", purrs Jimin dreamily as he lets his hands wander on your big, perfect round ass and grabs it hard.

A whimper leaves your lips whe you feel his mouth on your neck, spreading kisses and is eager to give you enough hickey that everyone will surely see them. Just knowing that he marking you as his, as his girlfriend, makes your pussy even wetter than it already is.

"Don't tell me you're jealous, Jiminie~", you say teasingly, but at the same time you start moaning with closed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. He positions his right leg between your juicy thighs, flexes his thick thigh muscle just at the right moment and rubs it over your clit. Mastering thigh-fucking in a standing position so fucking well should be prohibited.

"Would you rather explain to me how I couldn't get horny and jealous at such a sight... and Baby? Do you like that? Do you like it how I fuck you with my thigh? How well I can stimulate your clit with it? I already can feel how wet you are... isn't that embarrassing for you, how desperate your pussy has become, just from grinding a little bit on my thigh?", he whispers. He doesn't even try to hide his satisfaction.

His words send an electric shock through your body... just the thought that you really look as good in the bikini as you hoped, so that Jimin can think of nothing more than to do dirty things with you. And then other guys also have noticed you, which has made Jimin so jealous, turns you more on at this moment than you would like to admit. You didn't want to make him jealous at all, but fuck... that's just so freaking hot and you could say your "plan" has more than worked out!

His hand travels to your breasts, pulls with a rough yank the top of your bikini over your breasts, a moan are leaving his lips when he see your big, beautiful breasts. Your nipples are already hard and are just waiting to be caressed.

"F-Fuck... Jimin... G-God... I-I need you!", you whimper as he wraps his lips around your left nipple. You grind in his thigh even more, at the end you start riding him.

"So damn desperate... but only for me. Right?"

"Yes, Jimin, yes! O-Only for you. B-But please, I-"

"Hm? What, Babygirl? What do you want? What are you so desperate for, my Dear? Tell me~"

Jimin loves to tease you. He doesn't give you what you need until you spell the dirty words out by yourself. He loves the way you get shy, always starting to stutter in a damn adorable way until those dirty words come over your own lips. He loves it when his good, decent girl says indecent and sinful things. He loves it when you talk dirty to him.

"I-I want your big hard cock in my wet pussy... I-I... Oh god, Jimin... P-Please just fuck me... Please just fuck me like you already imagined...", you whine and bite your lower lip because of all this desire and need in your body. You need his cock in your pussy now.

"Theoretically, you teased me a lot more with this godlike body, right? But we don't have the time for more teasing, I'll stuff your plump, pretty and sweet pussy with my big cock now and gonna fuck you so damn well~ Just look forward to the moment we're back home again... then you will get your well deserved punishment for making me so horny with this sinful outfit.", Jimin promised to you with a dark, lustful gaze.

With his hands on your delicious ass, he leads you from the door to the bed, which is placed on the opposite wall of the room.

"On your hands and feet, I want to fuck your naughty pussy nice and deep from behind. And you know how I loves it, to see your ass cheeks jiggle when I fuck you doggystyle~"

Oh God, now it can't be ans longer just water, that drips through the bottom of your panties onto the floor. Even if you don't want to admit it, his dirty talk and dominant behavior always makes a mess out of you.

In a matter of seconds, you turned your back to him and crawled onto the bed on all fours. For a very short moment you're sorry to ruin the neatly made bed with your still dripping body and the unrestrained sex, that will follow now.

As soon as you have brought yourself into a comfortable and "stable" position, Jimin pulls your bikini panties down with an impatient tug. You moan in anticipation when you feel the cold air on your bare cunt, even starts to wiggle with your ass a bit more, knowing what kind of effect it has on Jimin.

A deep growl leaves his throat when he sees your plump, fluffy pussy lips are coated all over with your arousal. The way your thick ass cheeks jiggle causes that he gives you a hard slap on the your right butt cheek, what makes you whimper.

"Behave, little Girl.", he says quietly from behind with a warning undertone.

But he doesn't fill your needy pussy immediately, he prefers to pull your ass cheeks apart at first, to have a much better view of your cunt. When he spreads your pussy lips with his index and middle finger open and sees your desperately waiting hole, clenching around nothing. Then he also lost his patience.

With uncoordinated movements of his hands, he pulls his shorts and boxers briefs down to his knees, grabs your hips with a firm grip and push himself into your tight pussy without any warning.

A little cry out of surprise and initial pain comes over your lips, but then you remember that you're having sex in a place where you shouldn't (especially not at this early hour!) and pressing your hands on your mouth quickly.

That’s better anyway. When Jimin fucks you hard, there are always noises coming out of your mouth that you never heard before from yourself.

In short: When Jimin fucks you hard, you're loud. Shamefully loud.

Your boyfriend doesn't give you much time to get used to his cock. But after these days you barely need to get used to it anyway, you have been doing it too often for the past few nights.

His thrusts are perfect, absolutely perfect... hard, fast and incredibly deep. Stretching your pussy just in the right way in all perfect places. And the more you can't hold up yourself on your arms because of the pleasure, the more you sag with your upper body onto the mattress.

This changes the angle even more and Jimin fills you up even deeper than before, finding that sweet spot in your body again. That spot that lets you see stars and the desire almost explodes deep inside your abdomen. But only almost.

This here is the best method for Jimin to torture you. Driving you to the edge of lust, but it's still not enough to let you cum.

Jimin loves this sight.

He loves how your chubby body just shows him how well he fucks you. How the soft, plush flesh of your love handles or your ass cheeks jiggle with every hard thrust that his hips gives your plush body.

How plump your pussy lips are, but how fucking tight your hole is, gripping his hard cock so damn well. He loves to places his palm between your thick thighs on your fluffy vulva, so soft because of that delicous extra flesh and toying your clit to elict even more sweet moans and whimpers from your lips.

"O-Oh my God, Jimin! P-Please don't stop, oh god, please don't stop fucking me and rubbing my clit like that! I-I'm gonna... I'm gonna c-cuu-", you moan, scream at the end, but you just can't stop yourself from being fucking loud.

And to be honest, Jimin doesn't want you to mute your voice. Deep inside of him, his little, dirty devil wants everyone down there to know that he's fucking you onto cloud nine.

When you cum, your walls contract so tightly, Jimin can't help but cum too, your pussy literally milks every drop of his cum out of his cock.

With a deep groan shoot Jimin his load deep into your pussy, mark you in the filthiest way possible as his girl.

You two are breathing heavily and have your eyes closed, Jimin lies himself down on your back. His hands slowly relax from the rigid grip on your hip, then he wraps his arms around your soft belly and lets himself fall to one side together with you, before he becomes too heavy for you.

In the following minutes your breath regulates themself and a certain silence gradually returns to the room. Only the dull bass of the music from outside breaks the silence, accompanied by laughter when someone jumps into the pool, screaming.

Jimin has softened and now slides out of you easily. You can feel the mattress sink under his weight as he gets up and goes into the guest bathroom to get a soft, wet washcloth for you.

He quietly asks you to turn yourself on your back. He gently opens your legs and carefully cleans the mess between your thighs, trying his best to get you rid of his cum. After all, you want to stay a few more hours after this... Quickie? Can you call his here a Quickie?

It takes a moment for you both to straighten your clothes and hair so that no one can immediately see that you had wild sex less than 15 minutes ago.

Jimin is about to unlock the door when you grab his wrist.

"Jimin, let's be honest. No more strange jealousy actions today, okay?"

Jimin turns to you, looks at you thoughtfully until a cute smirk forms on his lips.

"Jealousy? I don't know that word, not anymore after I've marked your beautiful neck and chest all in detail. Now everyone will know that you're my girl!", says Jimin and gives you a quick kiss on the cheek.

You roll with your eyes and look back at him, pretty annoyed.

"Jimin!"

"Yes, yes, Honey. I know... I know that I have to work on my jealousy problem...", Jimin says in a reassuring voice and looks at you seriously, showing you, that he understood what you mean.

"... but still you can't deny that you like it when I give you hickeys. When I visited you last time, I saw you proudly and satisfied admired my love bites in the mirror!", he reply with a mischievous and playful smirk.

"Oh god Jimin, you're going to shatter my last nerves!", you grumble and shoo him through the door.

You hate it that you can barely be mad at him over a longer time!

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constantlyunlightening · 4 years

Text

Song Bird

Day 9: Cage with Keigo Takami

Other kinks/warnings: None, I think. Pretty straight forward

I cannot explain to you why I have decided to put more emotional baggage inside of a kinktober fic??? Idk. This one is a LOT sweeter than my Enji fic and I wouldn’t even call it angst. I just don’t know how to write Hawks without putting some of that inner turmoil in him. But for the most part, this fic is a sweeter kink one.

I just wanna flirt with Keigo, you guys. He’s my pretty bird T~T

Disclaimer: 18+ only to read. All characters are aged 20+

“Pretty sure it’s the bird that’s supposed to be in the cage, Keigo,” you folded your arms above your head, resting them against the golden metal of the bars that lined the cage. Where Keigo had gotten a human sized bird cage was beyond her, but it was pretty. It reminded you of one of those antique canary cages, just a whole lot bigger. It felt sturdy too as you leaned your weight against the bars, letting your gaze meet an amused Keigo who stood on the other side, twirling the ring of a sparkly key on his finger.

“Aw, come on now, I’ve been caged my whole life. May as well let me know how it feels to be on the other side of things for once.” A snarky grin was painted onto his lips as you made a show of rolling your eyes, pushing off the bars in front of you and instead leaning on the ones behind you. It was only a step or two back. It wasn’t completely restrictive by any means but you certainly didn’t have a ton of wiggle room in here. But the opening between the bars, although not wide enough to allow you to squeeze through, were spread enough apart that you didn’t feel too claustrophobic. "You look so pretty when I know you can’t fly away from me.“

A little extreme, but you were fairly sure he was joking. Keigo had a weird sense of humor once in awhile. He usually came off as sarcastic and casual, but sometimes he’d slip a comment or two in that would just feel… odd. But you were used to it at this point and you knew that a few awkward lines or dark moments didn’t make him a bad person. And so you took the time to give him a sweet smile, reassuring him gently. “As if I would ever want to,” you mused gently and you noted the little extra bit tug upwards on the corners of his lips. “But for real, birdie. Why’d you put me in here?”

When you had gotten home today, Keigo had excitedly pulled you into your room, showing off his latest splurge. You had been a little thrown off at first but your curiosity got the best of you and you had went in closer, inspecting the door, he made a show of pretending to accidentally bump you in there. You knew it wasn’t an accident with the little “whoops” that had melted off his lips, but as he shut and locked the door behind him, it was clear he meant to get you in here. You were just trying to figure out why.

The dark chuckle he sent you in response gave you reason to believe that whatever reason it was, it was something untoward of him. You were down. That low rumble of laughter had a way of melting your core the second you caught the vibrations.

“Spice things up a little? I don’t know. Sounded fun.” He shoved the key to the door in his pocket, hiding it from view before red wings contorted behind him as he slipped them out of his jacket before tossing his coat away, letting you take the time to admire the lean form of his arms. He wasn’t nearly as built as someone like Allmight or Endeavor but you liked the more toned-out look of Hawks anyway. Wasn’t built like a wall maybe, but he wasn’t lacking muscle by any means either. “I figured you’d look cute all trapped for me. And I was right. Makes me wanna play with you.”

He was right about something else too. It did sound kind of fun. In any case, it couldn’t hurt to try it out. But you were a bit too sassy to just give your birdie what he wanted. And, besides, he strived off getting control of a situation on his own. “Better be careful how many games you try and play or I might come out of here seeking revenge. I could just try to come and eat you up,” you hummed, flirtation lacing your voice. You didn’t miss the way marigold eyes darkened at you and he practically licked his lips.

“Don’t tempt me. Now I’m almost wondering if I should have been in the cage instead.”

“It’s not too late to trade out, pretty bird.”

“I said almost.”

He was up against the bars and you before you realized it, his arm shot out through the bar and he grabbed you by the neck, tugging you up to the front of the cage and giving a small squeeze around you.. He wasn’t actually squeezing hard enough to do much more than slow your breathing a little, but the action was enough to leave you staggering with the suddenness of it. His other hand was gripped tight around the bar to keep his face from smashing up against the cage as his eyes drifted to the claw he had on your pretty throat. “You’re cute when you think you’re in charge, but I feel like making it clear who’s calling the shots today.” A tighter grip for just a second before he loosened up almost completely now just using the hold to gingerly keep you in place. You could try and move away but both of you already knew who was faster. Your heart was moving faster now but a flood of heat had already started to blister through you and you met his gaze with a huff.

“When I think I’m in charge?”

“Yeah. It’s only because I let you be,” he retorted simply, and the way he shrugged his shoulders at you almost pissed you off, but as his hand slipped away from your neck and moved slowly down your body, tracing over the contours of your body with feather touches, your emotions were preoccupied. “But still, there’s something different about you being trapped here for me. Nowhere to run.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, his hands dragging up underneath your shirt, letting his hand feel the warmth of your skin as they crawled. “I could do some really bad things to you.”

It wasn’t his usual demeanor and you were torn between being heated and being concerned as he cupped your breasts over your bra, kneading your chest in drawn out motions. In the time you had been dating him, you had figured out that Keigo’s carefree demeanor wasn’t something that was actually all that carefree. There was a lot more anxiety that swam deep under the surface and he was starting to show it to you more and more. You never pushed - you weren’t going to force his feelings out of him - but you couldn’t help but be curious about the baggage he seemed to be holding onto. And the odd lull in his voice right now made you wonder if he was showing you some of that now.

Weird time to reflect, and an even weirder time to try and help as you were being fondled but still. “You could. But you won’t,” you clarified softly as you dragged your shirt up, only to put your hand on top of his, helping him massage your chest, locking your fingers on top of his even as your back arched.

His brows raised just a fraction, you almost missed it. But the way his voice came out with a laugh next, you felt yourself ease a bit. “You sound confident. Be careful, I’m a bad, bad guy ya know?” Another squeeze, this time pushing pressure upwards, before letting go and applying the same attention to the other side.

“No, you’re not. Not to me,” you were ready with your response, as clearly as before. Whatever heavy emotions he carried, you wanted to soothe them in the ways you could. And he seemed to enjoy that response as his wings fluffed out behind him.

That odd air about him was gone now, and he flashed you a smile so predatory that your thighs clenched even as he tugged his hand away, retreating it back to his side.

“Oh, no. I’m a bad guy especially to you.”

You’d didn’t mind this kind of bad at all.

“Take your clothes off for me,” he was cooing now as he folded his arms over his chest and simply waited. You resisted the urge that came to listen. You wanted this man to wreck you, sure. But attitude came first when he was feeling cocky.

“And if I don’t-”

Before you could even finish your words, a single feather darted in between the bars and you squeaked as it nimbly sliced the fabric of your shirt and just barely missed you. “I suppose I can give you some motivation.”

“Hey, I liked this shirt!” You whined even as suddenly you found yourself obliging, the threat of his feathers ripping off your clothes making you tingle. Maybe that’d be an idea for another day when you weren’t particularly fond of your outfit - or locked in a cage.

“Told you I was a bad guy. Now strip. All the way, my cute little captive.” He continued on with a sweet hum, his eyes burning into you as you discarded your wardrobe, letting it pile up on the floor of the cage. He had your body practically memorized and yet he took it in every time like it was the first time he ever got to see you. “Absolutely gorgeous."

When you kicked your panties off of your heels, that’s when you glanced back to Keigo to see him circling his finger, indicating you to turn around with a silent gesture. You weren’t sure how he would motivate you to move if you didn’t listen this time but you didn’t find out. Instead, your body spun to face the other direction for him and he whistled a little tune at the sight of your backside. "Now you’re listening? Cute. Keep it up and I just might reward you for it.” His hand was shot through the cage again and he reached around to grab the front of your thigh and dragged your entire body back so you were backed up against the bars. “Move to your side a little. There you go, right there,” molten heat welled in his voice as he guided you to stand with your center right between two of the bars, giving him a nice view of your ass - “spread your legs” - and your dripping cunt.

He went quiet for a moment, but a rustle behind you and the sound of clinking metal filled the silence. The sound of a belt, the sound of rustling fabric, then he was behind you, with something hard slipping between your legs and gently smacking against the most needy part of your body. “If you don’t wanna fall, bend over and grab the bars in front of you. Better keep that ass pushed back over here though,” he declared as he slid his length back and forth against you, playfully dipping against your hole before sliding back forward. You bit your lip, but in the next moment, you dipped at the waist, getting a grip onto the metal as you pushed the rest of your weight back into your heels, letting the bars make indents against your backside and you gave a whine as his cock sunk into you from between the bars. “I’m about to turn my pretty girl into a song bird.”

#hawks #keigo takami #keigo x reader #bnha smut #kinktober #i love this man so much #but anyway #if all goes to plan ill be double posting today #im thinking either aizawa or shoto #idk

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t-o-m-hollands · 4 years

Text

Summery: Tom is not entirely sure of how it happens. But one moment he’s the gardener of Locksley Hall, and the next he’s run off to marry the lords daughter. A girl he despises.

Well, sort of.

Warnings: Smoking.

A/N: this is (loosely) based on the Locksley Hall poem by Tennyson, but the relationship between them is pretty heavily inspired by Atonement by Ian McEwan (the first part of the book) and the story at large also slightly inspired by Downton Abbey. Also, I’ve changed the law in this. As I understand it (from watching Downton Abbey) girls could never inherit the estate, no matter if she was married or not. Here you will inherit, but only if you are married and it will then go to your husband. Also, I was listening to Old Money – lana del rey the entire time I was writing this.

Locksley Hall, England – 1920.

It’s June, and Tom finds himself praying for rain.

It’s one of those summer days when the air stands still. Not a whiff of wind, no breeze in the trees, not a cloud in the sky. Just an ever-pressing, inescapable heat that seems to paint the whole world a hazy golden shade.

He’s knee-deep in the earth, sweat running down his back, shovelling soil under the merciless sun. It’s midday and the warmth is intolerable. He can already feel the blisters he’ll have on his hands tomorrow. To top it all off his head is pounding and he reminds himself to give Harrison a good kick in the chin the next time he sees him; for convincing him that one more drink wouldn’t hurt.

And god, he desperately wants a cigarette.

“God, it’s hot today” Madeleine’s bored voice drifts out the open window. “One can hardly think straight”.

Tom lifts his head and observes her through the glass. The owner of the voice is in the conservatory. Wearing a lace dress and her dark curls perfectly pinned into place. She is primly drinking tea alongside her mother; safely hidden away from the beaming sun.

He swipes the sweat from his forehead before shovelling the spade further down in the dirt. A sudden urge to throw some of the earth through the conservatory window hits him, just enough to dirty up her white gown. But he resists it. Instead he sits down by the flowerbed and leans his pounding head against the wall. His sore muscles scream in relief. Lighting a cigarette, he then closes his eyes and inhales deeply. The whole world goes white as the sun shines through his closed eyelids and a soft sigh escapes him.

“Have you received any more letters from Sir Hatfield?” He hears lady Locksley inquire from inside.

“What, James?”

“Yes, of course James, has he written you again?”

“Thankfully not”.

“Oh, don’t be silly child, he’s the owner of Hatfield house! God knows you could do worse than him” Lady Locksley scolds her oldest daughter. Despite himself Tom’s interest is peaked, so he keeps smoking and listening to the conversation, ignoring his gardening duties.

“But he’s such a bore” Madeleine whines in response. “Honestly mother, all he ever talks about is hunting. And Hatfield house is a terrible building, you know I can’t stand Tudor architecture. Plus, James is ancient.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s not ancient, he’s ten years younger than your father.”

“Exactly, and I’m two-and-twenty years old!”

“Oh, do be quiet, you’re very lucky he’s shown any interest in you at all. I have talked to your father about this. It’s high time for you to get married. Ever since Francis…” she trails off and Tom knows why. Francis had been her oldest child and only son, the one set to inherit the land and the title. Who had died in the war during the battle of the Somme. Tom had known Francis and had not been fond of him. Upon hearing about his death he’d wondered if the heir had been shot by one of his own, though he did not air this suspicion. Tall and handsome Francis may have had been, but he had also been entitled, rude and unkind to animals. He’d beaten his horses, screamed at the servants and taunted his sisters.

Lady Locksley continues with a new air of authority in her voice. “It’s more important than ever before that we find you a good match. You know what’s at stake if you don’t marry and marry soon”.

Silence for a second, and unease is setting like lead in Tom’s stomach. Maybe this isn’t a conversation he should listen in to.

“Yes, I know.” The words sound heavy and reluctant in Madeleine’s mouth.

He opens his eyes and discretely as he can he pops his head up to sneak a look through the window. The look on the young heir’s face strikes him. It’s not sad, nor angry or dismayed. It’s apathetic. Like she’s somewhere far, far away.

“Boy, I thought I told you to start digging!” Bertie Higgins voice booms over the grounds as he crosses the corner of the building and walk towards Tom, who quickly puts out his cigarette.

An elderly man, with bushy beard and eyebrows, a bit too fond of beer and with fingernails so dirty Tom wonders if they’ve ever been cleaned, walks towards him. Mr. Higgins has worked as the head gardener on the grounds of Locksley Hall for longer than anyone could remember.

“Sorry Mr. Higgins, I just took a breather” he says before putting out his cigarette and picking up his shovel again. Mr. Higgins observes him for a moment, then he leans in closer and whiffs of the beer the older man had for lunch hits Tom’s face. “Listen, boy” he says in a low voice “no good will come from spying on them gentle folks, hear me? No good will come of it”.

“Mr. Higgins I wasn’t -” Tom begins to defend himself but the gardener pats his shoulder and continuous in his stern voice. “Is no use lyin’ to me, boy, I’m too old, I’ve seen too much. You’ve been sniffin’ after that young heir since you came back. ’s no use lad. Them folks are not for the likes of us, above your station she is, well above your station.” Tom wants to protest. For he has most certainly not been sniffing after anyone, least of all Madeleine Locksley, but Mr. Higgins continues. “Now Alice,” he says and pats his shoulder again “she’s some good maid she is, why not ask her out?”

Alice was indeed a maid at Locksley Hall. Pretty and always ready for a laugh. She’d made it perfectly clear of her interest in him too. There was however a streak of pettiness to the girl that he wasn’t too fond of, and therefor he’d reclined her thus far. But he doesn’t particularly feel like sharing that with Mr. Higgins.

“Now boy” Mr. Higgins goes on. “You had your breather, go back to diggin’, if I told you once I told’ you a thousand times, you dig when the sun’s out and the dirt is dry an’ you water when the sun’s gone down”.

Tom goes back to digging, the sun burning his neck, and his joints already protesting.

He doesn’t notice Madeleine’s brown eyes observing him from within the conservatory.

***

The bathwater has gone cold. Still, she stays in the water. The prospect of putting down her book and getting up and ready for yet another family dinner seems dull at best. The rose-scented cold water feels refreshing against her skin. Today really had been unbearably hot.

Still the heat lingers in the air.

Outside the bathrooms leaded windows the last rays of daylight are lighting up the grounds. Though the light in the gardener’s cottage is already lit.

Dropping her copy of Pride & Prejudice to the floor she sinks further down into the water. Leaning her head back against the edge of the tub she closes her eyes and sighs.

She’d just gotten to the part in the book where Elizabeth refuses Mr. Darcy’s proposal and it had annoyed her. How Elizabeth could refuse Mr. Darcy and all his possessions, and it didn’t lead to despair and desolation for her entire family, instead, as if by the waving of a magic wand, everything worked out beautifully in the end. That wasn’t real life.

Everything was annoying her today. Her mother’s persistent nagging, her father’s detachment, granny’s constant complaining. Tom’s strong arms wielding a shovel. The cotton shirt sticking to his sweaty back, the suspenders holding up his muddy trousers.

She sinks further down into the cold water.

Tom had looked annoyed today as well. But then again, he’d seemed permanently aggravated ever since he got back from France, at least in her presence. She’d seen him laugh plenty of times with Harrison from the pub when she visited the village, and with Alice too. He’d even crack a smile from time to time with Mr. Higgins. But her presence always seemed to put a frown on his face.

It had not always been this way.

As children they had played. They had explored the woods like travellers discovering a new world. Had run over the poppy fields pretending they could fly. They’d made it down to the sea and Old Sailor Joe had told them stories of Odysseus, and his long journey home. They’d sneaked out and slept under the stars and he had told her all of what Mr. Higgins had taught him about botany. Of how the things we sow in the ground with time will grow. About which flowers could kill you, and which ones could heal.

They had shared secrets and kept them between themselves, solemnly sworn blood-oaths with all the seriousness of a promise between children. They’d sworn that whatever happened between them stayed that way. That his secrets were hers and she’d keep them to her grave, and likewise for him.

Then she’d been sent away to boarding school and he had gone to the village school and that had been the end of that. During the holidays so much time had seemed to have passed between them that it was hard to pick up the threads of childish games where they’d left them. Then, war had broken out and she’d been sent to live with relatives in Canada, and Tom, well, Tom had joined the army.

Once they’d seen each other again years had passed, and they were strangers to one another.

The last evening light shines over the grounds of Locksley Hall, but Madeleine doesn’t move out of her bath, instead she stares out the window, feeling no motivation to move.

Everything is fleeting, that was what she kept feeling. The hours, the days, the weeks, the months and years. Time passed her by so rapidly and yet all the days looked the same. She felt like a leaf landing in a river, being swept away with the stream with no control of where it was going or were it’d end up. Soon, she would be married, most likely to dreary James Hatfield, and then they would settle in Hatfield house and she would never spend her days roaming the grounds of Locksley Hall again.

Or maybe, she wouldn’t marry, and upon the death of her father and in the lack of a male heir, all their lands and possessions would go to the crown, and they’d all would be left with nothing.

A scream works itself larger in her throat. It had started earlier that day, with her mother in the conservatory. It would only grow larger, and larger until she wouldn’t be able to hold it in any longer. She knew this much from experience.

It felt like this,

In school they’d been taught about diamonds, about how with heat, pressure, and time diamonds are formed to something so unbreakable and everlasting that only another diamond can cut it. She’d imagined how all the screams she’d held inside, pressed between two lungs, over time created so much pressure that they’d turn her insides into diamonds.

As a child she and Tom had snuck into the library one night. In a book of medical terms they’d found the word autopsy with the description: “An examination of a body after death to determine the cause of death or the character and extent of changes produced by disease — called also necropsy”. Not understanding much of this they had searched the other medical books until they found a more thorough description of what the word meant.

She had been horrified upon finding the truth in all its bloody glory. How, upon one’s death, a pathologist would cut you open to see what they could find. Painted pictures of the procedure followed, and Madeleine is still certain that the image of a cut open human heart is imprinted on her retinas forever.

She imagined it like this,

When they cut her open they won’t find veins, or blood, or intestines. But instead a cloud of smoke as they’ll tear her up, and inside –

dust.

And a diamond heart; at the living core of which a handful of secrets shared between children years ago were kept. And the pathologists will look at one another and ask themselves, ‘why did she walk around with a diamond heart for all those years?’ Not realising, that her diamond heart was a perfect symbol of her.

Beautiful and valuable.

And essentially useless.

The door to the bathroom bursts open, and a very aggravated eleven-year-old girl stands on the threshold. Her cheeks are flushed red, not only from a day spent playing in the sun, but from barely held-back rage.

“That hag!” she bursts out. Her curly, brown hair a mess, wearing a grass-stained dress. A big hole at the sole her left sock.

Madeleine finally steps out of the cold water, pulls on her robe and turns to Beatrix.

“Beanie darling, you know you can’t call people that. Now, what has happened?”

“She told me I’d only be fit to marry a sailor the way I look! And then she had the nerve to say that I was lacking manners! Just because I told her I’d love to marry a sailor, at least he wouldn’t be such a bore!”

The older sister tries to hold back a smile, not wanting to encourage this kind of behaviour. “Would we perhaps be talking about granny?” she inquires.

“Do we know of anyone else that fit the description absolute hag?” her little sister answers, hand on her hip, clearly still annoyed. “Also, she says I have to change for supper in the nursery, god knows why; I’m hardly trying to impress nanny, and that they are waiting for you downstairs.”

And thus, it is time to face the unavoidable and join the lion’s den. Madeleine steps into her adjoining bedroom to get dressed and Beatrix follows closely behind.

“You’ll never guess who she suggested you should marry” Beatrix continues, amusement in her voice, as she sits down at her sisters dressing table, inspecting the bottles of scent and jars of powder with a bemused look on her young face.

“Was it by any chance James Hatfield?” Madeleine answers as she steps into the blue frock Alice had laid out for her earlier.

Beatrix stares at her sister in incredulity and in a heartbroken voice she wails with disbelief in every syllable,” OH, surely not! Leine, you can’t marry him! You simply can’t!”

Benie and Lenie were the affectionate nicknames the sister had for one another. As a child Beatrix had not been able to say Madeleine, but instead only pronounced the latter part of the name and dragged the vocals out into a ‘leeniee’ every time she called out for her.

“Well, he hasn’t proposed yet, so nothing is set” Madeleine answers while avoiding her sister’s questioning eyes, inspecting her hair in the mirror instead.

“So that’s why they’ll have a ball then, I was wondering what called for such an occasion”.

“A ball?”

“Yes” Beatrix states, inspecting her own freckled, sunburned face in the mirror. “Mommy told granny that they would have one as soon as possible”.

The scream works itself larger in Madeleine’s lungs.

“Oh, well. It can’t be helped” she says and leads her sister out of the bedroom. “Now, you really do need to change, or nanny will be furious with you, and I’ll have to join them downstairs”.

The bedroom door closes behind them as they leave.

***

The late evening air is loaded with the scent of rhododendrons. In the trees the nightingales sing, and the summer air feel cool against her bare arms as she steps out into the night.

Carefully, as to not be seen from any of the windows, she makes her way across the garden. It is dark, but on her childhood paths her feet still knows where to tread. She walks past the house, the gigantic rhododendron bush, and along the pathway lined with pink geraniums, down the trail past the summerhouse by the lake and further still until she arrives at the fountain by the labyrinth. The deep green hedges are lined with powder pink hydrangeas, blue hyacinths and cardinal red peonies. In the middle of it a square with a fountain. And if you look past that, the entrance to the labyrinth itself.

If she had walked further still, away from the labyrinth, she’d come to a wide field of poppies. Had she, instead of walking north from the house, walked west she would have ended up by the sea, and the cliffs and Locksley Bay. East of the house laid the road to the village, and then the road to town. South of the manor the forest grew.

She doesn’t go through the entrance of the labyrinth but sits down by the edge of the fountain. From her pocket she picks up a package of Woodbine cigarettes, but when she goes to light it, the lighter only flickers.

“Need a light?”

She nearly falls into the fountain, taken by surprise by the familiar voice. Tom laughs and walks out of the shadows. Hands in pockets and hair a wild mess.

“Wanker!” she burst out, heart beating painfully hard in her chest.

“Now, now, where did you learn a word like that?”

He’s so smug, and it’s making her skin crawl with anger. She ignores his question and ask, “did you follow me here?”

He moves closer still, until he’s right in front of her. Then he takes out his lighter. She puts the cigarette in her mouth and he lights it for her.

“No” he answers eventually. “Was just finishing up watering the peonies.”

“You water the peonies in the middle of the night?”

He lights a cigarette for himself and blows out pearl white smoke into the summer night before he answers. “Yeah, as Mr. Higgins keeps telling me. You dig when the soil is dry, otherwise you’ll shovel mud, and you water the plants when the sun’s gone down and the soil is cool, or you’ll just end up boiling the poor things”.

She looks at him, really looks at him; while he’s busy looking up at the moon. His white cotton shirt is filled with stains of earth and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, a worn linen jacket thrown over his shoulder. Worn suspender holds up his muddy pants. His brown locks frame his face perfectly and in the moonlight his skin, tanned from working out all day, seems to almost radiate. He looks positively angelical. A sudden urge to pull her fingers through his hair overwhelms her.

She looks away.

The nightingales sing louder than ever in the silence, as do the buzzing insects. Somewhere in the far distance a fox screech.

“You know” he says, sitting down on the bench opposite the fountain, leaning back he spreads out into a relaxed position. “Whenever I hear a vixen’s cry I think about Gideon’s ghost.”

“Well, you are the inhabitant of Gideon’s cottage”.

When, or indeed why, the gardener’s cottage on Locksley Hall had been baptised Gideon’s cottage no one seemed to know. Not even Old Sailor Joe, and rumour has it he’d been guarding the boats in Locksley Bay since the first wave crashed against its shore.

But the gardener of Locksley Hall had, for as long as anyone could remember, lived in Gideon’s cottage.

As a child her older brother had frightened her with tales of Gideon’s ghost, and how he still roamed the grounds of the manor, still volatile over long forgotten quarrels. When ever she’d hear a fox’s cry at night, as they laid tucked up in their shared nursery, he’d told her it was the ghost of Gideon, seeking out small girls to take out his revenge on. She had been terrified.

When she’d told this to Tom he had lost his temper with her brother, the two had never gotten along, and he’d taken the older boy to the ground, punching him with his small fists until a furious Bertie Higgins, who’d seen the quarrel from across the yard, had pulled him off him. Madeleine knew Tom had gotten a trashing from Mr. Higgins for the attack and a stern telling off from her father.

“I love that old cottage” he says with a found smile on his face, blowing out more smoke into the air between them. “But I’m yet to see his ghost. ’s a shame really, would have asked if the legend was true about gold being buried at the cliffs of Locksley Bay”.

She smiles, and the nightingales keeps on singing. The scent of peonies and hyacinths is heavy in the air, despite the smoke.

Tom observing her with an intensity that unnerves her, so she turns away from him to look down into the fountain. Slowly she lowers her hand into the cold water and she watches as the goldfish swim around her.

“Why are you out here smoking at night?” he asks, and she turns to back to look at him, pulling her hand out of the water. He’s still observing her, and she feels almost naked under his glance, despite the silk gown she’s still wearing from dinner. It makes her nervous when he looks at her like that, because underneath their easy tones of conversation, she’s not actually sure he likes her all that much. She shivers, goosebumps all over her naked arms.

“Here” he says and throws her his jacket. She utters a thank you and pulls it on. It smells of earth and smoke, and fresh cut grass. It smells like him and her diamond heart beat harder in her chest.

“Papa doesn’t like me smoking in the house.” She answers in the end.

In fact, her father was against her smoking at all. It was a habit that had begun at Talbot Heath boarding school. Smoking with the other girls behind the gymnasium. They’d practised smoking without coughing, feeling mighty smug when they succeeded.

But smoking was, as it had been pointed out to her by her father, ‘not a dignified habit for a woman of her class to partake in’. When she’d gotten back from Canada after the war they’d have words about the subject. In the end the general agreement was that she did not smoke in the house, or amongst other people. She didn’t always follow these rules. There were days when all she did was sit in her bathroom, smoke cigarette after cigarette and read books. A part of her wanted to walk around the house and leave a trace of smoke in every room. Like a ghost, reminding them that she is still there. But a deeply rooted respect, verging on fear, of her father has always kept her from doing such a thing.

Tom hums in reply, that smug smile on his face again. “And what’s dear papa to say about this then? Hmm?” He nods at her, sitting just a meter away from him, wearing his jacket. “Princess sneaking out at night to share a smoke with the gardener?”

“Oh, do shut up”.

“You know you really have improved your vocabulary since we last spoke” he replies dryly, “must be all that reading”.

“How do you know I read so much”.

And maybe it’s a trick of the moonlight, but she swears he blushes, his cheek the colour of peonies. “I can see the light in your window from my cottage at night”.

“Oh, and you’re keeping tabs on me? How sweet!” You reply in a mocking tone, grateful that you get the chance to be smug for once.

“Well, it’s hard not to notice it” the annoyance is clear in his voice. Then he changes the subject. “What are you reading so late at night anyway?”

“At the moment, Tennyson”.

He groans, “of course you like Tennyson” he scoffs, puts out his cigarette and lights a new one, offering her one as well, which she accepts.

“What’s wrong with Tennyson?” She asks, indignant.

“Nothing I guess” he responds, “unless you’d like to read about things other than knights and fair maidens”

“He did not only write about knights and fair maidens!” She defends fiercely. “He wrote about love and loss and death and privilege and -”

“Oh, he wrote about privilege, did he! Well, you know all about that, don’t you? Little miss ivory tower”.

“And what do you read then? What is so good it makes Tennyson look foolish to you?” She tries to keep her annoyance out of her voice, but its difficult, especially when he looks at her like that. Like he finds her laughable.

“Recently? Mostly Gorky.”

“You always did prefer your literature Russian. You’re politics too if Alice is to be believed.”

He smiles, a little less condescending this time, “and you always loved your poetry, and no, she isn’t”.

“You must like some of the poets, surely?”

“I’m rather fond of Shelley, actually”

“And the sunlight clasps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what is all this sweet work worth, if thou kiss not me?” she quotes, not considering the implication of her words until they’ve already left her mouth. It had always been her favourite poem, and the words fell from her lips so effortlessly. But the intensity in his eyes as he observers her seem to change the very air around them. It is as though the whole world stills, if only for a moment. Like the nightingales and the foxes and the crickets all have heard her, and quieted down, in suspense over what’s to happen next.

He stands up and puts out his cigarette. Looking away from her he suggests, “we should head back, it’s late. I’ll walk you”. So, she puts out hers as well and follows him, and in silence they head back to the manor house, each avoiding the others eyes.

She pulls his jacket closer to her.

Then, he stops in his tracks. “Look,” he says and points up at the night sky “Andromeda burns bright tonight”.

Already as a child he’d been good at recognising the constellations. Many a night they had sneaked out and wandered off to the poppy fields where they’d laid down their heads, and he had pointed up to the sky, just as he was doing now, and taught her to read them.

“Andromeda, who was tied to the rocks, to be eaten by the sea monster Cetus?”

He nods, but doesn’t look away from the sky, “but Perseus rescued her”.

“And you criticised Tennyson for writing about knights and maidens” she teases.

He looks down at her then, a smile tugging the corners of his lips. They start walking again, his hands in his pockets, looking at the road ahead.

“So, what did your dear Tennyson write about privilege?”

“That opportunities are only given to those with riches already” she answers, and then she quotes, “every door is barr’d with gold, and opens but to golden keys.”

Tom is silence for a moment. They’re nearing the end of the road; they’re by the rhododendron bush, and they’ve reached the points were they have to walk their separate ways.

She removes his jacket and hands it to him.

“Keep it, for now. You can give it back later, you’ll freeze.”

“No” she argues. “No, Alice will see it and wonder”.

He doesn’t argue with her on that point but takes the jacket from her outstretched hand. “Well” he says, awkwardly. “See you around, Lady Madeleine”.

They part ways.

***

FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED

(A/N: I’m reposting this because the first time i posted it didn’t show up in the tags and it had like 3 notes)

Taglist: @londonmademedoit @isthataladybag @ceexreverse @daygiowvibe @averyfosterthoughts @applenter @viwihere @youcompletemess @marvelpeters @youngsenpaibaby @duskholland @vanillanestor @panicattheeverywherekid @starrycigarettes @primadonnasdream

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland headcanon #tom holland #tom holland x fem #tom holland x oc #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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aspenflower17 · 3 years

Text

Finding You (Part Fifteen of ??)

Goodness gracious, I’m back, and excited to be here. I just had the weirdest two weeks, so I apologize about not updating last week. Luckily, I just stayed home today and was able to write most of this chapter. Here is a link for anyone who’s new and wants to start over at the beginning: Part One.

A couple notes: I totally forgot I wanted to add a dream sequence to part fourteen, so I added it first thing in this update. It is a rewrite of part of Satan’s “The Search of Self” Devilgram so there might be some spoilers. I also missed you all so much! Honestly, I’ve been feeling kinda down lately and haven’t even had much motivation to play Obey Me (or do much of anything), so being able to hang out on Tumblr today and see all the posts has helped me get some of my inspiration back! I also bought a Chromebook and I'm still getting used to it. If the formatting goes weird, please let me know so I can fix it.

Tags for the beauties: @simpingforsatan @naimena @hachimochi @wrathandgreed @magi-minminxiii @rensphilia @a-dream-at-night @chloelikesobeyme @getbehindme-satan @theuglypugling @oofthelazyweeb @mammonismyfirstman

Word Count: 3293

Warnings: Possible spoilers for the first season (though I think I’ve had some before so...), spoilers for Satan’s “The Search for Self” Devilgram story (it’s not the full story and I added a lot)

Mc followed Satan to a fairly large building. Satan, still so weird to say, had asked her if she wanted to go around the Devildom with him. The letters above the door were illegible, seeing as how the Devildom had their own language and alphabet, but she instantly knew where they were when they walked in, “You took me to an art gallery?!”

“Oh, seems like I made a good choice,” Satan looked a tad shocked, but then smiled, “I like to come here to get away from stuff and clear my head.”

“So, are these like human art galleries?” Mc asked.

“I think so? Naturally, they have older, historically significant paintings, but they also exhibit pieces created by young, up-and-coming artists. And they’re always holding interesting events. It’s a lot of fun… Are you interested in art, Mc?”

“Yeah, I am,” Mc answered.

“Ah, is that so? I’ve got a feeling you and I might get along, then. I really love art.”

Mc felt her heart thill at his words. She’d been interested in the blonde fourth-born the second she’d seen him, and her interest seemed to be well founded.

Satan continued on about why he loved art, and though there was brand new art for her to look at, all she could do was hang watch Satan and hang onto his every word. He wasn’t saying anything she herself didn’t think, but just being here with him was giving her butterflies.

“... If you’re nervous about coming here alone, then say the word, and I’ll join you anytime.”

“Ah, that’s so nice of you. Now that I know this place exists, I’m definitely going to need to visit often.”

“You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?” he was watching her, eyebrow quirked, but with a soft smile.

“Of course! Not only do I have a whole new history to learn about, but there’s even new art!”

Satan chuckled, “Well, I’m glad you’re actually interested in art. It really is important not to focus only on your outward appearance like Asmo, because the person you are on the inside has a way of showing through on the outside as well.”

“I agree. Too many people’s beauty is only skin deep.”

“Exactly. Incidentally, it looks like they’re having a contemporary art exhibit here today. Shall we go check it out?”

“Definitely. I hope demon modern art is better than, “Four Blue Squares on Canvas”.”

“Wait… Really?”

“Yup. It’s a real art piece I saw in my University’s art museum.”

“So, was it really…”

“Just four blue squares on a white canvas, all equidistant from each other.”

Satan blinked a couple times, “Well, I hope ours is better too.”

They entered an exhibit space. Mc found herself a little disappointed, as she saw some of the same stange, abstract, postmodern art she would’ve seen at a human art gallery. Satan noticed the change and hurried to explain, “This is the human art wing. Many of the “lost” art pieces you’ve heard about can be found in collections here in the Devildom or in some of our galleries. This gallery is curated by Lord Diavolo, as advised by Barabatos, Lucifer and myself. Right now I believe this collection was put together by Lucifer.”

“Ah. That makes sense,” Mc stated, lips pursed as she looked around, making Satan laugh.

The duo continued through the gallery, Mc stopping every-so-often to examine a piece that caught her eye. Satan knew the artist’s name and the medium of almost every piece, though there were a few that were new to him too.

“Check out this work here. The use of color is so novel, so original. It’s very eye catching.”

Mc leaned down to read the museum label, “You know, that reddish color really reminds me of… Oh…”

“Human blood? Yeah, I thought as much. Though the smell had been dampened, probably diluted with water, it’s still unmistakable,” Satan answered absentmindedly. Finally seeing Mc’s discomfort, he quickly tried to backpedal, “I’m sorry. I forgot human noses aren’t as... sensitive as demons. This artist makes pieces that stimulate multiple senses. She’s an acquaintance of mine. This piece in particular incorporates the blood of… Seven distinct creatures, demons included.”

“Oh… Which one is the demon blood?”

“The black. If I’m not mistaken, she used her own blood for this piece,” Mc nodded, the art more macabre than she’d originally thought, “Well, there’s a lot more to see than just this. Let’s see, what’s over here in this space?” They walked through an archway into a room that held a huge installation. A lot of strange items filled the room, some on pedestals, or the ground, while others hung from near translucent strings from the ceiling. The lighting in the room was generally low, specific spotlights or illumination obviously very strategically placed. A low glow on the floor marked a pathway that allowed the viewer to wander around the room.

“Wow! Now this is very interesting,” Satan breathed, eyes glittering, “See? Check it out. At first glance it looks like a bunch of random stuff scattered all over the place, doesn’t it? But actually, every piece of rope, string and crumpled paper has been arranged very meticulously. It actually depicts a war between a dragon and an army of angels. If you want proof, look at it from the side. It looks as if the dragon is over powering the army. Buuuut,” Satan continued excitedly rushing over to the other side of the room, “When you look from this other angel here, it seems the angels have the upper hand.”

“Interesting, because, from where I’m standing, I can see Earth.”

“Wait, really?” Satan moved to where Mc was and bent down so he could view it from her height, “Would you look at that. I don’t think I ever would’ve seen that. How interesting… Very nice find,” he complimented, his smile, words and proximity making Mc’s cheeks heat up.

They spent some more time in the room, though they didn’t find any other secrets. They both vowed to come back however to search some more. They then spent more time in the gallery before Satan suggested they head out to get some refreshments at a new cafe in the Devildom.

“Thank you for that Satan,” Mc grinned, “That was some much needed mental refreshment.”

“No, thank you Mc. It can be difficult to get any of my brothers to spend time with me in a manner that I enjoy, and even harder still for them not to annoy me in the process, so I usually end up going around on my own. It was invigorating having someone with me who also appreciates art,” He grinned at her again, making her heart flutter. She could definitely get used to spending time with the Avatar of Wrath.

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

Mc blinked awake. That was the second dream she’d had that seemed more than just a dream. She could still remember the first in clear detail, though her dreams usually started fading once she woke up. The only other time she’d experienced something like this was her memory of being a Wanderer. But… This couldn’t possibly be like that. That was a memory, and these were just the result of finally being able to talk to and spend time with the demon she’d admired for so long… Right? She shook her head, the large questions the dreams brought up already giving her a headache. She grabbed her DDD blinking at the light it gave off. After her eyes adjusted she saw a new message alert. Opening it she smiled. Seems like he'd finally opened up her letter

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

“Dude, just read it.”

“Easy for you to say.”

Belphie sighed and got up, grabbing the letter off of the kitchen counter.

“What are you doing?” Satan asked.

“Well, if you’re not going to open it, I will. I can’t believe you didn’t read and respond to it that night. Honestly, you’re one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom and you can’t even-” he was cut off by Satan grabbing the letter from him, the seal already halfway broken.

“I will open it myself, thank you.”

“Then do it,” Belphie said, unaffected by Satan’s anger.

Satan narrowed his eyes, and turned back to the letter in his hands. Logically, he understood why he was nervous, and usually knowing the why behind a feeling would help him get it under control, but that had never worked with any feelings toward Mc. He had hoped this time around would be different, and he was almost more nervous than before. There seemed to be so much more riding on her returned affection than before. Cautiously, he broke the rest of the seal on the envelope, and pulled the letter out/

Dear Satan,

I would love to get coffee with you sometime! If I can be even half as engaging as last time, I’ll consider it a job well done. To help us plan that and talk more easily in the future, I included my number ;) Once you text me, I have a secret to share with you.

Satan blinked a couple times. He turned the letter over to see if she’d written anything on the back. No such luck. Was that really all she’d written?

“Forever the tease I see.”

“... Did you just read that over my shoulder?”

“Well, when you delay as much as you did, and then have that kind of reaction, who wouldn’t? Anyway, you should text her.”

“I… Yes, you’re right. I definitely should,” Satan said grabbing his DDD. He opened the messaging app, typed in her number and… just sat there.

“You good?”

“Hmmm? Oh, yeah. I’m just not sure how to start the-”

He was cut off by Belphie grabbing his DDD, typing something, and then tossing it back to him, “There you go. I’m going to go sleep now. It’s way past my bedtime.”

“Wait, what did you even-”

“Night,” Belphie called from the doorway before walking out.

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

Satan was reading when his DDD meowed that he had a message. He almost threw the book he was reading into the air as he lunged for his DDD which was on the table next to him. He didn’t even have time to be embarrassed at his over-the-top-reaction.

Satan: A secret?

Mc: Yes :D

My name is not Jane Doe, though

I’m sure you’ve already

surmised that much

Satan: I thought as much, though it really isan ingenious alias.

Mc: Thank you! I thought so too

Satan: So… Do I get to know what you’re

real name is?

Mc: Hmmm… What if I want to go get

that coffee with you before

I divulge that information?

Satan: We’ll just have to go get that coffee then.

Mc:

When?

Satan: Whenever you’d like. I am free today.

Only if you want though.

Mc: Okay! Shall we say… 16:00?

Satan: As long as there’s no last minute RAD Student Council meetings called, that should be perfect

Mc: Well, if there is, I’ll just have to come

tell everyone you already made plans.

I’ve been meaning to visit RAD anyway.

Satan:

Oh how I’d love to see Lucifer’s reaction

to that.

Mc:

Satan: Wait… Shouldn’t you be asleep right now?

It’s rather late.

Mc: I was asleep, but…

Satan: Bad dream?

Mc: No actually. Quite the opposite.

I just can’t stop thinking now.

Satan: Ah. I understand that.

Anything I can do to help?

Mc: Would you talk to me a bit longer? Maybe tell me about thelatest book you’ve been reading?

Satan: Of course.

Though he wished Mc would talk to him about what was bothering her, he figured this was probably the better option. They hadn’t met many times, and prying might upset her. So, he simply started telling her the basic plot of the new novel he’d picked up. Eventually, she stopped responding, and the messages stopped being shown as read. Satan smiled at that, texted her good night, and snuggled down into bed himself.

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

“I’m sorry!” Mc’s voice brought Satan out of the book of poetry he’d been reading, “Not only did I fall asleep while texting you last night, but then I was late today and I set the meetup time? Ugh, I feel so bad and I’m so sorry!”

“You’re alright,” Satan smiled, not wanting to acknowledge how much anxiety had been eased up by her appearing.

“I woke up late, and I dropped my DDD bad enough that we have to get a new one all together, and then Michael was asking me about native Devildom fabrics and if he should get a new outfit made in one… It’s just been a day so far.”

“Like, I said, it’s all okay. I’m sure you would’ve messaged me if you could.”

“I would’ve. I still feel bad… But thank you for being okay with it,” the look of anxiety to joy that she gave him made every second he’d spent waiting worth it.

“O-Of course,” he got out.

“So, what were you reading?”

“A collection of Arabic love poems.”

“Ah, “... When I love, / I become liquid light,” and “... If the devil was to ever see you, he’d kiss your eyes and repent,” Mc sighed, resting her chin on her hand. Then, as if remembering her current company and current residence, she shot up, “Sorry! I just really love that line.”

Satan laughed, and then said a quote of his own, “My lips and fingers were pens on her flesh. / I memorized her in every alphabet and memorized my memories until they multiplied…”

“I look at you and I dream of snow, I look at you and I await autumn…”

“My temptations in your eyes, And the cities of your grief,” Satan quoted just then realizing they were both leaning in towards each other. He leaned back a bit abruptly and cleared his throat, “Anyway, I really enjoy Adonis’ work.”

“Me too,” Mc answered, leaning back as well. Fortunately, a waiter came up to them to take their order, helping resolve the awkward air his sudden retreat had created. He tried to collect his thoughts as she ordered. He could only think of one thing to talk about though.

“So… Your name is not Jane Doe.”

“Nope.”

“So... What is it?” Didn’t they have this conversation last night?

Mc looked disappointed for a second, but then she was back to normal, “It’s Mc.”

“Really? That’s a lovely name.”

She looked up, eyes measuring him, “You think so?”

“Of course! It suits you really well,” Satan said.

“Well, there’s actually an interesting story behind that. Usually when an angel becomes an angel, they receive a new name. Back in the past, they used to allow them the choice between their new name and their old one. This resulted in too many angels remembering their human life, so they stopped allowing it. I’m the first angel in quite some time to keep the same name as I had in life.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Apparently Sim and Luke were insistent on it. Luke didn’t have a ton of clout upstairs at the time, but Sim does. I promised I wouldn’t question them too much about my human life.”

“They were huh? That’s interesting…”

“Why?”

“Oh, uhhh… Just general curiosity. I’ve been trying to pin down what kind of person Simeon is since the first exchange program,” Satan scrambled, actually managing to sound convincing.

Mc just hesitated and then nodded, not keeping eye contact with him.

“I’m sorry. I’m just nervous that I’ll make a fool of myself and ruin this time like I have the other times we’ve talked,” Satan confessed in Latin, his brain still on the last language he had been reading. Saying the things that had been bothering him started when he became more comfortable around Mc the first time around. He found saying the things on his mind out loud usually released much of his nervous energy, helped him understand what and how he was feeling without doing things to make Mc uncomfortable, even if she hadn’t understood most of what he’d said. It had become something they had shared, causing her to work hard to learn other languages so she could catch the little embarrassing things he said.

Mc gave him a look before replying, “Well, you didn’t mess up last time.”

“Well, I-” Satan cut off when his brain caught up to his mouth. She had just responded. In perfect Latin. His brain flipped back to their discussion on Arabic poetry and he realized she had been quoting that in Arabic too, “I hadn’t realized… Of course you speak other languages.”

“I have to read it in its original tongue. Translations generally don’t do the original justice,” Satan was still trying to think of an appropriate response when Mc spoke again, “Question though: Why did you say that in Arabic?”

“I… I fell into that habit awhile ago.”

“I thought a lot of demons knew different languages.”

“Well, I don’t do this around other demons. I don’t care what most of them think of me…” Satan cut off as the waiter came back with their drinks.

Mc sat in thought for a second before realization dawned on her, “Oh, was it because of…” her face fell before she could continue her thought.

“Hmmm? Did you say something?”

“No, just a stray thought that slipped out.”

“Hmmm… Well, do you want to tell me more about yourself?”

“Only if you tell me more about yourself.”

“Sounds fair to me. We can trade off asking questions.”

“Okay,” Mc seemed very excited by the prospect, and Satan found it infectious. The questions were a bit stilted at first, but they slowly fell into a comfortable space. Though the answers Mc gave, it seemed she was the same person essentially, but a lot more educated, even more opinionated, and with a different upbringing. He found the fact her personality had remained intact very interesting as well as relieving. He found the fact she was now an angel not as terrible as he thought it’d be. Sure, she spoke about saving souls and bringing people to the light, but with what she’d done for him and his brothers, it seemed a perfect fit. He’d always known she was a really good person. At times it had almost made him try to give up on their relationship, not wanting to corrupt her, but also feeling it in his very nature too. Now however, he didn’t necessarily feel that for her. She was an angel and it took a lot to corrupt an angel. He didn’t feel any animosity towards her and found her to be a lot like Simeon in her regard to demons. He found himself thanking Simeon for keeping her intact. If they couldn’t give her back to me, this is probably the next best thing.

They were both surprised when Mc’s DDD rang, a call from Luke asking if she’d be back in time for dinner. While she was on the phone, Satan received a similar call from an annoyed Beel telling him it was time to come home. Lucifer wouldn’t let him eat until he’d gotten home. They both got off the phone at the same time.

“I… actually have to go. I hadn’t realized how late it’s gotten.”

“I didn’t either. I have to go as well. There’s a hungry Avatar of Gluttony at home and a stupid Avatar of Pride that won’t let him eat until I get back.”

“Well, I really had a good time tonight. We should do this again sometime.”

“I agree,” Satan smiled, “Today was amazing.”

Mc smiled and blushed a bit, “I’ll text you later then?”

“Definitely. Bye!”

Mc waved cutely and then started running off in the direction of the castle. Satan watched her until she was out of sight, smiling softly the whole time.

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

So, yeah. Arabic love poems make me live. I apologize if the translations are weird. I literally found them on a twitter post someone had posted on Tumblr. Here’s the link: https://twitter.com/rosewatwr/status/1292487129793208320?lang=en

Can we also take a moment to talk about how absurd it is that Satan, of all people, was having trouble eating properly with a knife and fork?! Are you kidding me?

Part Sixteen

#obey me #obey me!#obey me satan #obey me! swd #obey me belphie #aspenflower17 #finding you #obey me fluff #obey me angst #obey me mc #obey me satan/mc #obey me satan x mc #obey me long fic #obey me swd #can you guys believe it's part 15?!#also #there was a part I was going to add on that was pretty angsty and Read My Heart came on shuffle when I was writing it

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #462

i am way too tired to mentally flip through lyrics to put here, rip

Who in your family has been married the longest? (and how long?) I have zero idea. When did you last travel alone? Where were you going? The last time I visited Sara in Illinois. Do you take your shoes off when you come inside? Yes. What was the first color you ever dyed your hair? I think I got purple highlights? What was the first social media site you ever used? MySpace. Do you have any exes you really regret dating? One. Of all your friends & family, who has the most nicely-decorated home? Sara's house is lovely. Have you ever been catcalled? No. Are you allergic to any dogs? I might be. Have you ever touched a plant and had hives shoot up your arm? No. Do you think dragonflies are cool? Absolutely! What’s your favorite thing to draw? Meerkats!! Did you toss your hat in the air at graduation? Not high. I wanted to keep it. Do you like fudge? I CAN FUCKING DESTROY SOME FUDGE. Are you an affectionate person? Very. Name something you have to do today: Girt and I are hangin', making fun of bad Netflix anime and going to Buffalo Wild Wings. :^) Would you ever write to a death row inmate? No. People don't get on death row for no reason. I ain't got shit to say to them. Do you reckon online friendships are real? No fucking shit. Most of my most genuine friendships began online. Do you like Slipknot? Yep. Can we talk about how fuckin BADASS Corey's new mask is btw?????????? What do you think of Gorillaz? I like "Feel Good Inc." and one other song I can't remember the name of. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? BOTH!!!!! :') What is the cutest Halloween costume for a baby to wear? GUYS I recently saw a picture of a little baby dressed up as a Little Oogie Boogie and it made my ovaries cry. Which of your friends is the tallest? Which of them is the shortest? Jesus, Girt is a giant. I don't know about my shortest... If you could re-paint your bedroom, what color would you choose? Pastel pink. :') What has been the best night of your life so far? Why? Probably something sexual so let's keep it on the down low lmfaooo Would you ever even think about taking part in a wet t-shirt contest? Uh, no. Even if I WAS confident in my body. Is you hair color the same as it was when you were a baby? No. It was dirty blonde. Have you ever been in trouble for being too loud? Ha, yeah, at school with friends. Not big trouble or anything, we were just hushed. Did you ever attend a wedding that was a complete disaster? No. What is something that you were surprised you were able to do? Hm. What is the most bullshit-sounding true fact that you know? Male cats have spiked penises lkasdjfal;kje;kjwr it's something to do with preventing other tomcats from mating with her. What Oreo flavor is your favorite? Gimme that Double Stuffed, friend. Sour gummy worms or plain gummy worms? SOUR. Ever been in a talent show? How many times? What did you do? Nope. Ever try out for the talent show and not make it? Did you cry? Nope. What’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever cried about? Y'all when I was a very little kid, during my older sister's b-day party, I sobbed because I couldn't pin the tail properly on the donkey lmaoooo How do you feel about the use of nuclear weapons? Absolutely fucking barbaric. What song has the most meaning to you? "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy Osbourne. What is your favourite dinosaur? Spinosaurus!!!! :') Have you ever made bread? No. Has anything ever fallen asleep on you? Pets, a baby I was watching after, and Jason. Ever been dominated in a game you were/are really good at? yep alskdjfla;jwej Have you ever decided to set fire to something out of anger? No. Would you rather be a house pet or a wild animal? Wild animal, I guess? Have you ever listened to a group of chanting monks? I haven't. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? Probably of Teddy. I've still yet to decide on the total design of his tribute tat I'm getting. Do you like the smell of men’s colognes better than woman’s perfumes? I think so, yeah. How mad would you be if someone copied your original work (story, poem)? I'd be pretty fuckin pissed. Have you ever blown something up in science class? Ha, no. Have you ever gotten a serious wound from shaving? Not serious, no. Have you invented anything, only to find out it actually exists? I feel like I have? Ever realize you never truly LOVED your first love? Absolutely not. I loved him. Would you want a Bachelor/Bachelorette party before you get married? Sure, sounds fun. Do you prefer pads, tampons or something else? As of very recently, I returned to using pads. I used tampons for most of my maturity, but I got annoyed with them for TMI reasons and resorted back to pads, even though I don't like them either. Have you ever dated a model? No. What is your ultimate goal in life? To die happy with my life and what I (hopefully) accomplished. What colour are the socks you’re wearing today? I’m not wearing any. Who was the last person you sent a Facebook message to and what did you say? Girt. It was something regarding how I once considered doing the suicide mission at BWW where you eat a select number of their hottest wings, but I didn't wanna die via chicken. :^) Are you tall, short or average? Would you change this? I'm average in height. I wouldn't change it, nah. Especially now that Girt and I are together the ridiculous height difference is hilarious but also cute lmao. Have you ever worked in a store while someone shoplifted there? Like, while I was there? No. Have you ever had casual sex? Nahhhh. What’s your favourite flavour of frosting? Chocolate. @_@ When you think of your childhood, are the memories mostly happy or sad? Mostly happy, I guess. What is it like being you? Is it enjoyable? It's very boring with few sources of joy. What are your thoughts on the cause of homosexuality? I would *assume* it's a genetic mutation. Reason being, having a romantic partnership without the ability to reproduce defies the motives of science. There is nothing, absolutely NOTHING, wrong with said (and hypothetical) genetic mutation, though. Mutations are just another part of science. They occur naturally. What subjects did you find most interesting in school? Least? Most interesting: literature/English (especially reading like, old mythology and epics and stuff like that), LOTS of branches of science (but primarily genetics), art, and I looooved my four semesters of German. Least: ANY and ALL math, history, economics, social studies... that kind of stuff. Which do you enjoy more–hot or cold beverages? Cold, for sure. What were some of your favorite bands from childhood? Green Day was one. Would you be more afraid of drowning or being buried alive? Buried alive, for sure. It would be much, much slower. Should you really be doing something more productive right now? Well, I SHOULD be sleeping. Today's going to be a long day, because when Girt comes over, he has a tendency to not leave until like fuckin midnight or later alksdjfl;waje Have you ever lived out of your car? No. Does your family own more than two houses? HUNNY we r poor. A relative just committed a very serious crime, do you turn them in? It depends on the exact crime, but odds are, yes. If you're endangering others, byyyyeeee. You’re in the woods, alone, at night…are you honestly not afraid? Bitch I'm terrified. I have zero survival skills. You are on life support, what would you want a loved one to do about it? For the love of god, please kill me. Your child has only a while to live, do you still enroll them in school? That would be up to them. Also, define "a while." How would you feel if you met your idol and they ended up being rude? WELP I have a tattoo in his honor so that would suck ass lmao According to the tale, was Eve wrong for eating and sharing the apple? "God was wrong for even setting up an apple tree and making up rules in the first place." <<<< There ya go. And the punishment was fucking ludicrously extreme. Are you working on any goals? Yes. I'm currently going to the gym regularly to try and better my physical health and then find a job. I know that being connected sounds odd, but trust me: I can barely carry out very simple tasks just because I have absolutely ZERO stamina to do almost anything. I need energy and endurance. I'm also working towards developing some self-love. Which parent named you? I wanna say my mom. Are you currently frustrated with someone? I mean, myself. Aforementioned self-love is hard. I'm just annoyed my head is so reluctant to accept that I'm not a piece of shit for a million reasons. Why have most of your past relationships ended? They all ended for different reasons, really. Are you having any online conversations, currently? I'm not. What’s on your mind? I'm just tired and going back to bed real soon. Have you ever had an argument with a teacher? No.

#survey #surveys #random questions

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