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dearspiritss · 9 months

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literally anything swiss x reader !!! (please)

I'm sorry this took so long, but is that another Swiss lover I see? I have just the thing for you. A taste of hurt/comfort for you my dear.

CW: descriptions of panicking, overthinking, passing out.

Reader is a ghoul because I said so ☝️

“I’ve Got You.”

You didn’t hate Swiss, you never did, but the day you were summoned and you saw that overly enthusiastic grin, you decided to avoid him like the plague. Yet, somehow, he always found his way to you. Obnoxiously breaking down those walls you oh so carefully built up, trying to get past that fiery attitude you always held. He adored the way you reacted to his antics. The way you’d growl and snarl at him until you’d just give up, giving him a harsh punch to the arm. The way your face flushed with anger and your spaded tail flicking behind you as you yell at him to “just go away”.

He wouldn’t give up. He needed to break you, to try and find the softest part of you that you’d buried away for no one to see.

And this didn’t go unnoticed by the pack, far from it, they got involved on multiple occasions. One ghoul having to hold you back from ripping his face off, another ushering Swiss away so they could calm you down. All because of a small comment on your hair that morning, how it looked nice. He was nice to you, yeah he teased you a lot, but there was never any venom behind it. You didn’t know why you got so pissed off the sudden compliments or his dopey smile. You don’t know why you reacted the way you did when he spoke to you. Maybe you really did hate him-

-or maybe you were afraid of loving him.

Ever since that thought popped up, you haven’t been able to sleep. Laying restlessly in your bed, staring up at the ceiling and pondering about the unforeseen fear. Angry and confused tears gather in your eyes, making the different colors of your room blend together. You tried your best to not let them fall, not to let your composure fall, but you failed. Over and over, giving into the overwhelming thoughts and fears at night. You were drowning, unable to breathe. Eventually you gave up, finding yelling and screaming exhausting whenever he came around to tease you. You would just stand there with a dead expression, and he noticed.

He noticed your tired eyes and the sorrowful tone in your voice when you spoke, and it worried him. Did he cause this? Something in him changed, he stopped. He stopped making sly comments and gestures, just a casual “hello” whenever he came in contact with you. This confuses you, deepening your current state. The dark circles under your eyes darkened in color and your skin was paler than usual. You’d lost your spark, and he noticed. He noticed everything. He had a suspicion that things wouldn’t end well for you if this kept on any longer, and he couldn’t have been any more right.

Practice was only getting worse, wearing you down layer by layer. One day it was especially rough, you’d barely gotten through it with a few mistakes here and there. No one noticed, no one except him. When everyone was dismissed, it was just you and him in the almost soundproof room. You were struggling to stay upright, swaying back and forth. Your restless nights and horrid habits were catching up to you at the worst possible time. He noticed. With worried eyes, he watched. He watched as you struggled to pack up your instrument and notes, the obvious tremble in your hands making it hard to do so.

“y/n, are you alright? You seem a bit… shaken up.” He asked, cautiously making his way towards you in small steps. You could only turn and nod your head, which made you dizzy. You held your head in one hand, trying to calm yourself down. “I’m fine.” He was close now, you started to panic. “Are you sure you’re fine? You don’t look fine.” Your breathing picked up and that familiar feeling of drowning came back to you. Before you could even register it, your legs gave out beneath you, but you didn’t hit the ground. Instead, a pair of warm arms wrapped around you. “You’re alright, I’ve got you.”

When did your room get so warm? The some-what familiar scent of cedar and whiskey, and maybe a hint of weed, gently washed over you. You shot up from your sleep, looking around at your surroundings. This wasn’t your room, far from it. The sound of a door opening and the light shuffle of feet caught your attention. When you looked towards the door, your frightened eyes were met with Swiss’ own wide ones. He was holding two mugs, steam flowing up and into the atmosphere of the room. He quickly shut the door and hurried to your side, sitting the mugs on his side table.

“You feeling better?” Swiss questioned, taking his place beside you on the edge of the bed. You nodded and he rubbed your head, being careful of your horns. You were sore and confused, so confused. “What happened.. The last thing I remember is being in practice.” The ghoul in front of you sighed and shifted his position. “You blacked out, luckily I was there to catch you before you hit the ground.” You looked down at your hands in your lap, giving a small “oh”. He took your hands into his, they were warm and calloused presumably from his guitar wearing them down. “Why didn’t you tell any of us you were struggling?”

You couldn’t keep back the sob that ripped its way though your throat. “I-I try so hard to be strong, I really do, but you- I-“ Is all you somehow managed between heavy sobs, and he somewhat understood. He pulled you into a tight embrace, running a soothing hand up and down your back. “You are. You’re so strong, but what’s got you breaking like this?” Swiss’ voice was right in your ear, which in turn made you sob harder. “Y-You. Satanas, it’s always been you.” His breath hitched in his throat and his hand stopped. “Oh. I’m so sorry- I’ve tried to stop teasing and bothering you. I-I knew it was me, you should leave-“

You cut him off, pulling back and furiously shaking your head. “Swiss, no- you don’t get it.“ He put both hands on your shoulders, golden eyes staring into your own. “Then help me understand. How do I help you?” Another sob came through you, this time gentler than the last. “The sly compliments and teasing- your voice, your signature grin, your eyes- I love it all, I love you. I’m so scared to love you, I’m scared to love anyone..” He put a hand on your neck and pulled you close again, his clawed finger tips tangling into your hair. There was a silence, a short one that felt like an eternity.

“I understand, and I love you too. So much. It’ll take some time, but you’ll learn to love again. I promise I’ll be here every step of the way, you’ll never be alone again.” You nodded and let yourself melt into his hold, the heavy feeling of fear disappearing. The two of you sat like this for a while, barely moving an inch. The comfortable silence was broken by the multi ghoul. “I’m gonna let go for a second, ok?” You hummed and pulled away, sleep tugging at your eyelids. Your eyes followed him as he laid back against the mount of pillows on his bed. He opened his arms and tilted his head, signaling you over.

You hesitantly accepted, situating yourself on his chest. He gently wrapped his arms around your form, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. Before you knew it, you were a puddle of ghoul in his arms, lightly purring at his heartbeat. He chuffed out a laugh, making his chest bounce slightly. “You just needed some love, sweetheart, and I’m here to give it ya’ whenever you need it.” A small smile crept onto your lips and you nodded.

The next morning, the ghouls couldn’t figure out why your behavior changed overnight. The day before you were a sack of bones, today you were beaming at anyone you came across. They weren’t complaining, though, they loved this unforeseen part of you. What made them nervous was when Swiss walked into the kitchen, going straight for you. He tapped you on the shoulder and smiled at you as you turned around to face him. A few ghouls gasped from the distant living room when he opened his arms to you, suggesting a hug, which you hesitantly, but happily, accepted.

They were confused, so confused, but happy. Happy for you, happy for Swiss, and happy that they didn’t have to deal with y’all’s shit anymore.

Again, sorry this took a bit and that it’s kinda sucky, I wrote the majority of this sleep deprived. I hope you enjoy it though <3

#swiss ghoul #multi ghoul #swiss x reader #swiss army ghoul #ghost the band #the band ghost #my brain is fed thanks anon #swiss make brain go brr #ghost band

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good-beans · 3 months

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Concept that just popped into my head: Milgram characters doing "get ready with me" videos

Aw, this was so fun!! I always love your hc style of normal au/everyone's chilling, and tried to go the same route -- it was so cute to think about :D

Haruka: Puts on his outfit for the day and explains everything in great detail. He has lots of comfortable items and fun colors. At the very end he speaks off-camera and you realize Muu was standing there cheering him on the whole time. He gets a lot of encouraging comments, and Muu and Fuuta keep an eye on the account to delete any nasty ones that may come in.

Yuno: Shows her outfit, makeup, nails, and bag she’s taking with her. She tries out a variety of styles (not just sticking to the more feminine looks we see in canon). She gives a bit of a tutorial and tips as well as showing things off. Has a main account for her daytime outfits, and a more private one for her nighttime looks. Mahiru is the only one aware of the latter account.

Fuuta: Layers. Lots of layers. There will be three sweatshirts laid out in front of him and you wonder which he’s going to choose before realizing he’s putting them all on. He focuses most on his sneakers and sportswear. He plays loud music over the videos, not knowing what to say. Has gotten into comment-section arguments over those yellow socks.

Muu: Also does a full look at her appearance: nails, accessories, etc. She mentions where you can buy everything, and it’s unclear whether she was sponsored by these brands or is just excited to talk about them. (Whether they’re actually together or not,) she’ll have Haruka on as a guest a lot to show off couple’s outfit ideas. She definitely has the biggest following, and loves recommending Haruka and the others’ accounts.

Shidou: He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but his account is getting tons of views so the others keep encouraging him to make videos. He’s just glad to be connecting with the other prisoners as they show him how to do it. He dresses in a mix of the sleek patterned shirts and dad fits, and both types of videos are equally popular.

Mahiru: None of the serious-faced flirts or little pouty faces – it’s all smiles for her. Every video is basically a full tutorial – she has captions and a voiceover giving commentary on everything. She has the next biggest following, and interacts constantly. She loves getting questions “what should I wear on an x type date?” “How do I dress to impress x type of person?” because she always comes up with the perfect outfit to help.

Kazui: A bit confused as well, though he does know a lot about style. His interro question makes it seem like he wanted kids – I think he’d really get into the account as one of those “Dad How Do I” types. He talks about matching things, clothes upkeep, shaving/hairstyling.

Amane: Also wouldn’t have made the videos without prompting from the others, but enjoys it a lot. She usually talks about practical things instead of “vain” fashion: she’s excited to show off a new raincoat, sturdy shoes, useful pockets, etc. Over time, she leans into outfits that are more cute and colorful, gaining confidence in them.

Mikoto: He started the account as something for one of his design classes, and got really into it. He likes to challenge himself with unique styles and clothing articles, making pretty much anything work. He keeps everything professional in case an employer/coworker sees, but isn’t afraid to add some flirting and flaunting in there. If he’s open about his plurality, he’ll have some special videos, “choosing an outfit for John today!”

Kotoko: Like Amane, she’s more excited about practical outfits. She’ll show off clothes that have good flexibility, places to store and conceal objects, and heavy duty materials. She’ll rate jackets, boots, and other “military-grade” things for what has worked best for her. She’s very attentive to the accounts that follow her – she does full background checks to make sure her info is being used for justice, not more crime. Mahiru convinces her to do a special where she puts all her piercings in and talks about why she chose them/what they mean.

Es: Experiments with a lot of new styles, trying to figure out what they like. They also just play music in the back, not having much to say about each outfit. They'd rather focus on their series of dressing-up-Jackalope videos, much to his dismay...

#milgram #haruka sakurai #yuno kashiki #fuuta kajiyama #muu kusunoki #shidou kirisaki #mahiru shiina #kazui mukuhara #amane momose #mikoto kayano #kotoko yuzuriha #es #jackalope #thank you so much for the ask!! i didnt mean to take so long for a cute lil post but ah well #i kept getting caught up in canon timelines and relationships and finally tried to just vibe and it worked out #i love all your cast headcanons ;-;#it was still hardest for shidou and amane... i think theyd be the least likely to start/stick with it #but itd still be fun for them if they did :3 #kazui starts slow but once he gets the hang of it i think hed be really into the whole thing #i can see es running a real cute pet account #both pet care and just cute/funny videos #fuuta thinks hes slick using a fake account to secretly follow kotoko but she knows its him...#mahiru follows everyone and leaves sweet comments on every video <3 #though in canon im picturing yuno waking up every day to torment fuuta by going 'get ready with me' and explaining how she #puts on her uniform every. single. day. despite his protests

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moonlightdreamzz · 1 year

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baby, it’s cold outside

in the midst of an intense snow storm you and sunwoo are trapped in tbz’s dorm together, giving you two nothing but time to talk about any and everything - including his feelings for you.

pairing: sunwoo x black!fem!reader

g: very fluffy!! with slight angst. and slight smut at the end. hehe.

sigh. how did you not know that it was going to snow today? specifically the winter storm you had a front-row seat to, courtesy of sunwoo’s gigantic window that allowed you the perfect view of city.

the wind is blowing hard, forcing the white flakes to move around in a hectic manner. the streets are already beginning to go from black to white, all in thirty minutes. you had so many plans tonight, for one, not being stuck sleeping on sunwoo’s couch. you were separated from your bed by miles in the double digits, yet you could still hear it calling your name in desperation.

“you know,” sunwoo interrupts your thoughts. he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since the moment he realized you wouldn’t see or feel them burning holes into you. “staring at it isn’t going to make the storm pass by any faster.” he chuckles.

you were so precious, and you weren’t even trying. you never tried. everything about you was so effortlessly beautiful. he can’t lie - he’s a little hurt that you don’t seem ecstatic about being trapped in here with him, but what could he say? you weren’t his girl; he just wanted you to be. even so, his heart can’t but feel drained in his chest—as if it was tired for beating for you.

he had learned a long time ago that he needed to embrace your relationship for what it was instead of mourning what he felt it should be. you were his best friend, and he was yours. the two of you had an uncanny amount of things in common, but even in your differences did you two manage to grow together.

it has to be freezing outside with the number of layers you have on. your outfit consists of all black, minus the fuzzy beanie you sport on your head and your signature brown uggs. your hat is a jade green, a color the two of you agreed a long time ago was yours to own forever.

"i might as well take all of this off, hm?" you chuckle in subtle disappointment. your hat goes first. you swiftly toss it to sunwoo, knowing he will catch it with ease and he does. next is your coat, followed by your hoodie that you added for extra protection, and lastly your boots.

"don't sound so excited." sunwoo can't help but mock. he takes all of your belongings to the main closet, which was to the right when you stepped into the dorm. he didn't even have to press his nose to it to smell the sweet, yet citrus scent that always lingered on your soft skin. sometimes, he truly believed that you weren't real—that you had to be an angel on a secret mission to bring comfort to others on earth. to him.

meeting you was a complete accident. a beautiful one, but an accident all the same. he had relived the day in his dreams so many times and he could never forget not even the smallest detail when telling the story to another.

it was backstage at music bank, and sunwoo was in a hurry to get back his dressing room as the boyz were up next to perform. the only problem was, he had completely forgotten how he found the bathroom, and where the bathroom was in conjunction to his dressing room. he was drinking water as he frantically ran around—receiving all kinds of odd stares from stylists and idols, but he didn't care. thinking he may have found his way, he turned the corner sharply only to bump into you. his water bottle completely tipped over; spilling all over your shirt and pants.

God had to be on his side, right? i mean, what are the chances that the first time he’s seen you in awhile due to his hectic schedule, a snowstorm says … surprise!

what are the chances of this being the one time sunwoo didn’t go to practice, meaning no one was in this dorm except you and him. the members were currently stuck at cre.ker, and he could tell they were not happy about it the way the his phone has been vibrating aggressively, non-stop since you got here.

“thank you.” you are still standing near the window, and sunwoo can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“you know you can sit right? why are you acting like this is our first time meeting? we’re best friends, big head.”

your infectious laugh begins to fill the dorm, so much so that for a second sunwoo’s forgets that it’s only the two of you in here. he can’t help but smirk at you. inside, he was smiling, but he could never do that for you. if he looked at you with the power of what he felt for you, his secret would be blown.

“sunwoo.” you’re snapping in his direction repeatedly, and now he’s embarrassed. he was always in a daze when you were around.

“you were not calling me.” he defends quickly.

“i absolutely was, big head.” you mock as you plop down on the couch, swinging both your legs over and closing your eyes. “but I’m not surprised. you never listen to me.”

you loved to offend him. “i always listen to you.” he confesses. there had to be some type of poison in the snow. his usual tough exterior was softening and you had only been here for thirty minutes. yes, your gorgeous features were enough to make any man or woman drop at first sight, but sunwoo had trained himself well. his number was rule was to never show you too much emotion—well, at the least not the kind that would lead you to believe he was in love with you.

“you tired?” he questions from his position on the floor. his legs are crossed as he holds his weight in the palm of his hands.

“more like over it.” you sigh, “but I came over here to see you. I’ve missed you. we’ve both been so busy, but i still feel like the worse friend ever.”

“you’re the farthest from a bad friend. why would you even say that?”

“what type of best friend ghosts her own?”

although you couldn’t help your coping mechanism, that didn’t mean you didn’t feel horrible about it. especially with sunwoo considering he was your ride or die. he deserved better from you.

“we all have bad days y/n. shit, bad weeks, bad months. as your best friend,” sunwoo rises off the floor to rest beside you on the cozy couch. he could see in the way you loss focus on the conversation that you were reminiscing on false memories. “it’s my job to understand you, and know that you don’t hate me or anything when you go quiet sometimes. i know that’s just how y/n is.” he hits your knee affectionately.

he looks up at you now, even though it makes him feel nauseous. you feel even worse. you hated making eye contact with others, especially him. you can’t speak. his sultry eyes have always had the ability to put you in a trance. you’re trying to find the words to respond to him, but it’s like you can’t move.

the way you always get lost in his eyes would make any one else brag, but sunwoo never allowed his ego to be too inflated by it because he knew it had nothing to do with you sharing his feelings.

“how many times have I sucked as a friend? hm?” he speaks once more.

“never.” you gasp in offense. “can you be a meany sometimes? absolutely. but sunwoo,” you grab his already sweaty hand, and he can’t help but feel itchy all over. this was another quirk of yours—your affectionate nature. he knew he would never be able to adjust to it, though. “you are always there for me. all those nights I was calling you to rant about chris…I know you were so damn tired of my ass, but you answered every-time. you can’t say the same about me.”

he was so happy listening to you talk before you mentioned your dickhead of an ex boyfriend.

he never liked bangchan. you and sunwoo had both agreed a long time ago that he had the ability to read people, and he usually wasn’t wrong, but because he loved you so much he wanted to be wrong about the guy. you looked at him with those doe googly eyes of yours. all you did was text him, stay on the phone all night with him, and all the other stuff that sunwoo wished you did with him instead.

he genuinely thought he was going mad, but he couldn’t shake the feeling. even the members thought he was crazy.

“tell me he doesn’t throw you off.”

“listen, I don’t know the guy, sunwoo.” kevin sang politely. “he seems like he could go 50/50. he’s either the best person in the world, or the worst.”

“kevin!” sunwoo yells, stopping him and jacob in their tracks.

“sunwoo!” they yell back in unison.

“50/50? this is y/n we’re talking about right now. like, our y/n? the one near and dear to our hearts? the—

“one you’re in love with?” jacob interrupts with a smirk, not able to harbor even the tiniest bit of irritation towards his member in this moment.

sunwoo is the one haulting now. “what?”

well, they were right. kind of. he came to realize his deep angst towards you and your australian lover was partly due to the fact that he was jealous and in love with you, but he still was completely right about bangchan. he was every distasteful thing sunwoo knew him to be. and he had completely shattered your heart. you—his angel’s heart.

“you aren’t talking to him again, are you?” sunwoo whispers. his right leg begins to tap in anticipation. he loves you to pieces, but you had this weird habit of giving some of the worst people second chances.

“of course not.” you laugh out loud.

phew.

“after cheating on me, and barely being remorseful, fuck him.” you raise a middle finger in the air for good measure.

“i’m just sorry you had to go through that. you didn’t deserve it. you didn’t deserve any of it. the inconsistent behavior, the ghosting and coming back, him fucking on girls that could never even compare to you. he never deserved you.”

sunwoo wants to say more. he wants to go on and on about how lame he is. but he knows you, and he knows that if you want to talk about it you will. plus, he was out of your life now. sunwoo wasn’t going to let any of his energy back in.

your heart feels comforted, yet sore from sunwoo’s caring words. he always gassed you up, on your good days and bad. if someone was going to remind you of your worth, you could count on him. but even his kind words couldn’t make you feel better about your sometimes terrible taste in lovers.

“thank you.” you mutter, breaking eye contact with him finally. “you know, the same can be said about you and yoona.”

oh, yoona. just like sunwoo never liked bangchan, you never liked her. probably because she made it clear she didn’t like you, but everyone always tried to convince you that you were just upset that you had finally been replaced. you never understood the jabs, because you and sunwoo had never dated. he never has had feelings for you.

how do you know that? was always the question. and you’d always have the same answer.

“because when sunwoo wants a girl, he gets her.

was sunwoo really good to you? yes. was he always there when you needed him? of course. but what was a true bestfriend if they did not have these characteristics? you were so thankful to sunwoo, because he’s the closest thing you’ve ever had to knowing what love should feel like. the sweet words, feeling genuinely encouraged no matter what you are about to face, the little gifts that reminded him of you.

“yoona,” he chuckles, reminiscing on how genuinely insane she was. he liked it though. maybe because his down right shameful attempts to show you how he felt about you never gained him anything, so when she was so crazy in love with him, it felt rewarding. you hated her though. shit, he did too…kind of? it was toxic as fuck.

sunwoo has a history of toxic relationships. you always tell him he deserves better. he always wanted to say you were the only better he would accept. that whether a girl was sane or insane, the toxicity would never end because he would be in a relationship while in love with another person. he wanted to emphasize the fact that it wouldn’t be fair to his lover because it could be the day of his wedding day—if you ever even uttered something along the lines of “I want to be with you”, he would run away with you without thinking twice.

but instead he always settled for a plain “mhm.”

“you remember when I was busy practicing for kingdom?” he begins, barely being able to hold in his contagious laughter.

your eyes go to the back of your head immediately as you recall the story he was about to tell. you also realize that you are still holding his hand, so you swiftly let go as you try to get comfortable on the couch. now your palms are sweating. sunwoo has the softest hands in the world. the anxiety you did not realize you had been harboring in your belly has dissolved.

sunwoo’s heart stings when you pull away, but he’s used to the feeling. “don’t roll your eyes at me.” he teases somberly. “a wise woman once told me that you have to laugh through the pain.”

“finish your story.” you roll your eyes again, but this time with that beautiful smile of yours fighting to hide.

he laughs a couple more times before finishing. “and she went through the building asking every single person, even the trainee’s where I was. so fucking embarrassing.” he face plants. maybe he can laugh so hard because she was long gone. or maybe he needed help. regardless, the story was worth telling again because even you are laughing now.

“cheers.” you announce, faking as if you have a shot glass in your hand.

“cheers, but for what?” sunwoo questions.

“to us both being best friends, and having the worst taste in lovers.”

“less talk about them, and more talk about you.”

“it shouldn’t be just about me. i mean, I am in your home.” you sing.

“well i don’t want to talk about just me.”

“so let’s talk about us.” you say, not even realizing what those words did to sunwoo. he was doing so damn good. you were attempting to hypnotize him with those beautiful features of yours. your plump lips, your beautiful melanated skin, your pretty brown eyes, your enchanting smile, and your beautiful braids that had recently got redone.

“I like your hair.” he whispers. fuck it. if you two were stuck in here all night together, he was bound to fall in love with you all over again anyways.

“do I look good, mr. armstrong?” you quote, throwing your braids over your shoulders with all the confidence in the world resting on your finger tips.

he wants to tell you that you are the most beautiful girl that he had ever seen, but once again he refrains and settles for a sly smirk instead.

“oh-“ you sit up promptly, inching your face closer to his, “I asked you a question.” you tease.

he hates how much he loves you. he hates how nervous you make him.

now there’s a silence. it’s peaceful, yet so many things can be heard. even through the storm there are cars on the road trying to get to their destination—honking and swerving along the way. he can hear the heat blowing throughout the dorm. sunwoo can also hear you breathing. he can tell you are relaxed, and yes, you are still so close to his face.

“i’m not moving away until you say yes.” you breathe right on his earlobe.

“then I guess you’ll be sitting right here all day.”

he could barely get that out without choking.

you begin to nod your head before speaking, “okay…I see how it’s gonna be tonight. you’re being tough on me, even though I drove all the way over here just to see you—keep in mind that time you spilled water all over my outfit at music bank.”

he’s smiling now. he’s fucking smiling because like he mentioned before, this was his favorite story to tell.

“it was an accident.”

“then why do you look like you’re about to bust out laughing, sunwoo.” you punch his arm lightly, like a child, and he breaks.

sunwoo always said he loves your laugh, but his was even more infectious. maybe it was because seeing him genuinely find something funny was a rare sight, or maybe…you didn’t know what that other maybe was. you knew you would do anything to see him laugh though.

“oh my God.” is all he can get out, still trying to calm down from his laughing fit.

“it was never that funny.”

“then why are you laughing too?”

good point.

“sunwoo,” you speak when you can finally catch your breath, “how am I going to sleep here? i have no bonnet, no night clothes, not a damn thing.”

“well, i may not be able to fix all of that, but I do have clothes. come on.” he gets up from the couch, placing a hand out for you to join him. in reality he just wanted an excuse to hold your hand again. it always calmed his anxiety down.

you don’t hesitate to grab it before allowing him to lead you to his room. this wasn’t your first time in here. back before you started getting booked for more make up gigs, you and sunwoo would hide from the world here quite often. you always asked him did the other members hate you.

“of course not. no one could ever hate you. it’s like, scientifically impossible.” he would always say.

sunwoo directs you to sit on his bed as he squats down to get to his drawer.

there it is again. the peaceful silence. for sunwoo, this was something that could never go unnoticed. he just wished there was a way he could get the balls to confess to you, and that although you didn’t like him now, that you would be open to letting him show you what real love feels like. he wasn’t always the most confident even though he pretended to be, but there was always a small part of him that wished you just give him a chance.

you were literally his peace. how could he ever be with someone else when they could never make him feel like this?

sunwoo grabs one of his graphic tee’s and some basketball shorts. he would’ve gave you some sweatpants, but you hated sleeping in pants especially in a warm environment.

“thank you baby boo.” you blow him a kiss before getting up to go to the bathroom to change. it doesn’t take long for you to switch clothes, and you can’t help but chuckle as you observe the messy bathroom you were in. boys.

there have been plenty of times where you sported sunwoo’s hoodies and jackets, but his entire wardrobe was a first. you walk out, all of a sudden feeling a wave of embarrassment run through you.

why were you so cute? you’re waddling back to him, his clothes doing their best to fit your body.

“cute.” sunwoo mutters. while you were in the bathroom, he was trying to figure out a way to turn his pillow case into a scarf for you. he had no idea how any of this worked, but he knew silk was important for your hair. he also knew you were gonna start crying soon when you had to mess up your freshly done hair on top of being stuck in here with him.

“thank you.” you mutter back, but you turn around as if you forgot something in the living room. you had to have ran the way you reappeared so quickly, this time with a bottle of wine in your hand.

“where did you get that from?” he scoffs. “alcoholic.”

“i prefer the term, extremely stressed.”

sunwoo attempts to stand, “let me get us some glasses or something.” but your hand sharply grabs his wrist to hault him.

“sit down. are we not best friends? we’re just gonna share it.”

this was so embarrassing. this was the closest to kissing you he would ever know, hm?

before he can blink the bottle is open and you’re downing it like you hadn’t had liquid in your body for 48 hours — nothing unusual from you. he takes the bottle from you after you chug it and does the same. he had never had this wine before, but it was good as hell. it was sweet, but citrus at the same time—wait.

“this is going to sound so weird,” he begins, “but why does this wine taste how you smell?” he chuckles.

“you’re not already drunk are you, lightweight?” you’re smiling at him again. you were always fucking smiling at him.

the night goes on, the two of you drinking more and more of the bottle until it’s empty, simply a weapon for an intruder. you had no intentions of doing this, but fuck it. you can’t lie, the room is spinning. you take a look at sunwoo who’s already looking at you.

every time you got drunk with each other and made eye contact like this, you felt it. you had always tried so damn hard to not feel like this, but how could you not? look at him.

he was so perfect. his skin always looked like it had been made love to by the sun. his teeth were perfect, his face was sculpted to perfection. he was fine as hell. you may have been able to push down everything else you felt for him, but that was something you could never deny.

but you knew him. and you had given up the dream of the two of you ever being a thing when you saw how he acted with girls he actually liked. he oozed with confidence, because just like you knew he was fine, he knew he was fine too.

did sunwoo show you how a woman should be treated? yes. but that’s what real men did. they became your examples so that you never have to be confused when you actually date. truth be told, all of his members had their moments where they did nice things for you.

now sunwoo is snapping in your face. he’s so damn drunk, and he knows it because he can’t stop giggling like a middle schooler who was sitting beside his crush for the first time.

his thoughts are running wild right now. there’s so many emotions bouncing from wall to wall inside of him that he genuinely feels like he can explode. your beauty has intensified by a thousand even though his vision was not as clear as it was before. his love for you, although he didn’t realize it was possible, has gotten even stronger in a mere thirty minutes. his length is twitching and his mouth, unbeknownst to him, was watering ever so slightly as he looks at you.

the two of you have been drunk together before, but it was always a gigantic group of people around, so what’s about to happen, could never happen.

it’s as if sunwoo no longer has control of his body. his left hand slowly creeps on your knee and he begins to rub it ever so gently. his eyes have yet to leave yours. he’s afraid he’ll blind you with how intense he’s glaring into you, but he can’t look away. he feels like he can see through you.

you can’t stop him. truthfully, him caressing your knee was nothing abnormal, but this time it feels…different. and the way he’s looking at you—you can’t help but squeeze your legs together. you don’t know what else to even do in this moment.

now sunwoo is moving closer to you. he expects you to start moving back, and it was at that moment he was going to excuse himself, but you don’t move. your breathing that was previously relaxed is now unsteady, and he swears he can hear how loud and hard your heart is beating.

“babygirl.”

he presses his plump lips to yours, and it’s as if time stops.

you know how they say when you have a near death experience, your life flashes before your eyes? well, that’s what the two of you were experiencing right now. this was the death of your friendship, now being reborn into something even deeper, although the two of you weren’t sure what that meant.

it’s like a projector is replaying every moment the two of you have ever had for the both of you to see. his lips are still connected to yours—your eyes seemingly wired shut as you’re forced to watch the movie that was your life.

sunwoo sees music bank, he sees himself frantically apologizing until he looks up, wondering what a beautiful girl like you was doing back here around all of these judgmental people. he sees the first time the two of you ever hung out. tbz had thrown a party at their dorm, and through text you had told him you didn’t have any friends and he was determined to change that. even so, the two of you decided to stay in sunwoo’s room, refusing to be rowdy like everybody else. you talked for hours about everything and nothing at the same time. that was the first time sunwoo realized he was falling in love with you.

you see every single time sunwoo has been there for you—no matter the time, place, or reason. how, even when you made the poorest of decisions, he rode for you. you see every kiss to the side of your head, every gift, every hug. most importantly, you unlock a feeling that you had been keeping hidden for an incredible long time; the fact that you wanted him to be more than a friend to you. you had no idea why you never allowed the feelings to be freed. maybe you were scared. you damn sure didn’t think you were good enough. but sunwoo is kissing you right now. and through his lips can you feel every single emotion he has been hiding from you as well.

it’s as if someone smacked sunwoo on the back of his neck. he pulls away quickly, his eyes widening in horror, but then his brain reminds him that he’s not sober, and it’s now or never.

“y/n,” he begins, cupping your fluffy cheeks that he loves so much. his tan skin always looked so pretty against your choco colored. “i’m—i’m so drunk right now.” he chuckles sadly, “like genuinely I’m such a fucking mess, but that kiss…that wasn’t because I’m drunk. well, it was, but these feelings are real. they’re so fucking real and I’m sorry that I’m doing this, but I’m so in love with you. and please don’t think that I realized this over the course of a night. for the past two years that I have known you have I been allowed the pleasure to grow in love with you. more and more everyday.”

sunwoo is crying now, which is something you had never seen him do. you place your hands in his wrists as they continue to hold your face—rubbing gentle circles into them.

has sunwoo really felt like this all along? have you really been wasting your time dating shitty people, when the man of your dreams has been sitting here for two years wanting to be with you all the same?

“sunwoo i—“

“just let me finish,” he wipes the tears that feel like they will never stop falling before continuing his drunken rant, “i know you don’t feel the same. you don’t have to tell me. and I know I probably ruined every bit of friendship we have built all this time, but I think I’m at my breaking point y/n. it’s so hard, holding all of this inside of me.”

you want to let him finish, but you can’t. you want to feel what he just made you feel by pressing his lips to yours again. everything happens so fast. your lips connect to his in a passionate romance, and he haults for a second before returning the fire you were putting on his lips. both of your clothes are coming off too quickly to remember where you guys are throwing them. you’re grinding on his length, moaning loudly at how big he is. sunwoo is whimpering and the tears are still flowing because, this can’t be real. you feel so fucking good on him as you grind your panty covered pussy on his dick.

as drunk as the both of you are, you’ll never forget this. the both of you fall back on the bed, and like a movie, the scene blurs out.

sunwoo makes love to you that night. he makes love to you over and over again. if there was anybody even remotely close to this dorm, they heard it, but he doesn’t care. he wanted everyone to hear him moaning out your name because you are so fucking beautiful and you make love to him so good. and he wanted them all to wallow at the fact that he was the one making you feel this damn good.

scream my name, babygirl. he remembers saying passionately to you in every position. the both of you hear it in your dreams too. you see it all in your dreams. his confession of how patiently he had been waiting to make love to you like this. how gorgeous your body was even with every mark you have on your body. your beautiful hyperpigmentation that you have always been insecure about.

how in love he is with you.

you begin to feel your five senses again; you can feel the sun, although she’s not warming you up any due to the cold weather that’s still prominent, your eyes are starting to gain vision again, and you stretch your entire body feeling pleased with all the cracks you hear. you feel sunwoo’s arms around you, which causes your heart to stop beating for a mere second before your body forces your entire body to start sweating.

he looks so at peace as he sleeps. his arms are wrapped tightly around your waist as his leg is placed right under your womanhood. yours is wrapped around his waist. you remove the cover ever so slightly to take a look at him in all his glory. he was so beautiful. his body was beautiful, and you no longer had to imagine what it would look like in a moment like this.

sunwoo begins to wake up too. it’s almost as if he’s still drunk with how at ease he currently feels. he can smell you before his eyes even open. the smell of love still lingers in the room. before opening his eyes, he can’t help but to pepper kisses all over your face, neck, and chest.

now his eyes are open and enchanted by yours like they always are, but this time it feels different. it is different. sunwoo doesn’t know what to expect. he doesn’t know if you’re going to say you regret it. he’s honestly petrified right now.

but then you do it—you smile. that heart warming smile that always made him melt is resting on your face, and he knows.

you don’t regret it at all.

“what do we do now?” you whisper so innocently. the sun is assisting with your natural glow. your voice is raspy, but it’s music to his ears. your bare body is really here for him to respect, worship, and love. it’s right here in front of him.

“i meant it, y/n. everything I said.” he presses his forehead to yours.

“i know. me too. even though I didn’t say much.” you chuckle, moving to put your head in his chest. you didn’t even care about the fact that you slept with no scarf last night. this moment overthrew that.

“i love you.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of your head as he always does. “and I wanna show you that I’m all you need.”

“i love you too, sunwoo.” you beam, “and I want you to show me.”

this moment—it’s so sweet, and gentle. just like you. the entire room is at ease. birds are singing outside and sunwoo has no idea whether it’s still snowing outside or not.

a knock on the door interrupts the beautiful moment.

“so um, I let you guys have your moment and all because whoop whoop! so happy that the two of you realized you are madly in love with eachother, but can the two of you please put some clothes on so I can come in my room?” kevin sings behind the door.

fuck! the two of you both say in unison before laughing uncontrollably. you and sunwoo get out of bed to put your clothes back on, but still don’t take your eyes off eachother. you can’t.

all sunwoo could do now was thank the heavens, for they allowed this snow storm to blow the two of you in each-others arms.

authors note!! i really hope you guys loved this. sunwoo…that’s my man my man my man! im so in love with him I had to get it out haha. kisses love you all hope you’re having a good ass day. stay beautiful.

#sunwoo fluff #sunwoo imagines #kpop x black reader #tbz imagines #the boyz x black reader #sunwoo #tbz scenarios #kpop x poc #kpop imagines #sunwoo smut #Kim sunwoo #tbz #the boyz

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nordickies · 1 year

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Clothing style swap? 👀 your pick for who with who

This would be such a cute idea to do!... if I had specific outfits for the Nordics. They all dress up in modern attire, mostly in dark and muted colors. But I think Finland and Sweden would have the biggest style difference, for sure.

Also totally unrelated but oh god, I didn't consider the legit height difference between these two until now-

I think Sweden is the most stylish of the group, definitely having an inherent sense of style. He buys high-quality pieces, especially from local brands, and he's very trendy. Everything is very minimalistic and monochrome with a clean design; no crazy patterns. I think Swe is very environmentally conscious these days, so he has a small, versatile, and timeless wardrobe. He dressed up in longer coats, well-fitted pants, and jeans. A classic button-up and a high-quality sweater always work! He's practical with his clothes, and dresses according to weather, but he still wants to make sure the outfit looks good.

Finland on the other hand has no sense of fashion. He doesn't understand trends. He wears graphic t-shirts and hoodies, which are usually too oversized for him. And he likes wearing practical clothes like hiking pants; They're just comfortable to use and perfect for various activities. His closet is just full of functional winter and sports gear. Also, he might dress up in bolder colors or patterns than the rest of the Nordics. All kind of formal wear is just uncomfortable for him, and he fears overdressing for occasions as he wants as little attention to himself as possible.

Norway dresses up for comfort first and foremost. And he avoids color, practically everything besides his folk clothes is black or dark grey. He finds that it's more important to be comfy and practical, so he might dress up very informally in work settings too. It's not unheard of for him to show up in meetings in a regular sweater. This man has a collection of windbreakers, raincoats, quality winter jackets, beanies, and functional shoes. But if he feels particularly stylish, he might throw on a leather jacket. But that's for summertime only and if the weather forecast is clear.

Denmark praises athleisure. He's always going everywhere with a bike anyway, so loose and non-restricting clothes (that are well-fitted) are the key. He wears a lot of layers and always remembers to bring something rainproof. And sneakers, always wearing white dad sneakers. He's quite stylish, even though he doesn't consciously try to be. Also, don't tell Sweden, but Denmark might have stolen one or two clothing pieces from him that he found particularly nice.

Iceland dresses up for practicality. In his words, there is no bad weather, just bad clothes. It's better to bring too much clothing than too little, and you might catch him with a Parka-jacket well into the summer season. Back home, he's not too concerned with his style, but if he's visiting some other place or having guests over, he suddenly gets very conscious of what he'll wear. He fears that he dresses up too "old" at times, but instead, he gets a lot of praise for his clothes. He's probably so late on trends, that his clothes end up becoming fashionably vintage. Sweaters are his favourite, with a nice quality pair of pants and hiking boots, what else do you need?

#hws finland #hws sweden #my art #headcanons

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pistolpackinpops · 3 months

Text

Ring, Ring!

A Harrysport-esque grooming-as-a-social-activity fic.

And a phone-head study.

Here you are again. Out of the cool nothingness of stasis and back into the maelstrom of a Fazbender diner, complete with a fine mist of blood, mucus, and expired pizza glomming to your exterior as soon as you step inside. You didn't miss it. Well, you didn't hate it, either. Hard to hate what you got quite good at. And, well.

Managing the pizza joint on the ground usually means you're arbiting fewer lives. Afton Robotics, being the keel of the whole operation, meant you were overseeing or making life-altering decisions daily, most of which is crystal clear in your mind despite the thirty, forty years. You’re relieved to be free of the burden (that of which you will never forget) and reactivated. Managing a pizzeria is as easy as breathing. It’s comfortable in the way wearing full battle rattle is comfortable, in that it is heavy, and choking, and turns you numb, but you’re alive.

Alive, and covered in soda. It’s been a very, very long time since you were last covered in soda. It dries rapidly against your shell and happily congeals to the contours there, in the seams of your rotary dial and the holster of your hand receiver. Preliminary sensors tell you none of it seeped into your interior.

But your stomach turns all the same. You are a rust hazard.

With practiced ease you reach into one of the desk's larger drawers. Instead of paperwork or office supplies, you are greeted by folded up rags, spray bottles, brushes, and a mirror. You withdraw each one with careful, deft hands; you use the butt of the water bottle to push everything out of the way. The mirror bumps up against the edge of the monitor console. You glance over the grainy footage, letting instinct guide your hands.

The mascot employee has taken the dining area well in hand. Your boss– Mr. Kennedy– is hurrying down the corridor.

You use the mirror to guide your cleaning. Liquid onto a rag, which you ball up and run across the sticky layer of soda, letting the solution soften it. Music thrums through the wall as one of the monitors becomes awash in color. A concert of some kind.

(You should really be overseeing operations. You've been through so much worse. Why are your hands shaking?)

(Reactivation is a blessing. You don't want to die here.)

Who said anything about dying?

Cleaning fluid starts to run down your front. Yeah, maybe you used too much. It's not like you can FEEL the soda sticking to you. It didn't even penetrate. The door jostles behind you.

“Heyyy, employee! I saw what happened earlier, are you…?”

It is Fazbender conduct to refer to subordinates as exclusively ‘employees’. Your boss always says it with a stutter, a nervous gleam in his eye, like he's doing something wrong. You always notice it, like now, but never know what to do with it. He has no reason to be nervous.

He's not the one slacking off.

Slowly, you remove the rag from your faceplate. Most of the soda has been lifted. The rubber lining you installed shines wetly in the gaps of your panels.

Your boss sidles up to your side, orange hands hovering.

“D'you want any help with that..? I'm surprised none of it got on your suit, honestly. Hey, I can put the soda machine out of order so it doesn't happen again!” Your boss says, voice ramping up with excitement. “Or I can, uhhh-”

For the love of Foxy, you need to find your voice.

“Sir,” you say stiltedly. “Are you worried about me?”

Not. Not what you remotely meant to say.

“Of course I’m worried about you, employee,” he says.

Your boss stands uncomfortably close. Parts of him shine back at you in your little mirror. The lower half of his face. His neck. Scarred in familiar ways, like a reflection of your own skin. The teeth marks of springlocks.

Tremulously, you switch the damp cloth for a dry one. His great big orange hand encircles your wrist. His eyes– black glowing pits– bear into your rotary dial.

“Sir,” you growl. “I can handle it.”

“Walter has the fort for a minute. Come on, Harry. This is the least I can do,” Mr. Kennedy urges. “You're falling apart.”

The small fans built into your head kick on. (Gotta cool the modicum of circuitry feeding off your spinal cord, after all). Your skin from the shoulders down turns clammy. You really, truly are not handling yourself well. Rebecca had warned you that there would be– an adjustment period. But fumbling this hard after doing so well? Losing your composure so thoroughly even your boss- whose behavior is conflicting with your programmed protocols– notices? Hearing your maybe-alive-name from a Stranger?

Unforgivable.

You try to tug out of his grip. His fingers tighten. You’d look, but your optical array doesn’t point down in that particular angle.

“You can– clean the receiver. Watch the speakers. What do you mean, the least you can do?” You say, deciding to acquiesce.

Mr. Kennedy breaks out into a smile, showing off his missing teeth. He frees your wrist, but his palm glides across yours until the rag is firmly in his grasp. Not yours.

“I left you hanging all month.”

“You're the owner. You have your own affairs, such as… dragging in lawsuit-generating robots and gremlins. It is nothing short of a miracle we've gotten this far at all, you know. Your eye for restaurant cohesion is awful,” you say in a rush.

Mr. Kennedy laughs. It should be a deeper, richer sound than it is, considering his stature. The faux nose crammed inside your head picks up the faint waft of rot as he suddenly leans into your space, one hand rising to grip the foot of your shell. He uses the other to mop up your base panel where fluid has been collecting.

It is extremely forward. It is also strange to be on the receiving end of this kind of attention. Even at the height of Freddy's empire, you were held apart, distanced from Phone-men social rituals. Rebecca had changed this somewhat, but the novelty…

“Sure, so let me make it up to you. You've been doing great work. I appreciate it,” Mr. Kennedy says, steady as ever.

He avoids your rotary dial while carefully wiping away the tracks of soda. You stare up at him, hoping he does not pick up on the faint stream of noise eschewing from your sound system. Such high praise, and for what?

“You called me Harry,” you state inanely. “Why?”

Here, Mr. Kennedy falters. His easy-going grin shrinks and the corners of his eyes crinkle, demeanor momentarily dimmed. He visibly mulls something over, tongue poking out between his bright orange lips.

You fold your mirror down and swivel the chair to face him directly. He shrinks back slightly.

“I talked to uh, Scottie. Rebecca,” he confesses. “She told me some things.”

“I see.”

And you do. It makes sense. Rebecca probably divulged the information out of a wicked sense of duty. Phone-heads stick together and this tangerine man isn’t overtly dangerous. Wordlessly, you pluck one of the long-handled brushes into your fingers and offer it to Mr. Kennedy. It has a curved end and a soft cloth-like topper. Good for following the contours of your shell and less irritating than a bristle brush. You’re not sure how much instruction to give your boss. On one hand, he is your superior. On the other…

He’s no Scott.

But he isn’t human, either, so maybe it cancels out.

“One of us should really be back on the floor,” you say suddenly. “Truly, sir, this is as spick and span as it gets for me on a Friday.”

The fuss is unnecessary. Your composure is starting to return to you like a tide coming back to shore. You can deal with your sugar-crusted receiver. You can handle the cacophony of children, parents, and barking doggos. The worst of it has passed.

Mr. Kennedy grips the corner of your head and starts lightly tracing your panel gaps with the brush.

“Sir, use a bit more force!” You warble out, modem feedback leaching into your output.

“I don’t want to poke your brains out!” Mr. Kennedy sputters. “Jesus. Hey, does this, uhhh-”

He drags the tool clumsily through, but there’s firm contact between the cloth, plastic, and rubber, so your sensors stop freaking out. Still, the entire lower half of your body is breaking out into gooseflesh, too aware of his proximity.

You remember, suddenly and vividly, your boss going for his zipper at the slightest provocation.

“Do not finish that sentence,” you hiss. “You can’t– don’t worry about that.”

He laughs, a low, deep bark of surprise. Then he tilts your head up, letting the light shine directly into your optics, his own eyes screwing up in concentration. Desperately, you wonder how well he can actually see with eyes that don’t appear to actually exist.

“I think I got it all,” Mr. Kennedy says. “Now, that handset of yours… Can I touch it?”

He did “get it all.” And the effect has been nothing but calming. You aren’t so dense as to not know why. Fear does funny things. Elevated emotions get lost in translation with your current configuration. Higher-ups do not usually– do whatever this is. It can’t hurt to let him finish the job, you suppose. After all, it was your original condition.

“Do you have to say it like that, sir? Here,” you say, handing him the piece.

A part of you braces for him to grab at your rotary. That is the normal sequence of events. But he doesn’t. Your handset lays limp in the palm of his hand, the black coil shining starkly against the hue of his skin. If he listens closely, he’ll be able to hear the faintest sounds of your breathing.

“So, like, how do you receive calls? Do you have to be hooked into the wall?”

“No. We’re not equipped to handle the signals coming from a direct POTS line. It’s wireless.”

It’s not something you’ve ever had to explain before. Most people never cared, or gave it much thought, and you always took your calls in private. Not all Scotts did that, of course. You’ve been told you’re more reticent than you maybe should be.

“Really? That’s pretty modern, isn’t it?” Mr. Kennedy prompts, eyebrows lifting high, even as he’s otherwise occupied.

He is quite deft with his fingers when he wants to be, apparently. He’s scrubbing at a stuck piece of residue in the curvature of your receiver. You didn’t realize he’d gotten so far in– cleaning.

“Afton Robotics is– was– quite the… establishment,” you say flatly.

“That it is,” he sighs. “That it was. There! All clean.”

Something in Mr. Kennedy’s face shifts and you unknowingly brace yourself for impact. He smashes your handset back into place with the same fervor of a slam dunk, irises blazing in their sockets. You grab the sides of your shell, unable to muffle the cacophony of ringing and shrieking filtering from your speaker.

“Why the h-heck did you do that?!” You cry out. The base of your neck smarts from the force.

To his credit, Mr. Kennedy quickly seems to gather himself, looking down on you with abject horror. Like he hadn’t meant to do that to you at all–

“I’m so, so, sorry– I was just thinking how much I’ve always wanted to do it, and then I did, I forgot– did that hurt?” Mr. Kennedy stammers.

“No- no worse than a Foxy bite!” You choke out, deciding to eke out a shaky thumbs up. “Just… don’t do that again. Please. Sir.”

Dully, you realize you’re still ringing. You cut the noise quickly and, as smooth as you can, rise to your feet. Briefly, you reach around for your cane, but you must have left it in the dining area after the– initial incident.

Right.

“I… Thank you for the help, sir,” you say, drawing yourself to full height. “I truly do not deserve it. Now, I really should be going back out there. See you on the Flipside!”

“...Of course, employee. Anytime–”

But you’re ducking out of the door before Mr. Kennedy can finish. You ignore his silent pleading look and refuse to check if he’s following you back out or not.

#harrysport #dsaf #dsaf harry #jack kennedy #dsaf old sport #beige writes #ill crosspost to my actual blog and ao3 soon

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marzipanandminutiae · 2 years

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In yesterday’s Dracula Daily update, Mina mentions she is “only taking one change of dress”. 1) Was this a common occurrence for short trips or because of the circumstances? 2) Would both dresses be ‘traveling dresses’? 3) I’m assuming one dress means the top-most layer & she packed multiple chemises, etc. Could other undergarments (i.e. petticoats) be re-worn between washes? 4) Would she have been able to launder her clothing while travelling? Thank you.

Good questions!

While I'm not 100% sure, I believe her mentioning that she's only taking one change of dress is because that's such an unusual thing to do. To my eyes, it highlights how quick and desperate her flight to Jonathan is: she's dropping everything and preparing only the bare minimum so she can get to him as quickly as possible. I believe it would have been more common, for a trip all the way to Hungary, to bring the full trunk she's opting to have Lucy keep in readiness for her instead.

Given Mina's practical nature I'm going to assume they're both travelling dresses, but I suspect that could vary from person to person in similar circumstances. Eg she might pack two travelling dresses- hard-wearing materials, colors unlikely to show the soot and dirt of rail travel, skirts that clear the ground, etc. -but another woman might have chosen one travelling dress and one fancier dress. That seems like a more individual question to me.

She would almost certainly pack multiple chemises or pairs of combinations, yes. Anything that didn't touch the skin directly could definitely be re-worn between washes, unless it got particularly dirty (and even then, sponging the hems of one's petticoats and even outer skirts was a common way to remove dirt without a full wash).

As for laundry, Mina likely didn't do it herself even at home- it was quite common to send your clothes out to a laundress, even for middle-class families and individuals. As you can see in Bernadette Banner's recent video, laundry was a strenuous multi-day undertaking back then, which is why people could make decent money doing it as a full-time job. Anyone who could remotely afford to outsource it, did. I haven't done deep research on this, but it's my impression that most hotels of the caliber Mina's likely to be staying at would employ a laundress (or multiple) on their staff to wash guests' clothes.

#ask #anon #history #1890s #dracula daily #dress history #social history #I'm always slightly baffled by pop history sources that insist everyone did their own laundry and made all their own clothes #in the 19th century #like. if that's true then why were Seamstress and Laundress/Washerwoman viable occupations?#what do you think they were sewing and laundering?#the 1% are by definition a small category of society so there couldn't be enough business from them alone #to support entire thriving trades around making and washing clothes #that's not to say NOBODY did it themselves. of course people did #but like. clearly not everyone who wasn't rich

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mxiaogod · 2 years

Text

— 07. [INQUIETUS] G!P AYAKA X FEM! AFAB READER

Warnings : Mild exhibitionism, immediate closeness, breeding, girl penis, virgin reader, NSFW (DNI IF YOU AREN'T 18+)

— Winter choked the land as a pale, winter’s moon hung in the sky, an icy serenade, a coolness to bring out the warmth within.

Ayaka jerks up, her body drenched in sweat as her yukata falls down her shoulders, her body glistening with thick layers of sweat as goosebumps rise. Her chest heaves up and down; she had dreamed of you again, the fuzzy haze of your form, the proximity of your warmth, and the distilled clarity of your features invading their way into her consciousness; it had been far too long since you had entered her dreams, and then everything was suddenly about you.

The great lady of the Kamisato clan obsessed about some woman who continually comes in her dreams, a big painting of your face clothed in traditional garb and clattered with expensive accessories placed within the walls of the estate, certainly a sight to behold.

This long running issue had been constantly whispered among inazuman citizens, the reason why Kamisato Ayaka's status was unwedded is because she was waiting for a non existent woman, while some protrudes the lady as delusional or seemingly insane, some people believes that what Ayaka has is a gift, the ability to foresee the future lady of the clan, Although majority of Inazuma's population disagrees that Ayaka was "bound" to wed a woman, some thinks it's for the better, saying "Though Miss Ayaka is the eldest daughter of the Kamisato clan, she is very attentive to everyone's needs. She will personally take care of the most troublesome matters. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe that there are noble ladies like her! Therefore I have no problem of her marrying anyone." nonetheless, Ayaka was sure to wait for the woman of her dreams.

The lady rises from her futon, her sheets wet in perspiration as she changes into a tunic, grabbing a jug of water to drink down, she was growing agitated, Ayaka was craving for the woman who visits her dreams. The memories of her as a youngling, joking around the periphery of the estate overseen by her maidens, young Ayaka wouldn't usually do this, but she feels that she should at least have some fun instead of practicing calligraphy, or anything having to do with being the perfect princess she was depicted to be. Climbing up a tree all because the color of the Amakuno fruit was beguiling, her little hands grabbed for the fruit, she looked down and one of her maidens was attempting to seize her, "My lady! get down from the tree, I don't want her Grace on my trail, listen to me-" The distressed maiden yelled, her words stopped short by the snapping of the tree limb Ayaka was stepping on.

Ayaka opened her eyes to be greeted by the young you, sitting beside a stream with koi fish swimming around the green water, "My dame, are you alright?" The gentleness of your voice gave her solace, this confused the woman as her not knowing you, nothing hurt her whenever she was with you, the pain from her fall dissipating as you urged her to come close, your warmth enveloping her stature as you wrap your arms around her. She inhales and exhales, shutting her eyes with the stillness of nature, and suddenly the time ran longer and longer, till you grew up together within her head, her fantasies.

Ayaka took her sword, ready to protect herself at all times, and softly slid the Soji door open, exiting the estate as she marveled at the greens outside. As night fell, the blue and blue sky was speckled with numerous little stars. One by one, as though inviting visitors to the wide space. In the vast blue sea, the chaste moon floats like a silvery boat. She knew she wasn't allowed to be out late at night by herself, but her tolerance was wearing thin, and she could only take so much.

She wanders through the forest, her palm feeling the roughness of the damp grass, she inhales, the scents of wildflowers and earthy fragrances giving her a fraction of tranquility, oh how she was restless, where were you? What universe does she have to flip over in order to find you? Having to organize search parties, or tour the world, or suspend her duties, all because she hoped to see you someplace, simply enjoying a regular life while she suffered through depravity.

"Archons, please help me," she said under her breath. She raised her brows as she heard a shuffling, her fists tightening around her sword, "Whoever you are, expose yourself immediately, I won't be waiting." she orders, afraid, she was beginning to think coming outside for a breath of fresh air was a poor idea, especially for the lady like herself.

As she was forced to drop the blade, the sensation of stinging needles invaded her hands, her eyes becoming cloudy from, tears? Her legs weakened, driving her into a kneeling posture, the sensation of earth and rocks cutting into her knees as her shoulders slumped down, her neck twisted from straining to gaze up,

There you were, in all your splendor, your breath-taking face within her vision, dressed in a cotton white gown, a scarf wrapped around your head as you dropped the basket that was hanging from your elbow, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you eyed the woman in front of you, she looked of high status, you quickly did a curt, heavily setting an awkward aura around the both of you, "Uh- My lady, are you alright? Are you lost?-" You were interrupted as the lady glanced ahead, "Do you have any idea? How long, how long I've been looking for you? At the moment, there's nothing I want to do more than take you," she cried, surprising you. You were perplexed, archons, the situations you find yourself in.

"I apologize my lady, I don't think I understand what you mean, are you alright? please stand up, your knees are going to bruise if you keep kneeling down, A princess like you shouldn't get scars anywhere! it must be nice living such lavish life, huh?" You rambled, kneeling down, grabbing your basket as you gathered your things, a sudden force on your body toppling you down the bed of the forest, the woman was on top of you, her arms wrapped around your neck as she sobbed. "Are you truly fine? I won't know what's wrong with you if you don't talk."

"Are you always this friendly? you must get yourself in trouble all the time." She chuckled through her sobs, her arms tightening around you, what a peculiar woman you thought, you let her indulge herself, she was probably just feeling lonely, you hug her back, the same intensity as hers, you feel her shoulder shake even more, you untangle your arms from her body, thinking it was your hug that upset her.

She uses her hands to hold her body up, and there, you scan her face, she is unbelievably charming.

Her fair smooth skin, pointed nose and mauve doe eyes, lips tightly pursed together, cupid's bow so prominent you almost want to kiss it-

You thoughts were interrupted as her neck craned down, your lips clashing together, you felt a sudden surge of connectivity as you both hug each other tighly, "My name is Kamisato ayaka, you call me My dame, in my dreams, you were always there, even when I was a mere child, you were there, you grew up with me, I was determined to find you, I know you're bound to be my wife, a blessing from the Archons, the lady of the Kamisato Clan." She says as your face was painted with shock, "The Kamisato clan? I've heard, but I'm not from here My lady-"

"Ayaka, call me Ayaka." Her eyes pleading as you nod, you can feel her eagerness, an odd passion mixed with longing, you were perplexed more than ever, you were in her dreams?

"Ayaka, can we calm down, can you explain everything? I'm open to listen all night, just please explain." You beg as she gets off you, she starts by the beginning, and then slowly dragging on to the parts that you struggled to listen to, you never knew a person could be this, determined? Especially for a mere commoner like you, you explained, you explained to her how you're a nobody, that you are not fit to be a lady, hell, not even a maiden, that you're trying to run away from people who merely want to use you for your body, that you wonder the forest day and night because you had no home, you opened your basket, showing her that it contained a blanket, and some fruits you weren't certain if edible, you tell her everything, your life story, where you came from, you were hesitant at first, not having done this in a long time, you rarely talk to people other than yourself, not until she held your hand, assuring you that your safe, and you were fine.

"I don't care, please, as long as I have you with me, you're safe, I will put a roof over your head, feed you, care for you, even dedicate every penny I have for your needs, I don't mind, please just- just don't leave me please-" She pauses as you hold her hand, the unknown swirling in that captivating eyes of hers.

Suddenly, she pounces on you, your back hitting the blanket you had laid out for the both of you, she kissed your lips filled with longing, feverously, with need, she bit your bottom lip and dragged it out with her teeth, you never knew it could feel this good.

The beautiful stars that shine in the sky, although not as brilliant as the sun, are not as clear as the moon, but they sprinkle the dreamy light into the world, turning the earth into a strange world, inducing people to explore the starry sky.

She trails kisses from your lips, down to your jaw, taking her time to savor the taste of your intoxicating skin, she inhaled your flowery scent, you liked picking flowers and grinding them together, dabbing some on your body, you maintained your hygiene, frequently washing your clothes in the streams as you take a dip.

She expertly works her lips to find your sensitive spot, she kisses just right under the spot below your ears as you let out a moan, you cover your mouth, embarrassed by the lewd sound you just let out, she breaths against your neck, making you release a pant, "Don't hide from me, I want to hear everything I'm doing to you, My dame." You heart throbs at the endearment, your cheeks feels hot, laced with a deep maroon, making Ayaka groan as she continue her attacks on you, painting your neck with love bites and marks, you were already smitten with her.

You feel your heat throb, as something lengthy and hard grind against your core, your eyes widen and as you were about to speak, "I- I'm sorry I didn't think it'd frighten you, we can stop-" She babbles, her jaw clenched as she looked away, you grab her face, staring in her eyes, your eyes tell her everything.

She pushes you back down, looking on your eyes for a silent permission as you eagerly nod, giving her the go ahead.

A dark expression painted her face as lust swirled in her eyes, she ripped opened your dress, you gasp as you only had a few to change in, " I'll buy you more." She explained shortly, kissing down your navel as her thumb swirls your overly sensitive nipples. she pinched and tugged on it as your back arched, your mouth opening into a wide "o" as you pant, your chest heaving up and down, she trails love bites along your stomach, nipping and sucking like a starved woman, she reached your wide hips, as she pushed her self up, sitting on her calves, she places her pointer finger along the hem of your cotton underwear, she bites her lip at the sight of your drenched pussy outlining your panties, groaning even more as there was already a damp spot coating the soft material, she trails her finger to the soft, thin happy trail you had, your stomach caving in as you feel your sensitivity increased even more.

"Please" You whisper, but she managed to hear it, she grins sexily as she rubs her thumb on the outline of your cunt, as you jerk from the foreign feeling, you cover your face with draping your arms on you face as your blush deepens, you let out loud moans from the delicious pressure on your cunt, you jerk your hips, Ayaka was confused from your over sensitivity, until it dawned onto her.

"You're- You're a virgin aren't you?" She asks, humiliating you further as you turn your head to the side and giving her a light nod.

She chuckles at your adorable reaction as she speaks, "Don't fret my dame, I'll prepare you really, really well." She gave you a grim expression, like a predator praying on it's pray before she trails hot, wet kisses along your calves, to your thighs, taking her time biting and nipping as you shake from the stimulations.

She reaches your cunt, the heat emitting from it making her dick throb almost painfully, she can feel it straining against her stomach, as she inhales and exhales trying to calm down, she grabs the hem of your panties, dragging it down to your thighs as she removes them.

You voluntarily spread your thighs for her, like a beautiful butterfly, " Oh, archons." She exclaims under her breath, the sight of your pretty pussy facing her, she looks up at you, eyes filled with love and affection before she dives in your cunt, her plump lips wrapping themselves around your swollen clit, you let out a whine and close your eyes tightly as you revel in the basking feeling of her mouth against your core.

You buck your hips into her mouth, greedy for the pleasure she was giving you, you feel the foreign feeling of something about to snap on your stomach, you pull her head up, her chin dripping down with your slick arousal, " My dame, come on, don't be frightened, give it to me." As she places her tongue back on your drenched cunt, your fingers finds its way into her hair, as white as now and as soft as a bird's feather, you clenched your eyes as the string snapped, you release a rather loud moan, as your cunt spasm around nothing, you heave, biting your lip in your futile attempt to catch your breath.

"You did so good for me darling, I think you are more than ready now." She looks up at you, wiping her chin with the hem of her sleeves as panic settles in your veins, "We don't have to if you aren't ready yet-" You interrupt her as you reply, " No!- I, I really want to do this with you, please, don't deprive me, My Dame." The endearment never fails to make Ayaka, the lady of the Kamisato clan, fall to her knees and almost praise you, she kneels as she drags the bottom part of her tunic, revealing her throbbing dick, tip flushed with pre-cum, you cower, eyes widening at the size, oh archons, she was blessed.

She rubs her thumb against your thighs lovingly, comforting you in a gentle manner,"Now, don't be afraid, I won't hurt you okay? I'll stop whenever you say so." She says as she give her cock a few pumps, her eyebrows knitting from her own sensitivity, she lines you her dick with your entrance, the heat from her tip in contact with your cunt sending you into overdrive.

"You're okay, we'll be fine, I'm here." She says as she lays on top of you, one hand clasped with yours, the other one guiding her dick inside of you, she pushes in the tip inside," Ngnn! It's hurts!" You say, "Shh, I'm here, it's okay, I'll be gentle hmm? Wouldn't want to hurt my princess yeah?" She says as she gives you a chuckle, easing your nerve with her calm demeanor.

She pushes in slowly, entering your pussy inch by inch, you bite your lips as tears fall down the side of your face, Ayaka looks at you with worry, kissing your tears away and whispering sweet nothings beside your ears, at last, she bottoms out, her length poking out your stomach, "Look princess, look how deep I'm in you." She says, slowing pulling out once you adjusted to her size, you let out a girlish moan, as she pulls out and trust it, her head slump down on your shoulder, as you clamp down on her cock, "You feel so good, You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you. I've been restless." Inquietus, She said as her thrusts increase in speed, the feeling of your cunt being filled, her tip kissing your cervix was enough to make you orgasm for the 2nd time, "Hold it darling, I'm almost there." She says as her thrust becomes even more futile, both of your soft moans combining, mixing in with the cold air as the rustling of trees fill your ears.

You feel her throb inside you as thick ropes of her hot seed enters your cervix, you clamp down her cock, throwing your head back and gripping the cloth under you, you both moan loudly as you feel the bump on your stomach, filled to the brim with her seed, the heat of the sun making an appearance, it's already dawn, archons.

You clench around her, seemingly milking her as she jolts, "Darling! don't- don't do that." She says as she gathers her strength to pull out of you, her seed dripping out of your cunt as she pushes it back in with a finger.

"What- What do I do, how do I clean up?" You ask as you sit up, your hands behind you to support your weight.

"Hmm, We are in need of a heir after all-" She breaks character as she laughs, you notice the way her eyes almost close when she laughs, her manerisms of placing her hands to cover her mouth, you laugh with her, hitting her chest playfully, it seems she wants a child with you, eager, eager woman.

She helps you back in your underwear, slinging your torn dress like a jacket before wrapping the blanket around you, she gathers your things, "Come home with me? I beg you, don't leave me please-" She begs as you loop your arms against hers, "I won't leave you, ever." You reassure her as you both make your way back to the estate, Ayaka grumbling about how you didn't get to sleep properly because she tired you out, blaming herself.

You give her a chuckle as you both arrive at the estate, a fairly large gathering of people outside, "My lady! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED WE HAD BEEN? WERE DID YOU RUN OFF TOO, ALONE AT THAT?-" The maiden was interrupted as Ayaka stepped aside, showing your cowering figure to the audience, silence filled the area as one person bowed down, so did the others, "Oh- you don't have to do that please-" You stop blabbering as Ayaka held a hand to your shoulders, what the Lady said next made your jaws drop to the ground as she walks past by the crowd, hand tangled with yours,

"Please prepare for our wedding tomorrow, I need it done this instant."

#ayaka smut #ayaka x reader #ayaka x fem reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #sapphic #Art by @/mintificial on twt.

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benny-the-spaceman · 8 days

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one of these days im going to release my tlm drafting headcanons from my notes app purgatory and that day is Today.

HERE'S HOW I THINK LEGO MOVIE CHARACTERS WOULD PREPARE AND MAKE DRAFTS

...under the cut

Batman

• Fairly good at drawing. Somehow able to draw straight lines without a ruler perfectly fine every single time but otherwise nothing super noteworthy (he does brag about this constantly however)

• Drafts in white and yellow posca pen??? will use white colored pencil for finer detail however, specifically one of those mechanical colored pencils

• Drafts on black paper because he thinks it makes his designs cooler (it doesn't)

• Dimensions in imperial and would be annoyed if you dare even *insinuate* he use metric. no justification here

• Doodles around his drafts, specifically likes to doodle bats and himself because he, once again, thanks it makes his drafts cooler (the bats kinda do)

• Refuses to leave notes on his designs. you either know what to do or you don't

• Does however write his drawing title obnoxiously large

• Used autocad for like a day, hated it, switched to solidworks and never went back

• Buys autodesk licenses for the rest of the masterbuilders. unwillingly, mind you, wyldstyle just knows his credit card information and abuses it

Benny

• Good at drawing exclusively spaceships. big shock i know

• The king of eyeballing a line or an angle and then labelling it however the fuck he wants. proper measurements take time he could spend drafting or making more spaceships, he'll save measuring and straightedges for drafts he deems important enough

• Uses blueprinting paper. there's no practical purpose for this, he just digs it

• Drafts with whatever writing utensil is on hand

• He gets inspired quite often so he usually keeps a drafting notepad on him just in case

• Leaves a *lot* of notes. Most of them are completely unnecessary and are a funny contrast to his haphazard dimensioning

• Pretty dang good at autocad! Usually reserves it for projects that require a lot more collaboration however

• Usually drafts in metric, can dimension in imperial but prefers not to

• 100% sets autocad to the light background like a monster

• Do not give him any 3d modelling software, he might blow up the computer

Emmet

• Either really good or really bad at drawings (obvs leaning towards bad. we remember the break in plans)

• Dimensions in imperial. I cant justify this one he just does. god bless america or something idk

• Owns a couple drafting pencils but rarely uses them, most of the time he drafts in marker or pen much to the chagrin of anyone who needs to read his drafts (or delight if you're unikitty)

• Started learning how to use autocad after taco tuesday and he's actually pretty good at it! he does use an architectural dimstyle for everything though which is particularly annoying when he's quite often not drafting buildings now

• Has labelled and colored layers 👍 enough said

• Uses disgustingly thick lineweights. horrible.

• Rarely if ever 3d models so he's not good at it, he mostly works on things that 2d conveys better anyways

• Although he's not the best drafter of the master builders, his construction background makes him the best at reading drafts, give him a unikitty draft and he can decipher it like it's nothing

Metalbeard

• Probably the best at drafting of the master builders, he's got the age advantage and lots of practice from making ships

• Drafts in pencil, quill, or charcoal depending

• Who needs straightedges or angle stencils when youre basically a pirate cyborg, expect robot like precision

• Doesn't use standard measuring conventions, instead opts to use the dumbest things possible. The Sea cow's units of measurement were seagulls. It isnt that he cant do normal units of measurement, he just prefers his made up ones

• Makes his drafting paper by himself

• Pretty good with 2d and 3d modelling surprisingly. He doesn't like either, however, he much prefers drafting on paper

• Leaves an average amount of notes on his drafts but has the most disgustingly fancy cursive and writes in his piratey english. Often a nightmare to read if you aren't used to his writing

• Will sometimes do blueprint swaps with Benny wherein they critique each other's work. not sure when they started doing it, but it's become a weekly activity for them

Unikitty

• Worst drafter of the main masterbuilder crew. Most people think it's because she's a cat but no she just doesnt take drafting seriously in the slightest

• Drafts like she's making an arts and crafts project. She has put several bottles of glitter on singular drafts and she will do it again

• Dimensions in rainbows, no knows what this means other than emmet

• Gives the longest, most complicated titles possible

• No such thing as straight lines

• Is entirely capable of drafting properly, just refuses to

• Leaves notes that are entirely unrelated to the draft. she wont tell you how youre supposed to connect two objects but she *will* tell you about the sandwich she ate while making the draft

• Doesnt use autocad, looks too boring

• Didnt use any 3d modelling softwares until she realized you can change the appearance of materials. that was a game changer. still much prefers drafting on paper though

• Likes drafting with emmet sometimes since he seems to be the only person who understands her drawings. to this day no one understands how he does it

Vitruvius

• Going blind has, surprisingly, not made him much worse at drafting, just changed his process a bit

• Drafts in pencil

• Probably the person who least frequently drafts of the main masterbuilders. On account of just not needing to and also on account of being dead

• Dimensions in the old anglo-saxon units of measurement

• Doesn't title his drafts and doesnt see a point in doing so

• Leaves the most vague, utterly confusing notes on his drawings. theyre still related to the drawings unlike unikitty's notes, but theyre very odd

• Doesn't use autocad or 3d modelling softwares, partially because he wouldnt really be able to on account of being blind but also partially because he doesn't really know what they are

• There isnt really much to say about his drafting skills he's about as normal of a drafter as a masterbuilder can be

Wyldstyle

• An engineering teacher's dream student. She may not have the amount of experience metalbeard has but she's still very skilled

• Doesn't like drafting on paper and won't if she doesn't have to

• When she does draft on paper she uses a drafting mechanical pencils. she also 100% collects them

• dimensions in metric to exactly 3 decimal places

• leaves very few if any notes (always very concise ones if included)

• has a case of staedtler stencils that she bought 4 years ago and never uses

• picked up a habit of doodling on drafts from batman but will never admit she got the habit from him

• Autocad PRO. Also really damn good at solidworks and fusion. Give this girl a computer and she'll give you a motorcycle assembly within the hour

• Specializes in automotives

• Spends time with Emmet on the weekends teaching him how to use digital drafting softwares (this process was incredibly frusturating at first but gets easier with time)

#this has been rotting in my drafts and i needed to set it free #live laugh love kind of boring headcanons and combining your interests #the lego movie #lego movie

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vernblr · 2 years

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Strawberry Blonde

Summary: You and Hansol have been friends since the beginning, nothing could get in between you. Well, except maybe the enormous crush you've had on him for years. But maybe, just maybe, in your wildest dreams, he liked you too.

WC: 3.6k

Childhood friends to lovers, college au, idiots in love (kind of), with a small sprinkle of fake dating for a family wedding

A/N: this is based off both the song by Mitski and a wonderful gif set @woozi made for me here

taglist (please let me know if you didn't want to be on it): @spookyeomie @idyllic-ghost @flowerwonu @onlymingyus

0: a bed in your shape

It’s always been life’s simplest things that made you the happiest. Lying down in a cool patch of grass, feeling it tickle your face as the clouds passed by, that was what made you happy. Well, not everything. What made you the happiest was your best friend lying next to you, absently pointing out shapes as they flew by. It was no secret that you and Hansol were close, the best of best friends who were practically joined at the hip. What was a secret was the true nature of your feelings for him, your love for him had another layer on top of being his childhood best friend and it terrified you. You tried to let your worries go, allow them to flutter away with the breeze, but it’s hard when your elbow grazes against his and his voice floats in your ears. It's not a moment later when he gets up, oblivious to your plight, and goes off to retrieve something from his car. You stare at his retreating figure and the mark he left in the grass, and you ached.

1: look at you, strawberry blond

You don’t see him again for at least a couple of days after you both left, his eyes shining with things unsaid and your heart sinking in your chest like a rock. It’s hard to keep track of the days when the haze of summer fills your senses, but you don’t have to wonder when you’ll see him again for long. He shows up at your house quietly, nestled in between the cushions of the old couch in your living room as if he had lived there just as long as you have. And as far as you were concerned, he did. That didn’t surprise you, though the new color of his hair certainly did. Gone was the familiar dark brown, now replaced with a soft orangey color.

“So, what’s with the sudden new hair color?” You asked, not taking your eyes off his hair.

He shrugged noncommittally, looking around the room for your TV remote instead. “Just wanted to dye it now that we don’t have any dumb high school rules telling me I can’t.”

You blinked in surprise, huffing lightly before plopping down on the couch next to him. “Well, I guess that’s certainly one way to celebrate graduating.”

He only snorts in agreement as you lean into him to inspect his hair further.

“Strawberry blond…” You murmured to yourself, twirling a lock of his hair between your fingers as you tucked yourself into his side.

He hummed a question at you, and you started, not expecting him to have heard you.

“Oh, your hair. The color’s called strawberry blond.” You explain awkwardly.

“That’s the name of it? But it’s not even red.”

You shrugged. “Eh, some people say it’s red, some say it’s orange, they’ll split hairs over anything. I just know that’s the name of it. It suits you though.”

Vernon flushed slightly, shyly glancing away as a self conscious smile spread across his face. And as he looked away for that brief moment, your heart squeezed in your chest with overwhelming fondness. Paying it no mind, you wordlessly hand him the TV remote he was looking for so he can open up your streaming service and judge your taste in shows again. As you settle further into his side, ready to watch the next episode of a show you’ve both been meaning to catch up on, you hear a quiet ‘thank you’ whispered next to you. If he wasn’t so close to you, you think you might’ve cried.

2: follow the white lines

You knew it wouldn’t last forever, this delicate peace. You lived in a bubble, a thin shell woven from your own emotions, and you knew it. Though that didn’t make it hurt any less when it finally burst. You had to be rational about this, you couldn’t hold onto him forever because he was his own person and not yours. Even if a dark voice whispered in the back of your head, tempting you to make Hansol yours forever, you wouldn’t do that to him. His happiness meant just as much as yours, he deserved to find it too. Even if it meant leaving you.

It was during one of your drives together that he first told you he loved someone that wasn’t you. You could recount the day with crystal clarity; it was hard to forget the way the late afternoon sun stained everything gold, and his hair was set alight with it. Looking at him was like staring into the sun, radiant but painful, and so you didn’t. Instead, you focused on the road ahead of you, feigning focus as he continued to talk about this crush of his. You held the steering wheel in a white knuckled grip as you peered into the sunlight, and you ached.

3: because i love you

Perhaps going to college with Hansol was a bad idea, now that you think about it. It seemed fun at first, and only natural for both of you. Who wouldn’t want to go to college with their best friend? You wouldn’t tell him that though, because he would ask. ‘What changed?’ Well, you did. But it wasn’t his fault and it wouldn’t be fair to him, so you swallow down the bitterness with a smile as you critique his overwhelming lack of date appropriate clothes.

“Not everyone’s going to see the appeal of your tie dye shirt and beanie collections, Sol.” You griped at him lightheartedly, chucking a striped beanie at him.

His face scrunched adorably as it hit him on the side of his face, and he tossed it back at you.

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I’ve heard it all before, it’s not my fault you don’t understand my sense of fashion. But please help me, you’re the only one I can trust with this.”

Your heart fluttered at his admission, so you sighed and finally got off your perch on his bed as you rifled through his closet for something that wasn’t spiral patterned.

Half an hour and 3 different debates later, you both finally settle on an outfit that didn’t suck (your words, not his). As a sort of payment, you pluck up one of his beanies and stick it on your head before heading out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he shouts, reaching to grab it.

Laughing, you merely duck under his reach and backpedal away from him. “Sorry, if you won’t pay me actual money to be your fashion consultant then this is close enough. Besides, it’s getting colder and I don’t have any good hats.”

Hansol rolls his eyes. “This is why I tell you having a bunch of beanies is a good thing.”

You shrug. “Why would I get my own when you have enough for the both of us? Anyway, you should get ready for your date. Isn’t it at 6?”

Eyes wide, Hansol curses and rushes back inside, shouting a quick thank you at you before you leave.

Rolling your eyes fondly, you head back to your dorm room. Despite the yellow beanie keeping you warm, you can’t help but feel colder than you were before.

4: i don’t need proof

In all honesty, you didn’t know what to expect. Hansol was always an odd one, his mind working in ways that you didn’t ever fully understand despite how long you’ve known him for. You didn’t mind, you thought it was part of his charm. But it felt out of pocket even for him to suggest a fake date.

He brought it up to you during one of your late night movie binges, huddled in his bed together as your faces were illuminated only by the light of your laptop.

“Hey, an aunt of mine is having a wedding next weekend, wanna come as my date?” He spoke suddenly, turning to you expectantly.

What you did was choke on the sip of water you were attempting to drink, spluttering and getting water all over his sheets.

He hurriedly grabbed the bottle from your hands, roughly clapping you on the back as you wheezed for air.

“Jesus Christ, Hansol! You can’t just say that out of the blue like that!” You croaked, grasping blindly for your bottle again.

He merely quirked an eyebrow at you while giving your bottle back, brushing the excess off his blanket. “Why not? You know how she is, she’s going to try to set me up with someone at her own wedding otherwise and you know it. Besides, you’re basically family anyways, it wouldn’t be weird to bring you.”

You took another long sip, contemplating your choices. Hansol’s aunt was, no offense, a busybody who loved to stick her nose in other people’s businesses, so he was right on the money for that. You definitely didn’t want him to be stuck at something like that, at least not alone. Imagining Hansol frantically dodging his aunt’s meddling ways in a stuffy suit made you giggle internally. He would be so out of his element there that you felt bad for him. Nah, you wouldn’t abandon him like that. Besides, you got free food out of it and you weren’t busy that weekend anyways.

“Didn’t you go out on a date with someone recently, why don’t you bring them?” You asked suspiciously. Maybe you were a little jealous but you wouldn’t let it affect you. Much.

He shrugged again. “Eh, it didn’t work out. And even if it did, I feel kinda weird bringing them to a wedding with me. It sounds like I’m rushing or something.”

You nodded sagely, drinking from your bottle again. “You didn’t have to call this a fake date or whatever though, you know. You could’ve just called me your plus one like a normal person.”

Hansol flushed and scratched the back awkwardly, and you grinned cheekily at him. Even if this was going to mess with your feelings in all sorts of ways, you couldn’t let go of the chance to tease him. He merely shrugged and mumbled about not thinking about it before reaching over to grab your laptop that had managed to slide to the end of his bed in all the commotion. The movie proved to be a good distraction from your feelings, you didn’t want to think about either the elation you felt about being chosen over the person he went on a date with or the ensuing guilt that came from being this happy about it.

Laying down in the same bed with him hours later, his soft breathing filling the room as you stared blankly at the ceiling, you realized something. He never properly answered your question. That and the mental image of him wearing a suit made your heart squeeze, and the combination of the two nearly left you breathless. It was decided. You were very much screwed.

5: i love it when you look my way

At this point you really should’ve expected half the things coming your way by doing this. If fumbling around to find matching outfits wasn’t a strong enough indicator that all of this was ridiculous, then Sofia’s smirk at you certainly was. You scowled at her in response, silently willing her not to open her mouth and say anything. She didn’t, but the Cheshire grin on her face only seemed to grow impossibly larger. Ok so maybe being more emotionally aware than Hansol was a really low bar, but Sofia’s always been on your case about your crush. You didn’t need to worry quite yet, as being in close proximity to Hansol meant that you also had dirt on his sister. Lots of it. You’ve known her just as long as you knew her brother, and that meant you knew plenty about her even if you weren’t the closest with her.

“So.” She started, a conspiring look in her eye. “You’re here to be my brother’s fake date huh?”

You shot her a glare in return. “I’m here as his plus one, don’t you even start with this here-”

You cut yourself off with a bright smile as the bride came your way, looking absolutely radiant in her elegant gown with flowers in her hair. For about half a second, you let yourself believe that maybe she wasn’t as bad as you thought she was. Until she squished your cheeks together, her engagement ring digging painfully into your face.

“Look at you,” She cooed at you. “All grown up now, and in college too! Oh, how fast kids grow up.”

She looks over your attire, and over to Hansol who was playing with his younger cousins. “It’s so good of you to finally date Hansol, we’ve all been waiting for it.”

You froze up, mind racing through a thousand different thoughts all at once. Wait, he liked you? The utter confusion (and, if you were willing to admit it, terror) on your face must’ve betrayed your thoughts because she reached up to cup your face again and patted it lovingly.

“Didn't you realize it before? The boy’s looked at you like you hung the moon in the sky since you were children. Hm, explains why it took you both so long to date. Better late than never, we aren’t getting any younger here.” She mused to herself, a fond smile on her face.

Soon the music came on, cueing her to smooth out her dress and send you one last smile over her shoulder before heading up towards the altar. You smiled weakly in response, heading to your own seat in a haze.

You couldn’t help but turn the words over in your head on loop as the ceremony proceeded, you felt like your bones were made of lead and you moved on autopilot as the shock clouded your senses. Vernon could see that you were out of it, placing a hand on your knee and squeezing lightly to reassure you. He shot you a worried glance out of the corner of your eye, and you nodded once in response. You… you would deal with this later. Not at a wedding, in front of tons of people with even more prying eyes and ears.

Vernon stayed by your side as the ceremony came to an end, the deafening thump of the music playing on the dance floor a perfect parallel to the beating of your heart.

“Hey, are you okay?” He practically yelled in your ear, his breath tickling it.

“I’m fine, I’m just not good with formal stuff like this.” You yelled back. That wasn’t quite a lie, but that wasn’t why you were feeling off.

“Do you want to get out of here? I can just tell the others that you’re not feeling well, we can just hang out at my house since my sister and parents will probably stay the whole time.”

“We should still wish your aunt congratulations though before we leave, it would be rude of us to just go without saying anything.”

He nodded at you instead of saying anything else, taking your hand and smoothing his thumb over the back of your hand as he led you away from the commotion.

You gave your goodbyes to Hansol’s family and his aunt, who swept you both up in a fierce hug that knocked the breath out of you before heading out. You deliberately chose to ignore the gleam in his aunt’s eye before you left, the light breeze soothing you like a balm after being stuck in a room filled with people all night. Hansol kept your hand in his as you walked to his car together, knowing how much you hated walking in your stiff fancy shoes at night in fear of tripping over yourself. Maybe he did love you as much as you loved him, and the thought of it made your heart flutter. Fear still lingered beneath the elation, the chance that he didn’t love you that way still lingered in his mind.

The drive back to his house was a silent one, but not uncomfortable. He was content to drive home in silence, oblivious to the thoughts swirling around in your mind as you leaned your head against the window. You cherished his friendship too much to ruin it, the fear of ruining what you had together was the reason why you kept all your feelings to yourself for so long. But now, there was a chance. A faint glimmer of one at best though, should you really take his aunt’s words to heart? Damn, you should’ve grilled his sister for details about his feelings when you had the chance, but there was no moment like the present. You would do it, you would confirm once and for all whether or not he loved you as something besides a friend.

You took a deep breath as his car rolled up to his driveway, trying to steady your nerves. You stopped him as he was about to put his house key in the lock, staring at you inquisitively at how nervous you looked.

“Can we talk for a moment?” You asked, piquing his curiosity more. You took another deep breath, the chill of the night biting at your bones now instead of refreshing you. “Your aunt told me that you had been in love with me since we were kids, is that true?”

Hansol’s eyes widened, gulping visibly at being called out so blatantly. Unsure of the steadiness of his voice, he only nodded at you. Your chest swelled with years of hidden affection as you pulled him to you by the lapels of his blazer and kissed him as hard as you could, threading your hands through his hair. His hands scrambled for purchase against you, before settling on your waist and pulling you closer too. Nothing in any book you had ever read would be enough to prepare you for the way you felt. Sparks didn’t fly and fireworks didn’t burst in your head, but they didn’t need to. Everything just felt right, like it was meant to be. It was cold outside and your teeth were clicking against each other and the gel in his strawberry blond hair was sticking to your hands and you were quite literally kissing on his front step for everyone to see, but you didn’t care. Nothing else mattered to you in this moment but this, and it was a glorious thing. Even as you broke away for air, foreheads touching as you both panted for air, the smiles on your faces was enough confirmation for the way you felt. Hansol hugged you tightly, dotting your face with little kisses and chuckling at the way you scrunched up your face at him. Neither of you want this to end, this feeling. Something changed fundamentally between you, but it changed in a way that you had only dreamed about. When a particularly strong gust of wind sends bouts of shivers down your spine, he gently takes your hand and leads you into his house, same as always. The more things changed, the more they stayed the same.

6: a life in your shape

You sat curled up on his bed with him again, watching yet another movie on your laptop. You leaned against his chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You felt him chuckle beneath you as you watched a wedding scene in the movie, prompting you to raise an eyebrow and side eye him.

“What’s so funny about this? Nothing is happening here.” You say slowly, suspicion coloring your voice.

“Nothing.” He replies. “It just reminds me of the fact that you literally kissed me on my front step the night of my aunt’s wedding. What a way to steal the show.” He chuckles harder at the way you flush, hiding your face in the sweatshirt you stole from him.

His chuckles become a full blown laugh when you continue to hide your face in the sweater, pausing the movie to hug you closer and kiss the crown of your head.

“Oh come on, it wasn’t that embarrassing.” He teased, tugging at the collar to pepper your still warm face with tiny kisses. “It gives us a funny story to tell if we ever get married, doesn’t it?” “Hansol!” You shrieked, even more embarrassed now.

His laugh continued to fill the room until you turned around and started hitting him with the pillow beside you, replacing it with half hearted pleas for mercy as you continued to assault him with it. Once you had let out all your aggression (and half the stuffing in the pillow), you sulked against him as you continued watching the movie, knowing he was smirking to himself at your reaction. Whatever remained of your anger soon faded as well as you both giggled incessantly at the odd voice the minister spoke in, falling over yourselves in laughter as you competed to make the most ridiculous exaggeration of his voice that you could. The embrace he held you in tightened ever so slightly as you watched the two main characters kiss, and you leaned up to him to lightly peck him on the lips. He smiled against your lips, grateful for the way you knew him so well without having to say anything. Neither of you said anything as the end of the movie played out, and you didn’t have to. You didn’t need any kind of movie-perfect ending, but with Hansol at your side you felt that this was as good as it gets.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #vernon #vernon imagines #if you know what movie i'm referencing in the last part i'm aggressively shaking your hand

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i-am-a-living-god · 8 months

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This is an art improvement post.

this was the first environment painting I did back when I first started learning watercolor. (Around 6 months ago)

this one is my latest, I think you can really see a big difference. Both with the environment and the turtles. (Ignore the curving wood, it's just the paper warping)

In the first one I didn't really have much practice drawing ninja turtles. Or backgrounds and stuff.

I still shy away from backgrounds but I think I'm doing much better now :)

I feel like a god, I can see all of the layers of color on everything now, like I can see the layers of color on skin and stuff and Its low-key freaking me out. (I think this is what opening your third eye actually is, the truth they never wanted you to know) When I look at someone's face I no longer see skin color, instead I see a rainbow! (Update, they were gay)

Anyway, I just think it's rather inspiring to see someones growth as an artist (it usually makes me feel less like shit about my art)

Also I want to brag. No shame in it.

#art improvement #art #watercolor painting #watercolor art #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #watercolor

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necroangelz · 5 months

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no one's gonna save you now so you better save yourself !!

day 7 of @ebiuxxxx's event

“ a character / song you don't know at all. ”

QUANXI EDIT! holy shit this is my final prompt for this event wahhahahahah i feel so powerful. anyway yeah idk who this is I've only seen csm's anime but she looks really hot and her playlists are super hot too. idk how much this counts as a graphic but FUCK YOU ALL (@ no one) idc

rambling under the cut. like/rb appreciated!

NOW PLAYING: After The Storm by Kali Uchis feat. Tyler, The Creator && Bootsy Collins !!

ok so like yeah I've watched the chainsaw man anime and honestly i think it's really cool, i enjoyed it a lot, and I'm interested in the manga but i don't have a lot of attention span to read manga </3 so the information remains unknown to me. i read quanxi's wiki once but i forgot about the stuff i read so she's still practically unknown to me. all i know is that her name is pretty, she has Women, and she is SO FUCKING HOT AAAAHHH im gonna look at fanarts of her soon

i also looked at playlists of her and i really like the songs. to go with the prompt i linked a song that i also don't know!

while making this edit i also tested how to like. do stuff, in ibispaint. like drop shadows, strokes, doing stuff with layers idrk how to describe but like fucking with their length, etc. so it was a great learning experience! also recoloring stuff is much more fun than i expected ngl... the amount of clipping layers i made..... i realized i probably should've used a material photo for the picture frames instead of coloring above it but oh well! too lazy to fix that now and it looks fine the way it is

anyway yeah this is my first "editing" event done. it was really fun i like events bc the prompts give me a baseline for what to do and also a sense of urgency to complete everything [: it's like hw except i don't want to kill myself

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e-wills-afterhours · 4 months

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Vetrnaetr, Chapter 7

A/N: Another new chapter of Vetrnaetr! Sure, it's been like...a year. That's fine. It's fine. Everything is fine. I feel like I've lost my touch a little--but it is fine.

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Hiccstrid, Affairs AU

Start from the very beginning here.

-----

Of all the wild animals one could domesticate, dragons had to rank among the best in terms of versatility, companionship, and absolute undeniable badassery. The near-exclusiveness Berk enjoyed with the beasts was a thing of envy--and a secret closely guarded lest they welcomed war upon their island. A small, rather reclusive tribe of Norsemen with an army of obedient dragons at their disposal would raise a few eyebrows and undermine regional stability. They would be a threat to squash. Berk's greatest asset could easily be its undoing, should it inspire a covetousness in their enemies and fair-weather allies--and Chief Stoick considered all their alliances to be tenuous and conditional at best.

Astrid was glad that the threads of fate sought fit to place her on Berk. Her life, a mess though it was at the moment, was made rich by Hooligan culture now steeped in a fierce love of dragons. Once, the flapping of great, leathery wings and overhead shadows brought fear and death. Now, she hardly noticed a low-flying Gronckle, and dodged the Terrible Terrors that scurried underfoot with practiced ease. Berk used to be a place painted with ash and flames--but as the sun rose high over the island, her village seemed vibrant with colorful dragons at every turn.

Stormfly's unwavering loyalty was a great comfort amid the chaos of holiday busyness and faltering relationships. Astrid could not imagine life without her dragon, though such a life was all she had known a few short years ago.

But that was a whole different world that was slipping from memory, like the last vestiges of a nightmare broken up by the bright, new day.

Morning flights, evening flights. They still cleansed the soul, a respite for the mentally and emotionally laden.

The chill in the air, high among the clouds, was nearly intolerable. Astrid's teeth chattered and she shivered beneath her thick layers of wool and furs. Her fingers were numb in seconds, but her dragon's cries of delight were worth it as they took to the sky. Stormfly was nearly sing-song as she rolled over the waves and glided on the air currents, spotted wings outstretched like a great, scaly gull. In a couple of months, the dragons would leave Berk during their annual migration to warmer climates to breed. Astrid could not blame them. When winter was in full swing, she wished to join them. Instead, she counted down the days until they returned.

Astrid closed her eyes, breathing deeply, lungs filling up with icy salt air. It stung a little, but it was more freeing than the smoke from the hearth and sewing by firelight under her mother's critical eye. Indeed, flying in the bitter cold and biting wind was preferable to cooking under scrutiny, hoping to earn passable marks and an afternoon's reprieve from mandatory lessons in domesticity. For some reason, her mother seemed to suffer the delusion that she could fix her relationship woes with a hearty stew and needlepoint. Maybe perfecting her homemaking to the same degree as her combat skills would make her irresistible--a wife to be desired.

How laughable, when she did not want to be solely valued for such things.

"Go, Stormfly! Go!" she shouted, nudging her dragon into a sharp dive., the rush of frigid wind drowning out her thoughts.

Thunderdrums could be seen just below the surface, their spots peeking in and out of the tide, drawing ever closer. Such reckless flight and freedom sustained the troubled heart--Hiccup has shown her that. Astrid whooped, tears streaming from wind-battered eyes as they rushed toward the waves below.

Sometimes, she wondered what might happen if her dragon did not pull up at the last moment, skimming the white caps with her claws. If they kept diving, plunging into the depths, might they puncture the veil and end up somewhere else; a place where she could chart her own future without everyone else's input? She supposed such a place was for dreams: the impractical desires of youth that eventually crossed over into fond memories of a still wild and untamed imagination, before things like responsibility and duty beat it into submission.

She closed her eyes, sitting up in the saddle. With outstretched arms, it felt like she was flying, fast and low, and far away.

Peace. Finally, she was at some small semblance of peace...

"HELP!" came a scream over the roar of the ocean, piercing her reverie.

Astrid pulled back on her dragon's reins, and Stormfly came to an abrupt stop, hovering in midair as she glanced around wildly.

"HELLO?" she called back, reaching for her axe. Maybe, just maybe, she could put it to use for the first time in ages.

But she saw no one else among the stacks, other than the plump grey seals sunning themselves on the rocks scattered at the bases. The only answer she received was the squawk of the coastal birds going about their business, riding the air currents.

To her right was an inlet, cliffs sharply rising on either side of the mouth Agmundr's Sound. She and her father would take many camping trips there in her childhood, where she first learned to fish and to sail. Now it was a popular location for Berk's youth to spend an afternoon on the beach, away from their parents and responsibilities. It was also a fine place to strip down to one's undergarments and ride the Scauldrons that nested there in the summer, when the water was warmer, and the days were long.

The desperate scream echoed through the air once more, and this time, Astrid was certain the source was somewhere inside Agmundr's Sound.

She steered her dragon into the deep, broad divide that Odin cleaved out of Ymir when he fashioned Berk and all the world to his liking. Stormfly flew low as they searched the length of the sound, her reflection keeping pace on the gentler waters below. Fir trees lined the cliffside, but nothing stood out. All she could hear in the distance was the call of Berk's resident Timberjacks.

Maybe she had imagined someone calling for help? Perhaps stress was getting to her? She was about to call off her search, resigned to the notion she had misheard--when there, on the shore where the two cliffs diminished into rolling hills and met, she saw a great scar in the earth. At its end, was a familiar black dragon--and Astrid's heart skipped a beat. Toothless stirred up all kind of feelings by association, and she could not leave him in distress.

Stormfly landed gracefully on the beach, taking care to avoid the deep trench that had been gouged there from a rough landing. The black dragon's rider--the mystery screamer--also became apparent. Fishlegs sputtered, brushing the cold, damp sand from his cloak while Toothless growled at him--one did not need to speak dragon to understand the gist of the Night Fury's frustrations, and what he wished to communicate.

"I'm sorry!" Fishlegs pleaded with the dragon. Toothless was not the least bit sympathetic, turning his back to him in an indignant huff.

"Are you alright?" Astrid asked, dismounting.

Fishlegs gave a start. He had been too busy arguing with the disgruntled Night Fury to notice her arrival.

"Astrid!" he exclaimed, face brightening at once.

He trudged over to her, trying to shake the remaining sand from his clothes.

"Maybe you can talk some sense into him," Fishlegs whispered, jerking his thumb in Toothless's direction.

Astrid surveyed the scene: filthy clothes, a great plowing of the earth, and one bent tailfin.

"Did you crash?" she asked, though it was plain.

"It's not my fault!" Fishlegs cried. He hurried over to the Night Fury and pointed emphatically at the complex flying apparatus. "I mean, what?"

Astrid folded her arms beneath her cloak. "Didn't Hiccup leave you instructions on how to work it?"

"He did," Fishlegs replied, pouting. "They made a lot more sense on paper."

Astrid frowned and walked around Toothless, examining the intricate feat of seemingly impossible engineering that Hiccup made appear effortless. Toothless flashed her a gummy smile, tongue lolling out the side of his wide mouth. He began to wiggle with anticipation as she circled him.

"I don't think you've busted it beyond repair," she said, and Fishlegs breathed an audible sigh of relief. "But I'm not the expert in these things," she added.

His face faltered. "You're not going to tell Hiccup, are you? He'll be so mad!"

Astrid crouched down to hold up the tail fin, the most medial piece of ribbing bent at an odd angle. "Somehow, I think he'll notice," she replied flatly.

Fishlegs groaned, gripping his short, choppy hair. "He's never going to trust me with Toothless again!"

Astrid stood up, hands on her hips. "Don't take it personally. He doesn't trust anybody with Toothless. Not really."

"He trusts you."

Astrid remembered the days when Hiccup was still healing from his duel with Stefnir, arm in a sling. He offered her his good hand and brought her over to an impatient Night Fury in his complete rig. She had been confused; Hiccup had agreed not to fly until he was sufficiently mended--but he stepped aside so she could climb into the saddle instead. With patience and calm, he taught her each position of the tailfin until she could shift gears fluidly.

Then, he took large steps back as Toothless unfurled his wings, and said, "I trust you."

It must have been killing him inside to let go and grant her access to the final, most personal part of himself--but he exuded nothing but warmth, looking at her astride his dragon like she held his world together.

"He did trust me," she muttered to Fishlegs.

"He does," he corrected with an encouraging smile.

Outside of Toothless and Astrid, Fishlegs was Hiccup's closest friend. Perhaps he had found time to confide in the other boy between talk of dragons.

Astrid shook her head, heavy with self-pity. "Well, I've gone a made a mess of things, haven't I?"

Fishlegs was nodding along until pinned in her gaze. His eyes widened, and shifting awkwardly he said, "Oh! That wasn't rhetorical?"

She sighed. "Never mind. It's not anything I don't already know."

They stood in a heavy silence with the dragons considering them. puzzled. Fishlegs looked pained, like he had something to say, burning his throat, but something held it in. Or he wanted to vomit. Honestly, the expression was about the same.

Astrid waved her hand, dismissing the thought on the tip of his tongue. If some secret lingered there, entrusted to him by Hiccup, then she did not want him to be tempted into betraying that trust. Fishlegs was a good friend, but it did not take much to pry confessions from him--and Hiccup was already frustrated with her, plenty enough.

"Tell you what: I think Toothless can still manage to get home, though it won't be fast or with flourish. I will fly him for you, if you agree to fly Stormfly back to Berk for me," she said, patting the Night Fury.

"Thank you!" he practically cried with relief.

Even Toothless perked up at the prospect of flying with someone competent.

Stormfly crouched down and Fishlegs clambered up into the saddle. He struggled for only a moment, used to a dragon much closer to the ground. Astrid mounted Toothless and hooked her foot beneath the connecting peg for Hiccup's prosthesis. While it was built for him alone to operate smoothly, she could manage by flexing her foot to pull the peg up into position or rest her foot atop it to press it down. By no means was it a fluid process. She could not shift gears in that seamless way only Hiccup could--but she managed. At any rate, she was adept enough to fly Toothless safely home from Agmundr's Sound.

Stromfly stretched out her wings, ready to push off from the beach, but Fishlegs hesitated.

"For what it's worth," he began, "I've never known Hiccup to be happier than when you two are together. And--"

"Thank you, Fishlegs," Astrid interjected, "But you don't have to--"

"It will work out for you. It has to." He paused for a beat, then added, "I think he loves you too much. He doesn't talk about anyone else the same way."

Astrid did not say anything. Her eyes stung, and she told herself it was simply the cold wind channeled through the sound that also tossed her loose hair about. Fishlegs smiled, looking pleased with himself, as if his words alone would set things right.

"Just put Stormfly back in her stall, please."

"You got it!" Fishlegs replied, and Astrid watched him take off above the frosted trees.

She did not think it possible, but her heart ached all the more.

------

Hiccup was overjoyed to be leaving Helgafell at last. He had grown weary of snow, rock, and bare trees. As miserable as the journey home would be, captive on a boat with nothing to look at but his burly tribesmen and a vast expanse of rolling gray sea, each hour would bring him closer to home, to his own bed, belongings, to Toothless--and to Astrid.

The words of her letter, and that implicit ultimatum of hers, were branded on the forefront of his mind. He was a flurry of emotion to match the winter storm that blew in that morning as they packed up. No one asked, but he had to seem more distracted than usual. As he helped load their ship, he was equal part angry, anxious, and lovesick. He wanted to see Astrid, but dreaded the confrontation it would bring. He wanted to resolve their issues, but feared the implosion of their relationship if he said the wrong thing--and lately, it seemed every word he uttered was the wrong thing. He wanted to make her happy, get back what they had worked so hard for, but he did not know how to be anything other than himself; it was quite the conundrum.

"That's the last of it," Stoick declared, as the small crate of their rations was carried onboard. "Are you ready?"

Hiccup nodded, stepping onto the gently rocking ship.

As the rest of the crew followed behind him, he took one last glance out at Helgafell. The frosted temple towered above the dwindling tents. With camps being dismantled left and right, the island looked even smaller than it had before. The mysterious volva wandered among the stragglers, offering them any herbs and psychedelic fungi that might make the journey home more bearable.

Hiccup would've purchased the bunch if it could erase his memory the trip and the things he had learned. He could still smell the blood of the sacrificial animals and hear the resigned groan of dragon before it died. The distant stare of the volva haunted him when he closed his eyes.

They shoved off, and he felt a weight lifted. From the moment he had set foot on Helgafell, there had been an oppressive and ominous energy, as if he was one faux pas, one misstep from bringing hostilities on Berk. He played his part, the dutiful heir. While the island began to fade in the distance, shrouded again in fog and snow, Hiccup's heart was burdened by the realization that he would continue to play the part until it became the reality of him.

He sighed, leaning on his elbows set upon the starboard gunwale. Their ship ploughed through the waves, and he watched the sea ebb and flow, beating against the hull before exploding into briny mist. The deck creaked beneath familiar footfalls approaching him from behind, trying to be softer than their capacity.

Stoick cleared his throat, but it was unnecessary.

"With the wind on our side, we might see Berk half-a-day earlier than planned," he said, large hands coming to rest on the same faded red gunwale supporting his son in his best attempt to appear casual.

"That would be nice. Lots to do before Vetrnaetr kicks off, I guess?" Hiccup replied.

He pretended it was not so amusing to see his father's impressive red beard dancing about in the wind, catching snowflakes.

"There is, but I suppose Spitelout has seen to most of the preparations."

Hiccup nodded and the two of them gazed out at the ocean, churning and reflecting the dreary sky as if one might bleed into the other. His father was watching him out of the corner of his eye as he so often did.

"I know you did not enjoy the trip," Stoick spoke up after a very pregnant pause.

"Maybe it was all the talk of funding wars through trade or watching that dragon die such a pointless death for the sake of a man's ego that did it."

"I hope you realize how important it was all the same."

Hiccup straightened up, wrapping his cloak more tightly around his body.

He merely answered, "Yeah."

'"The world is a lot bigger and more complicated than you realize," Stoick said, patting him. on the shoulder.

Hiccup scoffed. "Bigger, I knew. Complicated? I think I already knew that too. But I didn't know how ugly 'complicated' could be. I am naiver than I thought. Or maybe I just convinced myself it would always be someone else's problem."

Stoick considered him, brow heavy with pity. "There is more to being the chief and keeping your people safe and provided for than what can be taught on Berk alone."

Hiccup sighed, and gave another, "Yeah."

Stoick gripped his shoulder turning him until they made eye contact. "You are the future, Hiccup. All of Berk's hopes rest on you. I know that you are up for the task."

Hiccup only ever shrank under his father's lofty expectations. That unearned, unrelenting pride shone down upon him was uncomfortable, and he was meant to carry it without complaint, without faltering. He could not meet his father's glowing stare.

Glancing down at the deck, he muttered. "I wish I was as sure as you."

Stoick did not waver. "There will come a day when you will be."

Hiccup had to turn away, and gaze back out at the ocean. he assumed his previous position, leaning thoughtfully against the gunwale.

He responded with a noncommittal, "Mm."

As Stoick walked away, satisfied with his final word on the matter, Hiccup reached into his cloak and took out the pendant he bought on Helgafell. He turned the cold metal over in his hands, studying the dragon there. The more he looked it over, the more he was certain the extra set of wings was not just the error of an unskilled craftsman.

"What kind of dragon are you?" he murmured, tracing over the image with his thumb.

-----

Sneaky returned home in the middle of the night. He was unscathed, as Astrid knew he would be. Hiccup would never have let any harm befall the little blue dragon, no matter how hostile toward dragons Helagfell might be. Perhaps it was a good thing she was only half awake to greet Sneaky, or the full weight of the notion that her lover had read her letter would have crushed her. She fell back asleep, Terrible Terror curled against her side, while vaguely aware of the uncomfortable squirm in her gut.

The next morning brought with it the full realization that an argument was heading her way, sailing home in two days' time. She tried to stay busy to stifle the dread. Maybe there would come the favorable resolution Fishlegs promised--but she did not want to suffer the heartache and pain to earn it. Hiccup was not often angry. Even rarer still was his fleeting foul moods directed at her. She's rather take a dozen blows to the gut than see those green eyes of his glare back at her with bitterness.

The prospect was enough to drive her mad, and she needed a steady stream of distraction.

She spent the next couple of days alternating between flying Stormfly in the mornings and flying Toothless in the evenings; Gobber straightened out the bent metal rod of Toothless's fin in no time at all. She did not mind caring for the two dragons, because it was a valid excuse to keep her out of the house, her mind of more pleasant things. Nobody questioned her with the Night Fury. In fact, the whispers and sidelong glances decreased when she was with her boyfriend's dragon. Astrid caring for Toothless seemed to be more right with the world than leaving him in the care of Fishlegs. To be close to the Night Fury was to be as close to Hiccup as she could get in his absence. Toothless also seemed fond of the arrangement, nothing but smiles and boundless energy for her. She wondered if he would put in a good word for her with Hiccup.

But alas, when she was not with a dragon, her mother kept her occupied with chores. That afternoon, she was hanging the laundry in near the hearth to dry as her mother boiled carrots, potatoes, and onions for the lamb her father was roasting over the fire behind the house. Meat could not be left unattended for long, lest Terrible Terrors make off with it. Sneaky was particularly skilled in this brand of thievery. Her father always had some choice words.

She had just poked her head outside to check on the lamb roast at her mother's behest, when a long, low, horn bellowed over the village.

"Chief Stoick is back!" she heard people call out. "They've all come back from Helgafell!"

Astrid froze. She met her father's eye. He stared back at her, knowingly.

With a small nod of his head, he told her, "Go on."

She spun on her heel and took off toward the docks, heart racing. Her cloak was left hanging on its peg by the door, but she did not notice the cold. People stood, waving at the ship as it pulled in, and Astrid weaved around them. She stopped short of running out ahead, slowing down to remain among the first row of onlookers.

Spitelout was there to catch the thick ropes thrown over the side. He and Silent Sven worked together to secure the mooring. Gobber and a couple of other able-bodied men received the items that were being unloaded and handed off to them: tents and the remaining rations, most likely. Perhaps even some exotic goods procured by trade?

Astrid imagined what might be found at Helgafell frozen shores: furs, metals, weapons, and wines--all things could promise a fun time during a harsh Norse winter.

Then Stoick disembarked, followed by Hiccup, and all daydreaming evaporated. Spitelout and Gobber pushed themselves to the forefront of the crowd and engaged the Chief in talk of festival preparations at once--what had already been accomplished and what was left to do. Hiccup had barely taken a step before he was rushed by a group of children: the newest of dragon-riders from that year's Selection ceremony--all excitedly shouting over each other about tricks they had learned, and new skills acquired. Hiccup smiled as they tugged on his cloak and his hands, all vying for his attention.

"Wow, really?" he said above the noise, to no particular child. "You'll have to show me."

The gaggle of his adoring, miniature fans all continued to talk at him unintelligibly, until someone called out," Night Fury!"

The mob of small dragon riders scattered with shrieks as a big black, scaly mass tackled Hiccup flat, onto the dock. Stoick, Spitelout, and Gobber reflexively stepped aside without as much as a hitch in their conversation. Toothless was all wiggles and aggressive nuzzling as Hiccup tried to sit up and catch the breath knocked out of him.

"Toothless! Toothless! Stop!" he insisted between laughs, trying to push the enthusiastic dragon out of his face, if only for a moment to collect himself. "For Odin's sake!"

As he sat up, the dragon let out a groan and rolled onto his back, exposing his belly. The children giggled at his antics.

"Oh! Is this why you missed me?" Hiccup teased, scratching Toothless's throat before moving over his chest. He adopted a tone reminiscent of how one might speak to a baby. "This is really why you missed me, huh?"

Toothless's tongue flopped out of the corner of his mouth and one of his hind legs kicked in delight.

"He really did miss you," Astrid spoke up, finally. She smiled despite their fighting. Her boyfriend's relationship with his dragon was endearing and infectious.

Hiccup glanced up, startled. His face faltered, and he scrambled to his feet. "Astrid! I, uh...I didn't see you there."

"Well, it is kind of hard to see anything else when Toothless demands attention."

He wouldn't meet her gaze. "Yeah. Right."

The uncomfortable silence that settled between them was disturbed only by a few sparse snow flurries, and the creak of the dock beneath Toothless as the dragon rolled onto his feet.

"I got your letter." Hiccup said, and Astrid felt the anxious twist in her gut. His Night Fury nudged him in the elbow, demanding his attention.

Facing him had not been so agonizing since that night on Dragon Island when they both were at their limit and had nothing to lose--that argument had a desirable ending. Perhaps, with the proper time and free of distractions, they might go two-for-two.

"Look," she began; and now she was the one who could not quite look him in the eye, "We need to talk. Badly. We've been open with each other before, and--"

"Are you guys fighting?" one of the children spoke up, loud and insistent.

Astrid gave a small start; she forgot they were there and desperately wished they weren't. Now, she was all too aware of the many eyes on them both, with rapt attention for a conflict they could not possibly understand. She frowned, and seized the rude child's helmet from his head, flinging it down the dock so he had to chase after it.

"Heeey!" some of the other kids obnoxiously cried.

When Astrid turned back to Hiccup, smug, he had already climbed into his saddle. Toothless unfurled his wings.

"Hiccup, wait!" she pleaded.

But he either had not heard her over the rush of his dragon taking flight, or at that moment, mending the hurt was not his priority. Either possibility left her standing there, watching her boyfriend and his dragon disappear into the low-hanging, dreary clouds as if she had not sought him out at all. The children wandered off, disappointed and suddenly uninterested in whatever transpired between lovers--boring and unknown things the future held for them too, but far beyond their capacity to care.

The wind picked up and the delicate snowflakes tumbled and twirled with renewed fervor. A shiver rattled Astrid down to her bones, and she held tightly to herself, painfully aware of just had cold it had become.

#hiccstrid #hiccstrid fic #affairs au #long fic

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