#interaction. solveig.

[solrites]

he's holding a torn shirt with a really intense frown. seems he ripped another one on accident, oops! the buttons are missing and there's a long tear on the sides.. uh oh.

as soon as he walks in, you’re aware of the overwhelming sense of affection that’s bouncing back and forth between you two, escalating and bubbling like a soda threatening to spill over. a soft hum in the back of your throat, moving to put aside your cross stitch ( it’s of a pink wave, thank you very much!! ) on the beside table. smile curves your features, intentional and warm and very much aware of what you two do to each other, especially now. “wretched lich. too strong for yo-your — for your own good.” it sounds more like praise than anything, low and affectionate and full of warmth and heat. you shift in the bed, leaning forward — crawl until you’re at the edge of it. watch him as he watches you, lifting up onto your knees. it’s making you dizzy, the feelings licking back and forth between you. you peer up at him through heavy lashes, eyes darting down to the torn shirt, then back up to him. nudge yourself closer to the edge of the bed, higher on your knees. into his space — which, really — is where you belong. raise of your brows, voice soothing — low, a slow nod of your head. “you — you need me to fix it for you, baby? right now?” / @miewstory

[solrites]

there was time before we met. / solhenry

SOMETHING LIKE A SCOFF, eyebrows lifting as you keep your gaze tilted on the plants in front of you. you think that - the dismissive/amused noise and expression - is the meanest you can be without feeling any sort of guilt. maybe you're just too tired to feel bad about it, or maybe the exhaustion is making you interpret him as Just A Mean Person again, despite the fact that he's allowed you to sit in his garden and braid the grass without complaint. it's not making you feel better like it should, like it usually does. being outside and surrounded by things so very alive and warm, plants and fauna that won't harm you and don't know what happened to you, and wouldn't care regardless. maybe it's too cold here. you could tell him your impulse - twist that frustration into: i should probably transfer back, go home to louisiana. do you and your friends laugh and call me swamp trash? which wouldn't be fair. you think he doesn't do that. you tilt your head to look up at him, and the back of your head aches, and you remember far too much. a shrug. a shake of your head. you decide to tell him the truth, and not explain it at all. you go back to braiding the grass. "no. not really." / @miewstory

[solrites]

“ Are we arguing or flirting right now? I can’t tell. ” / solhenry

you stare at him blankly for a long moment, perhaps confused into silence at the statement for a moment. a glance around, maybe seeing if someone else heard this statement and is just as thrown off by it as you are. chin propped up on your hand, your words are muffled behind your fingers, slow - as if stating the obvious. "you never fl-flirt with me. i think we're - we're well past that. i don't think yo-you've ever done that." what you mean to say: you don't think whatever you two do is considered flirting, just always doing something that would make anyone else feel like they're invading a private moment if they even glanced at the two of you from the corner of their eye. your lips twitch upwards behind your hand, amused - keep your unblinking gaze on his face. "i'm n-not ar-argu-arguing wi-with you, either. yo-you're the one th-that seems a-awfully upset that my - mikey is visiting me. why's that?" and you tried to reassure with the: mikey isn't the person i want, relax. it did not seem to make him relax, despite your best efforts. that's what got you two into this conversation in the first place. "di-didn't you tell me so-something about - about thr-throwing fi-fits about som-something minor and trivial once?" / @heartrites

[solrites]

@wrmrot all roads lead to … two pretty best friends, actually.

SHE CAN'T PAINT STELLA'S NAILS BLUEBLUE BOOBOO IF SHE KEEPS MOVING!!! an annoyed huff, eyes darting up - and solveig has half the mind to sic mr. tomato sandwich on her. in fact! "tomato sandwich! get her!" said with a dramatic point, lips pursed.

mr. tomato sandwich is a gentle giant, so he huffs at solveig and puts his head back on her lap. sol's never told him to get anyone, and she was kidding. clearly. but still! sol glares at stella. "st-stop moving. my cheek doesn't hurt. st-stop trying to look at it ... i got - got that enough from jude ... and i knew - knew tomato wo-wouldn't get you ... you spoil him, so don't - don't look so put out. i - i bought this - this color for you. don't ruin my night."

[solrites]

@thrillor, ben(ji) said: what happens? you think something bad's gonna happen?

"I DUNNO. I THINK MAYBE I WORRY TOO MUCH. was i - hm... i dunno..." soft sigh, voice still a bit heavy with sleep. she knows she talks in her sleep, though solveig supposes ben's murmurings against her neck confirms it. maybe she should be more concerned - her intuition, if you can call whatever she mumbled in her dreams that, has always been good. can feel doom and worry in a way that would make someone that doesn't know any better believe they have a cassandra complex, or something along those lines.

but solveig knows better. and ben listens to her worries, even when they're brought forth in dreams that she doesn't remember, or when they're about her fretting over his chest to the point she works herself up into tears for, if she's being honest, NO GOOD REASON. so she's not suffering from a cassandra complex - and even if she was, she wouldn't be able to bring herself to care. she's so warm, her back to his chest, his breaths tickling against her skin and curls. soothing her into being half asleep again.

she finds herself more concerned about kissing him in this moment -- worries, perhaps a bit silly but honest, about kissing him. what if her morning breath is terrible and he decides never to kiss her EVER again? she'd surely cry, flood the apartment with her tears and wash him away into the street. or what if - oh, and she could never show her face to him ever again - her retainer slips when she kisses him, and he laughs at her! sol's thoughts are soothed when she feels the press of his thumb between her brows, soothing away the worry she's sure he knew would be there.

she wiggles in his grip. not to escape. a happy little squirm, settled and soothed. she peers over her shoulder at him. pretty, even when he's blurry without her contacts or glasses. he's always been so pretty. it makes her so HAPPY she giggles, nose wrinkling. "be-besides. y-you wouldn't -- nothing - nothing bad wo-would happen on - on your watch. or - or mine."

[solrites]

@clawsextended

YOU KNOW, SOLVEIG SHOULD'VE FIGURED OUT THAT LOVING A VIGILANTE would include some of his friends ( as she calls them - she finds coworkers too silly, and allies too serious ) coming to her at jason's trusted invitation for some healing. and, you know what else? solveig doesn't mind. in fact, she's rather delighted. hands idly rub together, hovering in front of where she sat selina down on her lovely little couch - not really thinking much of blood. again, the whole loving a vigilante thing ( and her own dramatic backstory ) has led to her being rather good at getting out blood out of various furnitures or, really, anything.

"...i also - oh. i also made some bread. if - if you want some. and - if you're hungry. well, i think it - well. the blood loss and stuff and - and whatever you do -- you must be hungry. and thi-thirsty. do y-you want some water? i - i also made some orange ju-juice this morning." a beat, an apologetic smile - akin to nervous. "s-sorry. i'm nervous. n-not - you aren't scary - well. i mean, i'm - i'm sure - sure you are. but - but jason - jason adores y-you so. so i mean. you know w-what i mean. sorry."

[solrites]

[ tug ] sender tugs receiver behind them during a tense moment / solhenry

in fairness (and maybe hindsight, though you sometimes think those can be the same thing) — henry tugging you to the relative safety of behind his back when a very tall man with visibly scarred eyes bounds towards you is the appropriate and very chivalrous thing to do. “oh, my— geez— i’ll fall— hen—“ still, you are still you, so you do almost slip on the newly formed ice as you’re tugged behind him, hands curling around his arms for safety and balance, and for the comfort and ease you get being close to him and only him. you peer around henry, eyes flickering up to his face once, taking in the concern and protectiveness sketched into his features.

but then the alleged intruder speaks, and it’s warm and delighted and clearly not deterred at all: “i can still see you, sunshine.” and maybe all that worry and loneliness you’ve felt since coming here disappears, and your face blooms into a wide smile, a weight off your shoulders, and the ice isn’t making you nervous, and the scar on your head doesn’t ache anymore, and you’re reminded of home. arms uncurl from henry, and you laugh in your delight, bounding over to orpheus, into his open arms — hugging him unashamed and unselfconsciously, tucking your head tighter when he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “phie! m-my sweet boy. oh. you’re — it’s dreadfully cold here. are your eyes stinging? this —“ still, you think of him. obviously. you gesture to henry, other arm still around orpheus’s middle. your head turns back to look at henry. “h-henry, this — this is my orpheus. th-that’s his name. not like, b-being metaphorical. he — he’s from home. we love each other very much. mhm.” / @heartrites

[solrites]

it’s a little messed up. / richard sol

OH MY GOD, YOU DO NOT CARE. "OH MY GOD, I DO NOT CARE!" you don't! sorry! you don't care about rude pretentious boys & their rude pretentious feelings about your relationship with your boyfriend and whatever feelings of jealousy or abandonment or whatever the fuck about it being a little messed up. his name is richard. that's embarrassing in itself! the worldwide accepted shortened version of his name is DICK! so you would think he would have bigger things to worry about. truly! hands thrown up in exasperation, a huff of mean laughter. a shake of your head. "like - like, oh m-my god! i'm sorry! i don't care! i don't! i don't - i just - like -" another burst of exasperated laughter, and you shrug your shoulders. you're pretty sure you're smiling, delighted and angry all at once, in the ways all batteys tend to get when there's a good tongue lashing to give, a good argument to have.

"like, oh my god, i didn't do any-anything to you to, like, ever. like, at this point, like - suck m-my dick! honestly, like, at this point, th-that's all you can do. that's all we gotta do. like, there's a - i gotta draw a line in the sand somewhere, you know what i mean? li-like, what is soc-socially acceptable to say to solv-solveig about her relationship with henry? we gotta do it. ca-cause i had my - my fucking head bashed in, and - and somehow i am - how come i'm the one out of - like out of a-anyone in your little friend - friend group that has an-any social d-decorum? what the fuck. li-like, things to ponder and th-that shouldn't be, but are! we g-gotta put a line in the sand, or you - you just have to suck my dick. or like-" you stick your arm out in a vague wave, a gesture of elsewhere. "like, anyone's! you know what i mean? suck anyone's dick! i - i fucking implore you to - to do that, if it'll mak-make you happy. as long as it's n-not my boyfriend's, as - as mu-much as i'm sure you'd love to - love to do that, i wo-would really appreciate if y-you'd sto-stop being such a fucking freak and, oh my god - get off my dick! good fucking god. get a hobby. or something." / @heartrites