#ofoptimiisms

Texts galore | Accepting | @ofoptimiisms

5x kissed | Accepting selectively | @ofoptimiisms

He had walked her from the bar that first night and back to her car. She was smitten. Really smitten. Leaning there, just out of the street light’s glow, Tori tilted her chin up to gaze into his eyes. He bent down and kissed her. One quick, sweet kiss. And then he opened her car door. So smitten.

An arm around him, her face buried in his side as they walked, keeping the cold at bay with his warmth. They were going to his place. Movie night. But first picking up dinner, even if she had told him she would cook. He insisted. They waited, the line moving slow. Out of nowhere, her face tipped to his, Eddie lifted her, landing a soft kiss on her lips and making her cheeks flame. And butterflies loosed in her belly. Damn him.

Half-asleep, head on his shoulder, Tori listened to the movie play. She turned her head and brushed kisses over his shoulder, smiling in the dark.

She didn’t drink a lot, but when she did, she tended to be loud, and giggly. She was both at the moment, dancing in the bar with Eddie looking on, an amused smile on his face. When the song Shut Up and Kiss Me came on, she laughed and walked over to Eddie, her hands gripping the sides of his face.. With a sideways grin, she pulled him down and planted a long, slow, probably a little sloppy, kiss on him. Without blushing.

@ofoptimiisms

“....Did you use the last of my pomegranate body wash? Because I swear I had more.” She leaned in to give him a sniff, laughing. “If it wasn’t you, I’m either going senile or the man who lives in my walls is getting bold with his livin’ here,” she teased. 

Talkin’ ‘bout ships | Accepting always tbh | @ofoptimiisms

A near-constant blush stains her cheeks as she speaks, even while her hands are chopping and stirring and creating food. “Ah. Things are good with Ed, really good. I never knew that one person could make me smile so often.” A smile crosses her face then. “There is something about him, you know? Where he does that smile he does, the one that makes me feel butterflies, but also makes me feel like I’m the most beautiful woman on the planet…” She glanced over at her friend. “And we have such good talks, he’s so smart, so funny. Never let’s things get him down. It’s really perfect, to finally have someone who just feels like they are my other half...”

Tori knows she sounds like a bad cliche. Doesn’t matter.

5 min drabbles | Accepting | @ofoptimiisms

She was frosting a cake, swirling chocolate over the buttery yellow of it. Just because. No reason for baking it other than she had wanted it and thought it would taste good. She had music playing and was shimmying around while th espatula slowly moved over the cake.

Eddie’shands came around, settling on her hips. She tilted her head back, grinning at him. “Hi, Ed...” she said, laughing.

Ship meme | Accepting | @ofoptimiisms

controls the remote - They aren’t big TV people, but Tori fills the Netflix queue. 

controls the furnace - Smol. She gets cold easy.

makes nachos at 2 am - Tori goes to experiment in the kitchen when insomnia (or nightmares) strike. Eddie gets breakfast in bed those mornings.

really really likes Candy Crush - Tori.

drinks directly from the orange juice jug - She has caught Ed doing it. He is more careful about being caught now.

tracks mud inside the house - Neither. It’s rude.

takes the kids out of school early to go to a baseball game - Both!

does crafts and leaves them half-finished on the table - Tori. Because Ed distracted her with kisses.

Intimacy | Accepting | @ofoptimiisms

He was stupid. Like she deserved any better than the be hassled at the bar, happened all the time. But this one... he had stepped in and stopped it. With his face and fists. 

She had roughly sat him down on the lid of her toilet once she got him home, and rummaged for her first aid while he held a probably dirty bar towel to his cut open brow. “D’ya know ow stupid you are?” she asked as she arranged gauze, disinfectant, and butterflies on her bathroom counter. “Because that was stupid. Don’t y’ think I can take care of myself?” 

Gretchen washed up and came over to him straddling his knees as she pulled the cloth from his eye. She tossed it into the tub and dabbed his eye and the blood from his face with a clean cloth. He was still handsome, and god how she was so thankful he’d stopped those two even if she wasn’t showing it. She didn’t like people to intervene on her behalf. What if it had been worse? What f he died trying to defend her?

No. It was better to let him only see her anger.

Gripping his chin, she pulled his face into better light and sat on him to get a good spot to clean him up. Her fingers were slightly more gentle now, giggling at the face he pulled at the disinfectant’s sting. Then pressing gauze to it harder than necessary to remind him she was displeased. Neosporin. Her lips over his bruised jaw, to thank him.. The butterflies to his brow, closing the wound. Another kiss to the busted lip before she pressed ice to it. His hand was busted too and she roughly held it up, examined it, and slathered more neosporin on it. Then she sat back, body still fitted to his, fingers holding his chin.

Mike tossed Eddie a beer and waved out to the front porch, grabbing a tennis ball to toss to his dog on the way out. “C’mon, Beanpole. The show’s about to start.” Now, most folks would figure he was talking TV. Maybe an internet show. Nah. Mike settled onto one of the chairs on his front porch, painted just last month so it looks fresh and new, with a black lab asleep on it, his muzzle greying to match the light grey of the porch.