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damagedintellect · 3 months

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Nakahara Chuuya x Reader

💌 Would this be considered a social suicide? : Chapter 7 💌

Summary: You knew it was dangerous to take walks at night but hearing the water rushing under the bridge was calming to your nerves. You didn’t imagine you’d ever fall into the river and somehow wake up in your favorite anime. The isekai that I’m sure will come back to haunt me. It’s kept me up all night but I might as well get the brainrot out.

Notes: Reader is Isekai’d into BSD, Slow to start, Chuuya is endgame but there’s a fair bit of reader & Dazai moments too okay like a lot of Dazai moments, implied poly but not really

♡ I was in and out of the hospital for the last half of the 2023 but it feels good to finally write again! Updates will be slow but ya'll already knew that ♡

Tags: @celestair

💌 Word count: 2,401 💌 Available Chapters [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

The next day you had been in an extremely chipper mood despite most of your colleagues being burnt out. The agency members were slumped at their desks as Kunikida furiously scribbled away at the stack of papers that Dazai had secretly pushed towards the blonde. For you on the other hand it was hard not to have a skip in your step when Chuuya had walked you home last night after your date. The day had been a breath of fresh air not to mention romantic and sweet. As Atsushi was about to leave on a small errand, a delivery for flowers came to the office. Everyone eyed the elegant display wondering who they could possibly be for but Dazai just rolled his eyes with a huff. He rolled his eyes because he thought Chuuya was doing a victory lap since he already saw the pictures from the day before. It wasn't until the messenger stated they were for an Osamu Dazai, that he looked up in confusion. Ultimately it sent the office into a frenzy. Everyone was in an uproar asking questions that Dazai didn't exactly know the answer to until he read the card attached. He fondly smiled before diverting everyone’s interest elsewhere. He glanced in your direction as you winked to which he shook his head at you. Of course you were the one behind the flowers. He mouthed "You're ridiculous." From across the room as everyone continued to pester him. Mission accomplished.

You had been texting Chuuya whenever you got the chance to, you asked about his day, sent meme’s you thought were funny, you even sent him a picture of the flowers you sent Dazai. Within the hour another delivery arrived causing you to fall out of your chair laughing as you were handed an even bigger display of flowers. This time it made Dazai groan and pretend to barf. The rest of the office wasn't surprised in the slightest that you were given flowers. Half of them could probably guess who sent them anyhow. Atsushi was really the only one who was confused and asking questions.

Since no one was getting any work done with the distractions, and to deflect the lingering attention off of you, you suggested taking a break at everyone’s favorite Cafe. That seemed to do the trick immediately giving you the much needed space you desired. The flowers were beautiful and you thought the arrangement was very thoughtful. Dazai had made the joke that he's surprised that Chuuya didn't send roses which was most people's knee jerk decision when sending flowers for multiple reasons. One of which was to flex how much money they spent on them but also they are classically romantic and who doesn't like roses. Of course, Chuuya opted for red camellias. It made you laugh since that was the flower chosen to represent the redhead in multiple official art pieces. Although looking up the meaning made you blush. Google says, “They're known to symbolize deep desire, so if you're trying to win someone over, then sending a bouquet of red camellias will do the trick.”

It certainly was working, that's for sure. You only wished you could do the same to Chuuya but you couldn't imagine that the mafia would allow a random delivery for flowers to their headquarters. On top of that you didn’t actually know if Chuuya was still at his office or out and about.

Instead you tried to think of other ways to give gifts to the mafioso. The next day, with the help of Dazai, you broke into Chuuya’s apartment to give him flowers too. It's still weird that Dazai is willing to help you like this but you shrugged it off for the most part. It must mean he really did believe your lie about your alternate timeline. That and you were skipping work. You both headed to the cafe after operation “Fluster the slug” was complete since it was most likely where everyone else would be at this hour. Still it was a shame you wouldn't be able to see Chuuya's reaction.

As you and Dazai approached the cafe you noticed the rest of the gang standing just outside the doors. You didn’t have to look inside the cafe to know that it was, that, episode. The whole agency went ballistic. You play along passing off details about the organization responsible for the hit on the cafe. All you knew was they called themselves “The Park” but that was good enough for everyone else to jumpstart an investigation.

Kunikida was still working away by the time everyone was ready for the heist. It wasn’t like you could add anything, naturally being a noncombatant you stayed behind helping file all the papers that Kunikida had been polishing off left and right. They had been gone for roughly a half hour when you heard a firm knock at the door. You looked up from the stack of files laid out on your desk to see Chuuya at the entrance. Standing up in surprise you knock over a stack of papers in the process “Chuuya, What are you doing here?” You had been eager to see him again but this was unexpected.

He smiled at your clumsiness as he crossed the room to help you pick up the papers. “I was in the area so I thought I’d drop by.” As he handed you the last document he offered you his hand, gently helping you off the floor. Taking a glance around the office he noted that it must be a relatively slow day for you, perfect. “I was gonna ask if you’d like to have dinner with me later but maybe you’d prefer to grab lunch?”

You blinked a few times at him letting the words process a little bit. He was asking you out on a date? Realistically you never did grab lunch earlier and you had done more than enough work to warrant leaving early. Still it caught you off guard that Chuuya was actually invested in taking you out. Of course he said the feeling was mutual the other day but you're just not used to people wanting to court you.

“You can say no if now's a bad time. I just figured a real man should ask in person.”

You shook your head trying to get the words to leave your mouth. You could see his confidence diminish with how long of a pause you took in order to respond. “No no it's not that-now's a great time actually. I kinda skipped lunch with all the commotion earlier!”

Chuuya raised an eyebrow in concern “Something happen?” You both start casually making your way out of the office.

When the door clicked behind you Kunikida finally looked up from his work. “Wasn’t that the Port Mafia's gravity manipulator?”

—

You explained your very eventful start to the day to Chuuya as he nodded along in understanding. Ironically the mafia had been keeping tabs on “The Park’s” activity but they were such a minor threat Mori didn’t feel like taking them out. Essentially the Agency was doing them a favor by handling them. What a small world. You both were so enthralled with your conversation it didn’t occur to either of you that you didn't have a game plan for where to eat. To be fair you’d normally eat at the cafe but they were compromised. You didn��t even really know what Chuuya's favorite foods were either. The only thing listed on his likes that was food related was wine and it wasn’t exactly the right hour to be drinking just yet.

You both had been walking around in circles just talking and enjoying each other’s company, food was the last thing on your mind. However a thought did arise given your current circumstance. It made you smile devilishly at the opportunity that had presented itself. You pulled out your phone looking up the current eateries in the area to see if any had a take out menu. Chuuya gave you a quizzical look as you dragged him to some random restaurant. “Are you sure this is where you want to eat?”

“Actually about that,” You didn’t know how to pose the question. This was only the second date and you were already asking to go to his apartment. To be fair he had been over to yours without asking so maybe this way you could call it even. “I was thinking maybe we just get take out and watch a movie at your place.” Your request sounded meek and unsure. In fact Chuuya thought he misheard you all together.

What was so great about going to his apartment? Was it even clean enough for company? Chuuya wasn’t a messy person by any means; he's just busy and leaves things out on occasion. You watched his neutral expression waver as his face darkened. A man and a woman alone together. Oh, that was a possibility. Although he shouldn't assume that to be the reason. He berates himself for thinking like that.

It didn't take much convincing for Chuuya to agree. All you really had to say was you didn't want to be around crowds for a while. After that week with Q’s ability running rampant you were okay if you never left the house again. Plus you brought up that he’s seen your place and that it would only be fair to take you to his. He really has no idea what your true intentions were. You were excited to see his reaction.

As you made your way to his building you had a skip in your step, the anticipation was killing you. He gave you a look before he put his keys into the lock. It was weird seeing you marvel at him this way. He wasn’t used to people looking at him with such admiration. Your face lit up as he motioned for you to step inside. He thought your behavior was cute but he still didn't get why you were so enthralled with the idea of being over at his place.

He went to put the food down on the table and had to do a double take. “What the hell?!” Chuuya nearly dropped the food after seeing the flowers. He was about to search his place to make sure nothing else weird was done while he was out when he saw your face. Your smile beaming wide as you giggled at him. A light dusting of blush on your cheeks.

“So that's why you wanted to come here!” he accused.

Chuuya fiddled with the card for the flowers as he turned away from you. He didn't know what to say. No one has ever given him flowers before. No one other than Dazai also breaks into his apartment. Maybe he should change the locks again. Beside the point, he was baffled and touched.

You stepped in front of him leaning over the edge of the table to smell the flowers. “Guilty! I just wanted to see your face,” you turned to him, winking “It was worth it, oh and before you ask, yes I had Dazai’s help.”

He opened his mouth but you cut him off “I made sure he didn't mess with anything before we left and no I didn't go in your room. This is as far into your place as I got.”

Chuuya clicked his tongue, folding his arms across his chest. He was watching you reach across the table with a soft smile. You really were something else. He shook his head, grabbing a flower to put in your hair. “Well, I guess I should give you a tour then.”

You stare back at him feeling warm. You couldn’t contain your happiness as he ushered you around. It was fairly big for one person and pretty well kept for him not being around all the time. You sat down on the couch as he brought the food over. You were scrolling through movies on his streaming service when one caught the corner of your eye. “The boy and the puppy” You felt Chuuya tense up beside you as you clicked on it. Honestly watching a sad movie with your almost boyfriend seems like a win, win situation. If you cry, Chuuya gets to hold you. If he cries, you get to hold Chuuya. How sad could it really be?

Turns out, extremely sad! Why was it so sad? This was just as bad as “Marley and me” . It was so heartwarming but immensely bittersweet. You both had tears streaming down your faces but he was turned away slightly trying to save his dignity. God look at you, couple of cards you were, both of you completely wrecked by a sad movie. It made you ugly laugh at the situation you put yourself in. His head snapped in your direction furrowing his eyebrows at you. “How can you be laughing at a time like this?!”

“Why did you let me watch that, you knew how sad it was!” You were laughing through your tears as he threw his arms up “The hell! You knew, I knew it was sad and you still clicked on it!” Chuuya was banking on the fact that since he’s seen the film before, knowing would prevent the water works and he would be able to suavely comfort you, but he took one look at you tearing up and then he started tearing up and now you both were a mess.

“Well this backfired!” you wiped your tears before throwing yourself on top of the redhead burying your face in his chest as Chuuya fell backwards on the other side of the couch. You pouted “I thought I was strong enough! I was going to cute cry and lean on you for comfort. This is the worst!”

He laughed shifting to make this position more comfortable. Wrapping one arm around you to make sure you didn’t fall off the edge and the other to pet your head. “Can’t win 'em all I guess.”

“Pffft yeah no kidding.” You nuzzled into his touch listening to his heartbeat. You don’t know how long you stayed like that but it was nice. It made you smile until your face hurt. It reminded you of the night Chuuya came over to your place. You felt your eyes slip shut and you drifted to sleep.

<= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

#the bsd isekai au no one asked for #chuuya nakahara x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya x y/n #chuuya x reader #xreader #x reader #bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #bsd x reader

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boasamishipper · 1 year

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For the WIP meme: I am SO torn between these two. Would it be unspeakably greedy to ask for both?

- bring back that lovin’ feelin’ ch2 (tg2 fix it series fic 3)

- swimmin’ in the floods (dancin’ on the clouds below) (tg2 fix it series fic 4)

not greedy at all! snippets from both fics below the cut:

bring back that lovin' feelin' (chapter two)

“Sorry,” Ice said, once the silence had flown past awkward and was doing Immelmann turns in the vicinity of excruciating. He gestured at his throat self-deprecatingly. “Not as good of a…c-conversationalist,” stupid goddamn fucking word, “as Mav, these days.”

Viper surprised him. “That’s fine,” he said. “It’s better he’s not around.”

Ice thought it had taken enormous courage to come along with Maverick in the first place. It took a hell of a lot more to ask why Viper thought it was better that Maverick wasn’t around.

“Gives me somebody to talk to who won’t look at me like that when I tell ‘em this might be our last time talking.” Viper scrubbed his hands down his face, looked back up at Ice, and sighed. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

Ice immediately schooled his expression into neutrality and out of the horror it’d fallen into. Just for something to do, he took another sip of water. The ice cubes clinked against his teeth, and when he found his voice again, his throat and the inside of his mouth were still parched. “Cancer?”

“No,” Viper said. “But that’d be poetic, seeing as that’s what got Corrinne. No, I…” He tapped his fingers on the table slowly, like he was trying to remember the notes to a tune he’d once heard on the radio, and his shoulders slumped. For a moment, all Ice could see were liver spots and wrinkles and snow-white hair—an old, frail man with Viper’s mustache—and it scared the shit out of him. “What’d I say about that look, Kazansky?”

Ice sat up straight. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Viper laughed out loud. “Really?” he said. His eyes twinkled with amusement. “Sir? Last I checked, you outranked me by a country mile.”

Ice bit his tongue to keep himself from retorting, Last I checked, you weren’t dying.

swimmin' in the floods (dancing on the clouds below)

“When I was growing up, I didn’t…whatever you felt, you weren’t supposed to show it.” Any sign you cared about anything at all was considered gauche, Hangman remembered. That was how you could always tell new money from the old: gaudy, ostentatious clothes and makeup that practically screamed to be noticed, constantly bragging about how much they spent on something, and public displays of affection. “I love you. You know I love you. I’m just not—showing it just feels…wrong, still.”

“You never said anything about that when we were with my family,” Coyote said, concerned, and Hangman shook his head.

“That’s different. They’re not—they don’t judge.”

“Nobody here is judging you, Jake.”

“They’re not judging you,” Hangman said, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. He knew it was hypocritical to complain about the others not being nice to him after years of him not extending them the same courtesy (or planning to start now), that he’d brought this on himself, but he didn’t like being made fun of. Not for this. “But hey. Guess that’s just karma.”

“Baby…”

“Don’t. It’s fine.”

“Clearly it’s not. Who’s been giving you shit?”

“Nobody, I just—when they look at me, they always make these fucking faces like they’re surprised I have feelings, or like they’re wondering what the fuck you’re still doing with me—”

“Because I love you,” Coyote said, so exasperated and matter of fact that it knocked the wind right out of him. “And if they don’t like it, they can fuck right off.”

#top gun: maverick #icemav #macheresin #iceman kazansky #viper metcalf #hangman seresin #coyote machado #my fics #fic: bring back that lovin' feelin'#fic: swimmin’ in the floods (dancing on the clouds below)#thanks for asking!

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daikushiji · 3 years

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hellooo can i request hcs of oikawa , suna and iwa s/o posting a video on their tiktok of both of them doing something cute tgt with the caption “i’m gonna marry this man someday” . and it went viral but the boys didn’t know the s/o posted it and they found out through their fyp or their friends etc . can i have their reactions to it ?💕

"I'm gonna marry this man"

pairings: oikawa x reader, suna x reader, iwaizumi x reader

a/n: hiii omg thanks for the request bb, i love this idea aaahh it’s so cute!! hope you like it <33

[part 2 and part 3 here!]

Oikawa Tōru

scrolling through your gallery, you spent the night watching some videos you took of oikawa and his nephew takeru

your favourite was the one where your boyfriend taught him how to serve

placing his little hands and feet in the right position, oikawa held the ball to show him where to hit it

every time takeru did a good serve, oikawa ruffled his hair praising him

all fun and games till they started bickering about who was the best volleyball player

with his tongue stuck out, oikawa’s face contorted into a grimace

while his nephew just looked at him with a stoic expression and his arms crossed

out of nowhere, oikawa pulled takeru over his shoulders, saying that he had to admit that his uncle was the best or he would have dropped him

poor takeru was clinging to oikawa’s head for dear life

“put me down!”

”you have to say it first”

”yeah! you’re the best!”

but before takeru’s feet touched the ground again, oikawa was nuzzling his face into his nephew's cheek

you posted the video on father’s day as a joke, saying that your future husband was going to be the best dad ever

little did you know he would see it on his fyp the next morning

”darling, you know you have to propose to me first right?”

he teased you the whole day, calling you his future spouse and telling you about your family together

”how many kids do you want? six are enough for our personal volleyball team, you know. and a puppy! oh yeah, we should adopt a dog for the kids to play with”

”i changed my mind, i don’t want to marry you anymore”

”what are you talking about? we already have so many kids and even a dog to take care of, you can’t back off now”

”takeru’s right, you’re so lame”

Suna Rintarō

when you posted the video your boyfriend sent you, you didn’t give much importance to the thing

suna sent you stuff like that all the time

videos with him in the background saying ‘it made me think of you’

cute photos of plants and animals, even songs

(but honestly he really enjoyed sending you weird buzzfeed quizzes and memes)

in the video you posted, suna was saying that he had to film the sunset because he knew you would have loved it

and ofc your followers went feral

when atsumu saw the video on his fyp, he showed it to the entire team calling him a simp

suna barely lifted his gaze from the phone when the devilish twins started to stare at him

“what?”

they both had an annoying grin on their faces

”so? when it’s the wedding?”

”hey ‘tsumu leave him alone, maybe he’s sending a video to y/n even now”

together they really were insufferable

after they showed him the video you posted, those two expected suna to become a blushing mess

surprise surprise, he didn’t bat an eye

”suna you’re no fun”

but when he sent you the screenshot of the tiktok, you knew what was going to happen next

“i want WAP as our wedding song and we absolutely need a theme, let me think about what costumes we could wear”

he spent the rest of the day telling you about the worst wedding ideas ever

”oh and can the miyas be our flower boys?”

Iwaizumi Hajime

everybody knew he wasn't really the type to show PDA

but whenever he saw you, iwa was quick to drop everything to greet you with a hug

one time he literally dropped the volleyball net on his teammates when you entered the gym

was he carrying some heavy books when you called his name? ops not anymore

he would have shoved them into oikawa’s arms to come and say hi to you

so after filming him for a couple of weeks, you made a compilation of him hugging you and posted it on tiktok

as soon as oikawa saw his best friend on his fyp, he couldn't control himself

”iwachan! why don’t you ever greet me like this?”

”you’re lucky if i say hi to you”

”mean! i don’t understand why y/n want to marry you”

and then he noticed the caption

when you met up with him that day, his cheeks were flushed

engulfing you into a warm hug as usual, he immediately buried his face in your hair

you squeezed the back of his neck, softly giggling in his ear

”hey love, what’s wrong?”

”i saw the tiktok you posted”

”oh! i’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable, i can delete it right now”

”it’s not that...”

he started to mumble something under his breath

so you gently tilted his head back to make him face you

leaning against your palm, he finally found the courage to meet your eyes

”I just can’t stop thinking about the day i’m gonna marry you”

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thatoneao3writer · 3 years

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so i’ve only been thinking about karlnapity since yesterday, and your fix where they are all happy and together is really good right now (it’s 🦕)

anyways, i came up with an idea on how the rest of the Hive finds out about Karl’s powers.

after Karl told Sapnap and Quackity about his powers and that he knows about them and all the other people with powers, they all decide to tell the Hive/TT about Karl knowing, not his powers, and now Karl gets to go to every movie knight and it’s great.

a little background, but because Karl has landed in the middle of random places, there tends to be things that hit him, so he developed really good reflexes to catch these things, and because his headaches from traveling don’t start immediately, he has a few moments to make sure that he is in a safe place before doing what he came to do. he can’t catch one of Techno’s pig-a-rams (he’s supposed to be Batman right?), but a frisbee, flying pencil, or the occasional baseball or golf ball he can catch. he also can teleport, it’s a part of his time traveling, he thinks of a time and place and goes there, so obviously he can pick a place and got there. he can also see the closer surroundings before he travels so he knows it’s the right place, like a five foot circle around where he lands he can see before he jumps

after a while, Karl is more relaxed about jumping around Sapnap and Quackity cause he really doesn’t care if the rest of the Hive finds out anymore.

so one day, Karl’s looking for Sapnap and Quackity and sees them talking to each other in the Hive building (remember he can see around him before he travels) and he teleports to them cause it’s not in the future or anything and traveling across both planes is harder

a split second after he gets there, he sees someting flying towards his head, he catches it mid air a few inches from his face, it’s a throwing knife.

like I said, Karl can’t just catch everything out of the air, but a throwing knife in a practice room when he just travelled so he has no headaches and his head is as clear as it could ever be, sure

so that’s not the surprising part, that honor belongs to the room he’s in. the Hive training room filled with every Hive member completely shocked (along with both his boyfriends who didn’t know he could do that)

he’s half tempted to jump away and come back before this happened, but he remembers what it was like keeping that secret from his boyfriends and all the weekend he spent trying to make sure they never saw him, and decides to let them all talk

a little while later, after telling them about his powers, but not mentioning the Inbetween or Otjer Side, or his whole eldritch parentage thing (something only his boyfriends know), and just saying he was born with it, and saying he will not become an official meme we of the Hive, he’s done

obviously people have questions, but he decides to answer them another day, and goes home

Slept says nothing, but remembers a story his mother told him when he was younger, something about a kid that could defy space and time, but that boy was dead and it would be a big problem if he were still alive

(Karl could theoretically control all of time, but he doesn’t want that)

you can add this this if you want, i’m just kinda obsessed with what i gave Karl for his story and you made it cannon, so yay!!!

anyway, sorry it’s long but i needed something to hold on to all day and this was it (ya know i normally like angst? but if it’s cannon it’s so much worse cause you can’t just go back to where it’s real and have everyone happy, you have to go to fanfiction, which is great but some part of me will always think of as fake)

yoooo these are all amazing!! Fast reflexes Karl my beloveddd <3

(Also, mood >< I can totally relate to your last statement lmao-)

#ttau #karl jacobs #ask #dino anon

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veliseraptor · 3 years

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because I have zero focus at all whatsoever lets just do another 150 words meme, it always helps I find

so! you know the drill. send me a number (or up to three) and I’ll write 150 words in that project. if you don’t know what something is, check the wip list, with the exception of one on here that isn’t there because it’s a pwp side fic for the if living can be this...collection. (i’m not going to call it a verse. i’m not.)

nine options, mostly xue yang nonsense, have fun.

1. “Any idea how far down it is?” Wei Wuxian asked. Jiang Cheng’s back seized up.

“No,” he snapped. Wei Wuxian gave him a wounded look.

“I was just asking,” he said. “It’s a reasonable question-”

“You were asking because you were trying to figure out if it made sense for me to drop you,” Jiang Cheng said. Wei Wuxian didn’t immediately argue, which made anger bubble up in Jiang Cheng’s chest. “I should drop you!” he said. “It’s a stupid idea.”

“If the cliff’s not stable,” Wei Wuxian said, naturally sounding full of that particular Wei-Wuxian confidence that always made Jiang Cheng feel certain that he knew what he was doing and had a plan.

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng said, disgusted. “I’m not too weak to hang on until I think of something better. I don’t want Lan-er-gongzi on the warpath because you were stupid enough to fall off a cliff.”

Wei Wuxian’s face did something and Jiang Cheng felt like he’d kicked himself in the teeth. (Slippage)

2. How does it work, he wrote on the ground.

Xue Yang made an exasperated noise. “You really want me to try to explain the theory? You’re not going to follow. And it’s experimental, anyway. I don’t actually know that it’ll work, just that it should.” He gave Song Lan a slash of a smile. “And I don’t exactly have any test subjects. Unless you want me to cut out someone else’s tongue and make them a fierce corpse-”

Song Lan’s fists clenched and he took a threatening step in Xue Yang’s direction. He barked a laugh. “Joking, Song-daozhang. So do you have a silver coin or not? Because if not then I need to get something else to work with.”

I want you to explain the theory.

Xue Yang glared at him. “Sure,” he said after a moment. “Fine, all right,” and he launched into a rapid-fire explanation that made sense for roughly the first two sentences and then veered off course, and shortly after that Song Lan was completely, irrevocably lost. He made a sharp gesture to indicate that he should stop and then wrote, slow down.

“It won’t matter if I do,” Xue Yang said. “I don’t know how to explain it to someone who doesn’t get it. It makes sense to me.”

It occurred to Song Lan that Xue Yang had probably never had to teach anyone anything, and might not be very good at it. (Walking Far from Home)

3. “This’s good,” Xue Yang said to the driver, and Xiao Xingchen said, “wait.”

Xue Yang turned in his direction and Xiao Xingchen finally just said, “do you have someplace you’re going to go when...when you have to leave here?”

Xue Yang just looked at him for a little while and then said, “fuck, Xingchen, usually I’d be happy for you to take me home and fuck me up but I think I’d just get blood on you and you don’t seem like the type to be into that.”

Before Xiao Xingchen could figure out a response Xue Yang was out of the car and walking - limping - away. Xiao Xingchen stared after him, mouth hanging a little open. (Redux)

4. “Sit down and shut up,” Xue Yang said, “and I’ll set your wrist for you. Doesn’t look like a full break, so if you brace it and don’t use it for a while you’ll be fine.”

A-Qing turned around. She looked both surprised and suspicious. Xue Yang waited for pragmatism to win out, and after a moment it did. She didn’t say anything, but she tapped her way over to the steps and sat down.

“Knew you had a half a brain in there,” Xue Yang said. He sat down next to her and went to work. Wasn’t like he didn’t know what he was doing, and if he wasn’t nice he could still be effective.

She screamed like a baby rabbit when he twitched her wrist back into line. He laughed at her. “Fuck,” he said. “You think that hurts? Baby.” (two faces, three knives)

5. “You look tense, Lianfang-zun. Are you tense? Don’t you want a break?”

It would be nice to have a break. He wasn’t going to get one. And even if he was, time spent with Xue Yang did not precisely qualify as relaxing. And the - relief he was offering–

“You could choke me again,” Xue Yang said. “I keep thinking about it. Your nice, pretty hands around my throat, squeezing. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve jerked myself off to that?”

Jin Guangyao’s body gave a small twitch of interest. He kept his expression pleasant. “I’m flattered.” (choke chain)

6. Xiao Xingchen had a unique and entirely inexplicable power. Xue Yang wasn’t sure if he was aware of it. He suspected he was.

It was like this. He could argue something with Song Lan (Song Zichen, when he was being a bastard) for hours on end and get nowhere, but Xiao Xingchen would step in with maybe a total of five words and that’d be it, argument over. Or Xue Yang would suggest something and Song Lan would be halfway to objecting and Xiao Xingchen would say “that sounds like a good idea” and that’d be that, no more objections.

It even worked on fucking a-Qing. (reconfiguration)

7. She returned to her rooms at the end of a very long day and nearly screamed to find Chengmei inside. He looked up at her when she came in and grinned, an expression she was rapidly becoming very familiar with.

“Jiejie,” he said. “I figured you’d come back here sooner or later and was just hoping a servant wouldn’t get here first. I’m not sure a body would fit under your bed.”

Jiang Yanli blinked, suddenly unsure that he was joking about that. “Then I guess it’s a good thing one didn’t,” she said. Chengmei laughed, visibly delighted by her response.

“You’re funny,” he said. “I’d probably kill someone for you if you wanted.” (this world is gonna break your heart)

8. Xue Yang stopped, beetle-wing eyes fixing back on her. Wen Qing forced her fingers to relax around the orange before she crushed it.

“What do you want,” she said.

“In general, or specifically from you?” Xue Yang asked. She didn’t dignify that with a response, but he laughed anyway. “I told you, Wen-daifu. I want to talk to you.”

“Why,” she pressed. “What is it you think I’m going to tell you?”

Xue Yang blinked innocently. “I don’t know,” he said. “But you’re such an interesting person. I definitely want to find out.” (fall apart, destroy, release)

9. He knew what was going to happen. He knew and he still couldn’t stop it. Stupid and helpless as ever, and he tried to channel qi toward his left arm to brace it for impact but the meridians from his wrist down had always been fucked up.

The bones didn’t crack so much as crunch.

He might’ve skipped a moment. Must’ve, because he was looking at his hand caught between the two beams and thinking, a little dizzily, what, once wasn’t enough? A laugh burbled up in his throat, caught in a strange bubble where he knew it hurt and knew it was going to hurt and knew he didn’t want to see what his hand looked like. He was going to have to, though. He was going to have to look at it and figure out how to…

He’d been lucky to have it heal enough to be usable once. Probably wouldn’t get that lucky a second time. (splinters)

#fic excerpt #meme #confessions of a frustrated writer #i gotta go make dinner #but yes i am basically collecting these for the left coastwards journey

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simply-trash5 · 3 years

Text

Running

Okay not even going to lie this was my favorite chapter to write and I REALLY hope you guys like it.

<3 Chapter Five

The week seemed to drag by. You wanted nothing more than for it to be Saturday so that you could see Lee again. You both were going to have a very busy week so you both decided that you wouldn’t hang out again until the date on Saturday. Just because you couldn’t see each other though didn’t mean that you couldn’t stay up till obscene hours playing dumb games or sending each other memes. You spent the week with your phone in your hand constantly and you kept finding yourself waiting to hear from Lee. He surprisingly texted you a lot, and seemed to be a huge fan of emojis.

He always sent you a good morning text, which usually had a meme accompanying it. These of course always made you smile. One night when you fell asleep while texting him you woke up at 3:00 A.M. to find your phone gripped in your hand. Just before you put it on the charger you saw that you had an unopened text from none other than Lee. The text read: “Good night Y/N. I really hope that you sleep well. I am really excited for our date on Saturday! :)” Even in your sleepy stupor you found yourself smiling and feeling the butterflies in your tummy flutter.

On Saturday morning you woke up bright and cheery at 8:00 A.M. as if you hadn’t been up till 3:00 doing homework. Despite only getting a few hours of good sleep you felt so rested and so excited. Today was the big date and you had absolutely no idea what Lee had decided on. You decided to text Lee first this time, telling him Good morning, and asking him what to wear on your date that night. He simply replied “Dress for fun. I’ll be there to get you at 6:00.”

For fun? What did that even mean? The day seemed to fly by and you questioned what you should wear for ‘fun’. You rummaged through your closet and finally decided on a deep purple bodysuit under ripped black skinny jeans. You added a denim jacket for warmth and a pair of black combat boots. The body suit hugged your curves and gave a nice amount of cleavage without being too revealing for your liking. You decided to wear your hair naturally with a black knit beanie because you had no idea what Lee had up his sleeve.

You didn’t hear much from Lee after the morning but that was okay with you. You were so nervous that you weren’t sure you would even be able to form responses to whatever he may say. By 5:15 you were completely ready and nervously scrolling through social media to pass the time. You checked on a few friends pages and even found yourself checking Lee’s feed to see if he had mentioned anything. At 3:00 that afternoon he posted a single smiley face and his dad liked it. You rolled your eyes thinking of how he must have looked crafting such an eloquent post.

At 6:00 you decided to head down to the front of the building to see if Lee had shown up. Right on time he was there scrolling through his phone in one hand and had the other placed strategically behind his back. When he heard you approach he beamed and put his phone in his pocket. Just from his smile alone you could feel your cheeks heat up.

“Y/N, you look so pretty. Oh, erm, I’m sorry. That was probably really weird and forward. Uh, I got you this.” He outstretched his arm and in his hand was a single pink daisy. The joy on your face told him everything he needed to know. He gave you a thumbs up, which he seemed to do often when he was happy.

You took the flower from Lee’s hand and gave him a huge hug. You both stood there for a minute in the embrace, this hug definitely felt different than your one from a week ago. There was something exciting and warm in this hug. You both stood back from each other, both blushing slightly. “So, Lee, what do you have planned for us?” you said excitedly.

“Ah, yes.” Lee began, “Well I have such a fun plan for us. Our first stop is a ramen shop downtown. Now here is my question for you, would you like to walk there or take the bus?” You thought for a minute and carefully weighed your options. He took your silence as a sign that you wanted to walk. “Lets go Y/N! I can’t wait for you to try this place!”

You and Lee walked the few blocks into downtown chatting and talking about your week. Lee talked about all of the tests he had this week and you talked about how you were completely over writing papers. Before long you both had made it to the shop. Lee held the door open for you as you both entered the small hole-in-the wall restaurant. You walked to the counter to order and you quietly whispered to Lee, “I’ve never had Ramen, what should I order?”

Lee looked at you in complete shock and then a look of determination washed over his face. “We will have two orders of the spicy ramen!” The gentleman behind the counter began to ring in your order. He talked with Lee as if he had known him forever. Lee introduced you to the man with a smile. The gentleman asked if you were Lee’s girlfriend which caused Lee to sputter and stammer. You told the man that you were on a date but you were friends. You would have never known it but Lee’s heart dropped a little at the mention of you being friends. Lee led you to a small table by the window where he continued to tell you about himself. You both laughed, ate, and talked for about an hour when Lee finally spoke up. “Well Y/N, we have a few more stops on our night of fun. Ready to go to our next location?” You laughed at how formally Lee was speaking and he gave you a bright smile in return.

Outside the restaurant you looked at Lee inquisitively. Lee looked down at you and gave you a wink. “So, Y/N, I thought you may want something sweet after dinner so I have just the place. Did you know that every saturday this month there is a town bonfire down by the river?” You gave Lee a surprised look with a smile. “I was thinking that maybe we could go make smores before our last stop. You know, just something sweet for the sweetest person I know.”

You blushed and giggled just a little. Once you realized how silly you must have looked you rolled your eyes with a smirk and punched Lee lightly on the arm. You weren’t fooling him though, he saw the way you turned pink at his little compliment and he thought it was one of the cutest things he had ever seen. His heart was beating just a little harder as you guys walked toward the river than ran through town. Once there you both had a blast making smores and sitting around the fire. You wondered how Lee had heard about this spot but instead of asking you just told him more about yourself. Lee checked his watch, the time read 8:00 and he began to stand from his spot. “Okay Y/N, I have one last stop for us. This may be the coolest one in my opinion.” He held out his hand to help you stand from the log where you were sitting. Lee’s hand was so warm and felt so nice wrapped around yours, you almost hated to let it go. Reluctantly you let go of Lee’s hand, not wanting to make your need for affection awkward for him.

Lee led you to a small bar in town, which made you question why you would be coming there. You never thought Lee was a drinker. Lee cleared his throat, “So you’re probably wondering why I brought you here. Well, one of my favorite local bands is playing here tonight and I think you would like them. We can obviously leave if you want, but I thought it would be fun!” You gave Lee a smile and a nod reassuring him that you wanted to go inside.

Once inside the bar you both walked toward the stage where the band was playing. There set had already began but you could tell that you really liked them already. You and Lee exchanged some glances and smiles throughout the first few songs until the band took a quick break. Lee went off to the bar and grabbed you both a beer. You both drank your beer and listened to the music. Lee was singing and dancing a little when it was a song he knew and before long you found yourself swaying along too. The band announced that they were going to be playing a stripped down version of one of their songs and encouraged the crowd to dance with a “special someone.” Lee’s cheeks began to turn a light shade of pink. He began to walk to a table to sit when you reached out your hand and grabbed his arm. Lee looked at you a little confused. You weren’t sure if it was liquid courage or your need to feel his arms around you but you asked him shyly if he would dance with you. Lee shook his head so violently that you thought it may fly off. You began to giggle at his goofy grin but stopped as soon as his large hands found your waist.

The next 3 minutes were the best part of the date so far. You two definitely danced like no one was watching. Neither one of you were sure how to dance with another person, but you gave your best shot at it. You two were still in each other’s arms long after the band had finished. Neither of you would have moved if the band hadn’t announced it was the last song of the evening. Lee leaned down and asked if you wanted to head back to campus and you gave him a nod.

Outside the wind was blowing lightly. The lights in the city seemed to glow even more with the cloudy sky. It was quiet in town as most of the nightlife was coming to a close. You two began your walk back to campus. You pulled your jacket a little tighter remarking about how chilly it was. Lee immediately reached his hand out for yours. You stared at his hand in shock for a few seconds before taking it. The feeling of Lee’s hand wrapped around yours made you feel so warm inside you would have thought it was summer. You were pulled out of your quiet thoughts by Lee. “Earlier I gave you a daisy. Do you know anything about flowers and their meaning?” You shook your head and said that you didn't. Lee cleared his throat and began to speak in a thoughtful tone, “The daisy is a symbol of new beginnings, specifically a pink daisy is sometimes seen as a symbol for new romantic feelings.”

Your mouth made a small o and you looked up at Lee with a sparkle in your eye. You two didn’t speak again till you got back to your building. You looked at Lee standing in front of you. He was so handsome and sweet; you were sure you had never met a better guy in your life. “Lee, I had a really great time tonight. Thank you for such a fun and thoughtful date. The flower was very thoughtful too.” Lee looked down at you with a small grin.

“Y/N I gave you that daisy because I wanted you to know how much I like you. Everyday I wake up and you’re the first thing on my mind. At night, before I go to sleep, you are the last thing I think of. I don’t mean to be forward, but I just wanted you to know how I feel.” Your eyes grew wide. Immediately Lee thought he had said the wrong thing. The corners of your mouth turned upward into a bright smile.

“Lee, I like you too, so much more than just a friend. You make me so happy. You’re an amazing man.” Lee’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink. Lee closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

“Y/N, can I kiss you?”, Lee asked bravely.

“Lee,” you began, “I’ve been waiting on this since the day you carried me up to my room. I would want nothing more.” Lee’s hands travelled to your cheeks and held your face tenderly. He leaned down to you and gave you a soft sweet kiss. Time stood still for just a minute and just like that it was over. When you both pulled away you both stared at each other with small grins on your face.

“Y/N, thank you for being you. I can’t wait to see you again,” Lee whispered in your ear as he gave you a tight hug. “Can I come see you tomorrow?”

You gave Lee a small peck on the lips in reassurance.

“It’s a date lover-boy.”

#rock lee x reader #rock lee #rock lee x you #rock lee x y/n #naruto #naruto au #naruto fluff #college au #naruto college au #rock lee fluff #anime fluff

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37pencils · 3 years

Text

The Baking Fiasco

Writer’s Note:This is a fluffy one-shot of the MBS, not the typical memes we normally post. The events in this story take place between the second and third books of the series. Thank you all for reading, I hope you enjoy.

Story under the cut

Reynie’s quiet footsteps were masked by the sound of pouring rain outside. It had been late at night, far too late to be considered reasonable, when a figure with strikingly blue eyes had roused him from his sleep. Apparently, the storm that had been going on for some time had awakened his friends with booms of thunder earlier that night, and they had decided that it was necessary to wake him as well.

“It was obvious we had to get you too,” Kate whispered as they carefully traversed the stairs by the light of her flashlight. “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

The two of them made their way downstairs and into the kitchen, where Constance and Sticky sat waiting. Sticky smiled and gently waved as they appeared in the doorway, still a bit tired from waking up at such an odd hour. Constance, on the other hand, simply grunted and rested her head on the table. Reynie smiled at the familiar and comforting sight of his friends, already happier from simply being around them. Reynie and Kate sat at the kitchen table, ready to discuss whatever topic happened to come up.

“How long have you guys been up?” Reynie asked, looking around at the three of them.

“Well, I got up first, then I found Sticky while I was walking around down here, and then we found Constance, nearly asleep standing up. So around 15 minutes, give or take,” Kate said, seemingly unaffected by waking up so early. She seemed as animated and lively as usual, hardly staying still in her seat.

“It isn’t my fault I look so tired…” Constance grumbled, her face still smushed into the table. “You try waking up at 12:30 in the morning when you’re 3 years old.” She yawned as she said this, only emphasizing her point.

“Yes, it seems we all gather together when we’re tired,” Sticky noted, gently readjusting his glasses. “We seem to be each other’s source of comfort.”

Reynie smiled at this, happy that his presence brought them happiness as theirs brought him happiness.

“Well, what should we do with this extra time we have?” Reynie asked, gesturing around him.

“We should do something for the adults,” Constance said, seemingly out of nowhere. “They’ve been stressed an awful lot lately, and I’m sure you guys can guess why.”

A small moment of silence was exchanged between them, reflecting on the danger that had not only brought them together, but had brought them to reside here, under this roof. They had been through a great deal of peril with one another. It was one of the reasons they were so close. Even now it seemed that danger was looming closely, waiting for a perfect opportunity to strike.

“Well...what would we even do?” Sticky inquired, hesitantly. “We don’t have enough time to do a deep clean of the house, and trying to do most other things to help make their day a bit easier would cause too much noise.”

“How about baking something for them?” Kate asked, grinning. “There are plenty of ingredients in the kitchen, since they just got groceries yesterday, and it wouldn’t be too loud if we’re careful!”

“That’s a good idea,” Reynie said looking around the kitchen thoughtfully.”But what should we bake? There are so many recipes to choose from.”

Kate quickly scurried up to a shelf in the kitchen where a cookbook resided, and began flipping through the pages.

“It should be something simple, something that’s easy to make but is delicious all the same. Any ideas?” Kate asked, looking at the three of them.

Constance piped up. “Mr. Benedict’s favorite treat is Snickerdoodle cookies, maybe we could make those. It should be on page 237 of the book you’re holding.”

Kate quickly flipped to the according page, and nodded thoughtfully. “This seems easy enough to make. Flour, sugar, cinnamon, cream of tartar… Yeah! We should be able to make these with plenty of time before the rest of the house wakes up.”

Kate assigned tasks to the group. Reynie would be in charge of gathering the ingredients, bowls, and measuring cups/spoons, Sticky would be in charge of measuring the ingredients and pouring them in, she would be in charge of stirring, and Constance would be the taste-tester to make sure the recipe was going smoothly. Everyone agreed to the roles assigned to them, and they began to work. The kitchen began to warm up with the heat from the oven and the happy voices of the four working together. Soon, each one of them was covered in flour and laughing as they kept working. After thorough testing, they had deemed the dough fitting to be baked into cookies. They carefully rolled the small balls of dough in cinnamon sugar and placed them into the baking sheets.

The cookies were placed into the oven, and the dishes were put into the sink. The four of them headed to the living room and sat on the couch, talking and laughing, much happier than when they had woken up. As they talked they grew more and more tired, and eventually they fell asleep, cuddling closely on the couch.

Reynie immediately knew something was wrong when he smelled the faint scent of smoke. His eyes shot open and he dashed to the kitchen, causing his friends to stir from their sleep as well. Black smoke had begun to rise out of the oven, likely from the cookies that had been placed within it an hour before. Reynie quickly turned the oven off and opened it. Smoke poured out of the oven, leaving two sheets of black, burnt lumps that were meant to be cookies. They hadn’t been in the oven long enough to set on fire, thankfully, but the cookies were certainly no longer edible. He donned a pair of oven mitts and carefully lifted out the baking sheets.

Kate, Constance, and Sticky ran to the kitchen as well, and immediately knew what was wrong. Reynie sighed as he looked at the burnt cookies. They were meant to be something special for everyone, and they had been ruined. It was obvious from the expressions on his friends’ faces that they felt the same way.

“Well, c’mon,” Kate said, opening some of the windows just a crack to let the smoke out, “We can always try again, can’t we?”

Her unwavering positivity made everyone feel better, if only a little. The group of them began to work to clean up the mess, waiting for the cookies to cool to throw them away. They were about to do just that when Mr. Benedict walked into the kitchen,a rather surprised expression on his face. The four of them began to sputter out rushed explanations and excuses as to why A)they were up so early and B)why the whole kitchen smelled of smoke, when he began to laugh. His laugh, so very similar sounding to dolphin speech, was bright and lighthearted, making it obvious he wasn’t upset with them, but thought it rather funny. The four of them relaxed when they understood he was not upset with them. When he eventually gained control of his laughter, he addressed them kindly.

“Thank you for working so hard to do something kind for us,” he said, smiling at them earnestly.”I appreciate the time and effort you put into your baked treats, even if they didn’t quite turn out as you hoped they would. I have an idea,” he said, gesturing toward the kitchen. “ Let’s try one more time. You’ll likely have a bit more help this time around, as the smell also woke up Number Two, Rhonda, and Milligan. No doubt soon enough the house will be up and lively,filled with the voices and excitement of a Saturday morning. But perhaps,if we work quickly, we can finish the cookies in time for everyone to wake up to them. What do you say?” he asked, smiling toward the four of them.

They agreed that this was indeed a good idea, and worked to fetch the recipe once again, cleaning off the baking sheets as well as the bowls and measuring cups/spoons, and got all of the ingredients back out again. Number Two, Rhonda, and Milligan soon after joined them downstairs as well, helping out where they could. They decided to make a quadruple batch, as the normal recipe didn’t make nearly enough cookies to satisfy everyone in the household. Eventually, the kitchen was once more filled with the gentle laughter and pleasant chatter of those who happily worked within it.

Eventually, the rest of the residents of the house woke up to the sweet scent of homemade cookies, and to a bright, happy scene within the kitchen. The morning was spent eating cookies, talking, laughing, and listening to the gentle patter of rain from the storm. Constance sat on Mr. Benedict’s lap as he told stories and jokes. Kate cuddled with Milligan as they smiled and laughed together. Reynie, Miss Perumal, and Miss Perumal’s mother drank tea and talked with one another, laughing and smiling in each other’s warmth. Sticky and Mr. and Mrs. Washington embraced one another and talked quietly but sincerely to each other. Rhonda and Number Two chattered back and forth, occasionally saying something to make the other burst into laughter. By mid-morning, the storm had cleared up to reveal a bright sunny day, as well as the sweet smell that always occurs right after it rains.

By noon that day, every face in the household was beaming with joy.

The end.

#mysterious benedict society #the mysterious benedict society #kate wetherall #sticky washington #reynie muldoon #constance contraire #milligan wetherall #trenton lee stewart

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ladyxxdaydream · 3 years

Text

a year-in-review meme - for writers!

I thought up this writing meme for fic writers who might have been staring at the artists having their lovely and well-deserved collages of their work through the year - and wanted to join in the fun! also this works as a great reminder for those of you (and me) who’ve been thinking that they haven’t been writing as much as they want to, and allows you to go back to enjoy your old fic ;D

Rules: pick your favourite sentence from a work you posted / wrote during a month of 2020! if you didn’t write anything in any particular month, don’t worry! tell us what you were doing or use it as free space for runner-up sentences. after that, tag 8 people or more to do the meme!

That being said, here’s mine:

Tagged by: @rikacain !!

I’m tagging -- @flailinginlove @aviss @kiitsvne @stupidbadgers and @tea-blitz who doesn’t use tumblr anymore but WHATEVER. and anyone else who wants to do it! <3

~~~

JAN: (from Heavy Weight)

“Iruka felt Kakashi’s eye on him. Most people feared the Sharingan, and for good reason, but Iruka feared his real eye, his own eye. It had a way of seeing straight past Iruka’s defenses, no dōjutsu required, and deep into his soul.“

FEB: (from Old Pine)

“Do you want children?” Iruka asked, feeling like the timing was right.

Kakashi was quiet for a few moments. Iruka had learned to read Kakashi’s silences for what they were. It wasn’t hesitation like he had initially thought. Kakashi simply liked to think things through before answering immediately. Iruka liked that about him.

“I think we have four already,” Kakashi said, eyeing Sasuke, Naruto, Ino, and Sakura through the glass door.

Iruka laughed, but refrained from clarifying. He knew Kakashi understood what he meant and would answer him shortly. Iruka had also learned that Kakashi had a tendency to be indirect, before he got around to what he actually wanted to say.

MARCH: (from Mouthful)

“So, Kakashi.” Iruka said, unable to stand still any longer. “We both like what we see. Now what?”

He wasn’t usually this forward, but he was feeling it tonight. All of this playful banter was riling him up—it was his favorite way to flirt.

“I like a man whose direct,” Kakashi said, shifting his stance to lean an elbow on the table. “But hmm,” he hummed. “I don’t know.”

He gave Iruka a seemingly bored look, as if the obvious invitation to leave together was lost on him.

“Well, I like a man whose decisive, so I guess that rules you out.”

Kakashi let out a hard, surprised laugh. He downed the rest of his beer, and took Iruka by the hand, pulling him out of the bar without a word.

APRIL: (from A New Chapter)

“I don’t know how to put this,” Sakumo started, “but… what the hell is that?”

Kakashi looked at where his Father was pointing.

“Uh… a diaper…?” Kakashi guessed, not sure where this was going. They had about a million others, in every color and pattern you could imagine, folded and stacked in the closet. Iruka wanted to go the re-usable route, and several of his students mother’s were eager to gift them. Kakashi had been less than thrilled by the extra laundry.

“Yes. It’s a diaper, Kakashi. Very good. Tell me, did you have both eyes closed when you put it on?”

MAY: (From Cake Substitution No Jutsu)

“What’s this?” Iruka asked as Kakashi entered the kitchen, a fully dressed Tomo whizzing past them both.

“Ah, it’s a backpack,” Kakashi said, crossing over to Iruka excitedly. “I saw it on display in a shop window while doing Gai’s scavenger hunt. Its arms and legs are the straps, so when you wear it, it looks like it’s riding on your back.”

Iruka smiled, turning it around in his hands, noticing the zipper and a few pockets.

“That’s actually pretty ador—”

Iruka stopped speaking. The tail was tightly curled up inside plastic casing still.

“Kakashi,” Iruka said, feeling his eyebrow twitch. “Is this… is this a leash?”

“No. It’s a Puppy Pal… with an exceptionally long tail.”

“It’s a leash,” Iruka deadpanned. “A leash for a child.”

“You put Tomo inside a barrier the other day as a playpen,” Kakashi said, a matter of factly. “Why can’t I have some help controlling her?”

“That’s… that’s different!” Iruka exclaimed, feeling his cheeks heat in contradiction. “Would you like it if I put you on a leash, Kakashi?”

Iruka regretted it the second it came out of his mouth. He could practically see the wolfish grin forming beneath Kakashi’s mask.

JUNE: (from Use Your Imagination)

They laid in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the night through the cracked window—distant cars on the street, a lone dog barking, upbeat music wafting from a floor below them.

Kakashi never wished for time to stop. In fact, he tried to keep himself as busy as possible—he chose a career that ate up most of his life for a reason. But right now? He wished time didn’t exist, hyperaware of how quickly it would pass before Iruka was back on a plane tomorrow.

He traced circles into Iruka’s lower back, watching as the brown skin pressed against his broke out in a wave of goosebumps. Iruka shivered, and then shifted, and Kakashi wondered if he was falling asleep.

He selfishly continued his adorations, wanting to keep Iruka in this realm with him for a little while longer. He expanded his rake, sliding his fingers up Iruka’s spine, skirting around his scar, and back down again.

Kakashi wasn’t one to believe in divine intervention, or soulmates. He’d acted in enough corny films to almost make him hate the notion entirely. But the fact that a man as perfect as Iruka had come into his life so serendipitously—and just as scarred as he was—was something he couldn’t overlook.

It made Kakashi’s heart ache with want, before that ache traveled down, and curled into his gut.

JULY: (from Love Me As You Are)

“And then you demeaned their lives by calling them your soldiers—”

“—is that not what they are?!” Kakashi cut across him, getting upset. “You’re as much a part of this system as I am, sensei! We both know the truth of it, whether we like it or not. I just called it by it’s name.”

“But they’re people too, Kakashi! Kids. They’re so much more than soldiers…”

“That’s not how I was treated,” Kakashi said before he could catch himself.

Iruka’s mouth fell open with a punched sound.

“Kakashi…”

His tone was soft and free of the anger it held a moment ago.

“Forget I said that,” Kakashi said, turning away, his cheeks heating up—the last thing he wanted was Iruka’s pity. “It doesn’t matter.”

“No,” Iruka said, shaking his head as he took a step towards him. “I’m not going to forget you said that. It does matter because you matter. You deserved to have somebody stand up for you too, Kakashi. I’m so sorry Konoha failed you.”

Kakashi’s eyes burned with tears—he bit his tongue, refusing to let them fall. Those words pierced him straight through the heart. It was everything he never knew he needed to hear.

AUG:

um I didn’t write anything this month because my wife and I separated annnd my whole life was uprooted as I moved to a different country ksjdhgkdsj

SEPT: (from I’ll Fall, If You Do)

Their relationship was going really well. There were days where Kakashi still turned him away, usually corresponding with the mornings he had therapy. It was frustrating, because Iruka just wanted to be there for him, for Kakashi to open up to him completely, but he didn’t push. He knew that would only make it worse. They didn’t fight anymore, but Iruka regularly had to correct the language Kakashi used towards himself, and sometimes it was irritating for the both of them.

But mostly… it was amazing. Their chemistry was incredible. Electric. And not just in the bedroom—they were never far from each other, drawn in like magnets, grounded by a simple touch or brush of hands. Kakashi hadn’t even left the room twenty minutes ago, and already Iruka felt the pull.

He jumped up from his seat and went to go find him.

OCT: (From Language Gap)

Iruka glanced out the bus window, his body instinctively knowing where they were about to pass. The building was still empty twenty years later, the brick still scorched, and Iruka’s nightmares were still plagued by the fire despite not being there when it broke out. He’d been sent on a delivery on foot — one steaming container of karē udon — two blocks away. He delivered to the same old lady everyday, and she always kept him longer than necessary, pressing sweets into his palm. When he had come back, the noodle shop was aflame. In his shocked state, he distantly heard something about a grease fire, before he was whisked away by the hand by his childhood friend Asuma, living with him and his father from that day on.

Iruka sighed and stood up, making his way towards the door since his stop was next. He really wished the city would do something about the building. Every time he saw it, it made him feel oddly exposed and vulnerable, like his past was staring straight at him.

He shook his head a little and stepped off the bus.

NOV: (From Brand New Sound)

Kakashi watched in stunned silence for a moment, trying to get his heartbeat under control as color effortlessly flowed from the artist’s hand onto the brick. Whoever this was, they had sort of become one of Kakashi’s heroes. People always said meeting your heroes was never a good idea—bound to be disappointing—because it brought them down to a human level.

But that was precisely what attracted Kakashi to this artist in the first place—the sheer, raw, humanness. The way they tackled hard emotions and vulnerability, baring everything through their work for others to see. It was honest and transformative, and Kakashi spent more nights than he could ever count wandering the streets when he couldn’t sleep, hoping to catch a mural he’d never seen before it was painted over. Sometimes he did, and sometimes he’d sit in front of ones he already knew and found new meaning in them.

DEC: (from Perks of Promotion)

“But why now?” Iruka insisted. “Why ask me out now? Right after I’ve made tokubetsu jounin? When we’ve known each other for years?”

Oh.

Kakashi paused, the realization dawning on him. He didn’t blame Iruka for being suspicious of his intentions; he’d heard the way people said ‘the chuunin sensei’ or ‘the chuunin desk worker’ like it was some kind of insult. It always pissed him off.

Kakashi stared at his feet for a moment before lifting his head again, leveling Iruka with a serious stare. “Because I didn't think I’d live past 21. Because it took me an obscenely long time to become a barely functioning adult. Because I never had the guts before… I-I still don’t, not really, if you can’t tell by how much I’m fumbling around here,” he said with a nervous laugh.

#kakairu #my fic #hatake kakashi/umino iruka #this is VERY long #i dont expect ppl to read it lmao #but it was really fun #*sweats* yeah i picked one sentence.....#also WOW #i published something every month (sometimes twice!!)#except for august #which is... understandable #this was a really cool idea #thanks for tagging me rika :D #writer meme

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icedcappujaeno · 4 years

Text

twist | lty

➩ pairing: gamer/barista taeyong & reader ➩ genre: (extreme dosage of) fluff ➩ words: 5k ➩ warnings: too much fluff. handle uwus with care.

a/n: OH LOOK. ICEDCAPPUJAENO’S POSTING A FIC AGAIN?! I thought it was a meme blog--!! Hell yes I am! Supposedly this fic was going to be posted last Christmas (I gave you my heart-?) but we had to go out-of-town to celebrate the holidays, thus no proofread and all but voila! I present to you, my gift to everyone on this site who’s been with me all throughout 2019! I know I haven’t been the best in posting my works now and then but please don’t blame me, I got the job that I wanted so it kept me busy and I’m a person that would prefer career over hobbies most of the time. But yes, anyway, enough being sappy, thank you so much for everything and please look forward to more works in the upcoming year!

It's never too late for a really big plot twist for you and player rubbiesyong.

Christmas — the season of joy, the season were everyone would momentarily forget conflicts and be giving, the season to be jolly.

Everyone in the dorms already left to come home for the holidays, but not you. Not with the burden of a thesis, the expensive amount of plane tickets, the hassle of being stuck in a crowd in airports — you decided to stay in your dorm, alone, yet maybe, this was another experience you’ve yet to face.

However, it wasn’t as joyful and breathtaking as you thought.

Being scooped up in the dorm was most likely the most boring experience you had—and the motivation to complete your thesis chapters was downright zero. The weather isn’t cooperating as well: the low degrees and negatives making you wrap yourself in a blanket and stay under its warm covers, along with some Netflix.

But at some point, you got tired of watching.

Four days into the holiday season the app was already boring you. Thus, you mindlessly searched for games - the hobbies you once enjoyed when you were younger. Any genre was fine, although there was a magnet between you and MMORPGs. Searching for one, and alas - a free to play with good reviews appeared, downloading the installer not a minute after.

As soon as you installed the game into your laptop, the dialogue box said it would take around 5 hours. With that, for the first time that day, you looked at the time - 3 minutes past 2 o’clock. A low growl came from your stomach, it was no surprise as you’ve only been eating chips and coffee since you woke up. With a stretch, you rose from the bed, trying to beat the lazy syndrome that’s gotten to you.

You hissed as your feet pressed flat to the cold floors. To be honest, you don’t want to leave the bed, however, your back already started to feel some pain from lying all day. You got up, trotted your way to the bathroom and washed. Once done, you fished the coat, gloves, and scarf, and bag from behind the door, leaving your laptop open while the game installs.

The cafe bell that hung loosely on the glass door rang as Taeyong entered, the warm breeze brought by the heater comforting his near numb senses from the cold wind outside. Even with the low temperature, Taeyong decided to open the shop even he thinks that the customers won’t come to this kind of weather. It was a tough decision from him, especially the part where he decides to get up from bed, an addition would be texts from his baristas that they’ll pass work for today.

But the cafe work attracted him like a magnet, even if he was up staying up all night playing a game. Nevertheless, if he did reach half the quota for today, he’d close up, snuggle into the warmth of his blanket once again, lost in the virtual reality his game would bring.

Time passed quickly in the cafe, and when Taeyong looked up the wall clock, it was almost past 2, and while he didn’t reach half the quota of the day, Taeyong decided it was time to close up. Looking outside, it seemed like the weather isn’t clearing up any time soon. A grunt escaped from his lips as he stretched, his back and butt aching from almost sitting all day.

As he was about to reach for his cleaning tools, the bell rang, signaling an entrance of a customer. A smile automatically waved through his lips, a manner he got out of habit.

“Hello, welcome to our shop.”

The walk to the nearest cafe was tedious: the icy path made it quite hard to balance and the chill breeze hitting your cheeks wasn’t helping at all. Your lips are chapped brought by the cold wind, thus making you hiss as you enter the warmth of the shop.

Though the heat from the cafe was comforting, the slit you made from trying to remove the skin from your chapped lips stung. You didn’t even hear the barista greet you—going straight to the counter without even minding the polite gesture from the staff.

“Caramel macchiato, and a slice of banana bread.”

“Are you okay? Your lip is bleeding.”

You touched your lip in reflex, for a moment your eyes widened at the sight of red within your fingertips. You were about to fish for the handkerchief from your pocket, but when nothing came to your senses, you bite your lip—hissing as you made the wound even worse, tasting the irony substance within your palate.

He hands you a tissue, and to be honest, you almost forgot about the barista in front of you. You looked up to thank him, noticing his sharp features—his brows were thick and manly, the shape of his jaw carved in an almost perfect sculpture. Although skinny, he looked so menacing, but when he showed you the softest smile you’ve ever seen—the intimidating aura blew away. His eyes started to grow a little bigger in your vision, pursed lips as he tried to suppress the laughter coming.

“So, it’s a caramel macchiato, and a slice of banana bread, correct?”

He chuckled, a low vibrato heartily coming from his as he punched your order in. He asked for your name and you answered rather immediately. And if you weren’t embarrassed enough after the scenario, your stomach growled once again, and the urge to run away to avoid further shame from the cute guy was spiking.

“Is banana bread enough?” He asked, very amused with the situation.

“Yeah. It is.”

He hummed, telling you to take a seat as he prepares your order. You did as told, sitting on the closest chair next to the counter. You watch him work behind—and you have to admit that encountering a cute barista like him, in winter, was a scenario you’d only imagine in dramas and fiction, it was surreal. The fact that someone this good looking exist was beyond your comprehension.

Needless to say, you developed this tiny, tiny, bitsy crush on this guy.

You turned to look around the shop: you ordered here before but most of the time, you ordered your coffee to go before going to the university. With the rush, you never noticed the cozy atmosphere that lingers on its surroundings—an LP player on the side, a touch of antiquity that brings some unique features for the shop. It emits a calming aura that reminds you of home.

It seemed like you found a new place to stay.

“Caramel macchiato, and a plate of carbonara with garlic bread on the side,” you hear the barista say that broke your reverie, along with the clink of the utensils when it collided with the glass table. The pasta’s smell was inviting, but pretty sure that you only brought enough money for a slice of bread and a cup of coffee.

Incredulously, you declined his offer, polite enough to let a smile pass your lips. “I didn’t order it…”

“Taeyong,” he finishes your sentence, although it was not what you had in mind. “It’s on the house.”

You gulped, looking at him foolishly for a moment, then pushed the plate away while standing up to only get the warm coffee cup. “I’m not that hungry…”

As if on cue, your stomach growled once more.

You groaned, face flushing from another embarrassment brought by your involuntary body actions. Taeyong laughed this time, not just a giggle, rather a hearty one that made his eyes crinkle in delight, showing the molars and fangs that made him look like a lion cub.

“Eat up. You need it.”

He said as he gently pushed you back to your seat with your shoulders. “I’d be disappointed if you’d decline my offer.”

With the aroma of the food in front of you and the request of the cute barista-slash-waiter of this cafe, you submitted. Whole-heartedly. Taeyong never left your side as you took the first bite, and when you hummed in satisfaction of how great it tasted, a smile plastered on his lips.

“This is good Taeyong!”

He shrugged, and you feel smug in his aura as he did the action.

“Expected. Now, finish that up so I can close up.”

You didn’t need any reminder. There was nothing on your plate as you finished the food.

Your stay at the cafe took longer than expected. The initial plan was to order take out and stay at home, watch some Netflix again as you wait for the game to download. But once you took a peek at your laptop, the game was done and ready to play.

Once you pressed the button, a young woman, elegant and pristine in her frilly dress, welcome you to the virtual world. She was all smiles when she made the entrance cue, and let you decide the class you want to main. You spent a few minutes in the tutorials and customization, and when you feel your neck ache from numbness and eyes strained, you stopped, satisfied with the character on the screen.

The first quests were easy—making you lose track of the time. Not with how your character seemed to be enjoying to slay the demons and monsters in the game, time passed by so quickly that it was past dinner when you glanced at the clock. You stretched your arms, forcing yourself to get up to get dinner, starting by boiling water in the kettle pot to make instant ramen.

Thirteenth day on your vacation.

Character? Leveled up. Accessories included an armor that boosted defense. The headdress that increases magic. The staff that was initially without power now holds ice magic.

Thesis? Still on the same page.

You sighed. This wasn’t part of the holiday plan. Initially, you were going to finish your paper after Christmas, have it revised and to be submitted before the new term starts. But here you are, sitting on your study table, but no word applications opened, nor any site with related literature. Instead, the whole screen was engulfed in bright colors, your character (fully armed, by the way) smiled at you while she stands while you’re on AFK.

When you glance at the time, it was fifteen minutes past five. You called in for pizza, and after the beep, there was contemplating between your thoughts: should I finish at least ten pages of my paper, or wait until my order arrives and start doing work after eating?

You sighed. The former was a better option (in terms of productivity), to say the least. At least you’re starting.

But as you were about to log out, a bubble appeared on the side of the screen.

Hey.

The bubble flashed, signaling a personal message.

It was from player rubbiesyong . That dude who helped you during a difficult mission; as you presumed—but turns out you got lost with a fork and went to the high-ranking road instead. Player rubbiesyong slew all the enemies, and even though you are trying your best to keep him alive by healing, it seemed like you were only there for the cheer and tickles.

Heya ruby!

You typed back, a nickname you gave to him as calling him with his full username was kind of a hassle.

You up for a short quest? I need a hand with some as well as my daily.

Oh shit.

You bit your lip. The offer was tempting, but since rubbiesyong messaged, the decision was changed into the latter: doing your paper after eating pizza for dinner. However, with the circumstances—truly, it was stressing. The temptation is there, and deep in your heart and mind you wanted to keep playing but the obligations and guilt of finishing your work were making your heart heavy.

As you were typing your reply, you see a notification that says rubbiesyong is in-game. His character spawned next to yours, all in his glorious armor.

Sorry...gotta do some work first...maybe next time?

You don’t see his reply for a while, and while you were waiting, the doorbell rang. It was the pizza delivery guy, and once the food was paid, you slide your laptop away from a little to the side to have space for your food. When you thought everything was set, you sat back down, feeling the warmth of the chair against your bottoms once more. Ruby replied to your message.

Damn. But that’s okay. I understand.

It’s only virtual, you thought, but you can’t help but feel guilty with a slight pang of the chest. Although you’ve only known this person for days, it was as if you knew each other for a long time. Even though you’re only doing quests in the virtual world, with how he helped you leveled up and gave tips soften your emotions.

There is a living person behind rubbiesyong , and although you know how dangerous it is to trust someone you met online, talking to him was comfortable. You already considered him as a friend.

I guess I’ll see you later then.

You sighed and bite your lip. Your anxiety levels were rising as you stared longer at his reply. No emoji? He’s disappointed. Before munching on pizza, you replied to his short farewell.

If I get this done I’ll come ASAP hehe. Wait for meee!! With the emphasis on the triple ‘e’. Somehow, there was guilt in your chest, mainly because of leaving a friend, and partly because you want to play badly.

Alright ^_^

He replied, and this time with an emoji that lessened your worry. A smile crept to your lips, anticipation with finishing your work for you to set yourself into the virtual world.

Brb!! Enjooooooy and see ya later! :)

It was half-past eight when you glance to your desk clock, the pizza box now empty along with the 2 mugs of coffee you made for yourself. You managed to finish what you ought to do, thankfully, but not leaving a sore back and strained eyes from staring at the computer screen for a very long time, with only trips to the restroom as breaks. You cleaned your mess but not before taking a sip of water.

When you returned to your desk, a sigh escaped your lips. Ruby is probably offline by now. Who would wait for long hours for a stranger? He’s probably resting by now, in his bed, maybe with warm cocoa…

You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t imagine how Ruby would look like, but for sure he’s a guy as you asked in the early stages of your meeting to make sure the pronouns you’ll use are spot on. The assumption was there, ranging from good to bad, however, it isn’t bad to dream that he’s quite the good-looking fella, right? It was inevitable as his character looked so clean and fresh, so you’d imagine he’d look the same—but as they say, don’t keep your hopes up. You try to keep it away from mind.

You logged in-game, and to no surprise, player rubbiesyong is offline.

Although it was expected, the notification brought you a heavy heart. Playing with Ruby is always exciting, but what can you do? The banters were always fun, most especially when you two role-play with each other’s role. The priestess, who met a swordsman on the way, bickering as they do adventures together. It was in this virtual world that you can feel genuine happiness somehow, that is why you look forward to every game with him.

With a heavy heart, you go on with your daily quest alone.

Two days later, you found yourself sitting in the cafe where you encountered Taeyong, but the barista was different for today. Frankly, you were hoping for Taeyong—somehow he made you feel comfortable, a feeling that would equate like home. Although you only met him once, the atmosphere he radiated was warm like the confines of your room, but for the most part, you kinda feel guilty for the pasta he gave you as you’re not the type to owe favors, so you’re to return the favor.

Not only that, for today, the agenda was to finish at least chapter three and prepare a presentation for your upcoming defense. The game was left untouched for the time being as you were trying to make up for the lost time you spent playing games. You were so immersed in your paper that you didn’t notice Taeyong coming in, although not dressed for work. He immediately noticed your slouched figure and the cup of coffee beside your laptop, so dangerously close that a little, leaning mistake would spill over your desk.

A hand pushed your coffee cup away from your laptop, and you were about to spare a glare but you see Taeyong’s toothy grin. He was dressed casually: you noticed how odd the mix in his fashion taste but it fits him either way.

“Good morning, Ms. Caramel macchiato,” the grin never leaving his lips. “I see you’re working hard even on the holidays.”

Baffled by his use of nicknames, you chuckled. “I am, good sir. I see it’s your off today.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged, then took his coat off his shoulders as the warmth of the cafe started to seep into the fabric of his clothing. “Mind if I join you?”

“I would be lying if I said no, because I badly need to finish my agenda for today and you distracting me isn’t a great idea.”

Taeyong momentarily stopped as you were speaking. He looked at you quite a few seconds after you talked, then blinked almost comically. He never expected for you to blurt out like that, but then, when he glanced at the screen of your laptop, it was quite understandable as to why you’re acting as such. His eyes started to roam around to find a vacant seat, or he could always hang out in the staff office.

“Oh, Uhm, sorry. I’ll just take another-”

“But a company is great,” he heard you say, and when he glanced back at you, you were sipping your coffee, eyes glued to the computer screen. You then looked at his back with a raised brow. “You didn’t let me finish.”

What a strange fellow, indeed. Taeyong thought and was about to retort back when his co-worker behind the counter called him. He excused himself, telling you that he’ll be back in a minute. Honestly, you could care less, but the kick of the caffeine was needing you to move your lips, hence the disappointment was washing your features. You hid it with a smile though and sent him off, going back to the paper you’re working on.

And true to his word, Taeyong did come back, two cups of steaming drink in his hand. He placed them on the table, pushing one to your side. It was chamomile tea.

“Yours.”

“It’s not in the house, is it?”

“It is,” he chuckled, sitting on the seat opposite of yours. The scent from the tea was inviting, although you’re not much of a tea person. Taeyong seemed to notice this and pointed towards the cup. “It will help you relax.”

“Biscuits, as ordered,” you hear the barista say as he carefully placed the tray of assorted biscuits on your table. Taeyong thanked the guy, and while you were so focused on the cute animal-shaped biscuits, you failed to notice the smirk growing on the barista’s lips. He gave Taeyong a quick nudge to which he shooed him off quietly, making the barista leave but without suppressing a peal of silent laughter.

“You’re paying for this, Taeyong. I don’t have enough allowance anymore.”

“I am,” he laughed, and the way his lips widely stretch that showed his pearly whites and the eyes crinkling reminded you of a baby fox. You can’t help but laugh along as it was contagious, and never have you felt comfortable in the presence of another person in a long time.

“Sorry, I know I’m distracting you. So I’ll just sit down and behave quietly while you work.”

“No, it’s fine,” stretching your arms was almost as relaxing as you were slouched for hours now. “I need someone to keep me sane. The words are already jumbling-look,” you turned your laptop screen to him. “The grammar is everywhere, all I can see are red lines.”

He laughed, once again, and to be honest, every time he does, you were becoming more and more infatuated. “Alright, I’m Taeyong and here to keep you sane.”

You giggled. People like these are genuinely rare these days. Your instinct also seemed to like him, as normally you’d be avoiding these situations as much as possible. But, for the one who gave you free pasta when you were starving and now, free tea and biscuits? How can you be so wary of such a guy?

“If you don’t mind me asking,” he started, and your gaze shifted to him as he trailed off his question. You nodded as you took a sip of the now-warm chamomile tea, urging for him to continue his query. “What do you do?”

You put the cup down and tell about yourself. That you are a full-time graduate student and working as a part-time assistant professor at the university. In your field, although there are holidays, your principal investigator will roast you if you haven’t done anything over the holidays- where is the data? Have you thought of another problem already? - cute phrases that your principal investigator will ask you. He seemed to be so interested that a question led to another, and that when you glanced at the clock of your screen, two hours had already passed and nightfall was about to come as it was getting dark outside.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, I took most of your time.”

Taeyong said, and his tone sounded so concerned and genuinely apologetic. You shake your head with a smile, putting back your laptop inside your bag and taking one last of the biscuit on the table.

“It’s really fine, Taeyong! I enjoyed it as well, plus, I told you I needed a break. That’s exactly what I needed,” you chuckled. “So thank you.”

“Sure, always here to help,” he mirrored your reaction as a light chuckle escaped from his. “Anyway, is it okay if I asked your number? I mean, you don’t need to, just, you know, if you need someone to talk to-”

You laughed at how he stuttered, lightly hitting his shoulder with how stupidly cute he looked. Of course, who would miss an opportunity to get a number of a cute guy? Not you. So you asked for his phone and vice versa, both of you satisfied with your goodbyes as your numbers were saved directly in your contacts.

You also never missed the opportunity to hit the button favorite upon his contact details.

Going to the cafe became a habit, and time passes so quickly that you didn’t notice that it was the 24th of December already: the sign on the cafe door the only thing that reminded you of the day.

You sighed. And you were even looking forward to the coffee, pastries, and Taeyong’s company. His presence and the coffee he brought seemed to boost your efficacy—you finished your due papers in time, and today was going to be a break, but with the locked door and closed blinds, the plan was ruined. Along the way home, you ordered a small cake for yourself, and a bottle of red wine for later’s celebration.

Going home was the only option, and when you’re back at the comforts of your duvet, you opened your laptop, log on to the virtual world. The usual, with a smile, your character greeted you. At the very least, you’re happy. Maybe in another world, but it’s all good.

You started clicking on the quests on the side of the screen. Spending the Christmas online sounded lonely, but celebrating it alone outside—just the thought of it makes you shudder for it was freezing, and walking nor eating along on the eve of Christmas will earn you pitiful stares. You stood up and boiled water to make hot cocoa, a perfect drink to accompany your online adventures. And who said it was lonely? The lobby was full of online players publicly chatting and greeting everyone a Merry Christmas! , and of course, although alone but with the spirit, you greeted them back as well.

The first quest was not so bad, it was only delivering some goods to one NPC to another. The second one wasn’t so bad either—slaying low levels monsters in the forest nearby. However, the third quest, unbelievably, was consuming your time. The former only took around 30 minutes each, but an hour has passed and you’re still stuck: escort this NPC to the palace without him dying from bandits along the way.

rubbiesyong is now online.

The notification never failed to catch your attention, and genuinely surprised. There was an assumption that Ruby is the type to spend Christmas with his loved one: may it be family or friends—there was an aura behind his character that radiates. You haven’t been online for days finishing your paper, and how badly you want to greet him a Merry Christmas, but wouldn’t it be awkward? The thought crossed your mind, but another notification bubble popped on the side of your screen.

rubbiesyong: Merry Christmas!

A smile crept on your lips, anxiety decreasing as you replied a Merry Christmas! back.

rubbiesyong: Haven’t seen you for days, busy?

You replied with a yes. You wanted to tell him everything that happened in the past few days, though you know it isn’t an obligation, and you were too lazy to type.

rubbiesyong: I see.

rubbiesyong: mind if I join you? Bored to death lmao

A sigh of relief came through, and there were no options as you desperately want to finish this never-ending quest you’re stuck on (which you weren’t supposed to be, you are just a noob).

Not a minute later, Ruby joined your group, his character stood side of yours. You explained the quest you’re currently doing, and it seemed like he was typing something so long that the group chat was continuously showing rubbiesyong is typing… notification.

rubbiesyong: can we voice chat instead? It’s too long to type haha

Voice chat.

Honestly, it was a thing you avoid as there is an underlying feeling of insecurity—you weren’t very confident with your voice over the line. Another is the anxiety of struggling with your words—a very common occurrence every time you’re on the line. However, as you agree with Ruby with the feeling of laziness, plus his tips will probably lead you better on finishing your quest.

rubbiesyong entered the voice chat.

You turned on the voice chat as you put your earphones on. You waited for him to speak first, but since he was not saying anything, you were about to open your mouth as you hear a masculine voice over.

“Hello?”

Oddly familiar, you thought, but you shrugged the idea off. Maybe all guys sounded familiar over the line? You weren’t sure, but it wasn’t of priority. You whispered a subtle hello back and you hear him laugh, a deep baritone resonating on the line.

“I guess it’s connected,” there goes the laugh again, and you can’t help but imitate the action.

“Cute voice,” Ruby commented that halted your laugh. You were thankful that he couldn’t see your face as you were sure that you’re flushing with the sudden compliment.

“Whatever,” an attempt to change the topic, you asked him what to do and of course, you told him where you’re stuck on. He guided you throughout as expected—the quest being chicken with Ruby at your party. He guarded your back as you escort the NPC to the designation, and although he took a few hits here and there, Ruby slew the bandits that resulted in success.

“Ah, finally!” You stretched your arms when the screen flashed glitter gold letters of completed! for the quest. You hear Ruby laughed and there were sounds of clapping in the background.

“Congrats.”

You chuckled, taking a sip of the water beside you that you got while on a short break. “Couldn’t have done it without you, Ruby!”

“Calling me Ruby in type-chat is okay but it feels weird hearing it to be honest,” he chuckled.

“I kinda feel the same when you call me with mine, but it’s fine? I’m not sure how to feel, to be honest.”

“But you know, you sound familiar, I swear I heard your voice before.”

“You know what? I thought of that too!” Unbelievably, you feel like you’re closer to this stranger as well—not only because you met for a while now, but his voice just sounded so amicable. “What are the chances, right?!”

“Yeah,” you hear him pause and breathe, and when you feel like the silence is getting awkward, you initiated another conversation by asking him:

“Why are you online this very Christmas eve?”

“Got nothing better to do,” he sighed, and you thought he drank from something as an exhale from his lips rang over the line. “Don’t have work today since it’s Christmas, and plane tickets are hella expensive. I miss my sister and mom though, especially my dog.”

Hearing him talk about family made you think of your own, and the feeling of homesickness hit you like a deer-in-headlights. You sighed and rested your head comfortably on the pillow in front of you. “Yeah, same.”

“What about you?”

You told him your reasons—that you were a graduate student finishing a paper for your defense on the upcoming semester, and the tickets for the same reason. Although he chuckled, it was cut short as he asked:

“By chance, do you ever stop by a cafe to do your work?”

“Yeah, I do,” you quipped slowly, eyebrow-raising from the sudden question from him.

“Sorry if this is personal, is your name (Y/N) by chance?”

You feel your heart race faster than normal, how did this stranger know your name? No words were forming in your confused and tangled thoughts, and the only thing that came to mind was to disconnect, but Ruby beat you to it by saying:

“Shit, sorry, that was weird huh?” You hear him sigh and he continued. “But like, in this cafe where I work, there’s this person who always comes in stressed—clearly, and you know, cute and all, we’ve become close you know? I have this tiny—hell, I have this crush and I even thought it was you.”

Did he just tell what happened to your daily life the past few days?

“They’re cool when they’re doing their stuff you know? Ah—I’m rambling. Sorry,” he chuckled apologetically, and even over the line you hear the sincerity in his tone.

“No, no, it’s fine!” You bit your lip, a habit you got when you feel your anxiety reaching roof high. “Uhm, is your real name Taeyong, by any chance?”

What plot twist it is when you hear a pause—followed by a rather loud vocal of your name. In a questioning tone.

“Seriously?!”

“Lee Taeyong!?”

Another minute passed with exchanges as such, tossing your real names back and forth. It was the biggest plot twist of the year, you thought, as from what he said not too long ago was a subtle confession, isn’t it? That he had this crush on you?

Because you feel butterflies in your stomach as you feel the same way for him. The smile that grew fondly on you, his strong features that soften with every conversation, no matter how silly the topic is. You remember the first time you met, embarrassment was all around your facade, but his presence and soothing existence were enough to radiate a calming and comforting persona that you got infatuated with.

This has to be a joke, isn’t it?

Maybe he’s a hacker—stalker, who knows all about Taeyong and since they do know about Taeyong, they know about you as well? Maybe they’re using some sort of voice changer to make it sound like him. It’s a threat to National Security! It’s some overthinking, but—

“It’s me, you idiot! I can hear you overthinking!” You hear a roaring laugh on the line, and it sounded genuine that he’s having fun.

“Yeah? If it’s you what was the thing I ordered in your cafe when we first met?”

“Caramel macchiato. A slice of banana bread. That was your order,” with an emphasis on the word your. “Then I gave you a plate of carbonara, with garlic bread, all made with love.”

You feel the blood rushing to your cheeks.

“You’re not being discreet about it, Taeyong.”

“Well, I kinda confessed anyway. Not in the way I planned, but—“

“No need to worry about that,” you chuckled, burrowing your head to the pillow you’re propping on to muffle your next words.

“I like you too.”

“Come again? I think the line was choppy.”

You were sure that he still heard it, and that he was only teasing you, but with your heart almost bursting out from your ribcage, and the amount of embarrassment and butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you sighed.

“I like you too, you idiot.”

He was clad in a brown coat and scarf that you gave to him as a gift to protect himself from the cold. His hands, however, were inside his coat pockets, fidgeting the heat pack that kept his digits warm.

When he looked at the side, he noticed your shivering figure, hands inside your coat’s pockets as well, and the tip of your nose beet-red from the cold. A smile tugged at his dry, thin lips—though it was cute seeing you like this, he can’t let you catch a cold.

Taeyong moved to your back and wrapped his arms around your waist, his warmth radiating to yours like a heater. You sighed and basked in his comfort, laying your head on his chest as he hugged you from behind.

“Happy New Year, babe.”

He said, looking down to meet your gaze—a galaxy that you considered home. His presence that made your cold, lonely holidays warm and colorful unlike what you expected, and additionally, a friend that you could confide in—whether be it in real life or virtually.

And when his lips descended on yours, the colors in the sky long forgotten, you feel safe.

Though not back home, Taeyong was and had to be, the biggest twist of your life.

#lee taeyong fluff #taeyong fluff #lee taeyong drabbles #taeyong imagines #neowritingsnet #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct fluff #nct taeyong #taeyong x reader #lee taeyong x reader #taeyong drabbles

319 notes · View notes

quicksilverlightning · 4 years

Text

Number One In Our Hearts

It starts innocuously enough, with All Might being invited to run the yearly Quirkless course on Quirk Warrior.

“It’s been a rough course this year folks – only six runners have made it all the way through, but we’ve got one last contestant to go.”

“That’s right, Ken, and it’s the one you’ve all been waiting for. This year’s Quirkless Run has pulled out all the stops – the jump hang is longer, the wall is higher, and it’s all for this one last runner. Ladies and gentlemen, the one, the only, the legend, All Might!”

___________________________________________

cinnadust

My favorite thing about All Might running the QLC is that he doesn’t run at all. He strolls through like he’s fucking bored.

Staples083

his wingspan is enormous

pipe-fingers

Petition for All Might to run the Quirk course #NumberOneInOurHearts

GangOrg4n

look at him wave at the audience he’s not even tring lol Absolute Legend

Red-Phone-Wire

please someone make these announcers losing their shit into a meme

___________________________________________

All Might’s appearance rockets the ratings to unseen heights; the full video goes viral and has over a million views before the weekend is over. It isn’t long before the agency is fielding phone calls from the usual suspects – reporters, journalists, talk shows – but also from some more unusual places.

Toshinori lights up when PR brings him the first batch of requests and immediately agrees to do them all. The second flurry of requests comes before the cooking show segment is finished airing and the floodgates open. Every reality show and competition is clamoring for All Might to guest star.

___________________________________________

Quirky Kitchen makes it an hour-long special. The first half is dedicated to some old American favorites; he chats with the host and audience while slicing tomatoes with charming ease. The audience delights in his culinary prowess, gained over long years of bachelordom, and laughs at his silly anecdotes. Which makes the second half all the more surprising.

With the burden of secrecy lifted, Yagi Toshinori can finally see his way forward. All Might can no longer be a pillar, but, perhaps, Yagi Toshinori can be a support beam. While the live audience munches on potato chips hot from the fryer, Toshinori pulls a simple hardback chair from the set, seats himself, and opens up.

___________________________________________

“Cooking… it’s a lot like my Quirk – my strength is gone, but the reflexes, the training, all of that is still there. I can’t eat what I’m making anymore, but I still know how to make it. And I can still share it with all of you.”

___________________________________________

explendative

holy shit

out-of-batt

damn, look at him flipping burgers @9:32 this man is perfect??

h0m3b0dyJJ

Okay, guys, my dad had a gastrectomy a few years before he died and it’s seriously no joke. My dad lost 63 pounds just a few months after his; it’s hard to keep anything down and you have to eat little meals all the time and there’s just so. much. food. that you can’t have anymore. He was taking like a billion supplements and vitamins just to manage everyday challenges. I can’t even imagine going through that on top of being an active Pro.

its-ibuki

we must protect All Might at all costs

___________________________________________

He laughs when his students gather round, babbling about the dance show. He ruffles Ashido’s hair fondly.

“You don’t get to Number One without some fancy footwork! Take that to heart, my young students,” he nods sagely, managing to extract himself before he’s late to the staff meeting. He heads down the hall, but not before tossing one last piece of advice over his shoulder.

“And learn at least one social dance!”

___________________________________________

Honestly? I don’t like the hero rankings. I’d prefer they didn’t exist at all. How do you rank acts of heroism? Why is saving one life worth less than saving a hundred? You can’t quantify someone’s worth down to a data point. What’s a hundred lives to a parent that’s lost their only child?

- All Might discusses the ranking system on Hero Discourse

12,086 notes

LoreleiFae

another day, another reason to love All Might

FlipFlapItsATrap

you know, I never really got the hype around All Might. Like, I understood he was number one and super strong and all that, but I never got all the fervor around him. I started to get it after Kamino, but it’s really little moments like these that make me understand why he was number one. why he’s still number one, no matter what the ranking says. #NumberOneInOurHearts

07ohseven

@FlipFlapItsATrap: I’ve met All Might twice, both before and after Kamino (humblebrag, lol), and he really is just the nicest guy. He never treated anyone like they weren’t worth his time, from teenagers hunting autographs to little kids that wanted a hug. I ran into him again a few months ago at the Mustafu Library – he’d tucked himself away into a corner with a few books and we talked a little about what he was reading (a biography and a fantasy novel, if you were wondering). He asked me to call him Toshi and gave me some movie recommendations.

07ohseven

@FlipFlapItsATrap: I got off topic there, but what I wanted to say was that you’re right – All Might wasn’t number one because he was a good hero. He was number one because he’s a good person. All Might made me feel safe, but Toshi made me feel comfortable, like talking to an old friend. I hope I get to meet him again one day. #NumberOneInOurHearts

___________________________________________

Kizumi Takada @0Window0Knight0

@AllMightOfficial how many people have you kissed?

All Might @AllMightOfficial

@0Window0Knight0 None.

All Might @AllMightOfficial

@0Window0Knight0 But, many, many people have kissed me.

___________________________________________

Peony-crowned

Next time on Hero Theory – is All Might asexual?

Superxxchar04

@peony-crowned: OTP – All Might X Justice

Hkoin

@superxxchar04: All Might X A healthy mind body and soul in a long life filled with joy and laughter FTFY

___________________________________________

He’s carrying a stack of grading in one hand and nearly throws the entire pile in the air when Present Mic grabs him in the hallway, begging him to be on his show. After a few moments spent calming him down, Toshinori manages to gather that his guest for the night has had a last minute cancellation. He offers an easy smile and agrees to fill in.

He wasn’t expecting Hizashi to open the phone lines up for questions, but what kind of hero would he be if he couldn’t roll with the punches?

___________________________________________

Am I on the air?

That’s right, listener! You are live and you’ve got a question for us?

Yeah! Well, for All Might. Big fan by the way, you’re the greatest.

Thank you kindly, young man!

Right, so I was wondering – do you make more from your hero work, or from merchandising rights? I’ll hang up and listen, if that’s okay?

Perfectly fine, listener!

I don’t – didn’t – make any money at all from my hero work. Any bounties have gone to victims or to charity, and I’ve never sent anyone a bill for helping at a natural disaster. Merchandising rights more than cover the agency overhead – I’m not even the highest paid individual at my own company.

___________________________________________

TexasSmashMe

I’m sorry to inform the hero fandom that Stain was 100% correct – there is only one real hero, and his name is Yagi Toshinori.

___________________________________________

drrdrrdrrdrr reblogged from nessalee

[gif set]

[First image description]

A young All Might flies through the air, cape billowing like a banner

[Second image description]

Silver Age All Might holds up a collapsing bridge pillar with one arm while the other gives a thumbs up.

[Third image description]

Golden Age All Might overlooks the city from a skyscraper, bangs ruffling in the wind

[Fourth image description]

All Might stands tall, battered and bloody, a single fist raised into the air

[Fifth image description]

Yagi Toshinori bounces at the front of the course, posture relaxed, waiting for the starting bell

[Sixth image description]

A toddler yanks on Yagi Toshinori's bangs as he smiles indulgently

[Seventh image description]

Yagi Toshinori sitting in the bleachers at Yuuei, beaming proudly at the field where his students compete

[Eighth image description]

Yagi Toshinori stands, battered and bloody, face turned away, pointing into the distance

A Hero for Eternity

All Might / Yagi Toshinori

36,875 notes

CoraBakes

get u a man that can do both

la-la-lo-li

The one with the kid is so cute <3 Yagi-san would be a great dad

kainnn9056

pft look at him casually holding up a bridge with one arm hes so extra i love it.

___________________________________________

He's just leaving the school when PR messages him with the request from Hero Monthly magazine. It's usually the kind of thing he would sign off on without a second thought, but his eye lingers on a single word - photoshoot. This wouldn't be like answering questions about his gastrectomy online, or explaining his injury on a talk show - this would be actively showing off the wound that nearly killed him.

Toshinori never expected to retire; hell, he'd never expected to survive. He assumed he would die as he lived - being a hero - and take all his secrets with him. But now...

Now he thinks of young Midoriya with his scarred hand; of his friend Todoroki, who couldn't hide his burn if he wanted to. He thinks of Iida's older brother, learning to walk again. He remembers Best Jeanist may lose his own stomach in the near future and the scar under Aizawa's eye. He remembers hospital wards full of children with amputated body parts and prosthetic limbs and dreams of heroism. He remembers being twelve and Quirkless and thinks again of young Midoriya, to whom Quirkless may as well have been a synonym for disabled.

___________________________________________

[Image set]

[Cover image description]

Yagi Toshinori sits in a crisp white button-up on an angled couch, legs stretched over the cushions, looking at the camera over his shoulder.

[First image description]

Yagi Toshinori adjusts a cuff-link, grinning wildly at something off camera, suit jacket flared in the wind.

[Second image description]

Yagi Toshinori sits on the edge of a bed, hands together between his open knees. His white shirt is unbuttoned, revealing a skinny chest and hints of spiderwebbing red.

[Third image description]

Yagi Toshinori looks away from the camera shyly, one hand rubbing the back of his head. His scar is viciously red, stretching the full length of his torso before disappearing below the hem of the dark slacks clinging to his skinny hips.

108,792 notes

vedran-oligarch

All Might looks like someone punched a hole through him and I'm still lusting over his fine ass hot DAMN

i-am-a-blank-page

@vedran-oligarch: it's the eyes - they're always the same and they're always so intense

vedran-oligarch

@i-am-a-blank-page: point, but those beautiful hipbones aren't hurting my lady-boner

IrisEvergarden

I really, really love the last picture. His expression is so sweet and unsure and humanizing - the whole set is, but that one really does it for me <3

paperclipped-wildflowers

his hair looks so soft

IrisEvergarden

I just want to give this man a hug, he's so good and pure and brave

ExpectingDelay

okay, but how how no one mentioned the interview part?!

If I saved one person when I lost my stomach, it was worth it. If I brought one child home to their parents when I crushed my lungs, it was worth it. If my words have helped someone through a rough patch, if I inspired someone to do better, be better, it was all worth it. There are a great many regrets in my life, but helping others has never been one of them. There is nothing I wouldn’t break; no sacrifice that would make me hesitate.

That's what heroism is - it's taking these hits so that no one else has to.

this man is incredible.

flowwithit54

@ExpectingDelay: I'm fucking crying rn we don't deserve All Might OR Yagi Toshinori

___________________________________________

It's almost nine when Ishiyama finds him lazing on the teacher's lounge couch, idly scrolling through his own tag online. In the past few minutes alone, he's found post after post from individuals finding strength from last week's magazine shoot. A teenager with an arm mangled in a villain attack; an office worker embarrassed by needing a wheelchair; a boy with an annoying twitch thanks to an accident with his electricity Quirk. Thousands of messages of love and support, admiration and inspiration. It's almost enough to make him wonder why he'd been so worried about the inevitable. Ishiyama hands him a cup of tea.

"You look happy today, Yagi."

He closes the phone and takes the offered tea with a smile.

"Yeah. I guess I am."

#yagi toshinori #All Might #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #fanfic #social media fic #mha #bnha #I maintain that shows like Ninja Warrior would be AWESOME in a world of superpowers #which is how this fic started #and now I'm writing a whole series #about fandom and they ways in which we relate to our heroes #because I can't stop having Ideas #and I am LIVING #for All Might being a hero in a completely different way after Kamino #still salty about the lack of line breaks on tumblr

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chaoticspacefam · 3 years

Text

OC Interview Meme - Saarai Ahaszaai

I was tagged for this again by @deepseacritter, thank you! <3

I think all my mutuals have already been tagged multiple times for this so I’m not gonna add any more specific ones, but if you’re reading this and you wanna do it (or do it again), then feel free to say I tagged you! Yes, I promise I mean you!

Saarai, this time, because I highly doubt Ni’kasi would even turn up to an interview unless someone bribed her XD Rai’s quite happy to talk about things though~

-The Pureblood that strolls in looks a lot taller than the HoloNet cameras have made her seem in the past, she has to duck to get herself through the doorway, mumbling something about “architechts needing to pay more attention to tall people when designing doorways”, before offering the interviewer an apology as she accepts the microphone and pins it to the collar of her robe and takes her seat-

? Name ? -Though she is tall and imposing at first glance, she seems to exude a very calm, friendly aura as she answers the first of the questions, lounging in the chair in a very casual manner, as if they were having a conversation in someone’s living room and not in a studio- “Saarai Ahaszaai. You can call me Rai, if it’s easier for you.”

? Are you single ? “Wouldn’t you like to know~?” -Saarai hums teasingly, even winking a little at the woman across from her- “But no, and I’m not really looking to add anyone else to the circle right now.”

? Are you happy ? “Pretty content, yeah!”

? Are you angry ? -the playful smirk fades and she looks slightly worried for a moment- "I don’t look angry, do I? I’m not, I promise.”

? Are your parents still married ? -She smiles again, but this time it is partly sad, and partly wistful- "They’ve both been dead a great many years now. But, I suppose...wherever they went afterwards, they probably still are, yes. From what I do remember of them when we were little, they loved eachother very, very much and I think if there is somewhere we go when we die, that wouldn’t change.”

NINE FACTS

? Birth Place ? “Hah! I don’t think there are many people now that know the name. We call it “Nathema”, now, but...it was very much different when we were little. We spent a lot of time on Dromund Kaas, though, more than at “home” home.”

? Hair Color ? "I believe you’d call this a sort of dark scarlet?” -she flicks an errant strand back into place over her shoulders-

? Eye Color ? “Yellow, as you can see.” -she leans down a little closer to the camera, to give a better view of them for a moment before straightening up-

? Birthday ? -this question makes the Pureblood throw her head back, teeth glinting in the artificial studio lights as she laughs heartily- "Didn’t your mama teach you it was rude to ask a lady her age, dear? Old enough, I assure you~”

? Mood ? "Content, amused. A little hungry, I didn’t eat before I came here, realising now I probably should have, but oh well!” -the interviewer shifts uncomfortably in her seat, although the phrase was not presented as threatening itself, it wasn’t difficult to notice how sharp those teeth are and they’re clearly uneasy at the thought...-

? Gender ? "Female. Simple as that, nothing extra to add to that one.”

? Summer or winter ? "Summer, absolutely.” -Saarai’s answer is almost immediate, and as she speaks about the cold she visibly shudders- “I don’t do well in winter, far too cold for me. Nopeeee.”

? Morning or afternoon ? "Early morning is best, just as the sun is rising. It’s very beautiful, almost peaceful.” -she smiles once again, as relaxed as ever-

EIGHT THINGS ABOUT YOUR LOVE LIFE -She quirks a browstalk in surprise, but sinks back into the seat and nods a little, as if giving the interviewer permission to continue-

? Are you in love ? -She answers without hesitation- "Yes, I am. They’re both amazing.”

? Do you believe in love at first sight ? "Mmmhh, yes.” -Saarai has to consider this question in a little more detail before she can truly give an answer, nodding slowly- “I suppose that I do. But I’ve been told by my sister that I have a habit of “falling for people too easily”, as she calls it, so perhaps that has something to do with it.”

? Who ended your last relationship ? "It was a mutual separation.” -the Pureblood shrugs simply, not seeming awfully upset by it- “She and I wanted different things and we realised it just wasn’t going to work out, so we broke it off.”

? Have you ever broken someone’s heart ? "Not intentionally, but it would be wrong of me to assume that it’s never happened at all.”

? Are you afraid of commitments ? -this time, Saarai snorts, partly in amusement with perhaps a slight undertone of annoyance- "No. I’m not. It’s absolutely possible to be committed to more than one person at a time and I assure you I’m perfectly equipped to do just that.”

? Have you hugged someone within the last week? -Her demeanour softens almost instantly at this question and she smiles warmly- “Yes. My sister, and my son, and my partners. Why, did you need one? I’m told I give good hugs, pointy bits aside.”

? Have you ever had a secret admirer ? "Not that I’m aware of, but I suppose that’s what makes them a secret admirer, eh?”

? Have you ever broken your own heart? -the gentleness vanishes from her eyes and they lock with the interviewer’s intensely. While the gaze itself is not threatening, it’s very clear that she doesn’t wish to talk about this topic further and would like to move on- “Yes. Twice.”

SIX CHOICES

? Love or lust ? -She seems relieved to have left the previous topic unanswered, her smile slowly returning as she continues- “Definitely love over lust. Lust without the love is a very empty, lonely thing.”

? Lemonade or iced tea ? "Do you know, I don’t think I’ve ever had either?” -Saarai’s browstalks pull downwards into a thoughtful frown as she concludes- “Iced tea sounds...interesting, though. I’d probably try that.”

? Cats or Dogs ? “Again, I’ve never had either, but if I had to pick one, I guess a cat sounds nice.”

? A few best friends or many regular friends ? "Why not both? I wouldn’t tell regular friends things I told my best friends, but that doesn’t make them not my friends.”

? Wild night out or romantic night in ? "Romantic night in.” -she huffs softly and shakes her head- “I don’t mind a drink or two every now and then, but I’d much rather be at home with my partners.”

? Day or night ? -She smiles wistfully again- “Night time. Before he died, my father used to take my sister and I outside to stargaze when we were little. Doing that now reminds me of him.”

FIVE FOUR HAVE YOU EVERS

? Been caught sneaking out ? "Caught? No, I haven’t.”

? Fallen down/up the stairs ? -the Pureblood’s browstalks shoot upwards and she looks somewhat accusing, this time- “What did Aria tell you? That was one time! One!”

? Wanted something/someone so badly it hurt? "More often than I’d like to admit.” -Saarai snorts in amusement, shaking her head to herself- “I believe you’d call me a “hopeless romantic”, if you will.”

? Wanted to disappear ? -She looks down a little, but eventually does meet the interviewer’s gaze again- "Yeah. I suppose I did. It seemed like it would’ve been easier, at the time.”

FOUR PREFERENCES

? Smile or eyes ? "Both?”

? Shorter or Taller ? "Usually shorter, that’s just...easier, at the end of the day.” -with how tall she is, this answer was to be expected-

? Intelligence or Attraction ? “I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find intelligence very attractive...”

? Hook-up or Relationship ? "Long-term? A relationship. I get attached easily, but I’m not above a few one-nighters here and there, if the opportunity presents itself~”

FAMILY

? Do you and your family get along ? "My twin sister and I are, yeah. I haven’t seen my uncles for a very long time, but I’d like to think we’re still close and we’ll see each other again sometime soon.” -she smiles gently- “And my son, of course. He knows he can come to me for anything. But, that’s it...that’s the family, or what’s left of us anyway.”

? Would you say you have a “messed up life” ? -the Pureblood tilts her head, going quiet for a long-ish while- “By Sith standards, I suppose no. Not with the way the Empire’s been these days. In terms of how it affected me? A little, but I picked myself back up and we’re doing okay.”

? Have you ever ran away from home ? “I don’t consider it running from home. I ran from the place that used to be home, because it stopped being that way. I’m home now.“

? Have you ever gotten kicked out ? "Nnnn, nah. I’m gonna say no, on this one.”

FRIENDS

? Do you secretly hate one of your friends ? -Saarai hesitates before answering this time, worrying at her lip with one of her fangs- "I don’t know whether I would say “hate”, that’s a very strong word. But “dislike”, yeah, one of them a little.”

? Do you consider all of your friends good friends ? "Most of them, though I trust a few more than others.”

? Who is your best friend ? "Probably Ni’kasi. Or Koth. Can I say both of them? I don’t know if I can pick.”

? Who knows everything about you ? "Ni’kasi again. She’s been in my life the longest, I mean, we’re twins so...that’s kind of a given isn’t it?”

#swtor #star wars: the old republic #tagged meme #oc interview meme #swtor oc: saarai ahaszaai #the outlander #sith pureblood #this took me a little longer to finish than I thought it would i'm sorry #shsyjdgfyudfdt #i do like this meme tho it's fun!

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alittlebitmaybe · 4 years

Note

Ask meme time! Pick three fics you have written, post a favorite section of each and explain why it is your favorite. Then, pass it on! :D

oh goodness this is difficult because i tend not to think highly of anything i’ve ever written...but i’ll give ‘em a go!

beautiful, he stirs up still things

“Well, you make a good point, Witcher. But I already did pick someone else, you see.”

“Strike two?” Geralt guesses. “Did you put a hand up her skirt too quickly?”

“That rather remains to be seen, since I haven’t asked them to dance with me yet.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“Since you ask, I’m actually quite nervous they’ll turn me down, too.”

“They won’t. No one ever turns you down.”

Geralt can feel Jaskier’s gaze on his face, like the weight of a heavy blanket. “Someone does,” he says, “quite regularly.”

“You’re not asking me to dance,” says Geralt stupidly.

Jaskier turns his palm up on his knee, offering it. “I think you’ll find I am.”

Geralt swallows hard. “I don’t dance.”

“I’ll lead. I imagine it’s not so different from fighting. You’ll catch on.”

“I’m not going back inside,” he protests.

“We’ll do it here.”

The band, as if on cue, strikes up a slow tune that seeps out from the ballroom. Jaskier’s hand still waits, empty.

“Tell me if I’m pushing my luck, here, Geralt. I’ll leave you alone if you wish,” Jaskier says. “No hard feelings, none at all.”

Geralt tilts his head to get a look at him and immediately regrets it. His face is earnest and hopeful, still wine-flushed. The moonlight hits him gently, hugs the planes of his face, sparks off the blue of his eyes. Without any conscious thought, Geralt’s hand lands in his, and he beams like he’s never wanted anything more.

Then Jaskier releases it as he stands suddenly. Geralt looks at him in confusion, but Jaskier drops into a dramatic bow and takes the hand again. “May I have this dance?” he asks softly, dropping a kiss to the knuckles.

It’s ridiculous and over the top and sincere and Geralt can only nod wordlessly. This sort of treatment is so foreign that it tips into frightening, but as with all things Jaskier, Geralt finds himself diving in headfirst.

i really love this tender little oneshot i wrote, actually??? i was like, i want them to Dance and i want them to have Feelings about it. and then i DID THAT. i just really nailed the vibe i wanted in this fic, i think. this bit is the crux of it, when jaskier convinces him to dance. i really like all of it--the pining, the dancing itself, the kiss-not-kiss--but geralt having this internal dialogue of like “fuck i’m gonna dance with him in this garden, aren’t i?“ “you don’t gotta” “no i’m gonna” is just. the whole point tbh.

the brightest shade of sun

If they start arriving earlier to school regularly, it’s only because Geralt’s work appointments keep getting pushed up in the day.

The following Thursday they are third to arrive, breaking their streak of firsts and seconds. Ciri, pouting, gives him a little shove on the leg.

“We’re late because you spent too long getting dressed, Papa,” she says.

She’s not wrong. It took fifteen minutes to decide between the black t-shirt or the maroon t-shirt. He went with maroon.

Geralt raises an eyebrow at her. “Do we push people, Ciri? You know better than that. Don’t make me come down there.”

She sticks out her tongue and says, “You wouldn’t.”

Geralt sighs. Sometimes she’s like raising a little Yen. God help him.

Jaskier is fluttering about busily this morning, one arm balancing a stack of magazines and a box crammed with safety scissors and the other cradling a massive roll of posterboard. He brightens when he sees them. “Good morning, Ciri, Geralt! Did you sleep in this morning?”

Geralt says “Yes,” and Ciri says, “Papa was being weird about his clothes again. I don’t know why, he always wears the same thing. I knew I wanted to wear my blue dress today before I even went to sleep last night.”

“And it is an excellent choice as always. You do have flawless taste.”

“I know,” says Ciri, walking off to put away her things and join her classmates in the reading nook.

Jaskier’s pile of magazines tilts dangerously and Geralt takes half from him, saying “Let me help with those.”

“Ah, thanks very much,” replies Jaskier, standing up straighter with the lessened burden. “We’re just splitting these up between each of the four tables and leaving scissors at each seat. If you have a moment to help.”

Geralt does, counting off roughly a quarter of the magazines at each table while Jaskier distributes scissors and posterboard. Jaskier hums as they work. At the third table, Jaskier murmurs, “That color suits you.”

“Thanks,” Geralt says, losing his count.

this one is maybe cheating, because it’s not REALLY my fave part of this one (the planetarium scene was pure self-gratification), but it is up there and, tbh, underappreciated. there are so many little things in this simple bit i love. geralt painstakingly choosing from his 1 billion solid colored h&m basics tshirts. ciri sassing him so hard and dropping his secrets to jaskier. geralt being so caught off guard by the compliment from the pretty kindergarten teacher that his brain flatlines other than to make a to do list of one item reading “buy more maroon shirts”. he’s a fool. there may be a theme to these passages so far

another dawn

Now that he’s speaking about it, it all tumbles out. “I did it, once. The first one.” Every horrible word falls off his lips before he can stop it. “You died at the end of my sword. In the witch’s hut. She was knitting.”

“You—what?”

“I asked her to make it right. I asked for another chance. I’ve had many, and you still die.”

Jaskier glances at the swordbelt, face slack in surprise. “Steel or silver?” he asks faintly.

“Silver,” Geralt replies. “It wasn’t for you. I didn’t mean it.”

Jaskier gathers himself and huffs as if Geralt is being very stupid. “Of course you didn’t. You never would. I trust you, Geralt. With my life.”

“Apparently, you shouldn’t.”

“Sure, let me just upend my brain and forget the last decade of you protecting me at every turn, and I’ll get right on that.”

“Eight years.”

“What the fuck ever. Round up. Feels like a fucking century.”

Despite the tension rolling off him, Jaskier grasps Geralt’s hand. Geralt sucks in a breath, waiting to feel the wet slide of blood, the heaving death rattles, but they don’t come. His hand is warm, if moist, solid, alive.

“My existence, then,” Jaskier says. “My soul, my being, my legacy, my song. Whatever is left of me when life has gone, whatever scraps float about in my absence, I trust those to you.”

The continent knows I have loved you. They know who you are, Witcher. Blood on a hand-woven rug.

“Jaskier,” he says into the quiet, “I would not like to be without you.”

“Nor I, Witcher,” comes the soft reply. Another few long moments go by, and the godsforsaken drizzle starts up. Jaskier is the one to speak up, this time. “I’m going to kiss you, Geralt.”

this scene, when geralt gives in and just tells jaskier what he did and what he’s been going through, and jaskier is just kind of pissed off at him for a second, is absolutely my fave in here. it is SOFT. it is TENDER. it is SAD. like, jeez geralt, sure you mighta made a mistake but i’m here now. he knows geralt didn’t mean it with nary a second’s pause and is mainly frustrated that he has to explain that to geralt. this bit also contains 3 of my most self-indulgent lines ever. i just went for em. “my soul, my being, my legacy, my song,” that line, and the repetition of jaskier’s first set of last words, “the continent knows i have loved you,” fuck that’s pure nonsense right there, but i sure wrote it, and it sure does still make me sad. then we end it with “i would not like to be without you,” something that has settled itself in geralt’s chest since that first death but he never put words to until they fell out of him right there and landed in jaskier’s lap. oof!

#thx for the tag <3 #my fic #hopefully soon i'll have more to choose from!!#i reread a lil oneshot i started ages ago and it drew me back in again so maybe i'll try to finish that one #and zombie au is a lil stalled #cus grad school ate my free time and also all my other time #yoursummerfrost

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apharine · 4 years

Text

Blizzard in the Reach

Pairing: Reader/Argis the Bulwark

Fandom: Skyrim/The Elder Scrolls

Rating: Explicit

My Writing Commission Info | Please consider tipping me on Ko-Fi!

Read on AO3

Summary: The Druadach Mountains of the Reach are known to be dangerous for travelers - not only for the presence of the Forsworn, bandits, and monsters, but also for vicious blizzards that have killed many a traveler. You had hoped to get through the mountain passes as quickly as possible, especially with a snowstorm coming in, but now it looks like you and Argis might be in store for a night spent together on the mountains.

Notes: This started as part of a series of one-shots with Argis the Bulwark several years ago, back when I was writing for the kink meme still. Some of the one-shots have been lost to the Internet and to now-dead computers, some are still with me and in desperate need of re-working, but this one was always my favorite. I found it on an external hard drive recently, and thought I'd share it with the world - there's really not enough Argis content. I know he doesn't have a lot of dialogue, but he's always been my favorite Housecarl and follower, and I always marry him in-game. If anyone would want to see any of the other Argis one-shots, let me know, and I can see what I can dig up and re-work! I've certainly got a little more time on my hands with this coronavirus thing. Hope everyone is staying healthy and happy, and most importantly, stay at home <3

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“We need to make camp for the night, my Thane.”

You turn to face your Housecarl, Argis the Bulwark, and you immediately see obstinacy in the way his arms are folded across his broad chest, his feet spread in a wide stance. This obstinacy has served you well time and again, especially in the stubborn way he never gives up on you. He's rushed back into battle after receiving grievous injuries, his only care in all of Tamriel protecting you. He's sat up all night with you, waiting for you to explain what in Oblivion is bothering you. He's carried you, as you lay dying in his arms, to whatever nearby town was available, on the slim chance he could find a healer skilled enough or a potion strong enough for you. Yes, you're grateful for all that this man has done for you.

But that doesn't mean he's any less stubborn than he was on day one.

“We can still make it back to Markarth, and be home in Vlindrel Hall by morn,” you retort over your shoulder, anxious to keep moving. The Reach is howling with a snowstorm, and visibility on this face of the mountains is becoming terribly low. The accumulating snow and the slick rocks will only make traveling all the harder - you need to press on, not have a debate with one another.

“My Thane,” he warns, his deep voice dark. You continue marching ahead. If that stubborn man would just cooperate - “My Thane,” he repeats, more firmly, and you stop in your tracks, irritated. He knows you long ago disregarded any illusions of rank between the two of you, and that, as equals, you don’t believe in issuing him orders. He also knows that his obstinacy is driving you insane at the moment, as it so often does, and that he’s only calling you by your title of Thane to hammer home his point. Moreover, the snowstorm is already picking up more speed, threatening a full blizzard, and he knows he's right about it. All of it.

“Maybe they should have called you Argis the Bull-headed, not Bulwark,” you quip as you trudge through a snowdrift back to the man. For an instant, you think you see his scarred lips quirk up in a smile, but visibility is terribly low.

“You may call me whatever you wish,” he responds evenly, his face the epitome of calm.

“Anything?” You tease him drily as you continue your trudge, tilting your head back to affix the tall Nord with what you hope is a stony gaze.

“Aye, anything,” he agrees, his lips again twitching at the edges as he watches you - an unmistakable gesture, at this close proximity. “As long as you’re alive to say it and not frozen to death, like you will be if you try to keep on in this.”

“You are insufferable sometimes,” you sigh, coming to a stop, and Argis quirks a single eyebrow at you, as if to say you’re the one who’s being insufferable. But he doesn’t say it out loud, instead commenting,

“There was that deserted camp we passed by not more than a quarter of an hour ago.”

“There was a good lean-to there,” you agree, nodding slowly. “As long as it really is deserted.” You shudder at the thought of being snuck up on at night by bandits or Forsworn, but a moment later you shudder even harder as a blast of wind roars down from the mountain peaks, so cold as to be ungodly, and with as much ferocity as the worst frost breath of any dragon you’ve fought against. You turn away from it, drawing the hood of your cloak closer about you, but even so, your eyes water from the chill and a few loose strands of hair flutter about your face, whipping your cheeks with the condensation that quickly freezes on them.

You feel a solid form at your back, two great armored hands steadying you by your shoulders, and though the roaring of the wind hasn’t died down any, some of the worst of it is blocked from you now.

“Deserted or not, we have to get you out of the cold,” Argis says from behind you, his deep voice just loud enough to cut through the roar of the wind.

“I just hope there isn’t a fight waiting for us,” you admit, but Argis gives your shoulders a reassuring squeeze, as if to say I know, but I’ll be there. The next moment, the great hands are gone, and you start backtracking through the treacherous mountain trails, the Bulwark right behind you.

The camp is much as you had last seen it about a half hour ago, with no new tracks in the snow around it and no signs of any items disturbed. An encouraging sign, you think, but not an absolute certainty that you will be safe.

You follow Argis’ lead as he slips behind a large rocky outcrop jutting out from the Druadach mountains, peering around it to get a glimpse of the camp every couple minutes. It’s a bit harder for you to get a glimpse of the place, as Argis is largely shielding you with his body, ever protective. But when you do manage to peer around him, you realize that the camp looks decidedly made by a group other than the Forsworn. You’re relieved; you’ve discovered enough abominations at Forsworn camps to hope not to be forced into one right now. There’s also a better chance that, if the camp was made by non-Reachmen bandits, they were either traveling through or moving from site to site, instead of inhabiting the place continuously. On your second time glancing around the outcropping, you notice there is one lean-to in particular that catches your eye, the way it caught it on your first pass through - it’s reinforced with multiple furs, and looks like it might actually be made out of wood underneath versus just stretched leathers. The overhang it sits under seems to provide some degree of protection, as well, and a rather enormous firepit is positioned close to it.

You open your mouth and turn to Argis, but he gives you a sharp nod, already on the same page.

“I’m going in to scout it out,” the Bulwark says, shrugging off his heavy pack, stuffed with supplies and topped with a bedroll, leaving it by your side. You do the same with your pack, which is also stuffed full but smaller than his, aware that you won’t want to be encumbered by it in the next few minutes. “Back me up if I need it,” Argis adds, drawing his bow and knocking an arrow to it in a movement you can’t help but feel is graceful, especially for a man as massive as he is.

“Aye,” you agree solemnly. Suddenly, struck by impulse, you reach up to him before he slips off, your hand brushing against his armored elbow. He starts at the contact, turning to you, and you realize you’ve surprised him on his blind side, where he can only make out faint shapes based on contrast in the light. “Be safe,” you say, just loud enough to be heard over the storm. He eases the tension on his bow, transferring both bow and arrow back into one hand with practiced ease. The next moment, he reaches out with his other hand, brushing your cheek with the back of his fingers, lingering just a moment. Never one for unnecessary words, he silently turns back to the camp, letting his fingers fall from your face and knocking the arrow to his bow again.

You’re a little dumbstruck for a moment as he sets off, keeping his blind side close to the mountain walls. Affection from Argis is not terribly uncommon - he’s a man’s man by all accounts, but you know well enough how fond he is of you. But the look on his face - the tenderness - had nearly been enough to set your heart to aching.

You recollect yourself, peering back around the outcropping, barely able to follow the Bulwark’s receding figure through the whiteout. If you’re going to have his back, you realize, you had better follow him. The trails he has broken in the accumulating snow make it easy enough for you, and you summon some fire to your hands. Not only is it nice to have the heat on your frozen fingers, but a quick blast of flames from a near-invisible location will disrupt any plans of potential marauders and buy you some extra time to help the Bulwark.

But you and Argis circle the whole camp, with no signs of any life visible in the entire place. Upon nearly coming back to the outcropping you had started at, Argis sets his bow back to its place on his back and returns his arrow to his quiver, instead unsheathing his sword. He walks boldly into the center of the camp, roaring a battle cry at the top of his lungs.

“Is there none here who would defend this place from me?” He bellows. “Show yourself!”

But he receives no reply except the whistling of the wind.

To be safe, he approaches each lean-to, beating the furs with the flat side of the sword and prying open the front flaps. You follow him again as he goes, still not wanting to lose sight of him.

“Coward! Craven! Fight me for what is yours!” He challenges at each shelter, but there is nothing and nobody. Satisfied, he doubles back to you and sheathes his sword. He doesn’t have far to travel; at this point, you can’t be much more than 20 feet away from him, or you’ll lose him in the ever thickening whiteout.

“We’ll be safe here,” Argis shouts over the wind as he comes to stand beside you. You nod your agreeance, not sure you would be able to say anything the Bulwark could hear over the increasing storm. “Let’s get you in the shelter.” One great hand rests on your waist, gently turning you around to backtrack through the path you had cut through the snow earlier. With a degree of alarm, you realize that the snow has begun to come down so fiercely that even this path has begun to fill in. Argis walks beside you, cutting a new path as he guides you along back to the big lean-to. You’re relieved when you see the place, and even more grateful to see that the overhang is keeping some of the snow from accumulating around it, as you had suspected it might.

“I’ll go get our packs,” Argis shouts again. Fear clamps around your heart, though, and you grab him quickly by the shoulder, pulling him down towards you so he can hear you.

“How will you find your way back here?” You shout, immediately frustrated that your voice doesn’t carry the same way he does. He hears you, though, and smiles.

“I grew up in the Reach,” he reminds you. “I had to learn how to navigate in storms like this. How to count my steps and my turns. But if it makes you feel better, make a big fire for me to find, and I’ll be back faster.” You glance at the firepit adjacent to the lean-to - yes, that’ll work, you think. By the time you’ve turned back to Argis, though, he is already trudging away through the deepening snow.

You set to work immediately, casting the brightest magical flames you can conjure, stoking the flames higher and higher. There’s enough of a woodpile left in the fire pit to burn brightly, the magical fire making short work of any wetness that had soaked into the lumber. You only stop when the heat becomes so searing that you’re not sure you can stand near it any more; the snow in a wide radius all around it has begun to melt away, as well, which you figure is good for keeping your camp from getting buried.

It feels like an eternity that you’re waiting by the fire you’ve conjured, watching the bright colors dance back and forth, hoping they can cut through the whiteout enough to help Argis. You remind yourself of what he said - he’d grown up here. He knew about how to navigate in a blizzard, how to see the tiniest remnant of a path, how to count his steps and how far he’d turned without getting confused. No Reachman who wasn’t well-versed in these things would last long outside the city gates of Markarth. But all the same, you feel an immense amount of relief when he appears again, shouldering his bigger pack and your smaller one. He’s moving at a plodding pace through the deep snow, nearly hip-deep in places, obviously fatigued. When he is close enough, you move to help him with the load he carries, and he gratefully swings your pack down to your waiting arms. You follow him into the lean-to, immediately impressed by the thing’s construction. There is wood under all the heavy furs, as you had suspected, and virtually none of the wind makes its way into the structure.

“By the Nine, it’s brutal out there,” Argis pants, unceremoniously dropping his heavy pack on the ground and plopping himself down, knees bent in to his chest, next to it. You drop your pack and move to his side.

“Are you okay?” You ask, glad to be able to talk at a normal volume instead of shouting over the wind.

“Yeah,” Argis grunts. “Just tired.” You reach out to touch his immense, armored shoulder, and let a little bit of a healing spell flow into him - not enough to tire you, but enough to help him recover his energy. He closes his eyes and drops his head back, exposing his thickly muscled throat, the large Adam’s apple, the beard stubble under his chin where the beard ends -

“That feels good,” he murmurs appreciatively. You let your magic infuse him for a few moments longer, and pull both your hand and your eyes away when he opens his eyes and smiles at you. You summon up the courage to look back at him and smile back, knowing that to be thanks enough between the two of you.

“Let’s get the bed rolls set out,” Argis suggests, raking one hand through his thick golden hair, now matted down with the melting of the snowflakes that had accumulated on him.

“Aye,” you agree, moving to open your bedroll, but he gently shoos you away from the entrance of the lean-to and towards the back of the structure with a gentle pressure of his hand on the small of your back.

“I sleep by the opening,” he reminds you. Despite his fatigue, a light comes to his good eye as he teases, “I swore an oath to protect you. We’ve been through this before.”

“I thought it wouldn’t matter if the place was empty,” you quip at him with a smile, pleased to see that he wasn’t so exhausted as to lose his sense of humor.

“Can never be too safe,” he answers, and though he tries to sound light-hearted, you know for him it’s the most serious matter in the world. You hum in response, pulling your bedroll out of its tightly-rolled Horker skin covering, pleased to find it dry, but chilly, underneath. You spread it out on the ground; beside you, Argis is doing the same with his.

“Argis?” You call to the man.

“Aye?” He answers quickly, raising his head from his work.

“You were right, earlier. When you kept me from trying to push on in this to make it home. I’m sorry for being foolish about it,” you finish.

“Lass,” he murmurs, a soft expression upon his face. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. If we were in Whiterun Hold, or anywhere in the South of Skyrim, you would’ve been right to push on. The blizzards here in the Reach are different.”

“I’ve never seen a storm as bad as this,” you agree. “The snow must be coming down a couple feet an hour, at least, never mind the drifts that are growing, and I could barely see you at twenty paces.”

“Aye, Reach blizzards build quickly and are unrelenting. They take many travelers unaware,” Argis agrees, finishing spreading out his bedroll.

“Well, thank you for knowing these lands better, and for making sure to keep us safe. The Divines blessed me the day we met, Argis,” you say honestly, finishing with your bedroll, pulling your rucksack to you, and beginning to rummage through it.

“Not as much as they blessed me,” he murmurs, and when you look up at him, the expression on his face is unreadable. You give him a small smile and return to your rucksack, triumphantly pulling out a slab of very frozen venison packed in enchanted paper, some root vegetables in a small burlap sack, and a little bit of cheese and bread. “Looks like a pretty good spread for tonight,” Argis notes, procuring a small pan from his rucksack and gathering your ingredients up.

“Aye,” you agree, continuing to root around in your bag.

“We probably don’t need much else,” the Bulwark offers, but you’ve already found what you wanted buried at the bottom of the sack.

“Here - we - are,” you grunt, pulling it out laboriously until it sits before you - prize of all prizes - an oversized bottle of beautiful, golden Honningbrew mead.

“I can’t believe you packed that,” Argis laughs, shaking his head at you in disbelief.

“But I’m sure you’re glad to see it, all the same,” you laugh back. The big Nord lets out a deep belly laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners, before admitting,

“Aye, I can’t argue with that.”

As you finish your dinner, you can’t help but think to yourself that you and Argis together are formidable - not just on the battlefield, but also in the kitchen. Or around the firepit, as the case had been tonight. In fact, you were hard-pressed to find a time on the road when the two of you hadn’t managed to take whatever scraps were in your bags and conjure up something delicious out of them.

“That was good,” Argis shouts, echoing your thoughts. His voice manages to carry over the wind, which, against all odds, has again managed to pick up even further. You’ve had to set up a ward to keep the worst of it from freezing the both of you, but even the ward can’t keep all of the chill away. You smile and nod at the Bulwark, picking up the large bottle of Honningbrew mead you’d stuffed in what little snow was left by the fire. Uncorking it, you take a swig; the alcohol burns on its way down, and a warmth settles in your belly. After one more swig, you nudge Argis' arm with the bottle. Honningbrew isn't his favorite, you know. He likes that darker Black-Briar stuff. But you're a fan of the sweeter taste, and Argis has never been one to protest, especially when you’re willing to carry a surprise bottle in your rucksack and share it with him. Mead is mead is mead to him.

He takes the bottle from you, his fingers brushing yours again before closing over the neck of the bottle. His touch is surprisingly gentle for such a big man; you can’t be sure, since the fire already has your face heated up so much, but you think you might be blushing. You resist the urge to duck your head, instead reaching up to Argis’ shoulder and pulling him down so you can talk closer to his ear and be heard. There is no way you can shout over this storm now.

“You don’t happen to have any more of those sweetrolls from the other day, do you?” You ask. Argis turns towards you, his face apologetic as he shakes his head no.

“Just the meat and mead for us tonight,” he murmurs into your ear. Pulling away, he takes another deep swig of the Honningbrew mead before handing it back to you. You share the rest of the bottle in a companionable silence, listening to the howling of the wind and tasting each other’s lips on the bottle.

By the time you're crawling back into your bed rolls, you’re both quite drunk and very relaxed. Sleeping tonight should really be no problem, you muse. Still, for a little more peace of mind, you cast a couple quick lightning runes outside the tent - just far enough away to alert you if anyone were to approach. You take down the ward you’d left by the fire, setting up another one outside your shelter for the night.

Back inside the lean-to, the wind is blessedly absent, though the air is still bitingly cold.

“Do you mind if I conjure a little smokeless fire in here?” You ask Argis. The Bulwark, in the middle of unclasping the greaves that cover his shins, frowns, pursing his lips.

“Go ahead,” he says, a trace reluctantly. You know his Nord upbringing has made him naturally mistrusting of all magic, and that mistrust is still not entirely gone, despite his fondness for you and admiration for what you could accomplish with it on the battlefield. “But…please make sure it’s the smokeless kind. I don’t want to suffocate.”

“And I don’t want to freeze,” you laugh, waving your hand. A soft, blue flame sputters to life in mid-air between the two of you and, though it veritably produces no smoke, its heat still permeates the tent. You mentally thank Farengar Secret-Fire for creating this nifty little spell and for deigning to teach it to you; his work was honestly that of pure ingenuity. A condescending little snot though he may be, you admit to yourself.

Argis moves onto the cuisses that cover his mighty thighs, beginning a small pile of armor on the far side of the lean-to next to the rucksacks. You pull off your vambraces first, throwing them in the accumulating pile and starting in on your greaves next.

“Could you help me with these, when you get a chance?” Argis asks, and you turn your attention from your armor back to him. He’s pointing to the large pauldrons that sit on his shoulders, and you move closer to him obligingly.

“Of course,” you agree, your fingers setting to work fiddling with the straps and clasps that hold his heavy armor in place. You’ve done this many a night, by now, and you make short work of them, sliding both pauldrons off the Bulwark’s broad shoulders and moving to put them both in his armor pile. You help him with his cuirass next, until Argis is finally free of all armor, covered only by the light linen pants and shirt he wears underneath. You shift back to your bedroll, starting in on the cuisses over your thigh, eager to be free of the restrictive coverings as well.

“My turn to help you,” a gentle murmur comes from behind you, and a light brush of fingers at your neck lets you know that Argis is gathering your hair, moving it over your shoulder so it won’t get in the way and pulled.

“Thank you,” you reply, throwing your first cuisse into your pile.

A warm “mm,” is the only answer you get, and you smile to yourself; Argis is probably really rather drunk, having finished the majority of the oversized bottle quite quickly. The way he gets when he is drunk and tired is surprisingly adorable, you think; more like a teddy bear than the Bulwark you know him to be. You’re certain that relatively few people have ever seen him in this state.

Argis, too, knows how to make short work of your armor, and it’s not long before you’re freed of your pauldrons and cuirass, as well as the second cuisse you take off your own thigh. You sigh and stretch out, raising your arms overhead and arching your back. It feels great to be in just linens again, even if you are chillier in the slowly-warming air of the lean-to than you were with your armor on. Feeling bold, you lean back far enough in your stretch that you rest your head on the Bulwark’s shoulder behind you, smiling lazily up at him.

Argis is smiling back at you warmly - not an uncommon response to any of your antics. But, to your surprise, you feel his strong hands slide over your waist in a way that feels almost sensuous. He pulls you into his lap with ease, and you let out a quiet gasp. He pauses, his hands loosening their grip on you, his smile fading somewhat and concern that he had overstepped emerging in his eyes.

“I’m sorry -” he begins, but you cut him off, turning in the loose hold of his hands to face more towards him and hooking one arm over his shoulder. You slide your other hand up his chest, letting it rest on the large swell of his pectorals.

“You’re so warm,” you sigh, leaning into the Bulwark, a heady feeling stronger than the mead itself building in your brain.

“And by the Divines, you are cold,” he murmurs, that warm and soft smile spreading back across his face as his hands hold your waist more firmly once again. “How can you be so chilly with a fire right above you?”

“Only a Nord could ask how someone could be cold in the middle of a blizzard,” you tease back with a laugh, resting your head against his powerful shoulder and gazing up at him flirtatiously.

“Aye, very well,” Argis concedes, pulling you still closer to him, so that your breasts are pressing into his broad chest. When he speaks again, his deep voice is murmuring in your ear, the heat of his breath fluttering against your skin. “Then join me in my bedroll, and let this Nord keep you warm tonight.”

“Gladly,” you answer breathlessly. Argis lets out a quiet, low groan, one arm winding all the way around your waist now while the other reaches back for his bedroll, unfurling the covers. With ease, his powerful frame carries you close to him as he shifts back into the sheets. He lays down with you resting atop his broad frame, chest to chest, one arm still wound around your waist. With the other hand, he pulls the blankets of his bedroll over the top of the both of you, and moves beneath you, tucking them in on one side. You reach one hand up to his thick blond locks, threading your fingers through his hair and braids. Argis finishes tucking the sheets in on both sides and turns his attention back to you with another of those heart-achingly tender smiles. Gently, his thick fingers find their way into your hair, playing with the locks there. At the same time, the hand around your waist slides down, slow inch by inch, until it is resting on the outside of your hip. Still moving tortuously slowly, he slides his hand away from your hip, moving across your ass.

Hand still in his hair, you pull him in for a deep kiss. His lips are surprisingly soft and full, and you can feel the ridges of the scars that run over them as he kisses you. He’s yielding at first, moving his mouth gently against yours, the fine, trimmed hairs of his beard tickling your skin. Your head is buzzing and your whole body feels like every nerve is lit up. You’d always imagined a kiss with Argis to be rough, dominating - but this kiss, his soft lips, his hands in your hair, it’s romantic and sweet and just a little hungry, and it’s so much better than you could have ever hoped for.

“Oh, Argis,” you breathe against his lips. He lets out a deep moan; you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. After a long moment, he licks at your lips, asking entrance. You grant it to him, and he starts slow, exploring your mouth. But it’s not long before he’s battling your tongue, then winning, and he ravages your mouth in deep, hungry, passionate kisses.

The hand on your ass gives it a firm squeeze mid-kiss, and you feel a jolt of pleasure - of need - start in your core. You moan into Argis’ mouth, and he continues the hungry kiss for a long moment, pulling away slowly.

“Oh, little lady,” he growls against your lips. “You have no idea how badly I want you. How badly I’ve wanted you.”

“How long?” You breathe against his lips. You let your hand leave his hair, reaching instead for his beard and toying with the blond hairs on his chin.

“Truthfully?” He asks, and you nod. He lets out a bark of laughter, a wry smile spreading across his lips. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you.”

“Really?” You ask, a little surprised - he had hidden it well, always professional towards you in the early days, and warm and kind towards you as your companionship blossomed.

“Aye,” he confirms, unabashed. Then, watching you carefully, the smile fading from his face, he adds, “And you?”

This time, it’s your turn to let a wry smile cross your lips, as you remember how handsome - how gorgeous, really - you’d thought the big Nord was when you first met him.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time, too, big man,” you admit. The smile he gives you this time is no longer wry - he seems relieved to hear you speak those words, perhaps even genuinely happy. He pulls you back into another hungry kiss; you meet his lips with yours enthusiastically, and as he again ravages your mouth, you grab at the enormous swell of his biceps, almost as if to steady yourself. You run your fingers over the thick, bulging muscle, marveling at the size of it, how your hand doesn’t cover even half of the swell of it, how the portion you can feel ripples under your hand with power. As you explore his body, Argis squeezes your ass again, and yet again, you feel that primal jolt of pleasure. You let out a sound in response to his ministrations - a sound that is, to your ears, surprisingly needy and submissive.

This seems to trigger something in Argis, as he grabs you and maneuvers you off his broad chest, rolling so that his powerful frame now hovers above you, supported on his elbows and knees. You rest one hand on his broad shoulders, and let the hand that had been exploring his biceps move under his shirt to his chest. You run your fingers through the thick blond curls that cover his pectorals, then grope at the enormous muscles themselves, unable to keep from thinking how many times these muscles of his had saved your life. Tenderly, Argis presses another gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, then works his way down your jawline and to your neck. You move your head to grant him more access, loving the way his full lips and bristly beard feel against your skin.

“Oh, little lady,” he moans, lips ghosting over your collarbone. Slowly, he lowers his hips down to rest partially atop you, some of his frame shifted to the side to keep from hurting you with his weight. As his hips come to rest atop yours, you feel the hard length of his manhood pressing into you, and you can’t help but note that your earlier name for him had been correct - he is a big man, both thick and long. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, and asks, “Is this okay for you?”

“More than okay,” you answer, grinding your hips up into his cock. He drops his head down into the crook of your neck again with a groan.

“I’m going to finally make you all mine tonight,” he rumbles, his lips against your skin.

“Please,” you breathe, grabbing at his heavily-muscled shoulders as he nips and sucks at your neck with renewed vigor. You slide your hand down from his pectorals, through his chest and body hair, to the ridges of his abdominal muscles, not yet daring to go too low - you want to enjoy feeling his body for a little longer first. You do, however, grind upwards into his manhood again, and feel him stiffen further against you. Argis grinds back down into you in response this time, and you moan to encourage him.

“And you want me to take you, don’t you, little lady?” He growls, continuing to grind into you. “You want your Housecarl to have his way with you.”

“I do,” you agree, sliding your hands just a little lower on his stomach.

"Then let’s get these clothes out of the way,” he suggests, grabbing the bottom hem of your linen shirt and starting to slide it up. You help him get yourself out of the garment, and while your hands make short work of your breast bindings underneath, Argis pulls his linen shirt off his frame. “By the Nine,” he groans when he sees your breasts laid bare before him, though you could say the same about his sculpted torso. He wastes no time, though, lowering his head to one breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple while one hand gropes and kneads at your other breast. You arch into his touch, desperate for more, but he pins you back down on the ground firmly. The hand that isn’t busy with your breast quickly gathers both your wrists up, pinning them above your head in a firm grip.

“Oh, Argis,” you moan, trying in vain to squirm against him for more pressure.

“You like the way I make you feel?” He asks, before doubling down on his assault on your nipple, flicking back and forth over it fast with his tongue.

“I do,” you agree.

“Good,” he murmurs, then pauses his ministrations to look up at you. “Because I’m going to fulfill your every desire tonight, lass. And when I’m done, you’ll know that no man can ever take care of you, as both your protector and lover, the way I can.” He moves to your other breast, first swirling it with his tongue, then flicking at it quickly.

“Argis,” you moan, halfheartedly wishing your hands were free so you could move his head down south a little- so he could put that tongue to use somewhere else.

“Promise me something,” he rumbles, this time without looking up at you.

“Anything,” you agree, all reservations gone. You’d give him just about anything right now.

“Promise me you’ll moan my name like that when you’re stuffed full with my cock,” he growls, pulling away from your nipple with a sharp scrape of his teeth.

Well. For someone who usually didn’t say anything that didn’t need to be said, he could certainly be a dirty talker in bed, you think to yourself.

The hand at your wrist releases you, and he moves to your waistband, pulling the linen pants and your undergarments down. You lift your hips obligingly, and soon, you lay completely bare before the Bulwark.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, letting his hands trail down your waist, over your hips, and over the tops of your thighs. The look he gives you is another of those heartbreakingly tender looks, and it occurs to you that Argis might not just want you - he might really love you, too.

The thought is gone a moment later as Argis maneuvers his own linen pants off himself, allowing his manhood to spring free. His cock bobs before you for a moment before flattening up against his belly.

“You’re huge,” you blurt, and it’s true - he’s so thick, you wonder if your hand would even be able to close around his base. Looking at him, the size difference between you, a Breton, and Argis, the largest Nord you’ve ever met, becomes more apparent than ever, and you wonder for a moment if he can even fit in you.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, reading the concern you struggle to conceal in your expression, leaning back over you. His thumb brushes your cheek gently. “I’ll make sure you’re ready for me. I promise I won’t hurt you. And if it does hurt, we’ll stop.” You reach up for Argis, your hand caressing his cheek in return. You have no doubt that he means what he says, and again, the thought that he might love you enters your mind. Staring up at him, the man who has served as your protector, who has carried you to safety, risked his life for you, and given you his unyielding friendship, you know you can trust him with everything and anything - including this.

“Okay,” you agree, and Argis smiles, pulling you in for another deep kiss. You reach up to his enormous body above you, feeling the thick cords of muscle rippling over his chest, once again running your hands through the soft blond curls of hair that cover his chest and belly.

“You’re gorgeous, you know,” you manage to tell him between open-mouthed kisses. He smiles against your lips.

“Oh. Thank you,” he mumbles, and you’re certain he almost sounds embarrassed, but still pleased. A moment later, his larger hand reaches for yours, and gently guides you just a little lower down his belly, until you are brushing against the tip of his manhood. He lets out a quiet hiss at the contact, and though he lets go of your hand, you know what it is he wants. You oblige, grabbing him at the base of his length - as you had suspected, your fingers don’t meet around him at his thickest part - and give a long pump up his shaft. When you slide back down his shaft, you take a moment to reach down to caress his balls, which are heavy and large in your palm.

You quickly return to pumping Argis up and down, and when you look away from his manhood, you see his eyes, heavily-lidded, watching you carefully. His hands are kneading your thighs, working further up them, until one hand reaches your core. He gently parts your folds, finding your clit and swirling his thumb around it. You moan and squirm under him, and he takes his other hand and pins you down at your hip, holding you in place. Continuing with the quick circles, he delves in between your folds with his fingers.

“Little lady,” he groans, “you’re so wet for me.”

“Of course,” you answer, your voice husky. “I want you so badly, Argis.”

“You’re going to have me,” the blond replies, slowly pressing one finger into you. Even his fingers are thick and long, and he takes a long moment, letting you adjust to the digit within you. Rather than begin to pump it in or out, however, he plays with the angle of it for a long moment, pressing against your front wall. It’s not long before he finds what he wants, and gently begins crooking his finger against the spot. Within moments, you’re seeing stars, the pleasure within you absolutely explosive.

“Oh, by the Nine, Argis,” you gasp, feeling the pressure against your hip intensify as the Bulwark has to work harder to hold you in place. “I - oh, Argis, that feels amazing.”

You get no response besides a low growl as Argis presses another finger into you, joining the first in its motion as his thumb keeps working away at your clit. The second finger begins to stretch you, and you try to grind into the feeling of fullness, forgetting about pumping Argis’ manhood for the moment. It’s not long before a third finger joins the first two; the sensation is almost painful, but you quickly adapt to it, spreading your legs just a bit more to accommodate Argis’ ministrations.

The pleasure is relentless, and you drop Argis’ manhood entirely to grasp at the pillow behind you with one hand and to grasp at Argis’ shoulders with the other. He watches you, seeing your pleasure build, and when you reach for the hand of his that rests on your hip, he obliges, taking your hand and holding it with a firm but gentle pressure. You hold to him tightly in return, grateful for the gentle point of connection between the two of you. Truthfully, you’re not sure if you’ve ever had sex good enough to make you cum like this, and you are feeling increasingly vulnerable before Argis, as he continues to stoke your pleasure relentlessly.

A stream of curses and cries of Argis’ name are falling from your lips, and the coil of pleasure is building ever more tightly within you. Finally, your orgasm breaks over you, slamming you in wave after wave of throbbing pleasure, and you tremble under Argis’ hands, crying his name one more time. He continues stroking you through it, eventually stilling his fingers within you, and slowly, the waves subside. In the end, you are left looking at the Bulwark, who is watching you like you’re the most gorgeous creature on Nirn.

“Fuck,” you breathe.

“Oh, little lady,” he groans, pulling his fingers out of you and smearing the fluids on them across his cock. “You’re so perfect.” He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, the feeling of his beard scratching against your lips and his chest hair against your breasts electrifying. You pull him into you hungrily, and you feel him smirk against your lips. “Do you want more of me, lass?”

“Please,” you manage, feeling Argis lower himself so that his hips rest between your legs.

“I love the sound of you begging for me,” he growls, moving so that the tip of his manhood presses against your slick folds. “Begging for your Housecarl, your protector.”

“Please, Argis. Please take me,” you repeat, sliding one hand down his broad back to grasp at his firm ass and try to push him towards you. He obliges, one of his hands lowering to his manhood to guide himself as he presses into you. His tip slides in more easily than you would have expected, and he continues pressing into you, stretching you, with a low groan. He stills halfway in, waiting for you to accommodate him, but you’re already so wet, so desperate for him, that you want more. You move against him, trying to take him in further, and he chuckles, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Ready for me, are you?” He sounds pleased as he eases himself the rest of the way in. You feel, for a moment, like he could split you in two, he’s so large. But then he starts moving in small, gentle thrusts, and the way he presses against all your walls, fills you and stretches you, is unrivaled. Slowly, he works up to larger thrusts, pulling back to watch you carefully for any signs of pain, but you’re already seeing stars, sensitive and excited from your last orgasm. “Doing okay?” He grunts.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Take me how you want. However hard you want.”

Argis wastes no time in obeying your order, his hips slamming into you suddenly. He sets a grueling rhythm, ravaging you with such force and power it’s all you can do to hold onto his shoulders through it. You wrap your legs around his muscular waist, offering him the opportunity to plow more deeply into you, and he takes it, never once breaking his rhythm.

A breathy moan comes out of you, followed by Argis’ name. Argis lets out a loud groan of your name in response - and then one of his enormous hands is at your neck, choking you with a gentle pressure as he continues to pound you. You feel even more pleasure coil within you at this, at your submission to the muscle-bound man fucking you without mercy.

Argis doesn’t change positions - he doesn’t need to. It’s not long before you’re coming undone on his cock, screaming his name to the heavens and clenching his manhood between your walls so tightly you feel that your orgasm may never end. He holds his pace through the waves of pleasure, but as you begin to wind down, you feel his movements becoming erratic, his hips stuttering in a desperate bid for more pleasure.

“Oh, love,” he gasps. “I’m close - I -”

Argis comes with a wordless roar, not unlike the ones you’ve heard him loose in battle, his cock shooting cum deep into you as he loses his pace entirely. Even as he rides through his orgasm, you feel the hot strands of his cum leaking down the insides of your thighs, threatening to spill onto the bedroll beneath you. Finally, he has spent himself, and he collapses above you, letting go of your throat to support some of his weight on his elbows, his face again buried in the crook of your neck.

You reach up from his shoulders to stroke his thick blond hair soothingly. Had he called you love, just then? Did he really mean it, you wonder, or was it just a figure of speech he’d used in the heat of the moment?

But when Argis raises his head from your shoulder to look at you, you see again that tenderness and adoration in his face, and you suspect that he really had meant to call you his love.

“Are you okay?” He asks, shifting off you and onto one shoulder, pulling you with him so you’re tucked against his body.

“More than okay,” you answer earnestly. “That was amazing.” Argis chuckles in response.

“I’m glad it was as good for you as it was for me. Let me get you cleaned up.” He disappears from the bedroll for a moment, moving to his rucksack. You can’t help but watch his form as he moves - from his impossibly broad shoulders to his narrow hips and powerful thighs, you’re amazed by how gorgeous he really is. When Argis returns, it’s with a small piece of cloth, and he cleans you gently until you have no more of his hot cum leaking from within you. He wipes himself clean quicly, too, then throws the cloth to the side. You’re grateful when he returns to the bedroll, which has begun feeling chilly without him.

“The smokeless fire has gone out,” Argis mumbles into your hair as he draws you back into his chest, tucked beneath his chin. You nestle into him gratefully.

“Couldn’t keep enough focus through all of that,” you laugh. He laughs, too, but asks,

“Are you cold? Do you want to start it again?” You pull back in mock surprise, amazed that the Nord had volunteered to put up with your magical proclivities for once.

“Are you actually asking for me to use magic?” You tease with a smile, but flick your hand out from the bedsheets, starting the smokeless fire above you again.

“Only until you’re warm again,” he returns, pulling you back into the warmth of his chest again.

“Fair enough,” you laugh, one hand playing with the golden curls on his chest. “After all, I don’t know what Skyrim would do if the mighty Dovahkiin froze to death tonight.”

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” Argis murmurs, his voice a deep rumble in his chest, reverberating throughout your body. His strong arms tighten around you, gently, protectively, and you feel the soft brush of his lips against your forehead.

“Nor I without you,” you murmur back, tipping your head up and managing to reach his lips for a return kiss. He kisses you back for a moment, then hums contentedly, deep in his throat, and tucks you back down under his chin.

“The Divines have blessed me,” Argis sighs. “This life is a hard one, at times, but by the Nine, am I blessed.” You wrap your arms around his chest, feeling the slow, soothing beating of his heart in his chest, and though you have a thousand – a million – questions for him, you don’t know how to ask any of them. Maybe they shouldn’t be asked, just yet.

“I’m blessed, too,” you whisper to Argis, and you know he hears you by the way he holds you just a little tighter. And not long after, the comfort of each other’s arms and the mead and the heat of the fire conspire to overtake you both and send you both to sleep.

#argis #argis the bulwark #argis skyrim #skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #reader insert #the elder scrolls #blizzard in the reach #the elder scrolls fanfiction

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kelleesioverhere · 4 years

Note

For the fanfic ask meme: A1, A8, A9, B5, B10, C3-C6, D8 and D10 😁💚 I have a lot I wanna know from! 😜🤷🏻‍♀️

A1. When did you start reading fanfiction?

Oh my gosh I can’t remember that far back! I honestly can’t remember how I even found out about it and got started? I’m going to guess 2005 ish but this could really be off. I remember I was fairly young though and setting my ratings on FF.net to ‘T’ only to avoid all the ‘lemons’ which are now my fave thing, HAHA

A8. What was your first fandom? Are you still in that fandom now?

Harry Potter! The only fandom I participate in these days is GoT and the only thing I care about is Gendrya, I have a one-track mind

A9. Who was your first ship?

Oh gosh again with my terrible memory... I remember reading James/Lily fics in the early days! I was also a huge fan of The O.C. and a diehard Seth/Summer supporter

B5. Which story have you read more than any other? How many times?

It has to go to love, war and a few things in between by @scrubclubwrites

I think I have read it 4 times since it’s been complete? But this doesn’t count when it was a WIP and I kept re-reading the posted chapters as I desperately awaited updates :)

It just makes me so so so happy

B10. What is the best plot twist you’ve ever seen?

For a couple reasons I would say this goes to The Beauty in the Deadly Things by @jenevajensen!

Hopefully this doesn’t count as spoiling the story, LOL but having Gendry’s ‘3′ result in illegitimate children is something that I didn’t ever consider and haven’t seen anyone else explore. It took me by surprise but also ended up being so much better than I ever would have expected and I’m so happy I read it!

C3. Is there anything that makes you nope out of a story? What is it?

I think I am a bit of a picky bitch when it comes to fics, oops! I could go on and on but I will try to refrain LOL

My number one problem is that I am all about the slow burn. I have the hardest time staying invested once the relationship becomes established. (Established relationship fics therefore are all pretty much a no for me, hahaha)

I struggle with poor grammar/spelling as well. I know all fic writers are doing it in their own time and for fun, but having lots of errors really distracts me and I can’t properly enjoy the story.

I also can’t deal when it’s all too soft? Does that make sense? If it reads like it would make a nice Hallmark movie I just can’t do it (I think I’m not very ‘romantic’ so these stories seem unrealistic even though it could very well be how other people are. It just doesn’t resonate with me)

(Also if I feel the characterization is really off -

I’ll stop now because this list is getting way too long, I’m so sorry)

C4. What thing that fandom loves do you actually kind of hate? Why?

This is officially the hardest question, I’ve answered all of the others and I’ve been stuck on this one for so long hahaha! I don’t hate much, I am pretty easy going honestly

Okay I can only think of one thing, I have to go with having characters be sexually inexperienced but immediately perfect and amazing and completely confident? I think the idea of them not having many (or any) previous sexual encounters is very sweet and it CAN work but it has to be done a certain way (in my opinion of course ;) )

C5. What character that fandom loves are you just kinda “meh” about? Why?

Okay this is hard. I feel like I love all the characters other than the clearly deplorable ones.

Maybe Robb? Lol

(I do love Robb. But sometimes I completely forget about him, so I’ll have to pick him for this. Poor guy.)

C6. Is there anything in canon that made you want to quit the show? What was it? Why did you hate it?

Well the whole ending of GoT but unfortunately it was the END so there wasn’t really an opportunity for me to quit the show, hahahahahahahahahaha.

I am all about the romance, so I was very disappointed in the lack of LOVE at the end of the show. I just felt like they spent seasons building up relationships (or bringing them back for the final season like they did with Gendrya) only to dash them all apart and I felt like it was a giant waste of my time and all of my emotional investment LOL

I hate any ending that made me feel like I wasted my time or makes me go ‘what was the POINT of all of this then’? And that pretty much sums up 8.03-8.06

D8. Which fandoms do you read fic for?

GENDRYA I care about nothing else

D10. What is one story idea you really want to read but no one has written yet?

Oh gosh hmm. I love all ‘fairytale’ AUs, and I feel like we could use some more.

Suggestion:

Sleeping Beauty AU where Gendry is our Sleeping Beauty. He grows up in the woods in secret as his family attempts to keep him safe, and by chance one day he meets fierce Princess Arya who is out adventuring. They fall in love (not in one day, let’s have them meet in secret who knows how many times), but unfortunately she is betrothed (to him - but she doesn’t know that). She tells her family she won’t marry any stupid prince, she loves the boy from the woods. Unfortunately Gendry is captured and put under a deep spell and Arya finds out his true identity and she has to go save him

This whole premise just makes me laugh and puts a smile on my face

Someone indulge me and my need for ridiculous shenanigans

Thank you for the asks @always-aaack-for-everlark, I know this is stupidly long but I had lots of fun answering these!

#asks #fanfic reader asks

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werejusttouchingeachother · 4 years

Text

SEOUL 2018 [August 10th, 4:27PM]

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 T/W: angst - mentions of abuse, depression, suicide, cursing Words: 4171

It was almost two months later when you finally met Baekhyun again after the night he left New York. He’d been at the dorms and you’d felt more terrified than you had been when you first launched your boutique.

Manager had ushered you inside quickly, immediately making you feel awkward as your eyes met Junmyeon and Sehun who were sitting on the couch and watching something on the television.

“Y/N,” Junmyeon called your name in surprise as he quickly stood up, wide eyes exchanging glances with Manager behind you. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I don’t think anyone did, Hyung,” Sehun mutters, giving you a small smile. “Hi, Noona. It’s been a long time. I missed you.”

You smile fondly at that, tense shoulders loosening at his contagious warmth. “I missed you too, Sehun.”

“I’m mad at you, though.” He crossed his arms. “You never called. Or responded to my texts.”

You flinched, expecting this accusation from the youngest member who’d always had the most fun teasing you and who you knew would take your silent treatment the hardest—not when you’d spent days and nights sending each other funny memes and pictures of dogs with bad haircuts almost on a daily basis only to suddenly ghost him.

“Yeah, I just…” you trail off and shake your head, knowing excuses were in vain. “I’m sorry. I should have replied.”

Sehun blinks at your sincere apology, not having expected it and his face clouds over with worry at your seriousness.

“Sehun,” Jun says, nudging him. “You can catch up with her later.” He gives you a meaningful look as he asks, “Y/N, aren’t you here to—?”

“Yeah, I’ll go check,” Manager says, turning to your left in the direction of the rooms. You grab his arm to stop him.

“Does he…?” You trail off and Manager hesitates before nodding.

“I told him that you landed here today morning.” He pauses before saying, “I think he’s expecting you.”

You waited in the hallway then as all the members slowly filed out of their rooms, giving you polite formal smiles (Jongin, Yixing and Jongdae), wary looks (Minseok and Kyungsoo) or blatantly ignored your presence (Chanyeol).

You didn’t say anything. If any of them knew what had exactly happened, you were sure that it had to be Chanyeol.

All of them joined Junmyeon and Sehun in the hall, the farthest room from Baekhyun’s to give you as much privacy as they could within a dormitory. Bowing your head in thanks, you walk past Manager and head for the right door at the end of the hallway.

Taking a deep breath, you raise your hand and knock gently on the door. You can hear the silence of the usually noisy dorm and it doesn’t help the way your heart is pounding against your rib-cage, your stomach twisting with anxiety.

The door opens then and your breath catches as your eyes fall on Baekhyun.

His hair is dishevelled and his clothes are drabby, hanging off him in a way that you knew all too-well that he had been wearing them for a while. His cheeks are hollow and your eyes run over his clothes, growing frustrated when you realise they’re too large to figure out whether he’d lost weight.

“You haven’t been eating,” Baekhyun says, his tone flat and your eyes fly back up to his face in surprise. You feel your skin rise with goosebumps at hearing his voice after so long and your eyes sting with unshed tears that you have to forcibly blink back.

“I…” You clear your throat before raising an eyebrow at him. “Neither have you. Your face has grown thinner.”

“What is this, a competition?” He rolls his eyes, stepping away to let you in.

“If it is, nobody is winning!” You hear Sehun shout from the hall, making you roll your eyes.

“Sehun, shut up!” Baekhyun yells as he closes the door behind him. You bite your lip as you look around the familiar room that was almost a home to you at one point—a point that seemed entirely too long ago now.

“Did you wear lipstick? Or did you chew it all off?” Baekhyun asks, pointing out your usual nervous habit and your gaze shifts back to him as he sits in his gaming chair, opposite the bed that looked unusually tidy.

He hasn’t been sleeping.

“Did you sleep at all this past week?” You shoot back, crossing your arms as you sit down on the bed and cock your head at the neatly made sheets. “Or leave that seat? How long have you been gaming in those clothes?”

“Why do you care?” Baekhyun snaps and you sigh, leaning back as you square your shoulders and remind yourself not to follow his childish antics.

“I didn’t come here to fight, Baek,” you start, trying to gather your thoughts. “I—”

“Y/N.” His voice is sharp enough that you stop, eyebrows rising as he inhales deeply before saying, “If you’re here to break up, just leave. I haven’t processed a lot since New York but I’m not numb enough that I can sit here and listen to you end everything. Being here in Korea must be killing you anyway so just leave and I’ll consider it the end. Let’s not make this any harder than it—”

“Shut the fuck up, Baekhyun,” you snap, eyes narrowed in disbelief as you gape at him. “Is that what you want to do? New York to be our last conversation? Just leave a two-years-long relationship like this?” You shake your head, holding up your hand to stop whatever he was going to say as you interrupted, “I’ll leave soon, don’t worry. As soon as I’m done telling you what I have to tell you.”

He falls silent, eyes watching you carefully and you take a breath before starting. “I told you something that night two months ago. Before you said that I shouldn’t be feeling that way. Something about my childhood. Do you remember?”

Baekhyun nods slowly. “You said that you’ve never been enough for your parents from when you were young. And I made you feel like that again, yeah, that’s burned into my memory, don’t worry.”

You shake your head, shooting him a look. “That first part, yes. The second part, no. This is what I flew out here to tell you, face-to-face. What I should have told you that night.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you take a second to muster the courage to say what you’re going to say. Baekhyun immediately notices your hesitation, his eyes clouding with worry at the obvious storm raging inside your mind right now.

It almost makes you smile—the fact that he could still read you like an open book. Despite all the pain, all the misunderstanding, all the conflicting emotions that were stirred up amongst both of you, he still worried about you, your thoughts, your nervous habits and your weight.

“My parents came from well-reputed families,” you started, leaning back against the wall. “It was an arranged marriage, a union that was more of a business deal than that of love. They weren’t chaebols or anything but they were well-off and had a long uninterrupted line of sons on my father’s side that always took over the business and carried it forward.”

Baekhyun’s face falls at this, already knowing where this was headed as you continued, “They wanted a boy. When I was born, it was more of a shock than anything. They tried a lot for a second child but my mother had some health issues and there were complications. So they were stuck with me and I was… never enough. I did everything they wanted me to do, always obeying their insane rules and never had any fun the way other kids did. I used to draw a lot from when I was a kid and they would rip my drawings apart, throw my colours away. I’d get into trouble if I didn’t do the homework or scored anything less than hundred on tests. I used to cry at school and my teacher told me that they do it because they love me, because they care. That most parents are strict so the kids will grow to be really smart.”

“So I studied hard. Began to buy separate notebooks to draw in and hide them where they wouldn’t find them. I lived by the rules they made, all through middle school and high school—it was always hell, I was always wishing to get away. I never even dared to like someone as a teenager because I feared what would happen at home if they found out. I didn’t have any friends because they discouraged it, said it was a distraction. They’d decided on the day of my birth that since I couldn’t take over the business, I’d follow the highest position for a woman—medicine. Their words, not mine. So then, I joined medical school and when I had to draw more bodies and organs than the clothes that went on it, I snapped. I had a phase where I stopped attending classes, where I failed all the exams and almost got suspended. It was a highly prestigious school so they called in my parents and they paid heftily to keep me at school, promising that I’d make up for it.”

You pause then, lowering your head and taking a breath since the next thing was particularly difficult to voice out loud.

“That was the second time my father hit me,” you say in a hoarse voice, clearing your throat before continuing, “The first time was in elementary when they found my doodles for the first time on my books. The teacher had sent a note to them, suggesting to join an art class because I drew more than I wrote notes and they beat me till I was black and blue. They told me that art was for idiots, that things like drawing, writing, acting and singing would never get me anywhere in life. After that was when I started my preparation for medical school. After I failed that too, I thought they would understand then or at least try. But they beat me again. And I thought I’d kill myself so, I ran away from home.”

You glance at him, smiling slightly. “That time we were at Tokyo, you were so surprised when I didn’t want to take pictures together under the cherry blossom trees. It’s not because I was cold that night—it’s because cherry blossoms always reminds me of that night I ran out in Korea. They were all I could see when I looked up and they were so pretty that it felt like they were mocking me. That was the first time I wished I could look up at the sky and see the Eiffel Tower, wish that I could be at Paris where I could draw freely and just live for myself.”

“And that’s when I realised that I was going to kill myself when I hadn’t ever lived. Not once, not even for a day, had I lived for myself. It was always for my parents and they never even appreciated my efforts or tried to understand me.”

You look up then, smiling although you couldn’t see him because your eyes were tearing up. “The only time that I lived was when I designed. I had nothing to lose. There was no one to please so I thought I’d fully meet the criteria of such a worthless disappointing child. I started dreaming about Paris and my boutique—I started dreaming of skies where I could look up and see the Eiffel.”

Baekhyun’s expression is unreadable but you continue, “You know the rest from here. I lied about going for classes and instead worked many part-time jobs. I saved up just enough money for one of the cheapest flights to Paris but it wasn’t enough, of course not. I got kicked out of school and I didn’t wait to get kicked out of home too—I used all the money I’d saved to move out instead and started working at Korea. Three years later, about the time all my friends were graduating from college, I finally had enough to go to Paris. For seven months, I struggled and starved and almost died because of how poor I was before my designs finally caught the eye of someone who saw my potential. I became his apprentice.”

You take a deep breath and grabbed the pillow from his bed, hugging it in your lap because your hands were shaking.

“I have a lot of issues with my parents, Baekhyun,” you state aloud, looking at him. “My childhood was traumatic for me and there’s a lot that I’ve been suppressing from when I was a kid. I’m insecure when people show me affection because I’m not used to receiving it, I have anxieties about whether they will leave so I think I should leave first because I always tend to think I don’t deserve whatever love I get. Seoyeon is a clear example of that as my only friend—the only one I’ve trusted enough to get close to me.”

“I moved out of the apartment after you left.” His eyebrows rise at this and you explain, “It felt lonelier when you were gone. It was too big and memories kept haunting me, I was always going crazy with my own thoughts so I decided to move into a smaller place.”

You paused then, inhaling softly as you felt your shoulders lighten like you’d just lifted a burden, one that had been weighing down on you for almost all your life. Feeling your heart race slightly because of the next thing you were going to say, you mentally prepared yourself for all the negative possibilities before continuing.

“I’m going for therapy,” you declare, watching his eyes widen in surprise at this. “Seoyeon told me that if I never deal with my past, it’s always going to affect any relationship that I have. I started almost as soon as you left and all these things I told you, Baekhyun, they’re-they’re just the surface of it. You know that I hate coming back to Korea even though you didn’t know exactly why. Same with the cherry blossom trees. There’s a lot more that I can’t tell you, a lot that I can only tell my therapist because it’s difficult for me to admit it openly, even to myself. But at the same time, these are the things I should have talked to you about, like you told me that night at New York. I let my insecurities get to my head and projected it onto you which was unfair.”

You place the pillow back and stand up then, looking down at him.

“I understand and accept everything you said that night,” you state, Baekhyun gazing up at you unblinkingly. "We don’t have to go public. We never do. I don’t care about that and I don’t think I ever did. The party that night, the way everyone was so welcoming… it made me question if I was even worth standing around such people. If I was worthy of your love and care.”

“And that is not your fault, Baekhyun,” you clearly enunciate, knowing he was going to interrupt with the opposite statement. “Those are just my fears stemming from my shitty childhood. Apparently my first instinct when shown love is to fight and then flee. But I know now that it’s not a matter of worth—you’ve only loved and cared for me, unconditionally, even when I’ve been closed off and so difficult.”

“I…” You trail off, heavy emotion weighing down on your chest suddenly and making you choke on your words as you hoarsely say, “I’ve only known darkness, Baekhyun, so when you shone down on me with all your light, I got blinded. I was an idiot and I fucked up something that was beautiful and the best thing that ever happened to me. But I can see clearer now for the first time in my life and I know better. And I know that I love you. So much that I am even willing to be mysterious Mrs. Byun X forever. No one has to know about us or me and I couldn’t care less.”

You take a breath then, meeting his gaze. “I’m opening the door again, Baek. And I’m giving you the same option I did last time except now, I can promise you that I do not care about being hidden and I also promise to try and fight my demons from wrecking what we have. If we have it again.”

Baekhyun blinks at you, pouty lips parted open as he gapes at you like a fish and you nod, stepping to the door slowly.

“You don’t have to answer right now,” you reassure him, forcing yourself to smile even though you were beyond terrified. “I know it’s a lot to take at once. Manager has the address of my hotel and I’m staying for a week. Or you can just text me, if you don’t want to see me. He has my number too.”

Baekhyun doesn’t say a word and you feel your heart crack slightly in your chest as you nod, biting down on your lip and turn to the door.

Swallowing heavily, you mutter, “Goodbye, Bae—”

You’re spun around by a death grip on your arm then, eyes widening as you look up at Baekhyun standing right in front of you.

“No,” he said, shaking his head as he dragged you back to the bed. He placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you down forcibly, ordering, “Sit.”

“How can you leave like that?” Baekhyun asked, disbelief colouring his tone. “I didn’t even speak yet.”

You blink at his glare, stammering, “I mean-I just-I didn’t want you to feel pressured—”

“Y/N, it’s been two fucking months,” he snorts, shooting you a look. He retrieves his hands from your shoulders and lowers himself to the floor at your feet.

“You know that you can just sit beside me?” You ask, glaring down at him as a sudden memory flashes vividly in your mind. “Or back on that seat across from me?”

He shrugs as he sits cross-legged, looking up at you. The room’s light was right behind you and it shone down right on his face that made it look like he had stars in his eyes and you wondered if it was bright enough to hurt him.

“I want to look at you,” he says quietly.

“You’re sitting the same way you did that night,” you remind him softly, biting down on your lip.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion before he realises, eyes softening as he takes your hand from your lap slowly.

“I’m not leaving this time,” Baekhyun assured you gently, giving you a small smile as he played with your fingers. He raises his other hand to your face and tugged your lower lip loose from your teeth, shaking his head at you and giving you a warning look, the way he always used to whenever you kept gnawing at your lips.

He sits back and gives you a cheeky smile then. “Technically, I can’t. You came here to the dorms so I don’t really have anywhere to go from here—”

“I missed you,” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. His smile freezes at your words and you blink back the tears gathering furiously as you corrected in a softer tone, “I miss you.”

“Me too,” he murmurs, intertwining your fingers together. He grips your hand tightly and seems to struggle as he forces the next words out, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you. Therapy and dealing with everything from your past can’t have been easy. I should have been there, I shouldn’t have left—”

“Baek, no,” you grab his hand holding yours with your other hand, shaking your head vehemently at him. “It’s good that you did. I needed to get my shit together—about me, about us. I needed to do it, it was time.”

He looks into your eyes, voice meek as he asks, “Are you okay?”

You start to nod and he tightens his grip on your hand again as he repeats, “No, Y/N. Really… are you okay?”

You pause, swallowing slightly as you look down at both your hands. “It’s… a lot. There’s a lot that I’m remembering and reliving that I don’t want to. But that’s how I can make peace with it, how I can stop—” You take a shaky breath, choking as you finish, “—stop hurting myself. And stop myself from hurting you.”

“Oh, god, Y/N.” Baekhyun lets go of your hands then, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You still at the sudden unexpected embrace and he pulls you down from the bed onto his lap, hugging you tightly to him.

Your entire body seems frozen as you find yourself on the floor with him, his arms clutching you tightly to him.

“Baek,” you whisper, practically trembling in his arms when you feel his warmth singe into your skin. He is as warm as you remember him and when his scent, your instant comforter, flooded your nose after missing it for what felt like forever—you’re almost ready to cry.

He pulls away to look at you, shaking his head as he whispers, “Please don’t cry, baby, it kills me.”

His hands cup your face and you close your eyes, leaning into his touch as you sigh softly. You open your eyes and almost melt when you see the way he’s staring at you.

It reminded you of Paris—the way he looked at you every night when he said ‘goodbye’ at the door of your hotel room, a gaze that lingered and that you were reluctant to break away from.

Despite saying it already, you repeat, “I miss—”

Baekhyun closes the gap between your mouths, his plush lips pressing against yours tenderly as he held your face in his hands. You closed your eyes, responding instantly while your hands fist into the front of his shirt, clutching him tightly as if you were afraid he’d slip away.

He kisses you back just as fervently, holding you gently as if he didn’t want to break you. The kiss tastes as sweet as the first, your heart thudding against your chest and butterflies erupting in your stomach as if it was your first time.

You pull away to breathe with your eyes still closed and he presses his forehead against yours, feeling your breaths intermingle. Your eyelids flutter open and his thumb wipes a stray tear that had streaked down your cheek.

“I missed you too,” he breathes, pressing another kiss to your mouth. He lingers before pulling away, lowering his hands from your face as his eyes meet yours with determination before muttering, “Fuck it.”

You blink. “What?”

“Fuck it. I love you. We’ll make it through this, through everything—my job, your past, everything. We walked into this thinking our biggest problem would be the distance and we’ve overcome that. It’s… it’s fine. I can’t lose you again, Y/N. These two months have been hell, I’ve just been going crazy in here.” Baekhyun takes in a shaky breath, grabbing your hands from his chest and staring at your joined fingers. “Hyungnim told me that you needed some space and I thought it was over so I broke down but then he told me to wait, that you just needed some time. I thought you’d made your decision and the reason you weren’t reaching out was because you didn’t want to… be with me anymore.”

You shake your head and lean forward, kissing him. “That’s not… you know I can’t leave you, Baekhyun.”

“Then don’t.”

You smile, nodding slightly. “I won’t.” You hesitate, biting your lower lip as you ask timidly, “Does this mean that you’re walking in through the open door again?”

He smiles then, cheeks puffing and eyes shining as he replies, “Well, you know what they say. Love is an open door.”

“Literally betrayed her and left her to die but okay, Hans,” you tease and he rolls his eyes.

“Fine.” He grins, releasing your hands and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you into his chest. “Then… oh, right. Paris. Love is your open arms.”

You roll your eyes teasingly, snorting, “Always so cheesy.”

“Shut up, you love it.” Baekhyun drops a kiss on the top of your head and you close your eyes, smiling at how much you’d missed the gesture—genuinely smiling with your heart feeling full for the first time in months. Your veins that had gone numb after so much time apart finally felt alive, filling with the ethereal golden rays as he basked you in his contagious warmth.

Your sunshine.

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