#I’ll put this under a read more. soon. I’m on mobile
Text
This essay? Can you call this an essay? Surely you could but, you’re reading this on a tumblr post, so for now let’s call it an essay. This essay is going to be breaking down the cinematography techniques Sausage used in the opening to episode thirty one of his second Empires SMP season. I’m also going to go into why these work so well, and what they imply, a fair warning, this will be long, and I’m taking this 100% seriously. I’ll be using the correct terms for the things I’m talking about too, I’ll presumably have a list of definitions at the end of the post, and if it gets too long and I decide to not include that this link has every definition I will have used in this essay. Now that’s out of the way, let’s start from the beginning.
I’d like to first talk about the music, this is the first thing that really hit me when I was watching the episode for the first time (and the multiple rewatches I’ve done of the intro since then), and the effect it has on the person watching it depending on prior knowledge to Octagon as a whole.
Firstly, viewers of Ren and Doc’s season 8 will know that Octagon’s signature for their ‘cutscene’ music was very heavy metal inspired, it’s powerful music that The Octagon is absolutely deserving of, its intense sound helps the viewers understand what Ren and Doc are trying to portray. Octagon was built to utilise lightning as a powersource and employed game breaking technology in game to create some of its prominent features (Power Node 1, The OctaPortal, ect). Because of this, the shift to orchestral music as it’s introduction in Sausages opening is so incredibly interesting. Strings take the forefront of the music Sausage uses here, and strings are often used to portray elegance and grandiose, something Octagon wasn’t given in Season 8 itself. Octagon was threatening, but never elegant, always being added to, that process of violent construction the heavy metal symbolised is gone here, there’s nothing being added to The Octagon. And the music crescendos with each panning shot, emphasising the power this place holds, even just aesthetically, getting more and more powerful as it rises like a Wave. The dichotomy between Octagon's previous violent, aggressive and powerful portrayal through the music Ren and Doc use, and the elegant, imposing orchestral music Sausage uses, both to portray the same thing, is incredible. Octagon was awarded its elegance in death, and the music choices here reflect this beautifully.
People who never watched season 8, who have no idea what Octagon's whole deal was, are seeing this place in its tomb. It's an elegant coffin and that’s all they’ll know it for unless they go and watch season 8, and I think that’s wonderful, because it’s what Octagon deserved.
Next I’d like to draw attention to the shots in the opening itself, so we’ll start and progress through these in chronological order.
Firstly, we have a sweeping shot of the Lower left side of octagon, containing the base for the elevated boardroom, and the fully charged central power node, it’s an incredibly strong start to the episode, with the scale of Octagon being shown through the height of the warped vines that cover the islands floor. The wide angle shot used in this scene helps make the viewer feel small and vulnerable in comparison to the powerful elegance of The Octagons architecture.
It then cuts to another, fairly low angle shot of the bridge, the sun is positioned behind the massive mechanical bacteriophage that holds up Octagon’s bridge, this shot utilises and amazing use of chiaroscuro and creates a sense of unease in the viewer, the blotting out of the light and the emphasis on the size of the structure continues to aide the threatening aura Sausage is clearly trying to portray. Both these shots (as well as many many other shots in this opening, utilise the ocean as a means to portray scale, the ocean is usually seen as quite a large and domineering thing, you can’t get much bigger than the ocean, however, due to the framing of the shots the ocean and surrounding landmass The Octagon sits on, completely dwarfs the viewable ocean. And it helps create a beautiful sense of unease, and powerlessness.
The next shot is my favourite in the entire opening, a tight, zoom shot of the inside of Octagon itself, the sleek glass flooring reflects the dark walls of The Octagon itself, and it really truly does present itself as an grandiose structure just due to the use of shaders, the slow zoom into the center of Octagon itself; It’s almost reminiscent of the evil lair in a spy movie. Octagon looks sleek, polished, the high walls and the tight shot create almost an air of claustrophobia, that’s only offset by Octagon's open roof plan, and the sheer scale of it, knowing the walls visible are three walls of eight. This shot really helps establish Octagon as a powerhouse and to indulge in a little anthropomorphism, a Baroness.
Our fourth shot is an Aerial view, with a high angle shot, a slow zoom out from the LOGZ Crane and its cargo. This high positioned zooming out from a central point really helps gauge a sense of scale here, only one and a half walls of the overall structure are shown in this shot, once again, using Octagon itself, and now the LOGZ Crane to dwarf both the island and the ocean around it. Our music is rising too as these sweeping shots help guide the eye to the important parts of the shot, adding to the mise en scene of the opening.
Moving on to the 5th shot in the opening, I’m actually going to talk about the music some more here, but this shot, a beautiful zoom shot of the bridge, covered by the calcite coral reef, is paired expertly with the introduction of a louder brass instrument in the orchestral score, these two elements together contribute to help provide that dramatic, powerful flair that Sausage is trying to convey in each of these shots. The music here perfectly fits the pace of the shot when paired with the illusion at a deep focus shot here on the Phange (sadly something not possible within the world of Minecraft). This continues to build up this sense of vulnerability and powerlessness in seeing The Octagon rising up out of the ocean. Sausage utilises a quick switch from a shallow depth of feel to a deep depth of field to create the illusion of a deep focus shot on the Bridge.
We now come to another of my favourite shots. Octagon’s right wall, with a slow pull out, with its name etched in the side in Bright Blue Copper. Once again the ocean is used to portray the sheer size of The Octagon here, with liminal land viewable, all these ocean shots help to aid a sense of loneliness that each of these shots have been oozing out. The Octaportal is visible in this shot, and very briefly, so is Sausage, the inclusion of Sausage himself is a powerful tool too, He’s almost unnoticeable against the sharp spires and spindly legs of Octagon, and it really does aid to this Real sense of unease, scale and the aforementioned vulnerability.
Here we get the near climax of our crescendo, the wave of music has ramped up as we focus our attention on Sausage, a close up shot on him that barely lasts a second, but is so important. Sausage is our protagonist here, He’s the character we see the world through, who we must trust to portray things as they are. He should be the most important thing in this shot, and yet our camera pulls out, and he is rendered unimportant against the violent architecture of The Octagon. Sausage isn’t important here, he’s a spec on the impact of this world, a visitor, an observer; and this sprawling, wide angled shot portrays this Perfectly. Sausage is not who we should be turning our gaze to here.
And at last our final shot. We are greeted with a tight centered view of the OctaPortal itself, a creation only possible through game breaking, a feat of this size deserves its own shot, we have another zoom in, a centered shot focusing entirely on the portal itself, where Ren emerges from, his clothing a stark contrast against the purple of the portal, Ren is in the Center of the shot. He is who we must pay attention to, he created half of this insane structure, in its threatening elegance and our focus is drawn to him.
However, in these two shots, an interesting thing happens. Our zoom out from the Sausage shows the scale of The Octagon. But the zoom in to Ren, focuses him in the shot, and yet never allows him to take up a large portion of it, it’s symbolic of how this was a monumental task, the workload and goal Doc and Ren carried on their shoulders was meant to be shared, not shouldered alone.
All of this together carefully rewraps Octagon, and gives it the recognition it deserved. Octagon was a Monumental feat, a beautiful mix of jagged violent architecture and classy elegance. This will be some peoples first introductions to The Octagon. This behemoth of a Building style, of a story, shared between Doc and Ren. And it feels cathartic to me as someone who holds Season 8 and The Octagon close to my heart, to have it be shown in the way, I presume, Ren and Doc wanted to present it too. It’s an amazingly well edited opening, the timings with the music and reveals of each section are utterly amazing, and Sausage, whether he intended to or not, created a beautiful homage to a silly corporation; that whilst it made no money, looked positively cool as shit
#wolf howls#empires smp#Hermitcraft#empires spoilers#rendog#docm77#mythicalsausage#I’m so sorry#but here’s the essay.#I’ll put this under a read more. soon. I’m on mobile
114 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dark Road Thoughts
I’ve been super busy; but I’ve got some time and I’ve digested what happened in DR. I’ll put everything under a Keep Reading for those who use mobile and those who don’t have tags blacklisted.
What I will say here is: good story. I just hope it gets the UX/Back cover treatment.
If you are brave enough to read past the Keep Reading; be warned, its very rambly as I’m not great with organising my thoughts properly.
I’m actually really surprised I predicted the story to some extent!
I said in my Dark Road Daemons post:
“Learning that there was a character called Baldr- I think I know where this story is going. Baldr is going to be killed/struck down- and I suspect it’s going to be Xehanort doing it. As it’s Baldr- A Norse god so beloved he’s said to give off radiant light, killed by Loki that brought upon the beginnings of Ragnarok. How Xehanort will do it, willingly or not, I don’t know, but the story of Dark Road is still new, and there’s lots of possibilities.”
Well; it seems that the roles of ‘Loki’/Xehanort and Baldr were somewhat reversed! with Baldr being ‘antagonist’ and ‘Loki’ not.
It was kind of hard to watch Baldr being chained up like that, and even more so when Xehanort did strike him down- almost without hesitation it seemed.
The upper classmen were lots of fun too; I think my favourite of them was Vidar. when I saw a name pop up, I googled it to see what Norse myth they were from; with Vidar being the one who will strike the heart of Fenrir in revenge of a slain Odin.
I liked that, that characterisation was turned into the Vidar we got, with wanting to purge the world and take vengeance on the Darkness for slaying his friends.
Staying on the Norse theme; as soon as I found out Baldr’s sister’s name, that's when I started to feel nervous, since in the myth its Hoder that kills Baldr by Loki’s doing-- and we almost saw that take place when Hoder placed herself in Xehanort’s heart and confronted Baldr- only then to attack him.
but wow; I’m getting way too excited about Norse myth and Parallels there's a few more I could list off, I think!
I will say; I really, really like Bragi. He was on my team a lot mainly because of his protect ability. I thought he was a cool character...
But as soon as he said ‘As If’ I was ready to throw my phone across the room. I couldn’t believe Luxu hijacked him. I don’t even know if he was Luxu all along or he hijacked Bragi in the world of the dead. Now if there’s a new character I like, I’m going to have trust issues because I don’t know if that’s just Luxu hijacking another person or not, haha...
There’s so many moments I liked; from them exploring familiar worlds, to the class interacting with one another; or the constant making-fun-of Eraqus, it was great.
I’m not usually an emotional person- but I did have a catch in my throat at the end where Eraqus also bought flowers to the graves... and that Xehanort said that he heard him crying all night for a week...
and seeing them all get struck down by Baldr... it hurt, especially Vor, since I grew attached to her; it hurt when she left Eraqus and Xehanort with Vidar, and it hurt when she died.
BUT; getting to a scene I was excited to see- Vanitas actually talking to Xehanort! and it seems Xehanort wasn’t just using Vanitas as a ‘pure darkness’ to make a X-blade, but also to see if he could track the other darknesses down. AND my suspicions are also raised that Vanitas just wants to be his own person; Darkness or not, I hope that means that in the future, he’ll be alongside the ‘Heros’; since it'd be hypocritical for Sora to want Roxas to be his own person, but not Vanitas- just saying.
There’s a million other things I’d like to type about, but honestly, I think I’ve rambled enough.
One more thing: Master Odin sucks and if he were a better person, Baldr would never have opened his heart to darkness.
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
On her own (Fan Fiction)
[Picking up where S4 ended] - Part 7
\\ Read Part 6 here \\
Hajek held a gun to Lucy’s back while they hurried through a dark corridor. Lucy blinked several times, trying to adjust her eyes.
Screw this, she thought.
Lucy faked a stumble and ducked to make a run for it. She didn’t get far before an elbow connected with her temple, knocking her off balance.
“I was hoping I’d get a chance to knock that smile off your face,” she heard one of Hajek’s men growl. She was pretty sure it was the goon who had the gun fixed on her earlier.
She lifted herself to her hands and knees to get back up and he grabbed her from under her arms.
She twisted her body and pulled him down. He let out an oof when he hit the floor and she rolled to the side. Before she could get up, the other man was on top of her.
They captured her arms and legs and carried her the rest of the way. Once out of the tunnel, she saw two black SUVs parked in what appeared to be the bottom level of a garage.
She was pushed into the front seat and buckled into place. Hajek climbed into the driver’s side. He kept his right hand on the wheel and his left on his lap holding a gun pointed toward her torso.
Both cars quickly pulled out of the parking garage, but not so speedily that they’d draw unnecessary attention. The windows were illegally tinted and it would be impossible for people on the street to see who was behind the wheel.
Lucy started to ask a question. Hajek glared and tightened his finger around the trigger.
She kept her mouth shut while he drove, even though her pulse was pounding so hard in her ears that she was sure Hajek could hear it.
As soon as they hit the onramp for the freeway, her heart sank.
The team was too late. They hadn’t had time to mobilize rescue operations.
She was on her own.
********************
Tim walked into the interrogation room where Jake was waiting for him.
“Yo, brother!” Jake smiled at him broadly.
“I’m not your brother.” Tim bit off.
Jake held up his hands, “Whatever, man.”
“I need you to tell me about every location you’ve been to while working for Hajek.”
“I’ve never even met Hajek,” Jake reminded him.
“Doesn’t matter. You’ve done runs for him before and you probably know more about him than you realize.”
“I’ve already told you everything I know, man.” Jake shook his head.
“What if I told you he’s holding Chloe at one of those locations?”
Jake’s face fell.
“Is she alright?” Jake cleared his throat, leaning forward.
Tim didn’t say anything. He couldn’t flat-out lie to Jake. It didn’t feel right. He stared Jake down and waited for him to start talking.
“She’s my whole life,” his voice dropped an octave and he sounded a lot more like Tim. “I would do anything for her.”
“Here’s a list of addresses,” Tim slid a piece of paper over to Jake. “If any of these seem even remotely familiar, circle them.”
“Yeah, okay.” Jake read through the list slowly. Tim sat there patiently while Jake circled several of the addresses.
He slid the paper back over.
“There are a couple I wasn’t sure about that I circled anyway.”
“Which ones?” Tim asked.
Jake rattled off the street names and Tim put a star next to them to prioritize last.
He got up to leave.
“Hey," Jake stopped him. "Take care of my girl. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to her.” The look in Jake’s eyes was genuine and Tim had the odd sensation he was looking into a mirror.
He nodded, “I’ll make sure someone updates you later today.”
Tim knew he was making Jake feel as bad as he did at that moment, but he had to shake it off.
There’d be time for guilt later. Right now, he needed to find Lucy.
***********************
Lucy watched Hajek carefully as he took a call. His mouth formed a flat line and he bit off short yes and no answers every few seconds.
“What happened?” She asked when he hung up.
They were on Interstate 5 heading south. Two of his goons were following in the black SUV behind them. In a few minutes, they’d be out of LA completely.
Lucy pulled the mic out of her hair while he was distracted and put it under the seat. She knew it was out of range at this point and couldn’t take the chance he’d find it on her later.
“The Feds raided the warehouse.” Hajek's knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “Scooped up all the product and the men.”
“What about Jake?” She knew Tim would have come out unscathed, physically. But once he realized she was gone? Guilt filled her belly.
She should have thought this through. She was so excited to go back undercover, and especially to do so with Tim, that she lost sight of the big picture. He wanted to pull the plug back at the penthouse and she wouldn’t give him the out.
She sent him off.
She told him it would be ok.
If she didn’t make it back, it would be like Isabel all over again. Would she ever have the chance to make it up to him?
“He got busted with the rest of them,” Hajek answered and switched lanes to pull around the car in front of him. He checked the rearview mirror to ensure his men followed suit.
“Then I want to post his bail,” Lucy said. “We should go back.”
“That’s not going to be an option.” Hajek stared straight ahead. She searched his expression for any indication of what he was planning. He was impossible to read.
“Drop me off somewhere,” she shrugged. “You don’t need me anymore.”
“I might,” he tilted his head, “depending on how you answer the next question.”
“What?” She didn’t like where this was heading.
“Are you a cop?” He looked at her point-blank.
“Of course not. Are you?” She shot back.
“I used to be.”
That stunned her. That hadn’t come up in any of their intel. The DEA had to have known that. And they’d sent her and Tim in blind.
“Am I supposed to be impressed or something?” She asked, hoping he didn’t notice her ears turning red. She was furious and she couldn’t let him see that.
He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached to the back seat and grabbed a shirt and pair of sweatpants. He tossed them at Lucy.
She raised her brows in question.
“Strip and put those on. I know you’re not wearing a wire, but I need to be sure you don’t have a tracker on you.”
“A tracker? What are you talking about?” She picked up the shirt from her lap and shook out the wrinkles. It was a classic rock band tee and so faded she could barely see the emblem.
“At first, I thought you were both CIs, especially since Jake went missing for a few days. But after that quality time in the tunnel, I know you’re a cop and you are in way over her head.”
He was direct, she’d give him that.
“I’m not a cop,” Lucy bit off. “I just want to go get Jake and then get out of LA.”
“Change. Don’t make me pull my gun on you again,” He moved his left hand to his waist.
Lucy shot him a dirty look while she untied her shoes and slipped them off. She unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied out of them. It wasn’t an easy feat in the front seat of a car.
She pulled on the sweatpants and then took off her jacket and top. She shot a sideways glance at Hajek and to his credit, he kept his eyes on the road. She put on the shirt he’d given her.
“Take off the bra too," He ordered.
She rolled her eyes and complied, unclipping it and pulling her arms into the shirt to maneuver it off without exposing herself to passing cars.
He looked over and rolled down the window.
“Toss everything.” He barked.
“But I really like these shoes,” she protested. She was actually more nervous about the jacket. Lopez had loaned it to her and she was not looking forward to telling her what she did with it.
If Lucy even survived to face Lopez’s wrath. Maybe there was a silver lining in all of this after all?
“Your choice. Lose the shoes or your life,” He said very matter of factly.
She groaned and tossed it all out the window. Maybe a car behind them would see it and call the police.
She could hope.
“Good. Now, what’s your real name, Chloe?” He plastered a fake smile on his face as he rolled up her window.
“Chloe is my real name.” She answered defiantly, mimicking his tone.
“I don’t believe you. You fight like a cop.”
“I am not a cop!” she rolled her eyes. “What game are you playing?”
“I know you all have been watching me for the past two weeks. I want to know what you know.”
Sounded simple, but she could read between the lines. As soon as he got that information, she was no longer useful to him and he’d kill her.
“This is such bullshit,” she shook her head. “I told Jake I didn’t want him to take this job. We finally had enough to get back to Florida.”
“You seemed plenty excited about the money back at the penthouse,” Hajek pointed out.
“Funny how quickly that fades when someone kidnaps you.”
He didn’t respond to that.
“Look. I care way more about my self-preservation than whatever thing you’ve got going on. I learned early on that keeping my mouth shut keeps me alive. I don’t care if you were a cop, or freaking Santa Claus, and all you need to know about me is I won’t tell anyone a damn thing about you.”
She held out her hand and he stared at her.
“Just give me your phone and I’ll pull up my Instagram and Jake’s Facebook. I don’t know any cops, but I’m pretty sure they don’t post strip teases, bong hits or drag racing on their pages. That would get them fired or something, right?”
Tim and Lucy had spent a few hours over the past two days scouring Dim and Juicy’s social media for backstory and known acquaintances. The LAPD could never fake profiles this good. Which made sense, because they were real.
And hopefully, he wouldn’t remember Tim’s sudden lack of a beer belly.
Hajek considered her proposal and handed her his phone.
“Pull them up quick. If you give me any indication you are texting, emailing, or calling someone, I will shoot you.”
“Okay, jeez.” Lucy quickly pulled up both sites and navigated to their respective pages. She doubled tapped one of Chloe’s photos toward the bottom, scrolled back up, and then handed it back to Hajek. “Knock yourself out.”
Her pulse began to pound in her ears again. She focused on steady breathing and keeping track of the freeway signs they passed.
Today was far from over.
#chenford#lucy chen#tim bradford#tim x lucy#chenford fanfic#lucy x tim#the rookie#the rookie s5#tucy#the rookie fanfic
11 notes
·
View notes
Note
1, 5, 11, 16, 21, 26, 27, 32, 34, 37 god i hope i wrote the numbers right im on mobile. also full disclosure idr scheduling this so it was fun figuring out whats happening. my answers coming as soon as the laptop awakens, till then, tell me everything 😍💖💖💖💖
Weird Questions for Writers
1 - What font do you write in? Do you actually care or is that just the default setting?
I’m a Bookman old style girl indeed. As my followers know at this point, I’m a dinosaur aka proud Xennial, generation analogue to digital, from typewriter to cloud. So I went from the first Word programs to what we have now and also had my first office jobs when the whole PC thing was still in its first stages. Everyone especially in business life used Times and Arial and Verdana back then, and honestly, I was just really bored by those. So when I got on my own PC and started transcribing my fanfics from handwritten to electronic, I chose something that was still easy to read but didn’t look like work. And that stuck. I even use that font in my work life whenever I can get away with it. I just really love Bookman old style.
5 - Do you have any writing superstitions? What are they and why are they 100% true?
I don’t think so? Though if it counts, I’ve encountered prophetic writing with my stuff before and that can be pretty creepy. Like, in an entirely non religious way, of course, because I’m agnostic, but like ... visions put in writing. Stuff of my stories that came true weirdly specific in one shape or another later. So there’s that.
11 - Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?
Nah, I have a very hard time killing my protagonists. So if it happens at all, you can be sure I’ll find a way to bring them back at some point. At that point when I do kill them off tho, I cry. Like, a lot.
16 - What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever used as a bookmark?
Nothing strange, I think, I was just one of those sinners as a kid using dog-ears.
21 - Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?
Nope, not gonna happen. This is the thing that keeps me alive, and I don’t have any suicidal tendencies these days.
26 - How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?
A lot, I think, with faceclaims when it comes to my own characters. Watching the material I got of the actors in questions, doing moodboards, videos, stuff like that. It was very inspiring for many scenes in the past. Then there’s the good old impersonating them in your head in calm moments like under the shower or when brushing your teeth, playing random scenarios in your head, contemplating how they will react. But in the end, a lot of characterizing only comes when I actually write them.
27 - Who is the most stressful character you’ve ever written? Why?
I’ve got a lot of anxiety about my current first trans character, especially since the canon faceclaim is no other than Elliot Page. So I’m just really terrified I’ll fuck this whole thing up because it is not my personal corner of queer so I can’t write from experience.
32 - What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc that you return to from time and time again? How did you find it? What does it mean to you?
I’m more prone to movie lines than book quotes tbh, and poetry is not my world. I can cheat here though, since movie is based on a book, so Imma go with PS, I love you here.
“You made my life. But I'm just one chapter in yours.“
I’ve used that sentiment two times myself, in the two longest fanfiction projects I made, one of which I’m working on right now, and it’s breaking me every time.
And from the same movie (there’s reasons I can’t sit through this without crying):
“Thing to remember is if we're all alone, then we're all together in that too.“
Also something I used before in stories, and a thought that sometimes help.
34 - Thoughts on the Oxford comma, Go:
I hate it with the passion of a thousand suns since it has no place in German, and if grammarly wouldn’t do it for me, I would never use it.
37 - If you were to be remembered only by the words you’ve put on the page, what would future historians think of you?
Hopeless romantic as long as there’s enough torture involved.
#stormys fanfics#effervescentdragon#sometimes stormy gets asked things#i have the loveliest friends#love you <3
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mobile Navigation
A pinned post to help those who are mobile bound! This will contain rules and character info under the Read More break
I won’t reblog callouts or known discourse or drama, I’m here to have fun
Personals can follow me but, please do not reblog or comment on my threads
I sort of practice inbox karma? I’ll typically reblog from the source anyway but if I reblog it from you, I’ll always send something in
I’m used to threads picking up and dropping all the time, it’s fine. Just let me know!
No mains or exclusives here, I want to give everyone equal opportunity
I do RP dark subjects-given the nature of both shows- if you have a trigger feel free to ask me to tag it and I’ll ask if you have any triggers before we start anything
I am multi-ship and multi-verse.
I require information and rules somewhere on your blog
I don’t RP with horror fandoms, including movies-Halloween-and games-FNAF-and creepastas-Jeff the killer-as well as the MLP fandom
Feel free to nudge me if I’m missing a reply for you. Sometimes I thought I replied and actually didn't
I don’t really care about the length of a reply so don’t try to match me. I do casual and semi-para RP, I just require that it’s 2 sentences at the very least
no god-modding, that’s a given
I do not format my post, if you want to format my reply when you reblog it,go ahead. I will not refuse to RP with anyone just because they do or do not format.
I will usually reblog asks to turn them into threads,if you don’t want me doing that I do not mind making a new post, just let me know
I do have icons and I’ll use them a quarter of the time but it’s not a requirement to use icons with me. I’m on mobile usually
I do/can RP NSFW it will be tagged and put under a ‘read more’ if it comes up. I’m 21+
If you need me to tag something it will be tagged tw:trigger
I don’t think I post a lot of OOC outside of when I’ll post replies and whatnot-I typically talk in the tags but I’ll usually use a OOC tag
CHARACTER ABOUTS
Charlotte Morningstar-Magne
She wants to stop the yearly extermination by redeeming the Sinners of Pentagram City and grant them access to heaven. She’s compassionate, naive, and has a love for theatre. However, she isn’t stupid and won’t let others use her just because she’s the princess. I write Charlie is bi/pan and she has both her mother and father’s last names(AKA I really liked her original last name)
Alastor
An overlord of hell known as The Radio Demon. Despite the power he holds, he tones himself down for others who he considers his true friends. He has manners but uses them selectively. He is narcissistic but not reckless-Death date 1933. Alastor is asexual/demi-romantic.
Angel Dust
Selfishly living in the Hazbin Hotel for free, Angel Dust is Hell’s best prostitute. He is reckless, even if it it means screwing someone else over. He can be playful and dangerous, he’s rude, vulgar, and very flirtatious-Death Date 1947. Angel is gay and I will portraying him with DID, he had it in life as well as death. Right now there are two alters, Angel Dust and Anthony. Angel is the Protector/Persecutor. Anthony is the memory holder
Vox
An overlord of hell and a savvy businessman, owner and CEO of VoxTek and a member of the Vees. Death date is the 1950’s and as a result, has major fucking beef with Alastor. Vox is bi
Verses
swap AU
where Charlie switches roles with Alastor, Angel will switch with Vaggie
2P,
where the character role is the same but personalities are swapped.
Say You’ll Remember Me?
The hotel is working a little too well, demons are doing the impossible at an impossible rate. Soon, Charlie and the hellborns will be the only ones left in pride. This will also feature redeemed characters.
Human AU
all characters are set in the time they died. There is going to be a modern AU as well for all characters.
Strawberry Al
A more pink Alastor who’s less of an asshole outright. This will be an AU where he’s a yandere of sorts. He does in fact mostly mind his business in Cannibal Town and was working on being an Overlord for the power and security behind it but, made a deal with Lilith that fucked him over, he copes as well as he can Still figuring out the details on this one so it’s in a test phase. The deal with Lilith is a running theory right now and until it is confirmed, it only applies to Strawberry Al
0 notes
Text
harmless (xi)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)
Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, anxiety, smidge of angst, fatigue, wormholes, netflix’s terrible original movie
Word count: 6.2k
A/N: i know that a few teachers read this series and i just need to put out the disclaimer that all i’ve written is based on ones that i know irl and the work they do in a completely different education system, please dont come at me for inaccuracies i’ll probably cry
Previous Part || Series Masterlist
Bucky thought that with all the technological advancements the world had made in terms of vaccines and mobile phones, ancient practices would be left behind in the past, where they belong.
So when a letter arrives in the official Avengers mailbox, addressed to him, it’s a bit jarring. There’s a wax seal, picture perfect calligraphy and faded edges; a full blast from the past.
Valorous m'rning James,
We shalt meeteth on our regular day at mine own lair, at 11:30am. Doth not beest late.
Bringeth me a presenteth. Or taketh off thy shirt.
With a heart full of misprise,
Thy sup'rvillain.
He ignores the thinly veiled threat in the first line and the clear flirtation in the third to last. The latter is harder to dismiss, but still.
He wonders if SHIELD has anything to do with the lair you’ve acquired for yourself. After the last conversation about your workplace, he did a little research. For the safety of human kind.
It’s a little different than what he was expecting. A lot more usage of the words ‘holistic development’ and ‘practical learning’ that he’d ever seen. Then again, the world post-Snap was different.
The lair door is closed to visitors, so gives three knocks and waits patiently.
“Who is it?” Your voice floats through the intercom.
Bucky looks up at the camera. “It’s me.”
“Sarge?” The door swings open a few seconds ago. “You’re here.”
It takes a moment for him to realise you’re not in your usual get-up. Still in your pajamas, as a matter of fact. Strange, but probably a costume for whatever shit you had going on that day.
“Got your letter.” He holds it up as proof, waving it around slightly.
Your eyes squint in confusion before it suddenly hits you.
"Shit, I forgot I sent that." You facepalm. "I mailed it, like, two weeks ago."
The more he takes in your appearance, the more apparent it becomes that something wasn't quite right.
There was a little crease between your eyebrows that didn't look like they were going anytime soon, the slump of your shoulders and the missing liveliness-
“You okay?” he asks a little awkwardly, gruffer than he wants to sound.
You shift your balance to lean against the door frame. "I'm a little stressed.”
Clearly, if the circles under your eyes were any kind of indication.
"Anything wrong?" He didn't want to pry but he didn't want to ignore it all together either.
"A lot of missing class prep. The parade thing kinda set me back, I got a lot to make up for."
His lips press together in a straight line. "I thought someone was covering for you."
You half-nod. "Turns out they weren't that great. The kids didn't learn much so I'm doing it again but class starts tomorrow and I have a lot to cover because I also have to do my current prep on top of last week's, and I’m also covering someone else’s classes because she’s out sick, and there’s the stupid play coming up so I have prop work to do-"
You cut yourself off with a small smile. "Sorry, I'm rambling."
He hasn't seen you this... serious ever. He doesn't like it very much.
"Why aren't you at home?"
"Didn't wanna disturb my roommate." You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly. "Also it leaves a big mess and Jake doesn't want the cat to accidentally eat a roll of tape or something."
You have a cat, apparently. Every day he learns something new about you.
"Can we reschedule?" you ask, a little embarrassed at the entire situation. "Promise I'll kick your ass next week?"
"Yeah, sure." He doesn't have a problem with that, it's more the fatigue he can see rolling off your body in waves.
"See you later then." The corner of your lips quirk upwards in a smile, ready to get back to hours worth of arts and craft and God knows what else.
Okay, Barnes, you have the whole day to yourself. What plans can you-
"Listen," he blurts out before he can think about what he's going to say.
At the same instance, you open and shut your mouth immediately, instead indicating for him to go on with a flick of your wrist.
"Do you-" This is not a life or death situation, idiot. "-do you want some help?"
You bite your lip. You were in no place to turn down any additional help. "You sure?"
"I got the time." Not like he has anywhere to be, anyway.
“Making flashcards seems a bit below your pay grade.”
Bucky simply dismisses it with a rise and drop of his shoulders.
"Well, okay. If you’re sure." You push the door open to let him in.
He nods in confirmation.
Sure enough, the lair is an absolute mess. There's cardboard, craft paper and markers strewn all over the floor among other things, a laptop half open with a few energy drinks beside it and empty wrappers of food long gone.
"How long have you been at this?” The lair looks less like an evil headquarter and more like an arts and craft section at the local mall.
”Couple of hours.”
”How long is a couple?” he presses, eyes narrowed.
”About six,” you say sheepishly. “Not counting yesterday.”
No wonder you were exhausted.
He simply picks up an uncapped Sharpie that lay near his feet.
”Where should I start?
You can tell Bucky Barnes is a man of precision, accuracy and efficiency by the fact that he never misses a shot, but more importantly, the way he cuts his cardboard.
He made sure each one was the same size, not even a quarter of an inch off. He wouldn’t have given a shit if it was something he was doing on his own. He probably wouldn’t have even used a bright orange boxcutter, instead relying on his brute force. But these were for someone else, and therefore it was important to make sure they all lined up perfectly.
He was gonna make sure that these were the best fucking props the school would ever see or at least die trying.
You, on the other hand, were working on lesson plans and a few presentations to use in class. You occasionally lifted your head to look at what he was doing, finding the look of utter focus on his face a bit amusing.
“How many of these do we need?” he asks, looking at the stack of ones he had already finished.
“As many as you can get out of those three sheets.” You point beside him. “Let me know if you need any help.”
“Got it.” He leans over to pull them closer to where he was sitting with his feet crossed on the floor.
You were on a plush armchair, one whose backrest rose high enough to know that it was your version of a villain’s throne. You had offered him the seat but he chose the ground, citing that there was more space to work. You didn’t expect anyone else to stay that long in your lair, let alone do DIY craft on your floor, hence the lack of seating.
“How’s the day job going?” You don’t look up from your screen and he doesn’t from his measuring either.
“Same as always.”
“No new missions?”
“Not right now.” Classified information, he has to remind himself.
“You haven’t brought me souvenirs yet.” There’s no telling if you’re serious or not. Your focus still remained fixed on the laptop. “I’m pretty sure the letter mentioned that too.”
“I told you,” he begins, dividing the cardboard into squares with a ruler, “there’s nothing there.”
“Nick brought me a pencil once, so I know you’re lying.”
That piqued his interest, serving as a reminder. He had been meaning to ask for a while, ever since the parade fiasco.
“You and Fury are friends.” He didn’t know how else to describe the relationship the both of you had, considering that he had never seen the man act like that with anyone else. “How’d that happen?”
“Actually, I think he just picked it up from his table,” you deflect, tone reminiscent. “I don’t think he genuinely bought me a gift.”
“Okay, fine, but how does he not hate you?” he tries to urge you back on track.
“Man, all you superheroes do is hurt me.” You sigh, still hung up on the falsified gift.
“You’re not gonna answer, are you?”
“I have very secret secrets too, Mr. Barnes.” You wiggle your eyebrows.
He pauses. “Fair enough.”
He wasn’t going to push it. He goes back to his cardboard, painstakingly making sure every cut is in line.
“I send him a casserole every year for Thanksgiving,” you broke in all of a sudden.
Bucky just hums in acknowledgement, not buying the obvious bullshit.
There’s a silence that follows as your fingers click against the keyboard, typing something down. He tries not to disturb you, working as nimbly as he can on his own.
His metal arm makes it easier to work longer, given that it doesn’t strain his muscles. He hasn’t tried the little Feel Squares, a name he found inscribed inside the box, that you gave him yet. He doesn’t know how long it will take him to.
“I invent things for the division he manages,” you pipe up, unprompted.
He looks at you in brief surprise, not really expecting to hear from you again, before what you say registers. You look serious enough to know that you’re not kidding this time.
“You’re-” The gears in his brain turn. “You’re a SHIELD agent?”
“No.” Your nose twitches slightly. “I’m a teacher.”
“But you’re also a SHIELD agent.”
“Yeah, I’m making this presentation right now for your next mission in Lithuania,” you shoot back instead. “Those Nazi bastards will never know what hit them. Do you think adding WordArt causes extra damage?”
He doesn’t pay attention to your retort. “Fine, are you technically on their payroll?”
“Lead technology consultant,” you clarify. The light from your laptop illuminates your face in series of colours one after the other, currently settling on red.
“What about your evil shit?” He sets the boxcutter down beside him. “They’re okay with you being a nuisance?”
“Yeah, as long as they get a blueprint of all my plans.” You shrug. “Generally they use those for their own inventions after tweaking it a little bit and making it look cooler. A lot more neon lights in their versions.”
This arrangement was one of the strangest he’d ever heard.
“Huh,” he states, crossing his arms. “How’d they find out about you?”
“Same way they find out about all of you.”
“They tracked you down?” Or blew up their director’s car with a missile launcher, in Bucky’s case.
“No, I created a wormhole by mistake and they were at my door in an hour. They were going to take me in for messing with intergalactic legalities but-” You pause for a second, cursing under your breath at the stupid software that fucked up the entire document when you shifted an image. “I started nitpicking their primitive tech and told them I’d send them some new ideas if they let me go.”
“And they listened to you?”
“Do you know how annoying I can be?” He does. “Took, like, two hours to walk out of there with a new job.”
“What about Fury?”
“I’ve worked with him a bunch of times,” you say nonchalantly. “Why else do you think he agreed to let Tony bring me in so quickly? He was going to call me anyway.”
Tony should probably not hear about that. He thought he had all the leverage in that situation.
“Why do they call you a villain then?” He specifically remembers the briefing he was given. “If you work with them.”
“You have a lot of questions, sarge. I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk,” you observe, voice offhanded.
He can’t even dispute that; it was true. Just- the thought of you being a part of SHIELD was absurd.
“It was a part of my contract. They don’t classify me as a world destroying threat, just a minor one, for now. Can’t really take that off the record once it’s on there.” You squint at the screen. “They assign me an agent to make sure things don’t go overboard, but they keep me around. They realised two or three years ago that I don’t need to be under constant supervision, only partial.”
Totally harmless. Except for when you were going to steal the power of the sun.
“He gave you a high five,” Bucky brings up instead. A very reluctant one, but Fury did give you a high five.
“You saw that?” you ask, a small smile on your face. “Don’t let him know. He’ll have you eliminated.”
“He hasn’t done that with anyone else.”
“It’s what I get in return when I do him favours,” you explain casually. “I wormed my way into his life. Just like how I’m doing to your heart. And soon your bed.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re not a villain.”
“Am too,” you defend. “You’re here to stop me.”
“There’s nothing to stop.” He makes a mention towards the cardboard. “You’re not even evil.”
“Take that back or else I’ll steal the declaration of Independence next week,” you mutter, attention divided again. “I’ll tell them you helped me do it.”
“My arch nemesis is a theatre kid.” Bucky shakes his head in disbelief.
The laptop slams shut dramatically. He looks up.
“Now that’s just hurtful,” you say straightly. “If I’m a theatre kid then you’re president of the goth club.”
He scoffs, going back to cutting cardboard.
Unlike last time, he takes you up on your offer of a soda. It’s been an hour and a half and he’s shifted to calligraphy. It takes him a while to get used to it, given that it wasn’t part of his existing skillset.
But numbering pieces of coloured paper is more fun than he’d like to admit.
"How’d the parade go?" You're typing away on your laptop, working on a presentation for now. “No security issues?”
"No, it went fine," He’s more focused on carefully controlling each flick of his wrist to make sure there are no stray lines.
"Oh, cool," you say offhandedly. “Did you have fun?”
He spent most of the event trying to coordinate a team of over a hundred agents covering multiple city blocks, so he didn’t get to see a whole lot of the actual parade.
He did eventually find you at some point, but even that was short lived. The giant cotton candy you shoved into his hand and the quick picture you snapped of him holding it in his official work outfit was one of the only instances he actually talked to you, and half of it was spent in him threatening you not to post that anywhere online. Other times he just stood beside you in silence for a few moments before intercepting another message on his comm.
He did try his best though, a subtle way of expressing his gratitude.
"Kinda." The vibe was positive, people looked like they were having a good time. "Not exactly my idea of it, but t'was nice."
"Yeah? What is your idea of fun then?" you inquire. "From what I see, when you're not on missions you're here, and I can't imagine this is very fun for you."
He looks at the stacks of paper he had already completed. He actually was not hating this.
”I told you, nothing,” he maintained his automatic response. It wasn’t like his answer had changed drastically over the course of a few months.
”Okay.” You don’t bother arguing with him, instead, returning your focus to the sources you were citing.
He lets it sit for a second, mind already cringing about how disinterested he sounded. He wasn’t, he just doesn’t talk about himself much. His therapist’s voice rings in his head again about letting himself be seen and breaking down walls.
“Cook.”
“Huh?” Your eyes dart up to his for a second.
“I cook.” His excessive stress baking and the lack of appreciation for it had led him here in the first place, in search of a new way to spend his waking hours.
“What do you cook?” Generic question, best not to go into details before he shuts down again.
“Stuff.” It’s embarrassing enough to admit it to someone who wasn’t on the team anyway. “’m not very good at it.”
He does not divulge the fact that he could make a killer lasagna, given that he wouldn’t stop making batches of it until he perfected it.
“You should let me be the judge of that.” Your face is completely neutral but he’s come to realise the signs of when you’re going to hit on him. “Make me dinner on our date.”
There it is.
“What’s the best meal you’ve ever had?” You sigh at the document when it fucks up again. “Keep in mind, it’s not necessarily your favourite food. Also could be something you made.”
His eyebrows crease when he tries to remember, pinpoint an exact one. Flashes of hot dog vans, a neighbour in Romania who gave him a batch of cookies once when she made extra, his first bite of pizza from Sam’s favourite place downtown, the cupcakes he made once for Wanda’s birthday.
It gets overwhelming abruptly, beginning to feel a little suffocating in his head.
“Don’t know,” he croaks out, not explaining further.
You don’t test it, noticing the shift in his tone.
He curses when his Sharpie slips in his grip, drawing a bold line across the piece of paper. Fuckin’ hell.
You tell him it’s okay.
He picks up another piece wordlessly.
“I swear to- Barnes, I will murder you if you don’t put that down.”
“I know how to use this,” he insists. The glue on and around his hands says otherwise.
“You need the skill to be able to glue two sticks together and you clearly don’t have it.”
“I was a trained assassin, I know how to use guns-”
“Who did you have to assassinate with a glue gun, Bucky?” Prying him away from the hot glue gun was probably the most laborious task you had done all day. “You’re going to burn yourself, you moron.”
“Your glue gun is weak,” he says objectively. The man had managed to stick his fingers together once already and various other objects to the floor.
Was it out of petty revenge after you took it away from him once? A possibility he would vehemently deny it till the day of his death. This was his vengeance.
“I’m going to kill you.” You exhale in indignation. “My glue gun isn’t used to being handled by an idiot with a death grip metal arm.”
“Yeah, it’s generally handled by an idiot without a death grip metal arm.” He rolls his eyes.
You’re not even trying to be subtle when you take a step over to grab the rest of the glue sticks, shoving it behind your back on the couch.
“We’re out of glue sticks,” you say monotonously.
He glares at you and your determination not to budge from your decision.
Until he has another brilliant idea.
“I’m going to tape this together.” He stretches his arm to pick up the roll that lay a few feet away from him.
“Put down the tape or so help me God-”
The giant wall of screens had its use, but for now, a couple of them were on to function as a mini theatre of sorts. However, the biggest downfall was the movie you had conned him into streaming. You were absolutely resolute that it was important for his cultural expansion.
“I hate this,” he says, not even five minutes into The Kissing Booth.
“You’re gonna love the rest of it.” It had been the longest half an hour, forcing Bucky to, first of all, stop arranging the sketch pens and crayons colour-wise, and then second, convince him to eat something.
“What do you want to eat?” you asked for the tenth time, one hand on your hip and one hand holding your phone.
“I don’t eat food,” he stated, hoping that it’d end the conversation there.
You pressed your mouth into a thin line. “What do you want then, motor oil? Spare car parts?”
“I don’t eat,” he corrected instead.
You didn’t look impressed.
“I’m getting you pasta,” you decided finally, pulling up the app to order, remembering what he said about it being his preferred choice a while ago.
He opened his mouth to protest but a quick stern look from you and he shut it.
“I didn’t bring my wallet.”
“You pay for our next date.” You don’t cast him a second glance. “I like very expensive wine and cheap burgers.”
“All of them are fuckin’ annoying.” He can’t tear his eyes away from the train wreck going on in front of him. “Who is that?”
“He’s one of the leads, he’s been here for half the movie already.” You snort, lap acting like support for your cartons of food.
“This is more painful than whatever the soviets did to me.” He takes a swig of his water and mentally wishes he conjure up a Jesus moment where it turns into vodka.
“I’ll let Netflix know.” The both of you were leaning against the entrance wall, a considerable distance away from the screen. Your speakers were well placed throughout the lair to let the sound reverberate like a normal movie hall. All in all, it was a pretty good system that he had to give you kudos for.
“How much longer does this go on for?” He pulls out his phone, switching it on momentarily to check the clock.
“You know, there’s a sequel.” Good God why. “Also there’s an hour to go and we’re not moving till this is done.”
An hour? What could they possibly be doing for an hour?
“You are pure evil,” he mumbles, pushing around his leftover pasta. You had gotten him two, knowing his metabolism would have him starving by the time the food arrived.
“All it took was one showing of The Kissing Booth for you to take back what you said this morning.” Your eyes light up. “You’re easier to convince than I thought.”
Someone in the movie says something stupid again. Someone else gets mad again. Bucky feels like he’s going to start disassociating soon.
“Isn’t there any other way of spending an hour?” He nearly groans at the borderline abusive lead. “I’m gonna have a brain haemorrhage if that piece of shit opens his mouth one more time.”
“You’re telling me you wouldn’t spend the last hour of your life watching shitty rom-coms with your best friend?” You lean over to nudge his shoulder.
“No, I wouldn’t.” He glowers at you. “And you’re not my best friend.” Especially not after this.
“Oh right, yeah, my bad,” you backtrack fairly quickly. “I’m the love of your life.”
He shifts further away from where you’re sitting. He hears you laugh.
He’s nearly out of garlic bread, which is upsetting, to say the least. Maybe he could make a batch when he got home.
Speaking of which, he should probably leave, seeing as how he had spent well over four hours there already.
"What would you do if had one hour to live?" you inquire out of the blue, interrupting his train of thought. “Besides watching The Kissing Booth 2 with me, which we’re definitely going to do one day.”
A lot of big questions that day. He can’t say much, considering that he was the one who started the whole thing.
Bucky sighs, taking another bite, chewing on it mindlessly.
”What would you do?” he asks in return after a while.
”I don’t know actually.” You shrug. “Maybe lie down on some grass with the people that I actually like. Talk about nothing, but probably have the last thing I say be something cursed so that they’re forced to remember me forever.”
”No creating wormholes?” The light from the movie dances off the cervices of your face but you aren’t looking at him.
”Nah.” You laugh gently. “I think I do enough of that every other day.”
The movie fades into background noise, becoming easier to ignore now that he’s not actively thinking about it.
"We were in South Dakota for a stealth op once." He pokes at the cherry tomato rolling around in the carton. "Stark’s suit was basically non-functional, Barton's arm was four kinds of fucked up. Wanda was the only one who relatively fine."
"What about you?"
"Hmm?" he breathes, breaking out of his memory.
"Were you fine?" you repeat, eyes no longer glued to the screen.
"Needed a few stitches, nothing major." If he recalls correctly. "But team morale wasn't the highest."
He remembers that the wisecracks and witty one-liners weren't landing that well that night. And once they stopped, things got all the worse.
"We were waiting for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to send over a new quinjet. It was 3am and everyone was whinin' and being little shits and somehow Wanda managed to get us to this small doughnut shop a couple of miles away. Didn’t take a lotta talkin’ to convince him to stay open for a little longer."
"Best damn meal I've ever eaten in my life. Doughnuts and stale coffee." There's a wisp of a smile on his face that you take a liking to. It looks good on him. "We had too much muck on us to be sitting inside and there were maybe five seats outdoors that everyone wanted to put their equipment on. We compromised and I just sat on the stairs outside the shop by myself."
That was nice of him, you think. Or maybe non-confrontational.
"So if I had one hour to live, I'd probably want to spend it there. T'was nice. Quiet."
"That's-" strangely beautiful, a deeper insight than you thought you'd get from him? You don't complete the sentence. "How often do you go there?"
"Haven't been back since then." He shrugs. "Never found the time. I don’t even think I’ve eaten a doughnut that good since then.”
"Well I mean-" you gesture around vaguely. "-there's a Dunkin store a few blocks down. It's not the same, but I'm sure could DoorDash some doughnuts. Try ‘em out.”
He actually laughs at that, freely and louder than an exhale.
It's probably the first you've ever seen him do it. It’s cute.
"Maybe some other time."
“You made me watch that stupid movie. I deserve that glue gun.”
“You are not getting it,” you shot back.
“I did my best work with that,” he argues, arms crossed over his chest.
“You glued my chair to the ground on purpose.” You threw your hands up in exasperation. “How did you even fucking get that close without me seeing?”
He smirks but neglects to answer your question. “Give me the glue gun.”
“You don’t even have the fuckin’ sticks, I hid them,” you say pointedly.
He reaches behind to his back pocket and pulls out a stash of glue gun sticks. Your jaw drops.
“How did you-”
“Your tape sucks, I want the glue gun.” He eyes it in your hand. Just because he didn’t use all his available skillset on you doesn’t mean he didn’t have them.
“My tape has stars on them, you-” The tape was pretty but it was useless, the adhesive barely clung onto anything.
“Glue gun,” he interrupts, annoyingly persistent.
“No-”
“Glue gun.”
"I will carve your heart out of your chest and eat it like a mango, James.”
Bucky blinks at you. "Jesus Christ."
You look surprised yourself. “That was aggressive.” He nearly cracks up.
“Where did that come from?” He pulls his lips into a straight line in an effort not to.
“Sorry.” You sigh. “I shouldn’t have said that. Take the stupid gun.”
You toss it at him and he catches it with ease.
He stops for a second, tilting the gun towards you. “It was creative.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Did it turn you on? Is that a kink?”
“Forget I ever said anything.”
He thinks he’s done the most he can today. He cut, copied, coloured, stuck his way through nearly eight hours of work.
He was clicking through your presentation with one hand, the other being used to keep his body upright as he sat on the floor.
You were running through your lesson plan for the week, legs thrown over the armrests of your villain couch. He refused to sit on it out of moral principle and his loyalty towards the good side.
He remembers some of the concepts you’re teaching about, either from his own school or information he picked up over the years. Things were radically different and he didn’t expect any less, but it still struck him how different his education was.
"You put a lot of effort into these classes," he notes, changing to the next slide.
"Makes it fun for everyone." There’s a pencil tucked behind your ear to mark any changes. "They think I'm cool, I gotta keep that going."
"What would they say about the evil side job?"
"Doubt they'd care that much," you reckoned offhandedly. "Besides, who cares what you do outside the classroom if you put memes in your presentation?"
Right as you say it he comes across something that vaguely looks like a cartoon mouse leaning against a wall for support with tears in its eyes.
"Am I supposed to know what that means?" He stares at it, flipping the laptop to show you.
You lift your neck for a second to look at it. "Not without context."
He nods, flipping it back towards him.
He's seen a few of them. He's liked a few of them, but the majority don't make sense. Peter calls them surreal memes.
He thinks he's getting better at filtering his content on his Instagram. It had finally shifted from cats to German architecture which he, admittedly, didn't know much about, but it was definitely easier to explain. Occasionally a surreal meme would show up and he’d spend 5 minutes trying to deconstruct the meaning behind it.
”Have you always wanted to teach?”
“Yeah.” You don’t even hesitate in answering.
“Why?”
“It’s just one of those jobs where you can see yourself making a difference every day.” You shift in your place, pulling your legs up to get more comfortable. “Most people don’t realise how important is as a kid to know that someone older is rooting for you.”
He can make out how tired you are by the way your replies get shorter, less detailed. There was still a stack of papers beside you with scripts that had parts that needed to be scratched out or highlighted. He had done a few of them before you said he had done more than enough already.
“Why’d you ask?” you questioned, his sudden interest in your life a bit unusual.
Well.
“It’s important to you.” He shrugs simply, mouth moving faster than his brain.
When he doesn’t receive a reply he glances up through his eyelashes to see if he somehow pushed a boundary he wasn’t supposed to.
You’re looking at him over your file, a soft smile on your face.
He quickly shifts his gaze back down before you can make a dumb joke at his expense. It doesn’t come, but technology has never looked more appealing to him at that moment.
The presentations themselves are pretty interesting. No wonder you spent so long on them. He thinks the little animation segues are strange but not in a bad way.
He’s about to ask you what the meme of a rabbit in a tuxedo means when he swiftly stops himself.
You’re asleep, curled up on the couch with the file clutched close to you.
He takes it as his sign to leave.
He gets up silently, pulling off bits of tape that stuck itself onto his body over the day. He steps over pieces of discarded material, turning to make sure you’re still asleep when something catches his eye.
The pile of scripts lay unfinished beside you. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth.
He didn’t want to overstep, but he also knew that that was an hour more of work minimum and you didn’t look like you were in any state to sit do that now.
Fuck it.
Bucky quietly makes his way over to the pile to pick it up, reverting back to his original position on the floor with his back to you. Privacy, or something resembling it at least.
He does his best not to wake you, keeping the noise of rustling papers the lowest he could.
It’s easy to fall into a rhythm and soon he doesn’t require a reference either. He just knows what to erase and what to highlight.
Mundane tasks like this give him time to think. His mind floats from subject to subject, not lingering too long on anything specific. It’s calming. Maybe a new coping mechanism.
You turn over on the couch. He freezes mid page turn, waiting to see if you’d wake up. When you don’t, he continues with his work.
He thinks it was a good day. A productive one, at the minimum. He didn’t really have anything to show that he stopped an evil scheme of yours other than a head full of repressed memories of possibly the worst movie he had seen in months. He thinks that counts as the most heinous thing you’ve ever done.
He’s more than halfway through the pile when the lights in the lair switch on by themselves. He squints at the sudden exposure, shielding his eyes from the light.
The clock on his phone tells him it’s close to 9pm. He has a few scripts to go and then he’d sneak out of there, probably send you a text to make sure you got home-
“Bucky?” Your groggy voice calls out from behind him.
He flinches, placing the bundle down. “’m sorry, was I too loud?”
“No, no it was the light. They turn on if it gets dark outside.” You sit up straight, stretching your neck to get rid of the soreness. “What are you doing?”
“Just finishing up some stuff.” He turns around, slowly pushing the stack of scripts in front of him.
“Are those the-” your eyes blink rapidly to adjust to what you’re seeing.
“Yeah.” He scratches the back of his head.
“Oh.” The gesture involuntarily makes you feel a certain way. Something weirdly warm. “Thank you.”
“I thought you could use some sleep.” He pushes himself off the ground when he sees you looking at him with an emotion he can’t quite put his finger on, not wanting to overstay his welcome. “‘m gonna go.”
“Wait, I’ll walk you to the door.” You hop off the couch, shaking your legs to get rid of the pins and needles.
He obliges, waiting as you jog up to him. There are only a few metres to the exit but you insisted on being chivalrous. It also gives you ample chance for a few more pickup lines.
”Sorry for sticking around this long, wasn’t really much use after lunch.” He inwardly cringes, forcing a stoic face to refrain from showing it physically.
“You were,” you rebuked, “and I was gonna ask you to stay anyway, you just beat me to it.”
"You’re probably gonna need a new glue gun," he avoids replying to your comment.
“Probably.” You snort. “You know, you’re fun to hang out with sometimes, sarge. You should hang out here more often.”
”I’ll start working on the art skills.” He thinks it’s easier to go back and forth with you now, less guarded than he initially was when he first met you.
”Or maybe, we can just watch a movie and eat trash takeout,” you suggest instead. “No work involved.”
His mouth clamps shut, finding it a little difficult to come to terms with the fact that he didn’t have to offer a service for you to spend time around him. No saving the world or making flashcards. Just his generally disgruntled self.
“Okay,” he says simply. “Get some rest. I’ll see you next week.”
“Thank you,” It comes out a little softer than you intend, “for today. I owe you big time.”
He considers it even, actually. “Don’t mention it.”
"Now bring that same glue gun energy to our date.” You switch back within the blink of an eye. “You get real cute when you're possessive.”
He scoffs, spinning around on his heel. “You’re a pest.”
You watch him hastily leave, laughter erupting from your chest and the same warmth from earlier not showing signs of leaving anytime soon.
in case you want a translation of the letter she sent him in the beginning :)
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
Next part
#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#mcu fic#bucky fic#bucky barnes fic#bucky fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky angst#bucky barnes angst#harmless fic#winter soldier x reader#Winter Soldier#bucky barnes#bucky
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi there! I don't think I've requested anything from you before ( my memory is awful though)
Anyhow I was wondering if I could get some Izuku smut with a female reader.
The scene is youre out with your girls, ( mina, hagakure, Momo) at the club having a good time. You see this green eyed stranger looking at you across the room.
His boys hype him up to ask you to dance and it ends up turning into following him back home ( I LIVE for soft dom! Deku!)
Thanks for taking the time to read and answer this!
Ugh, sorry this took so long, nonnie! You sent this in just as I was being eaten alive by a fic that’s wayyyyy longer than it needs to be. But I’m here now and you said the magic words: soft dom. Yesssss. I went college!AU for this and I hate clubs (drinking, dancing, flirting, no thanks) so I projected that on the reader a bit. Oopsie! It was hard to keep Izuku in character for this, but I did my best. Anyway, hope you like!
minors do not interact
warnings: 18+, Kaminari and M*neta leering, spanking, slight exhibitionism, alcohol (not drunk sex, though), dirty talk
rating: explicit, 18+
wc: 5k
edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop
Sometimes people looked at you, Mina, Momo, and Tooru and wondered how you were friends. People who had only known each of you as you were in college could never put it together. But the answer was simple: you’d been friends since high school. You were rapidly becoming different people, but those three were still your girls through and through.
That was how you, Mina, Tooru, and Momo ended up in the club that day. Two friends who really wanted to go—Mina and Tooru—and two friends who really didn’t—you and Momo. These things happen when you become friends years before you could be allowed in any club. Your college friends never would have invited you on an excursion like this—hell, none of them would ever be seen at a club either. But when Mina and Tooru showed up at your door begging you to go out and experience your twenties, you couldn’t say no. Now you were spilling out of the car Mina had called and walking on high heeled booties to a club you’d heard of but never been to.
“Obviously you actually wanted to go, Momo, otherwise you wouldn’t be wearing a top like that.”
Tooru wasn’t hiding the fact that she was ogling Momo’s very prominently displayed chest, all but bursting out of the deep v-neck she had paired with a short skirt.
“It’s only sensible for me to wear a top like this,” Momo said, her voice firm despite awkward fidgets to put her breasts a little more away. “Places like these are so hot that a shirt with a higher neckline would be soaked with cleavage sweat in a minute.”
“Mhmm, right,” Tooru said, flouncing away in her own crop top and shorts, eager to enter the club.
You’d gone simple, just tossing on a bodycon dress that you’d ordinarily pair with a sweater and tights, but that Mina had convinced you to wear on its own tonight. You crossed your arms, the chill of the evening seeping past the thin fabric even just in the short time it took to get from the heated car to the sweaty bar.
Tooru had run to the door and was nearly bouncing, waiting for the rest of you to catch up. Mina jogged over to her, looking the coolest of all of you in her black mesh crop top with nothing but a bra underneath and shorts that had the lacy scalloped hem of her underwear peaking out the top of. You hurried after them, just eager to get out of the cold. Tooru whipped the door open and the three of you piled in all at once, flashed your IDs, and then you were in.
The sound of the bass had thrummed loudly even outside, but once inside, your senses were overloaded. The music was deafening, the smell of alcohol bitter and heady, and the heat of sweaty bodies oppressive as Mina grabbed your wrist and dragged you through the crowd.
Even with Mina clearing the way, you had to elbow your way to the bar. This was the easiest part of the night—a task, something to do aside from trying and failing to work up the nerve to dance. Over the music, you yelled, “Whiskey ginger, well is fine,” to the bartender and turned to your girlfriends.
Mina and Tooru were already swinging their hips as they waited for their drinks, shimmying against each other to the beat. You and Momo were a little stiffer, not quite having the nerve or confidence to let your bodies be taken by the music.
“Girl’s night!” Mina cheered once everyone had a drink in hand. Glasses clinked and Tooru took a healthy gulp of her drink
“Can’t dance if you’re worried about spilling your drink,” Tooru said.
“Not with that attitude!” Mina said. She thrust her beer bottle in the air and then grabbed Tooru’s hand and the two of them stumbled into the mass of writhing bodies.
“You gonna follow them?” Momo asked, chewing on the straw of her drink.
“Not yet.” You had to shuffle away from the bar to make room for other patrons, moving to lean against one of the walls. “Maybe a bit of liquid courage.”
“It probably would have been wiser to do shots.”
You looked around, noticing how many people were already sending glances Momo’s way. You could draw direct lines all around the room between men’s leering eyes and Momo’s partially exposed chest, already beginning to glisten with sweat. You pursed your lips. It was nice to have Momo around as a fellow shy dancer, but it was discouraging to always be the one next to the prettiest girl in the room. People were looking right through you.
“You’ll probably get some sent your way soon enough,” you muttered.
“What?” Momo asked, her voice loud over the music.
“Nothing!” you replied. You squeezed the lime wedge into your drink and swirled it, drinking thirstily.
You hoped for one of two things. For the night to pass by quickly or for, unlikely though it was, something exciting to happen. Bars and clubs were predictable. Just once, you wanted to be surprised.
“Woah, look at her.”
Midoriya tried and failed to follow his friend’s gaze into one of the dark corners of the bar. Mineta was a good foot shorter than Midoriya, so it was hard to tell exactly where his line of sight was taking him. Kaminari seemed to hone in right away, though, pointing eagerly at the wall near the bar.
“Good find, Mineta,” Kaminari said. “Damn she’s hot.”
Midoriya followed Kaminari’s finger and noticed two girls huddled close together, sipping their drinks and observing the crowd, occasionally leaning over to talk to each other. One was dressed in a top and skirt and the other in a tight dress. The second girl’s hips were moving to the beat just slightly, as though she might not even know herself that she was doing it. She laughed at something her friend said, smile opening wide and fearlessly.
“Wow,” Midoriya said, eyes locked on her.
“What, did Mineta finally find a girl to meet your ridiculously high standards?” Kaminari asked, clapping Midoriya on the back.
“Maybe,” Midoriya murmured, watching as she waved to some other girls in the crowd.
“About time,” Mineta said. “I’ve never seen more perfect tits in my life.”
That snapped Midoriya out of his focus and he looked down at his friend, whose eyes were unblinking, scarily locked straight ahead. “What?”
“That plunging neckline perfectly showing what it would look like if I had my hands on either side of them,” he continued, his voice distant. Luckily, Kaminari smacked him upside the head.
“If you’re saying it loud enough to be heard over the music, you’re saying it too loud,” Kaminari chastised. “Besides, if Midoriya finally found a girl he likes, you should give him first dibs.”
“What?” Mineta asked, turning towards Kaminari, outraged.
“Wait, wait, I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Midoriya said, waving his hands in front of him before his friends could have it out. “The girl I was looking at isn’t wearing a plunging neckline. Look there.”
Midoriya pointed in your direction as subtly as he could, smiling as he caught another glimpse of your beautiful laugh.
“Oh, her friend,” Mineta said.
“Yeah, that tracks,” Kaminari added, looking between Midoriya and you. “Well, you should go for it, man! Try your luck!”
Midoriya looked at Kaminari, brows furrowed. “Did you guys invite me just to get me laid or something?”
“Of course not,” Mineta said. “Your innocent face makes us look less like two fuckboys and the girls will trust us more. You’re our cover.”
“Purely selfish reasons then, okay,” Midoriya muttered. “Okay, yeah, I’ll go talk to her.”
“Do it!” Kaminari said, giving you a thumbs up. He kicked the back of Midoriya’s calf and sent him tumbling into the crowd. Amidst a song of sorrys, Midoriya made his uncertain way toward you.
Three men had already tried their luck with Momo in as many songs. She’d kindly refused each advance—no level of drunkenness had ever led Momo to so much as a sloppy makeout and you weren’t sure how many times hell would have to freeze over for that to change. You joked about each of the guys and their sad pick-up attempts, but, still, it had you feeling low. None of the guys even pretended to be interested in you. They went straight for Momo, trying their darndest to keep their eyes on hers and not drift south.
“Hello, uh, miss…”
You nearly rolled your eyes as you looked up from your drink, half gone already, to find another sucker that Momo would have to reject. As soon as your eyes landed on him, you were struck by how different this one was from the others. He didn’t look like the usual meathead dude-bro who swung by. He had a round face and freckles smattered under the roundest green eyes you’d ever seen. He looked sheepish already, anticipating the rejection he’d get from talking to a girl so far out of his league.
You felt the jolt of an elbow in your ribs and looked at Momo who was giving you intense eyes, eyebrows raised. She looked at you and then at the boy with the green hair, tilting her head, and suddenly you realized that you were “miss.”
“Oh, hello,” you said, unable to hide the confusion on your face.
“I’m Izuku,” the man said, smiling softly at you. “Would you, um, care to dance?”
You smiled. It sounded like this boy was expecting a waltz instead of the hips that were grinding against each other in the middle of this dance floor.
“I’m… not sure,” you said, so unfamiliar with the procedure here that you were floundering. “You see, I don’t really dance.”
The boy breathed out what looked to be a sigh of relief and you suddenly noticed the muscles bulging under his t-shirt. His cute, innocent face was hiding a man who was seriously stacked. “The truth is, I don’t usually dance either. I was pressured into coming here by some friends.”
You looked over at Momo. “We know the feeling.”
“Ah, I’m so sorry, I didn’t get your names,” Izuku said, suddenly looking between the two of you.
Momo looked at you for a second then said, “I’m Momo and this is Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Izuku.”
“You as well,” Izuku said to Momo before turning back to you. “You know, the thing about dancing is that if you just start and let go of everything, it can actually be kind of fun.”
This boy sounded just like Mina, the same argument she made every time she dragged you and Momo to one of these things. Sometimes you managed to let your guard down enough to enjoy it, sometimes not.
“It’s also more fun with someone else.”
Izuku was looking at you hopefully, and that just made his eyes even wider, such a dark forest green in the dim light of the club. You could feel yourself being pulled to him, like a string between you growing taut when Momo put a hand on your arm. “I’ll hold your drink and just come back when you want it, okay?”
Momo was giving you an intent gaze and you knew she was offering you an out. Try dancing with the boy and, if it wasn’t turning out well, say that you needed to go back to your friend. Easy.
“Okay,” you said, taking one more sip before handing your drink off to her. Then you extended you hand toward Izuku, who took it with his broadest smile yet, and led you into the mosh pit.
There was no sign of Mina or Tooru anywhere, haven fallen invisible in the throng of people. So it was just you and Izuku and a hundred strangers, all feeling the music sync with their heartbeats and then their hips, sending them moving.
You started facing each other, your hips moving from side to side, the rhythm slowly moving up so that your shoulders were shimmying, head bobbing. Izuku grinned, bopping along excitedly. He wasn’t a smooth dancer, not cool or rhythmic, but he didn’t seem to care. He put his hands lightly on your hips, encouraging you to move a little more. Asking you to let go.
You let your hips follow his touch and laughed when he rocked you from side to side, totally out of line with anything that might be sensual or suggestive. It was silly and you realized that maybe you’d been putting too much pressure to look a certain way, to be a certain kind of person. Music was for everyone, dancing was for everyone. Izuku seemed to know that already.
You wrapped your arms around his waist, giving yourself into the joy as the two of you rocked, free of expectation or anyone else’s experience. Before you knew it, the music had changed, the next song slightly slower, and your motions smoothed out to match. Izuku slid one of his hands back into yours and raised it over your head, initiating a turn. You went along and the next thing you knew, your back was pressed against his muscular chest, hips moving in tandem.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
“Mhmm.”
You could feel all corners of him pressed against you and you couldn’t help but push back into him. His chest was broader than it seemed, and you could feel the crease of his pecs, of his abs. His hands were on your hips, strong arms brushing your sides. You brought one hand up to touch his bare bicep, feeling how hard it was even unflexed.
Suddenly, you could feel Izuku’s breath on your jaw, the flutter of his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. You tilted your head, exposing the long column of your neck to him. He took that as invitation enough and pressed a kiss to it. He kissed up to your jawline and just behind your ear. He gave the lightest of sucks before you pulled away and offered him your mouth.
He took it eagerly, your lips moving at the same pace as your gyrating hips. You lost yourself in the feeling, the anonymity of kissing, hidden in a crowd of people. The rhythmic dance of your hips lulling you into a kind of easy complacency as you felt Izuku’s hand on the back of your neck, keeping your lips against his. The other one crept forward on your thigh, awfully close to your center, to the hem of your too-short skirt. He never breached either line, though. Just kept his hand there, suggesting where it could go.
“Come home with me,” you whispered when you separated for breath.
“What?” Izuku asked, face flushed, voice just carrying over the music.
You twisted back around so that you were face to face so that you could press your lips right up against his ear. “Come home with me, Izuku.”
You called for a car and sent Momo a text saying that you were going home. You hoped that Momo, Mina, and Tooru wouldn’t want to come back to your shared home anytime soon—Momo was smart enough to figure that out herself.
Twenty minutes later and you were home, you were horny, and you had someone willing and able to solve that.
“You’re not drunk, are you?” Izuku asked while you unlocked the door and ushered him in, kicking off your shoes as quickly as you could.
“Half a drink,” you said quickly. “You?”
“None.”
“Perfect,” you said, and you wrapped your arms around him once again, pulling him in for a kiss.
Izuku did you one better, grabbing hold of your thighs and picking you up like you weighed nothing. Your dress rose up over your hips and your center fell right against his crotch, grinding into it.
You were ready to give directions to your room, but Izuku didn’t carry you further than the living room before slamming your back against a wall and pressing his hips into yours. You gasped at the impact, but it was nothing painful—just surprising. Izuku dug his fingers into your thighs and said, “You seemed awfully eager for this. Desperate enough to handle a little roughness, princess? Or did you think this was gonna be easy?”
The epithet of princess send your heart plunging to your core, heat spreading throughout you. His voice was low, much lower than it had been at the club and your thighs clenched around him. “I thought…maybe…”
He’d been so sweet at the club, shy almost. You tasted his tongue on yours and he hadn’t been lying—no alcohol. The only taste passing between the two of you was the tang from your whiskey ginger. But now his grip on you and the low growl in his voice was telling you another story.
“Do you wanna be rough or do you wanna be a little princess? Or maybe both?”
“Both,” you keened desperately, breathlessly.
“I shoulda known, you grinding down on my cock like that,” he said, nibbling your exposed neck. “Can’t wait for me to fuck you, can you?”
He pulled back so you slid an inch down the wall, but his grip was tight enough to keep you from falling any further. Then his hips slammed back into yours, as though you were fucking already.
“Shit,” you whispered as he bit down on your collarbone.
“If you’re good, I’ll give you what you want,” he said. “If you’re not, it’s going to be a very long night.”
That half threat was almost enough to trigger your backtalk, see exactly what he had in mind to turn this night into a long one. But, by the same coin, you wanted to see what he had planned already.
“I’m good,” you whimpered.
“You are?” Izuku asked. “Prove it.”
He pressed his chest into yours, and you felt your breasts flatten against his pecs, your ribs trapped from a deep breath by his thick forearms.
“Strip and suck my cock.”
You unwrapped your legs from his waist and he released you to the ground. Your dress was stretchy and off in an instant, thrown to the floor, panties soon to follow. Then you were on your knees undoing his dark jeans and pulling out his long, plump cock.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, stroking your hair.
Preening at the praise, you wrapped your lips around your teeth, and swallowed him as far as you could go in one go. You wanted to be a good girl, after all.
“Shit,” Izuku said, keeping a light grip on the back of your head, but letting you do what you want, setting your own pace. You wasted no time with playful licks and kisses, immediately bobbing your head up and down and stroking the rest with your hand.
The noises that Izuku made, little huffs and whines, were cute, showing glimpses of the shy boy who had approached you at the club. He took off his shirt and you could see his abs in all their glory, even better than you’d imagined. As you sucked him off, you brought a hand up to the ridges of his lower abs and rubbed lightly, enjoying the hard muscle. After a trip down to his balls, sucking one into his mouth and you kept up your firm strokes, Izuku pulled you off, breathing heavily.
“That’s good. You’ve proven that you’re a good girl, princess.”
“I did?” you asked shyly, giving his cock a long lick just to make sure.
“Yes,” Izuku shuddered. “Stand against the wall.”
“Here?” you asked.
There were windows all over your living room, giving a clear view to the street and, more importantly, from the street into your apartment. More than that, there was no telling when your housemates would get home and, even if they knew you’d brought a boy home, they’d hardly expect him to be fucking you in the living room.
“Was I unclear, princess?”
“No,” you said, and you went to stand facing the wall. Izuku came up behind you and knocked your legs further apart, and then reached in front of you, rubbing two fingers from your slit up to your clit in a couple firm strokes. You gasped, your head falling forward, but before you could get used to the rough touch, he was gone.
“Where do you keep your condoms?” he asked casually.
“In my nightstand,” you said, moving to stand straight. He pushed your hands back against the wall, warning you not to move.
“Which room is yours?”
“The far one on the left,” you said, only turning your head to look over your shoulder.
“Good,” he said. “Don’t move.”
Then he was gone, leaving you naked, legs spread in your living room. You could feel how drenched you were—Izuku had taken a whole globule of your wetness and spread it all over your pussy. Now, standing spread, you could feel the cold air from the room on you when all you wanted was heat.
Izuku took his time in coming back, slow footfalls making their way back to the living room. You saw a box of condoms drop on the couch next to you and heard the telltale sound of one of the packages being ripped open. The next thing you knew, Izuku’s hands were on your hips, just like at the club, only now his cock was free, sliding in the slick of your pussy.
You gasped, pushing harder against the wall and thrusting your ass back toward Izuku. “Please,” you whimpered.
“Oh, you don’t have to ask,” Izuku said casually. “I know exactly what your slutty pussy wants. I can feel it dripping all over my cock. And you’ve been very good, princess, but that doesn’t mean that you’re in charge. Understand?”
“Yes, Izuku.”
You were pushed forward by the sudden force of a slap against your ass, then Izuku’s chest pressing firmly back into yours, his teeth by your ear. “Yes, who?”
“Yes, sir,” you whispered.
“That’s better.”
He went back to thrusting, one of his hands snaking around your front, through your curls to spread your lips. Your puffy clit was exposed to the air and Izuku’s fingers spreading the skin provided just the slightest bit of pressure, but not nearly enough. You whined, bending more into him, aching for more contact than the occasional brush of his cock skating across your clit. But you wanted to be a good girl too.
“Okay, sweetheart,” Izuku said, his thrusts coming to a stop as the head of his cock butterflied your opening. “You’ve been very patient. Are you ready for your reward?”
“Yes, sir,” you breathed.
You groaned in relief as he split you open, sinking into you just as he pulled his fingers in a hard, slow stroke up your clit.
“You like that, princess?” Izuku asked, making his thrusts slow and deep, his finger’s strokes on your clit languid and intentional.
“Yes,” you moaned, rocking your weight back onto your heels as you met Izuku’s every plunge.
“You feel so good,” Izuku said, his voice becoming softer and more breathy as he got lost in the feel of you. His right hand began spinning circles on your clit, the left wrapped around your middle, fingertips rubbing almost tenderly along your side.
You could only pant, leaning your head back on his shoulder as Izuku’s thrusts sped up, your climax rising within you. “Fuck,” you murmured as his left hand fell to your hip, changing the angle so that he was now pounding your g-spot with every go. He continued like that for a minute, each hit bringing you higher and higher until he suddenly stopped.
“What?” you asked, and the next thing you knew, you were being pushed to the arm of your couch, a hand to the small of your back pressing your spine parallel to the floor, and—before you knew what was happening—he was back in you, going full speed.
You gasped, your head falling down, nipples rubbing against the fabric of the couch as your tits were sent swinging. That sensation caught you, sending fresh sparks through you.
“Are you close, Princess?” Izuku breathed, his quick thrusts breaking his voice.
“Yes, sir.”
“Touch yourself, then.”
You followed his instruction immediately, snaking your hand down to your clit and rubbing it with your practiced touch. The feeling of your cold fingers against your scorching clit, Izuku’s hot cock railing in and out of you, and the occasional spark of your nipples rubbing against the couch had you on the edge of your peak in no time.
“You gonna cum, baby? You gonna cum on my cock?”
“Yes,” you whispered, the heat in your stomach burning, almost unbearable as you reached your cusp.
“I’m close too, Y/N,” Izuku whispered. “God, you’re so perfect.”
He leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto your shoulder just as you shattered around him, keening as you rubbed yourself through your orgasm.
“Fuck,” he said, and you felt his thrusts become jagged, barely leaving you every time before plunging balls deep back into you. He shuddered and, before long, he finished too, taking slow, easy thrusts in and out of you before falling fully on your back, wrapping his arms around your middle.
He stayed there for just a moment before pulling out, taking off his condom and knotting it. You’d collapsed onto the arm of your sofa, face falling down the side as you tried to get your breath back under you, the feeling back into your legs.
“Was that too much?” Izuku asked, his voice soft and gentle again as he came in front of you, gently putting his fingers under your chin to bring your face back to him.
“No, that was amazing,” you said.
Izuku smiled and brought your lips to his for a quick kiss. “I’m glad. Where do you keep your water glasses?”
“Cabinet above the sink.”
“Great.”
Izuku gave you another kiss, this time on the cheek, and then he was gone. You stayed still for a few more moments, your breath back in both hands, the heat seeping from your face slowly but steadily. You pressed yourself up, curling your spine like a cat to fight against the deep sway you’d had against the couch and the wall and gave a little shimmy to work out the kinks. You took a quick trip to the bathroom, then you went around and scooped up all the pieces of clothing that had been thrown hither and yon and carted them back to your room. You’d just flipped on the light switch and dropped them in a pile on the floor when Izuku came back with a glass of water and a wash cloth.
“You got up,” he said.
“I just didn’t want my roommates to get home to find me fucked out against the couch,” you said with a smile, taking the glass he handed to you. “We have house rules.”
“That’s fair,” Izuku said as you took a glug of water. “Lie back on the bed.”
His voice was far less demanding than before, but you went along anyway. You set the water glass on the nightstand and then lay down, allowing Izuku to spread your legs. Some of the old heat returned to your face and you looked away from him as he took the washcloth to your center.
“There’s no need to be embarrassed,” he said.
“It’s just different,” you squeaked. “After we’re done…In the full light and you’re just down there looking at me.”
“It’s only for a moment longer,” Izuku said as he cleaned you. True to his word, he took the washcloth away after a moment, pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, and said, “You’re beautiful.”
The washcloth was added to the stack of clothes on the floor, and then Izuku was back in front of you, running his fingers lightly along the outside of your thigh.
“Thanks for tonight,” he said softly.
You sat up, putting a hand on his arm. “Stay.”
“Can I?”
His eyes were wide and innocent, like he hadn’t just fucked you raw in plain sight of the neighbors. Like he hadn’t spanked you and called you princess.
“Of course,” you said.
“I’m glad.” He smiled. “Cuddling is kind of my favorite part.”
“Is it, now?”
“I’ll prove it,” Izuku said, flipping off the light and climbing into bed behind you as you settled in. Then he had you wrapped tight in his arms, pulled flush against his chest. He let out a deep, satisfied sigh into your neck and said, “It’s just the best.”
“It kind of is,” you said, snuggling back against him.
There were a few more murmurs shared between you two but, slowly, the words fell loose, eyes falling closed. Your breathing evened out, and then there was nothing but Izuku’s arms and breath around yours.
“There’s a box of condoms on the couch!” you heard Mina screech a couple hours later, jolting you out of your deep sleep. You felt Izuku’s arms tighten protectively around you as he too let out a sharp intake of breath. “Our girl fucked!”
“Ooh, what a surprise!” Tooru cheered.
“Out here?” you heard Momo groan, her voice much more tired than Mina’s or Tooru’s.
“Dammit,” you whispered, and Izuku giggled behind you.
“That was my fault, I’m sorry.”
“Shh, just go back to sleep,” you said. “If we wake up early, we can sneak you out before any of them are up.”
“So long as I get to see you again,” Izuku murmured, nuzzling back into your shoulder.
Your chest warmed and you pulled Izuku’s arms closer against you, gripping them tightly before your hold fell lax in sleep. Tooru was right—you’d gotten the surprise you’d wanted.
“Definitely.”
631 notes
·
View notes
Note
🌼‘s Summary for Eren and Fem!Reader request: Eren wakes up to the sounds of Y/N crying and learned that her family had to cancel their vacation plans due to the ongoing virus pandemic (Eren was also bummed out that he was unable to visit his parents, Mikasa, and Armin because of the same reasons and they urged him and Y/N to stay home just to be safe). Then, Eren wrapped Y/N in his naked body to comfort her until he hatched an idea before asking Y/N to wait in bed until he returns (part 1)
hi! of course!! i hope you like it, honey! sorry for all the waiting!!
end of the request: (Part 2 of request) and has Y/N to listen to music or read a book in his absence. After Eren returns to Y/N, he had Y/N close her eyes while he carried her outside to the flower meadow near their home. Once they reached the meadow, Eren places a flower crown on Y/N before having her open her eyes. After Y/N opened her eyes, she sees that Eren is still naked except for the eucalyptus crown on his head and sees that Eren set up a little flower festival for the both of them along with a picnic basket of food he set down and Eren commented that the flower crown on her head matched her f/c nightgown she’s still wearing. Then Y/N began to cry with happiness and embraces him before they enjoy their little festival activities in the meadow. Finally, while watching the clouds in the sky together, Eren cradled Y/N in his arms and hummed/sang Isabellas Lullaby (I see him singing AmaLees version of the song) before falling asleep and napping on his still bare shoulder. Eren proposes Y/N to marry him before the end of the flower festival request? Could you add that part in as part of the one-shot?
························································································································
eren x fem!reader
w: nudity
························································································································
You put the phone in your little table again, tears falling fast from your eyes. You turn around. Eren is still sleeping, his calm breath making his chest raise quietly. You put your head on his neck crook, tears still falling silently, wanting to feel your boyfriend next to you, getting a little comfort from him. He moves a little.
“Y/N?” he asks. His voice isn’t more than a sleepy whisper and his arms are now around your waist, getting you closer to him. “Are you crying, love?” he asks. He can hear your quiet sobs, feel your irregular breathing against his body. “What happened?” his tone is still low, but the sweetness on his voice is clear.
“I can’t visit my family this summer.” you say, on a whisper. Tears are falling again. He caresses your hair with soft movements.
“They did approve the mobility law, hm?” It was just a project, but it seems like it’s now a reality. You feel Eren’s skin against yours while he attracts you closer, your face against his chest, his lips giving you sweet kisses on the top of your hair. You enjoy his proximity, one of your hands resting near your head, giving his chest some caresses. Then, he has an idea.
“Love, could you wait here for me a second?” he asks. You look at him, your eyes still swollen because of crying. You nod.
“Where are you going?” you ask while he gets up, his naked body receiving the first golden rays. He just smiles, giving you a near manga and kissing your lips before going out to the corridor.
While you read, Eren doesn’t make a sound, as if he was missing. Maybe he is on the little field you have at home. Since you bought a house on the countryside, your house has a really big parcel, where you have some flowers and plants. While he’s away, you’re able to end some manga volumes, really enjoying the story, when you hear his voice.
“Close your eyes, love.” he asks. You do so, always having that blind faith on him. He enters the room, and you feel his proximity. “I’m going to take you in my arms, okay?” he asks. You nod and feel how he sneaks a hand under your knees, the other having your back. “Don’t open them until I tell you, please” he asks. You nod, your body searching proximity with his. He leaves you on something that feels like a blanket. You can hear birds and feel the sun on your skin. A little pressure on your head, as if Eren placed something on it. “Open them.” he asks.
You take a minute to adapt your eyes to the sudden light, analyzing where you are. You’re in the flower camp, sitting near the lilacs. His head is now adorned with an eucalyptus crown, the only thing on his body. He has his hands behind his body, hiding something. He takes a little picnic basket, putting it on the floor. Then, you see around you. A blanket under your body, with some plates and the picnic, and Eren by your side, smiling at you while he opens the basket.
“Eren, what’s this?” you ask, amazed. The sun makes his skin smoother and his eyes greener, his smile as beautiful as always.
“It’s just a little festival. Just for the two of us.” Then, you’re aware of the low music playing on the background, really calming and relaxing beats sound from his phone. He gives you a plate with fruit, looking at your head. You look at your reflection on the phone. A flower crown is on your hair.
“Eren, this is...”
“You look beautiful.” he says, simply. “And a lot more now that you’re smiling.” Your eyes became full of tears after your boyfriend’s words, and that made you jump into his arms, your head on the crook of his neck, smelling that sweet scent Eren always has. He wraps your body with his arms, putting you even closer to him. “Thanks, Eren.” you say.
“I didn’t want to see you sad because you couldn’t go to that trip. So I decided to make our vacations special.” he says. “I prepared a lot of things to do.”
And he did. From a sweet karaoke, a fun game about guessing drawings and the projection of a film on the wall of your house to teaching you how to make flower crowns. Now, he’s kissing you softly, your legs tangled while his hands explore your back. He doesn’t rush, he kisses you slowly, as if he wanted to make this moment eternal, and you’re thankful for it. He parts. It’s almost night, some stars appearing on the sky. He looks at them and you look at him. He takes something from the basket. You thought you ended the food.
“See, you’re the woman of my dreams. The only one that understands me with just a sight, the only one that makes me feel good with just a smile. I’m sure you’re the girl of my life and i will love you forever. And you don’t know how immensely happy I’ll be if you accept that love.” he takes a little ring from the picnic basket. Your eyes began to drop tears. “Would you marry me?” he asks. You nod, incapable of talking, while he slides the ring on your finger. He hugs you and you kiss him, so happy. You’re gonna marry him.
You’re gonna marry the love of your life.
You’re still between his arms, some minutes later, his lips leaving sweet kisses on your body while you caress the wrist near your chest. Eren starts to hum a song, something you know but you can’t recognize. He starts to sing quietly.
“Let me sing a lullaby
As you close your eyes”
The song enters your ears softly and you feel Eren’s hands caressing your hair. You snuggle against him.
“And as you're drifting off to sleep
How I hope that the dreams that you find are bright
Love, can we meet again soon in the bluest of skies?
Where a tomorrow waits for you and I
So hold me tight one more time”
Your eyes are now closed as he feels your calm breath. He caresses you as he smiles, the ring on your finger shining with the moonlight. He feels so empty, so good and warm. He’ll be your husband. He can’t wait.
“I’ll make you happy, y/n. I promise.”
#aot x reader#aot fluff#aot fic#aot fanfiction#aot scenario#snk x reader#snk fluff#snk headcanons#snk fic#eren x reader#eren jaeger#snk eren#eren aot#eren x you#eren x y/n#eren comfort#eren jeager x reader#eren jaeger fluff#eren jeager x you
84 notes
·
View notes
Text
Warnings: Mentions of a degenerative disease, angst, fluff, character dead
LevixFem!Y/N
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
When you met Levi for the first time when he joined the Survey Corps you were certain that the stoic, ill-mannered raven-haired was going to be yours. With your joyful and caring personality, you were quite popular among your male peers; however, you only had eyes for one man.
Despite Levi’s efforts to suppress his feelings, he realized he had fallen hard for you. He would helplessly stutter when he talked with you and his gaze would unconsciously follow you whenever you were around. Your laughter would bright up a shitty day, and it irked him when another man made you laugh. Indeed, Levi wanted to confess, but was afraid to screw it up. It wasn’t a scenario he was prepared for.
He was utterly doomed.
Nonetheless, the universe conspired in his favor the day you went straight to his office, opened the door without knocking and firmly approached the ravenette who was busy with paperwork. He didn’t even have time to complain at your intrusion because his lips were already prisoners of yours. Levi was left dumbfounded, his eyes widely opened, his entire face flustered, and he was doubtless his heart was about to explode.
He instinctively cupped your face in his hands and deepened the kiss as all the tension drifted away from his shoulders. Your lips moved slowly and clumsily first, but didn’t take long to adjust to the perfect rhythm. Your heart pounded in your chest and your trembling knees were about to give up. You could not focus in anything, but on how soft his lips felt against yours. You had found a new addiction.
You finally broke the kiss and stared at each other in the eye. “What the…” Levi was still processing what just had happened.
“I wasn’t going to be left with the desire” you said between soft pants. Then an awkward silence filled the room, Levi tugged at the collar of his shirt, while you bit your lower lip. “Well...” you pursed your lips in a thin line.
“Stop b...by after dinner. I’ll make t…tea for both of us, I... got this new blend from the capital…” he stammered, his eyes darted towards the window.
“I’ll get the biscuits” you proposed while inspecting your nails.
“Great”
“Great. Uh, my squad is gathering soon… see you then” you waved your hand and left his office.
You and Levi had been together ever since then. Despite your tight working schedules, you’d always make time to see each other. You would steal kisses from him when no one was looking and leave love notes on his desk with the cheesiest messages you came up with. They were a treasure for him and kept every single one in one of his drawers. Levi, on the other hand, demonstrated his love through acts of service, like brewing tea for you, making sure you had had breakfast every morning, or having your clothes washed, folded and put away. Since words were not his forte, he showed his affection in his own way.
Everything seemed perfect until one night you abruptly woke up covered in cold sweat, your nose was bleeding too. Levi sat up and lit an oil lamp to get a better look. He alarmed when he spotted your lips, chin and hands already stained in the crimson liquid. “Are you alright?” He placed his hand on your cheek and swiped away your tears with his thumb.
“Yeah” you sniffled. “It must be just stress, I’m sorry for waking you up”
Levi planted a kiss on your forehead before getting off the bed. He came back from the bathroom with a damp cloth and cleaned the dry blood from your face and hands. He then changed the bed sheets as well as your stained night gown, and went back to bed, his hand caressing your hair until you fell asleep again.
Several days later a ticklish sensation manifested in your hands and feet, but you shrugged it off claiming it was anxiety for the upcoming expeditions. Nevertheless, the tingling feeling became more recurrent, and spread to your arms and legs. Then came the numbness that engulfed your limbs and the declined in your grip strength that hindered your performance, and put your life in great danger during one of the expeditions. Levi grew tired of your shitty excuses and forced you to go see a doctor, since Hange and Moblit couldn’t find a cause for the unusual signs.
But nothing had prepared you for the news you were about to received. According to the doctor, you suffered from a brain degenerative disease that didn’t have a cure, nor a known root cause; and the worst part: your symptoms would aggravate with time.
“He must be overreacting” you weakly smiled when you left the doctor’s office. “It can’t be that bad” you knew it was, though. Remembrances of your early childhood came back. You’d never understood why your mother was left disabled and bedridden for so long before passing away until that moment; and the doctor’s words had confirmed your greatest fear: you had inherited the same illness that had taken your mother’s life.
Little by little, you went from trembling to limping to nearly lost the mobility of your lower body. The muscle mass you had gained through the years of military training was vanishing, and the pain had become unbearable, not even the strongest medication brought relief.
Now, you were lying in bed with Levi, resting your head on his chest and having your legs intertwined with his, while he pressed soft kisses on your head.
“Levi” you muttered. “Forgive my selfishness. Sometimes I wish I was death” He scowled at your words and lifted his head. “Oi, don’t say that” His gaze saddened when he glanced at your glistening eyes.
“You know it’d be better for both of us. I won’t be in pain anymore and you won’t have to deal with this burden”
“Stop it, I don’t wanna hear it” He clenched his fist and took a deep breath to restrain his tears. “I can’t lose you, (name). I might be the selfish one, but I don’t know what I’d do without you”
You chuckled.
“What? I didn’t say anything funny”
You shook your head. “I just remembered the day I told you I wanted you to be the father of my kids. You almost choke on your tea” you giggled.
“Yeah, pretty funny...” He remarked sarcastically.
“They’ve would’ve been so cute, you know, with your hair and eyes” you sighed. “Isn’t it a cruel joke of the universe to lead me to you and not let us age together?”
“Hey...” His eyes filled with tears. “You’re talking like you’ve already given up”
“I’m just tired”
Yes. You were tired of everything. You couldn’t stand the pain, the useless medication, the pity stares. You were tired of being a burden to your friends, and mainly to Levi.
“Get some sleep, I’ll bake your favorite cookies tomorrow morning”
“That sounds good”
“They’re not as good as yours, though”
“No one can beat my recipe”
“Cocky, aren’t we?”
You chuckled. “Can we have chai tea with the cookies?”
“Chai tea will be”
You closed your eyes and the corners of your mouth lifted. Levi’s beating heart was steady and relaxing. “I love you, Levi”
“I love you too, (name)” He waited for you to fall asleep before he succumbed to slumber. His poor sleeping habits eased when you were lying by his side; you had become his shelter, the light of his eyes and the only person he had fully opened his heart to.
Levi woke up first the following morning with you peacefully asleep, your head buried in his chest and your arm wrapped around his torso. Too peacefully asleep, indeed. “(name)” he whispered, but didn’t get any response, not even a whine nor your usual 5 more minutes, please. He uncovered your upper body and carefully unwrapped your arm off of him. A hard object hidden under the covers got his attention. He found it and examined the small container.
His eyes went wide as a sharp pain pierced through his heart when he read the label.
His jaw quivered and tears streamed down his face.
His world was shattering around him.
It was the most recent medication prescribed by your doctor.
It wasn’t even a week old and it was supposed to last a month.
But the flask was already empty.
#levi x y/n#levixreader#levi aot#levi ackerman fanfiction#levi ackerman#shingeki no kyojin#levi shingeki no kyojin#levi attack on titan#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#sad ending
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
Book of Soulmates
Cruel
pairing: Yoongi x reader
premise: to be honest, trying to quietly study in the library while your soulmate is undergoing surgery is some new form of cruel and unusual punishment.
disclaimer: I don’t mean to ‘use’ Yoongi’s shoulder issues, however I just got to thinking about this bond and this was a realistic question that I had. Please don’t take offense.
The library isn’t the ideal place to be suppressing my pain. It’s deathly quiet in here today, everyone is busy studying as though their lives depend on it. However, as my shoulder hurts more than it ever has before, I’m finding it hard to remain quiet.
“You should’ve gone,” my best friend, Alisa, whispers beside me. Her eyes remain on her book, but she knows exactly what’s going on. “They made it sound like it was going to be pretty serious. Poor Yoongi.”
I roll my eyes. “At least he’s gone under for this!”
“You could have, too!”
I hate it when she's right. Shrugging, I groan at the pain that sears through my body. “You know...that’s not...” my words trail off as it becomes impossible to speak due to the pain.
Alisa sets down her textbook, turning to face me. Her eyes widen when she sees the state I’m in. “Woah. Ok, we need to get you out of here.”
I shake my head. “No way. I’ve never chickened out before, and today-”
“And today you’ll realize that there’s a first time for everything.” Before I can grind out any objections, Alisa is grabbing me and dragging me along. “C’mon.”
The walk to the elevator is exhausting, and as soon as I’m inside I’m slumped up against Alisa and panting.
“I’m calling them,” Alisa says, grabbing my phone from my pocket.
“No, I-”
“I know this isn’t how you wanted to meet him, but you’re not about to go through this. That’s just cruel.”
Unable to respond as another bout of pain nearly knocks me off my feet, I can only listen as Alisa dials the number that Sejin put in my phone.
Three weeks ago, a wary-looking man appeared on my doorstep. I recognized him immediately: it was Manager Sejin.
“Do you experience pain in your shoulder?” Were the first words out of his mouth.
Turns out, Bighit had been trying to track down Min Yoongi’s soulmate for months, so they could bring them in and help them through what was sure to be a painful experience.
The fact that Yoongi was my soulmate didn’t come at as much of a shock to me than the way that I would be forced to meet him.
I felt like a side affect. Yoongi would have to get surgery, so he would have to meet me. And while I was aware just how foolish it was, I rejected the offer. Hopefully if Yoongi’s shoulder was numb, mine would be too.
There was no way I was going to let my soulmate associate me with something as unpleasant as surgery. If I was going to meet him, it was going to be on my own terms.
Why couldn’t the two of you have some adorable, drama-like first meeting? In a flower shop? At a park?
Instead, the plan that was proposed meant hospital rooms and fluorescent lights. Hospital gowns and anesthesia.
Now, as I fight against a black-out, I really wish I would have just requested to be put under. A less than perfect first meeting surely would have felt better than the pain I’m feeling right now.
“Hey, can you hear me?”
Alisa is hovering over me. Somehow I ended up on the ground...when did that happen?
“El...elevator?” My words are slurred now, however the pain is as sharp as ever.
Alisa shakes her head. “We’re in front of the library. Sejin is on his way. Apparently he was at your apartment already, trying to find you.”
“Ah.” A part of me wants to compliment Sejin for his quick thinking. Surely they weren’t planning on letting me go through this alone. However, before I can get the words out, the world turns to shadows.
~~
Opening my eyes feels like swimming through concrete, so I decide to just give up the fight and keep them shut a little while longer. If only that annoying beeping noise would quit.
“You’ll regain mobility after a few weeks, we just have to take it one day at a time-”
“What about her? It didn’t mess with her shoulder, right?”
Are they talking about me?
The voice that I first heard speaks up again, responding to the agitated one. “She’ll be fine. Her shoulder will be a little sore, but it will fade within the next couple of days.”
“I feel awful, she probably hates me. Even the thought of it...you said she was in the library?”
Wait a second. Is that...?
“Yeah. I spoke to her friend, we’re working on issuing a statement to the library staff-”
“She hates me, I’m sure of it.” Yoongi’s voice is low and uncertain. “I just made her sit through a surgery and caused a scene in a public space. What kind of soulmate does that make me?”
The sound of footsteps alerts me to Sejin getting up to leave. “I don’t think she hates you. But you’ll have to ask her yourself. She’s stubborn, I’ll tell you that much.”
All is quiet as the door snicks shut, and suddenly I find that I’m very capable of opening my eyes. Heart nearly pounding out of my chest, I force myself to stay still as I strain to listen to any more sounds.
A curtain splits the room in half, but the knowledge that Yoongi is on the other side is enough to have me contemplating all possible escape routes. The good news is that I’m still in my street clothes. Surely nobody will think twice if I just slip through the halls, right?
Funny, I think to myself. Now that I’m here, I’m not sure I really want to leave.
The small sound of Yoongi’s sigh is enough to nearly have me jolt out of my skin, but somehow I’m able to keep quiet.
“She hates me, I’m sure of it.”
His words from just a moment before make me wince. Staring up at the ceiling as though it may come crashing down at any possible moment, I open my mouth.
“I don’t hate you.”
My voice croaks from my long sleep, but I’m too busy straining to hear if Yoongi will respond to care about it too much.
He gasps, the sound almost making me smile.
“You...don’t?” He sounds a little hopeful, and now a smile does break across my face.
I shake my head, despite him not being able to see me. “No. I don’t.”
He sighs again. “I mean, you have every right to, you know that?”
“I know.”
It’s quiet for a little while longer until I feel like I’m going to combust if I don’t move soon. Wincing and hissing at every sound the bed makes as I get up, I give my shoulder a quick test.
It still works, which is a relief. Definitely sore, though.
“You’re not leaving, right?” Yoongi asks.
I tiptoe over to the edge of the curtain. “No. I thought I should say hello to my neighbor, though.”
“Ah.”
“May I?”
It’s quiet for a moment, and I listen to the quiet rustling as Yoongi moves around a bit. “Sure, yeah.”
Stepping around the curtain, I keep my eyes down until I’m standing at the edge of the bed. Slowly, I look up at my soulmate.
As I meet his dark eyes, a part of me wants to laugh at his mussed hair, while the other part wants to cry at the cast that holds his arm close to his chest.
How could I ever hate you?
“Hello,” Yoongi breathes out. I smile.
“Hello. I’ve come to keep you company,” I explain, turning to grab a chair and pull it closer.
Yoongi nods, a small smile ghosting his lips. “Good.”
“Would you like me to turn on a movie? Read aloud?” I look to my soulmate expectantly, hoping that he doesn’t notice how pink I’ve turned.
He shakes his head slowly, brows creasing at the effort. “No. This is perfect.”
masterlist
#soulmate aui#myg#Yoongi shared pain au#soulmate shared pain#soulmate pain au#bts soulmate au#bts soulmates#soulmate#yoongi#min yoongi#suga#min suga#suga fluff#suga x reader#bts request#bts oneshot
257 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tell Me What You Want Me to Do to You༄ mark l.
↳ On an awfully planned trip with your best friend Mark, the place you end up spending the night in is not what you had in mind. Oh well, at least Mark’s there to keep you company. And apparently, he’s a pretty great kisser too.
pairing: bestfriend!mark x f!reader
genre: fluff, suggestive, friends to lovers, college!au
wordcount: 1.8k words
author’s note: i’m so sorry that i can’t add the ‘keep reading’ thing. i’ve tried, but every time i do it, the whole post gets wonky and i can’t edit it on mobile anymore. i’ve even tried desktop tumblr but the same thing happens :(
Request 32: Mark + “I need a hug.” (42) + “Stop being so cute.” (67) + “Put me down!” (153) + “There’s only one bed...” (154) [F2L + Suggestive]
— 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝.
In hindsight, a trip with your best friend sounded like a more than sound idea. The two of you had combined what limited knowledge you had about general adulting, scrounged up most that you could considering your financial situations as two college kids, and, in essence, had made things worked.
Or at the very least, you think, eyes scanning the room, taking in the general gist of the next addition to your mountain of already existing issues, made things happen.
And to answer a question; yes, there is a significant difference between work and happen.
Mark sighs wearily. It’s most likely due to the ridiculously lengthy car ride the two of you had been subjected to just to get here (and the back-and-forth bickering over whose bright idea it was to decide to go on holiday when the travelling industry is at its peak—it had been Mark’s, by the way, something about promotions and discount prices) and the even more absurd hike—or as the cheery staff liked to call it—expedition to your room.
“I can’t believe you convinced me to take a trip to the middle of nowhere, Mark.”
“Excuse me, this is not ‘the middle of nowhere’. According to the website, this is a ‘refined establishment which offers a fresh look into life alongside Mother Nature’,” defends Mark, letting the duffel bag stuffed with clothing he has slung over his shoulder slip to the ground with not an ounce of care.
“Well, that’s marketing for you.” You roll your eyes. “Just admit, you screwed up.”
Mark scoffs, unwilling to admit his defeat. “Not my fault that you’re a city girl.”
“This has nothing to do with me being a ‘city girl’. And you say that like you’re not a city boy.” Mark is tempted to say something petty in response but bites back his words. “And we have a bigger problem at hand right now, Mark.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s a big problem…”
“Dude,” you deadpan. “It’s a big problem. There’s only one bed.”
Mark clicks his tongue. “We can come up with something… I, uh, I could sleep on the floor?”
“In this weather? You’ll be dead of hypothermia by morning. So, no.”
“Christ, alright then I guess we’ll just have to sleep on the same bed,” says Mark casually, falling onto the linen sheets. The bed creaks under his weight.
You shoot him an incredulous look. “Together? On the same bed?”
“Yeah, why not? We’ve done it before when we were kids.” Mark stares blankly up at the ceiling. “What’s so different about back then to now?”
You laugh wryly. “What’s different? We did it when we were kids, Mark. Kids.” Your face warms as you give Mark a once-over, taking it how much he’s grown into his good looks over the years. “I can list off plenty of things that have changed since we were literal children.”
Mark flips onto his side to face you head-on, an elbow propping him up. “Why? What’s wrong? You got a crush on me now?”
You roll your eyes, but your cheeks pool with even more blistering heat. “Ugh, as if.”
“Damn, alright then, Cher Horowitz,” jeers Mark.
You stick your tongue out at Mark. “Whatever. Pass me a pillow. I’ll take the floor.”
Mark jolts upright like a meerkat on the lookout. “What? No, you take the bed. I’ll take the floor.”
“No, I’m good. You can have the bed to yourself. I don’t mind, honestly.” You jerk your thumb towards yourself, pushing your chest out proudly. “This ‘city girl’ can handle a little bit of cold.”
There’s the muffled rustling of sheets and the padding of feet against the floor before a pair of arms coil themselves around your waist from behind you, which by the way, doesn’t help your cheeks which only grow hotter by the second. You turn to face Mark who stares at you with nothing but genuine concern.
“No way. This ‘city girl’ is taking the bed.” His arms curl tighter around you, pulling you even closer to him. “Come on. I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“No, Mark it’s—”
Your refusal is cut short when you feel your body grow weightless as your feet are lifted off of the ground.
“Oh my God! Holy shit, Mark.” Like a hapless ragdoll, you’re almost effortlessly thrown over Mark’s shoulder. You’d be impressed by how surprisingly strong he is given his skinny-looking exterior, but you find that this isn’t quite the right time to be complimenting his physical abilities just yet. Mark grunts when you writhe in his hold. “Put me down!”
“With pleasure.”
You yelp, startled when Mark nonchalantly drops you onto the bed, following suit not too long after, his face inches from yours. His arms cage in your face and you feel your head grow dizzy, intoxicated by his scent. Your heart lurches when the bed groans with all the brute force being heaved onto it.
Mark grins cheekily at you, an airy laugh leaving his lips. “Jesus, you should’ve seen your face! It was priceless.”
You stare up at him, subconsciously drinking in his beautiful features; from the hairs of his eyebrows to the flutter of his eyelashes to the rosy apples of his cheeks and right down to the dip of his cupid’s bow, you gawk at him in silence for a moment or two. You realise that it’s actually been a moment or two too long since you’ve said something by the way Mark’s smile falters and his eyes begin to roam your face with just as much intrigue.
You clear your throat, averting his keen gaze. “Yeah, alright. Haha, very funny, Mark.”
For once, Mark doesn’t have any witty comeback for you in response. In fact, the room is drop dead silent save for the mechanical whirring of the ceiling fan. Mark’s adam’s apple bobs up and down in apprehension as his eyes scan your face once more. You can’t look away from him. Your eyes are glued to his as your heart hammers in your chest, its vibrations ringing in your ears.
He makes a move to get off of you but freezes when he feels your hand wrap around his bicep, urging for him to stay as he is. Mark watches you with interest, waiting for something more, but all you can do is continue gaping at him. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, blinking up at him. You wait with baited breath as Mark licks his lips.
“What?” he whispers. “What is it you want from me?”
You inhale sharply.
Mark’s voice drops several octaves, turning almost gravelly, which is so out of character for him you nearly blanch. “Come on, I want to know. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
You mumble your words incoherently, your mind too clouded over to formulate an actual sentence.
“Speak up, pretty girl. I can’t hear you.” Mark leans into your ear, his hot breath making your hairs stand on end.
“Want you to kiss me, Mark.”
“God, you’re so cute. Stop being so cute. Say it again.”
You huff, growing impatient. “Please, Mark. Just kiss me already.”
“Holy shit.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “That's really hot.”
Mark kisses you tenderly. His lips press softly against yours, testing the waters and gauging your reaction. He tastes of the spearmint gum you gave him on the ride here and he smells like the fabric softener you always use when you go over to his place.
His hand cups your cheek, and at your hum of appreciation, he finally decides to kiss you with a little more fervour.
You’re not sure how, but you soon find yourself in Mark’s lap as he rests his back against the headboard. You chase after his lips when he pulls away and he giggles, the sound so bizarre considering the atmosphere. You don’t stay displeased for too long though, as Mark begins kissing down your jaw, which tickles, if you're being frank.
Mark’s grip on you turns bruising when you scratch at his nape, savouring the way his breath hitches. As things progress, you can’t help but wonder how this exactly happened. Sure, you’ve had those moments where the idea of being more than friends with Mark excited you, but it’s not like you dwelled on the thought often. All throughout your friendship, you’d never had any moments like this, but you’re surprised you two hadn’t done this sooner, because God, this feels amazing. Thinking back on it, there have been moments where you’d caught Mark staring a little too intensely at you and vice-versa, but you brushed it off as a common occurrence, being friends with a guy. But, you suppose, given the fact that you and Mark are making out right now, probably means that those stares meant a little more than you had first surmised.
You pull away when Mark grips the back of your neck. He pauses, his gaze finding yours.
He swallows dryly. “You okay?"
You exhale shakily, a whirlwind of thoughts consuming you. “Wait- I- Can we,” you take a breath, “can we stop?”
Immediately, Mark’s expression melts into one of distress. “Yeah, of course we can.”
“Thanks.” You nod timidly, climbing off his lap and sinking into the spot beside him. You chew on the flesh of your inner cheek, guilt washing over you. “I- I’m sorry.”
Mark’s head swivels to face you. “What? No, don’t be sorry. It’s fine.” He fiddles with his fingers. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong? I didn’t hurt you did I?”
“What? No, no, you didn’t.” You laugh reassuringly. “I just- I don’t know- I just—”
“No, it’s okay. If you want to stop, I'll stop. No explanation required.” Mark smiles at you. “But… we’re still cool, right?”
“Of course we are, dude.”
Mark snickers. “Wow, I can’t believe you just called me dude after we made out. You’re really something else, huh?”
“Hey! You should take that as a compliment.” You shove him playfully. “I don’t call just anyone dude.”
“Well then, it’s an honour. Dude.”
Your conversation dwindles into silence. You feel anxiety begin to make its way up your spine as it latches onto you, sinking its gnarly teeth into your back. What now? Can you two really go back to being just friends if that’s what you ultimately decided? The faint spinning of the fan is the only thing that nulls your worries. Cautiously, you reach for Mark’s hand beside you and thankfully, he reciprocates the gesture. You sigh happily, finding solace in the warmth radiating from his fingertips.
“Can I—no I mean—can we cuddle?” You await a response from Mark, only to be greeted by nothing. “Uh, I’m sorry. That was dumb of me. Pretend I didn’t say anything.”
You attempt to pry your fingers from Mark’s but he refuses to let you slip away. Instead, he brings your hand to his lips, placing a chaste kiss on the back of your palm. “Hey, no. Let’s cuddle. I’m down for that. I need a hug, anyway.”
It’s astounding how easy it is to get into a spooning position with Mark. And as corny as it sounds, you feel like you fit perfectly in his arms, snug against his chest. You allow yourself to relax in his embrace until you feel something digging into your thigh.
“Is that—”
“Yeah, sorry,” says Mark sheepishly. He shifts in his position, but to no avail. He just hisses in discomfort. You smother a giggle. “I’m still, uh, a little… excited?”
“My bad.”
Mark pokes your waist, fishing that repressed giggle out of you. “Dumbass.”
And as you lay there with Mark, your laughter fading as the moon rises, you can’t deny the sparks of attraction that have ignited. You’re not quite sure exactly how you feel, but you think, whatever the outcome, the two of you will be alright.
#toaster requests#nct fluff#mark fluff#mark lee#nct mark#nct#nct u#nct 127#nct dream#superm#nct smut#mark smut#nct drabbles#nct x reader#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct oneshots#nct blurbs#nct fics#nct headcanons#mark imagines#nct reactions#mark blurbs#mark drabbles#mark x reader#mark scenarios#mark oneshots#mark fics
516 notes
·
View notes
Text
I haven't been writing a lot lately because my recovery has been taking a wild turn and in lack of anyone to talk to or therapy, I'll be writing about it here! I'll put it under a cut. There are some descriptions of recovery going very wrong, and also explanations of things I was wrong about.
So since the pandemic started I've been deteriorating badly, first I've been processing trauma extensively, having intense breakdowns and gradually it turned into depression from lack of stimulation, I've been completely alone for months without speaking to, or seeing anyone. I thought it was the isolation getting to me, and decided I just need to endure that, indulge in whatever coping I could and wait for it to end. And then things got worse.
Even as normally I was seeing some very slow progress in recovery; now it was going backwards; I was having less and less ability to get anything done, I wasn't able to force myself to do my job for months, I kept getting stuck in bed for weeks, chronic pain got so bad I couldn't move on most days. And, it only kept going worse.
My breakdowns stared to be about the present instead of the past; I couldn't handle being in pain all the time. As in before I would recover from a breakdown within a day or two, now it took 4 days to a week, and the trauma episodes would last for hours, so intense I'd find myself hoping I would die during it.
And then, I started losing all mobility and this seriously freaked me out. Everything above I've already experienced before, without long term consequences, but now my body was losing function in a way that felt permanent; I could no longer move for more than few minutes, and without extensive pain. Sometimes I would try to get up and end up collapsing and screaming from how much it hurt, I would move my arm and my whole body would experience a shock of intense pain. I was scared, I no longer knew what was going on, I was suspecting something more than ptsd was wrong. I've forced myself into physical activity, trying to fight this, I tried stretching, exercising, running, punching, and every single one of these activities made it incredibly worse. I thought I had broken my body by laying down too much. I no longer felt anything but terror and dread, and kept spiralling into scenarios of my own death; it felt inevitable, I wasn't going to survive without ability to move, nobody would take care of me.
I tried out medicine that helps relaxing, it had minimal effect. Then, in desperation to check if this was all ptsd, I attempted self harm, to see if it erases the pain. It did. It lowered the pain significantly It was a big relief, even though I wasn't happy with resorting to that, at least I could move around for a while, and I was grateful for that. Times couldn't be more desperate, and the measure felt fitting. I was still in a very bad shape, and the pain was only somewhat lessened.
It was about that time someone sent me the Complex PTSD book; I had wanted it for a while and immediately went to read it. I felt some relief reading it, and I was struck with the realization that I have not felt any relief in more than a year. It also surprised me with some of the exact descriptions of my behaviour, that I didn't realize was a symptom. I thought it was necessary and smart of me to live in hiding, to avoid interaction and never connect to anyone; it kept me safe. It turns out it's a regular freeze response to trauma; I got very called out for it. It also explains that a freeze response is what people use when anything else doesn't work, and it's true! I had been fighting, fawning and perfecting myself desperately prior to realizing that absolutely nothing helps, and froze to survive. It also described that freeze types are capable of surviving prolonged isolation because their brains produce hormones that relax the body as if they're going thru a moment before death; also true for me, I've been aware my brain does that, only I get that way too often, and it only helps me marginally because I'm too used to it.
Another thing I was very wrong about was my concept of my inner critic; I thought I had already won that battle, because I did not allow any voice in my head to criticize me (my alters can drag me affectionately), and I generally didn't experience a lot of shame or guilt for what I was going thru. The book describes inner catastrophizer, which is an extention of the critic, and it causes you to spral into extremely negative scenarios of your own demise. Now that.. was happening to me every single day, I saw myself dead around every corner. But I always thought my fears about that were perfectly reasonable. I had been tortured into suicidal state as a kid and nobody cared, I barely escaped with my life from there, I was living illegally, in hiding, without a normal job or regular income, without close friends or any family, with ptsd i couldn't get diagnosed for, without ability to work due to ptsd, in a capitalistic society where being able to work is only thing between you and dying. I had, by that point, gained many skills of survival, but it still felt very reasonable to fear that I would die if I don't get better soon.
The book described people who had families, jobs, social circles, friends and community, who spiraled into deep fear of becoming homeless and dying on the street; somehow their spiraling was exactly the same as mine, and it made me realize that it was, in fact, a symptom, and not reflection of reality. Because I was spiraling even when laying in my bed or eating or sleeping, knowing I could still afford rent for months because I arranged my life to allow myself to lay down a lot. I kept fearing my parents were coming to end my life, even when I arranged my entire existence specifically to prevent this from happening. And even if I was sick and without a real job, I had in fact, survived for 5 years after running away, I wasn't getting worse at it. My spiraling into death scenarios was a symptom of being trapped within a flashback.
The book guided me to try to challenge these fears, I immediately went for it, had a breakdown, screamed "I can't" for like an hour, had additional few breakdowns afterwards, and miraculously, recovered from them in only few hours. And then, I woke up from my flashback.
I won't describe what the flashback was, because it's too gruesome and horiffic, but it was in fact, bad enough to warrant every single bit of that pain I was experiencing, and a very convoluted, complex trauma. I was waiting to be killed in that flashback. Whats concerning is, I've been trapped in that same flashbacks for more than a year. After I broke my way out of it, it felt like I woke up to being alive for the first time in years. I got out being frozen in bed.
For 5 amazing days, I was able to do whatever I wanted. Chronic pain? I didn't know her. It was absoluely exhilirating to get to move again, I was not getting tired either, I was out there making up for months of doing nothing and I was not collapsing at any point. I felt actual joy again, and hope, and being free from pain was so extremely good, that alone made me ecstatic. I was able to create, to be organized, to take care of myself, to follow a checklist, to focus, I was a Normal Person for those 5 days.
And then, predictably, I was getting back stuck in that flashbacks and my levels of terror and dread spiked again. I went to re-read the book, and it took me a few days to really figure it out again, I don't know exactly how the book works on me, I feel like it says just the right keywords to trigger me into realizations and causes breakdowns that set me free. I found myself able to stop some spiraling, but sometimes I can't, that flashback holds immense power over me and is actually mixed with 10 other near-death scenarios that are too extreme for me to process, so this will keep happening. I did break free again, and got to experience additional few days of movement and happiness; I also started working extensively with my child alter, who was until recently extremely suicidal and dangerous to work with.
I am still kinda lost in all of this, and unsure whats going on, but I do believe I wont get trapped in a flashback again for a whole year. I became so anxious and helpless due to isolation, I forgot how to fight trauma, I forgot I actually had to do it. I used to do it constantly in the beginning, but it had made me suicidal back then to face all this, so I tried to just let it heal naturally, which I believed would eventually happen; but it didn't, I got trapped and suffered without knowing how to get out. I also believed my own spiraling was a reflection of reality and not trauma, and that fueled it a lot.
It explains very eloqently in the book how inner catastrophizing comes from being massively neglected; children who are not looked after start to realize just how unprotected they are, so their own sense of danger becomes hypersensitive and starts to lock on possible dangers everywhere. This is then further aided by media that points out every possible bad thing that could happen to a person, and the child who isn't guided by adult who could actually make a reasonable distinction between real and unlikely danger, will clock it all as absolute possibilities and be on alert. It's also fueled by the line of disasters and dangers that happen to them in the context of their own home, and for me, the strongest factor was my parents constantly convincing me that I would die without them. Even though I proved this wrong, and understand they did it precisely because they knew there was a lot of survival ability in me and that's why they worked so hard to destroy it, the fact that it was brainwashed into me under circumstances of torture still makes it impossible for me to fight it.
Maybe one day I will be able to.
I'm writing this because writing things down helps to make sense of it all, and I need to find my way thru this. I also hope someone else will see themselves in what I'm describing and it will help them find a way forward. Complex ptsd is the only book I found that speaks from the point of view of a person who survived cptsd, healed from it, and had so much experience with other traumatized people they're able to draw parallels and create patterns and statistics out if it, it was that more than anything that convinced me of their words, and gave me hope. The book also warns many times of how essential it is to reduce inner critic and catastrophizer before getting other recovery work done, other therapy might only do further harm before this work is done. It was true for me.
If you wanna read this book, here's a post with the links!
#cptsd#complex ptsd#ptsd recovery#tw self harm#story of recovery#trauma#abuse recovery#trauma symptoms#chronic pain#chronic exhaustion#freeze response
164 notes
·
View notes
Text
Running Through My Dreams - A duet (l.h)
Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Fem! Reader
Summary: based on Remembering Sunday by All Time Low. A conversation with flashes of the past
Warnings: Angst. Language. Mentions of death (non graphic) Mentions of Alcohol. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language and I did not proof read this, I’m sorry)
Word count: 2k
Author’s Note: Just experimenting with sad topics and a new form of writing. Hope everyone can understand bc formatting this was a nightmare. Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨
My Materialist // wanna be part of my taglist?
How to read: Bold: Luke; Italics: Reader. Together
This might work better on mobile.
I woke up alone again in the middle of the night, it’s the third time this week.
I’ve been leaving the bed early
hoping you’ll get used to it.
I stay long enough, always leaving
after 2AM
The pillow doesn’t smell like her anymore. It hasn’t for a long time. She thinks I don’t notice
I knew you would.
But everyday I feel her pull farther away from me.
It wasn’t always like this
But I knew it would come to
this.
Still,
I needed to move on
What time is it? It can‘t be too late, it’s only past 2 AM and my head is killing me. What did I do?
The bottle near the bed should
serve as an answer
Fuck.
Where is she?
Sunday seemed so far away, but it’s only been a couple of days. You’ve been staying at his place, claiming that your apartment needed some fixing that the landlord promised to do, but that you needed to go back every morning just to make sure everything was in place.
You just never told him how early you’d be there. Making him wake up to an empty bed.
You woke up with the smell of bacon, cursing at yourself for letting sleep take over you last night. You didn’t mean to stay but what’s done is done.
Luke was standing in the kitchen, chest bare as he cooked the eggs the way you liked them.
You always knew me more
than I knew myself
“Good morning, love” He said when he saw you standing, almost hiding behind the door to the kitchen.
He smiled, and god you wished you could hate it.
“Morning,” You mumbled, clearly not in a good mood. Morning always did that to you. But Luke didn’t mind, he still smiled and placed a kiss on your cheek as you took a seat on one of the chairs.
“Do you need to go today?” He asked, placing your breakfast in front of you.
I always hated when she had to leave
You would’ve hated me more
if I stayed, even if I wanted to
Maybe it was the look in his eyes that made you weak. Those baby blues haunted you from the very start and you found yourself unable to say no to them. That’s why it was easier to leave when he slept.
“I can stay if you want”
She could’ve stayed forever.
He smiled bigger than before, pulling your chair closer to him as he kissed you softly. You melted against him as the sirens in your head went off. You couldn’t let this happen.
I could’ve told her that I loved her, I knew I did.
Do you even know what love is?
She never believed in it. She was afraid to get close, but I knew she felt it, too. How could she not?
There was something there.
Something I didn’t know was
possible
Something I felt all along.
But it’s late, or early and she hasn’t responded. Maybe
I got it all wrong
She must be there, somewhere. She might be alone. And I’m here.
You are where I want you to be
Where did she go? The girl I fell in love?
You laugh bounced through the walls as he chased you down.
“Luke!” You half cried, half laughed “Stop!”
But he only got closer, tickling your sides every time he could catch you on a corner.
It was just a game, just a moment for the two of you where you could just be yourselves. You didn’t get much of that before.
Luke smiled at the sound of your giggles, feeling as if the melody of them could very much be the soundtrack of his own happiness. He felt a bolt of electricity with every light touch, gracing his fingers carefully upon your skin to make sure he’s not hurting you. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you.
But did I ever? Maybe without knowing.
Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, leaving a scorching trail as his movements slowed down. The tickles now became caresses as you let your body rest against a wall, sighing softly when you felt his fingers trail up your sides.
The goosebumps started to appear the moment you felt his breath near your lips. His head hung low, letting his forehead rest against yours as you looked into his eyes.
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. You knew by just a look where this was going and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want to let it happen.
Your hands flew to the back of his head as you pulled him into you, letting your lips capture his in a needed kiss.
You parted your lips when you felt his grip tighten on your waist, letting him deepen the kiss as he deem fit and making his tongue tangle with yours as he swallowed your moans into his mouth.
His body was against yours, pressing it to the wall and making you feel all of him as he covered your body completely. Never once letting your lips go until you gasped for air.
The look in both your eyes was clear as lust consumed your bodies. You pulled on his hand, smiling as you led him into the bedroom.
It was beautiful at the start
At the start we didn’t know
I should go to her, tell her I love her and that I’m sorry for anything I might’ve done.
You always took the blame
where there wasn’t one.
With the memories still playing inside his head, Luke got up from his place on the bed, instantly falling to the floor with his knees scraping against the carpet.
He didn’t know why his legs failed him when he tried to reach you, understanding that you were far away from where you were supposed to be.
She should be here. I need her here.
Luke got dressed as soon as he could. He knew he was too intoxicated to drive, he didn’t want to put anyone in danger; so he decided to walk.
He took his phone with him, smiling slightly when he noticed a missed call from you.
Why aren’t you picking up? Don’t you want to see me?
You were the only one who
could see me
I’m coming. I’ll find you. I know it’s not
It is
Too late
Your apartment building was just a few miles away, but Luke’s thoughts ran faster than he could. In his head he knew what to say once he saw you, once he made sure you were okay.
He had to tell you that he loved you, that he wouldn’t run away. He will give you all the time you need but, please.
Come back to me
The buttons all seemed the same to him, the names on the tags were too faded to even try and read them. But he knew your place by heart.
The second button to the left, just under the one who got a spot of red paint on it. It was the only apartment you could afford when you moved, but you loved it nonetheless.
He called, and called, and called, and called.
But the more he pressed the button, the more hopeless he felt.
Are you there? Can you hear me? I’m here. I’m here and I’m not leaving, not unless you want me to.
I don’t want to, but you will
Desperate, he starts pressing the buttons of your neighbors, hoping maybe one of them would let him in.
“I will call the police” Your upstairs neighbor said.
“Please,” Luke begged “I just need to speak with Y/N”
“Who?”
The man hung up. Luke tried another button.
“Anne?” A lady spoke.
Luke sighed “No, but I need to get into the building. My girlfriend needs me and it’s starting to rain, could you let me in, please?”
“Oh, sure, honey” The sweet lady said, opening the door for him.
Luke thanked the careless woman as he entered the building just before the few droplets of water fell upon his jacket.
He got up the stairs, skipping two steps as he tried to reach you as soon as possible. To hell with his dizzy head just as long as you were safe.
“Y/N?” He called, banging on your door loud enough to wake you up, but not too loud to disturb your neighbors.
I know you’re there
I know you’re here
“Y/N! Please let me in!”
He kept on banging, each one louder than the last one. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his concern grew with every second you were not answering the door.
It’s been days since he’s seen you. Days since you left after Sunday. Days since he’s been sober because you ignored him after telling him it was over, without any explanation as to why.
I’m not going to
Give up
I’m not going to answer
I have to tell her that I love her.
I wish I could tell you why
She’s my dream
A nightmare, perhaps
I don’t want to
You have to
Wake up
“Is there anything I can help you with?” A couple dressed in robes stood outside their door.
Luke stared at your neighbors for a while before he could respond. He dried the tears off his face before saying.
“My girlfriend, she hasn’t been answering her phone-“ He didn’t care that his voice sounded broken when his whole spirit was shattered “I- I mean, I just want to make sure that she’s okay because I need to talk to her. Have you seen her?”
The couple looked at each other, the man sighed.
“Are you sure you got the right door, son?” He asked.
Luke furrowed his brows, checking the number placed at the door one more before nodding.
“Oh, dear” The woman said emphatically “The lady that lived there moved”
“What?”
“She's been moving her stuff for days now, but I think tonight she made the big move and took off. She even left us the key for the landlord when he came” The woman signaled her husband and he disappeared into their home for a few seconds before appearing again with the key in hands “I’m so sorry, darling”
Luke shook his head. This was not possible, you couldn’t be….
Gone
“Do you want to check for yourself?” The man asked, handing Luke the key to your apartment.
He thanked the couple and apologized for the disturbance.
This can’t be true.
But what if it is?
She would’ve told me
I never told you how I felt
And now it’s
It can't be
Too late
Luke opened the door to your apartment, holding back a breath as he realized it was completely bare.
All your stuff were not there anymore. Not a picture or furniture that could prove your existence, not even a ghost that could testify that someone lived there once. A someone that he had loved.
He walked to the middle of your small living room, letting his eyes scan for anything that you might’ve left behind. Something that he could hold on to so he knows you’ll be back, or at least something that could tell him where you went.
The rain fell against the bare window, letting the shadows of the droplets racing through the glass plaster against the wooden floor, mirroring Luke’s tears as he realized that
I’m not coming back
Not like you expect me to
Why did she leave?
I thought it was for the best
But I regretted it the
moment I stepped into the
car
She could’ve come to me
I was coming back to you
I called and you didn’t
answer. So I tried again.
I swear i didn’t see that truck
coming my way.
Y/N
It all happened so fast
Y/N….
I’m not coming back
No….
I was terrified. But then
I was
I want to be
With you
Luke
I can’t understand
I did something so terrible
Could you…
Forgive me
I tried to find home when
home is where you are.
Now I’m in the clouds
I just need to know that you’re
I’m
Okay
I’ll be with you
But you won’t see me
I wished I could tell you how much I loved you
You already did
“Luke?”
The blonde man jumped at the sound of Ashton’s voice. He was standing in the middle of the field, letting the rain tower over him as he woke up from his nightmare.
It’s been three days since he stood in your apartment. Three days since he got the call from the hospital. Three days of unstoppable rain and grey clouds that seemed to be following him since the day he lost you.
Now, he stood in a black suit, letting his eyes wander over the carved letters of your name once again.
“Are you okay? Is there something you want to do? Something we can do?”
He stood still.
“I really thought I would marry her”
His band mates stood right by his side this whole time, never letting him out of sight. Letting their hearts break with him.
Calum placed a hand on his shoulder.
“She loved you, Luke. She would’ve want you to keep going”
Luke smiled sadly, “I always loved her more”
After a few minutes, Luke asked them to leave him alone with you to say goodbye.
He kneeled in front of the marble that laid on the ground, completely damped from all the rain, and smiled softly.
“I might never understand why you did it, why you ran, why they took you away from me far too soon when your car was headed back here… But, I know you were scared and I don’t blame you for that, you were always braver than me, even when you were afraid. You’ll have a lot to explain when we meet again, love, and I promise I won’t let you go when that happens. But until then, I’ll see you Sunday”
I’ll be here.
I love you
*
*
Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @matchacal @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @major5sosstan @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimesos @girlwhosimps @wontlastimokwiththat @ttinahood @kingxnichole @givebuckyhisplumsnow @hufflehemm @wildflower98
#luke hemmings#5 seconds of summer#5sos#luke hemmings angst#luke hemmings fanfic#luke hemmings fanfiction#luke hemmings imagine#suchalonelysunflower#running through my dreams#5sos luke#luke 5sos#luke 5 seconds of summer#5 seconds of summer luke#5sos fanfiction#5sos writing#5sos imagine#5sos fic#5 seconds of summer fic#5 seconds of summer fanfiction#5 seconds of summer imagine#all time low#remembering Sunday#luke robert hemmings#luke x reader#luke x you#5sos angst#luke angst#songfic
81 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mystery Girl
For the cute @multifandomfix 💝🌹
Hope you will like this gift!
"No, Gil! Don't tell me you agreed to this!"
"Sorry, Malcolm, but those are the orders of the hierarchy. Besides, having backup can't hurt you!"
The profiler shook his head, annoyed: he didn't need this!
Bright repeated to anyone who would listen that he preferred to profile criminals alone. Why pair him up with a stranger?
Grumbling, the young man nervously ran a hand through his hair. The police didn't want to let him work properly.
JT, one of his friends, patted him on the shoulder and said jokingly:
"Congratulations, Malcolm. You're about to discover an unknown concept: teamwork!
"Very funny, JT."
Dani, his colleague and best friend, tried to make him smile.
"Don't worry: I'm sure you'll be fine. You might even get along with your new partner!"
Malcolm rolled his eyes.
"I think you're very optimistic, Dani. They're going to send me some pimply, snooty kid from the best police academy who's more likely to get in my way than help me! So, sorry, but I'm not enthusiastic!"
"What do you know? You've never met them!"
At the same time, Gil joined them.
"Bright, your new partner is waiting for you in the office! Try to hide your bad mood!"
Letting out a long sigh of annoyance, Malcolm headed for the room, ranting in anticipation of this unwelcome partner.
"I hope Malcolm doesn't get upset!" muttered JT.
"The way he's in a bad mood, it's not looking good!" whispered Dani.
"Don't worry, both of you. When Malcolm meets our new profiler, I bet he will be different!"
Meanwhile, Bright walked into the room, expecting to run into an arrogant young graduate who would have already criticized his work to no avail without knowing a single detail about the case. Instead, he came across a lovely young woman who was reading the report of the initial investigations.
Forgetting his sour mood, Bright tried to make a good impression on the newcomer.
Quickly combing his hair and checking his breath, he cleared his throat, attracting the attention of the lady who looked up from her reading.
"Hello," she replied.
Malcolm noticed that she had a lovely voice. Charming must have been her middle name.
Smiling kindly, he introduced himself:
"Hello, you must be the new profiler. I'm..."
The young woman interrupted him with an amused smile.
"I know who you are, Malcolm Bright. I've heard a lot about you."
"Yes, I suppose you've heard that I'm crazy, insufferable, dangerous, and the spawn of a terrible serial killer. Don't bother with that: I hear it all day long!"
Placing the file back on the table, the young woman continued:
"Yes, I've heard that, but those aren't the only things I've heard. I understand that you are intelligent, perceptive, cultured, observant, and stubborn! All in all, an interesting person to work with!"
Bright was surprised!
"Wait, does that mean you asked your superiors to come and work with me?"
"Yes, I did. And from what I can see, you fit the description well: your clothing shows a comfortable lifestyle. I would say that you are very well off financially.
On the other hand, the paleness of your complexion and the dark circles appearing under your beautiful brown eyes indicate a poor sleep pattern, which can lead to one of two things.
Either you are an incorrigible party animal, or you are a man whose mind is always racing and troubled by traumatic memories. In your case, I'd go for the second hypothesis. You are a more complex person than most people want to believe."
Crossing her arms, she asked defiantly, a smile on her face:
"Now, Mr Bright, your turn: what can you deduce about me? Apart from the fact that I'm not a pimply little pretentious graduate!"
Malcolm winced: she had heard him!
"I assure you I had no idea who you were. Otherwise, I would never have allowed myself to say such things!"
"Judging without even knowing the people? Big mistake for a brilliant profiler like you, Malcolm!" laughed the young woman.
"Even the best make mistakes."
"If you can give me as much correct information as possible, I'll give you my name. If not, I'll let you search all day. Are you up to the challenge?"
"Challenge accepted. Well, let's see: who are you, mysterious miss?"
He circled the young woman, looking for the slightest detail that might give him information.
After a few minutes of observation, he gave his conclusions:
"From the look of your clothing, you are in a decent financial position. You are not a multi-millionaire, but you make a good living. You like simple, comfortable styles, probably because you like to look elegant and efficient at the same time.
Your posture and stature tell me that you are an athlete. I'd say you've done quite a bit of dancing, but your muscularity shows that you're a martial artist. Am I right?"
"I have a black belt in karate and judo, and I practice taekwondo, as well as ju-jitsu and Muay Thai. And I did a lot of dancing when I was younger."
"Haha! I was right. Well, as for the rest, I'd say you have an excellent photographic memory: you put that file down exactly where you took it. You are also a brilliant observer because you have deduced details of my life just by looking at me.
I suppose you are an artist in your spare time. I saw in your bag a sketchbook and a box of pencils. Both are well placed, which betrays your meticulous side.
Finally, I would say that you are a hard-working, kind and mischievous person. Your superiors must appreciate you enough to accept your request to come here. So, what do you say?"
Amused, the young woman clapped slowly.
"Well done, Malcolm Bright. You've lived up to your reputation. Everything you have deduced is correct."
"You will find me delighted. And now, to finish the introductions properly, may I know your name?"
"Of course: my name is (Y/N) (L/N), a certified FBI profiler."
"Pleased to meet you, Miss (Y/N) (L/N). Something tells me we'll work well together."
"That's what I hope."
Hiding behind the door, Gil, JT and Dani were relieved to see that Malcolm and (Y/N) seemed to be getting along well. Now, let's hope that this duo can be effective against the criminals that have New Yorkers on edge.
A few months later.
Sitting on a bench, Malcolm and (Y/N) enjoyed a hot chocolate while enjoying a beautiful autumn day. The two profilers wanted to have a quiet moment, away from the eyes of their colleagues and Malcolm's family!
"Are you going to tell them the truth about us, or are you going to let them stew for a while longer?" the young woman asked.
The profiler smiled mischievously.
"I think I'll let them work their brains out for a few days before I tell them everything. Just for the fun of seeing their faces when they learn the truth!"
"I didn't know you were such a tease!" joked (Y/N).
For all answers, Malcolm took the young woman's hand in his and placed a kiss on it.
"I'm a man full of surprises, my dear. Just like you!"
"You sure didn't expect me to kiss you first!"
Malcolm pretended to be offended.
"But I thought of it first!"
"Oh, did you?"
"Certainly. Let me prove it!"
The profiler leaned over and kissed his girlfriend on the lips.
Unfortunately, this sweet moment was interrupted by a ringing mobile phone.
"I think you should pick up the phone!" the young woman pointed out.
Grumbling, Malcolm picked up his mobile phone and picked it up:
"Hello?"
**"Hello, big brother!"**
"Good afternoon, Ainsley. To what do I owe this call?" the profiler asked.
**"I just wanted to let you know that Mum's inviting us to dinner at the house tonight. She's counting on your presence. Is that so?"** asked the reporter.
"I'll be there. It's not like I have a choice!" quipped Malcolm.
**"I'll take that as a yes... Oh, by the way, she'd like you to invite your mystery girlfriend!"**
At these words, the two lovers looked at each other in amazement: would Jessica know?
Controlling his stress, Malcolm replied:
"I don't know what she means, but I don't have a girlfriend!"
**"Oh yeah? Well then, you can tell me who the pretty lady you just kissed lovingly is!"**
Looking around him, the profiler spotted his little sister standing at the other end of the park and waving at him, a smirk on her face.
A little annoyed, Malcolm asked:
"Is your favourite pastime spying on me?"
"I admit it's very distracting. But I promise I won't tell Mum. I'll leave the great honour of making the introductions to you."
"I'm sure you'll be glad to, dear little sister."
"See you tonight, big brother. And give my regards to your lady of heart!"
When the conversation was over, (Y/N) smiled:
"It seems that someone has found out..."
"And unfortunately, it is my sister."
(Y/N) kissed her boyfriend on the cheek.
"Honey, I can't be your mystery girl forever anyway. They're going to have to know that!"
Malcolm smiled.
"I have to admit, you're right. In any case, my love for you will never be a mystery again."
Now that their secret love affair gets revealed, Malcolm and (Y/N) will have more time to unsolve differents mysteries...
Thanks for reading!
I hope you enjoyed the story!
Please don’t hesitate to request me a story and see you soon!
Take care! 😍🥰😘
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
A/N: Happy Halloween kids! (Because I feel very old lol). So this imagine was requested by the lovely @atbucud who is probably the best beta reader/editor/fan/person I’ve ever known.
This imagine is going to be like the premise, and at the end you’ll have a {Love choice} and get to pick an ending. Endings will be linked and posted next week on Halloween! Hope you like it! Also let me know if this format is annoying/troublesome. I like to think it’s more interactive, but if most of y’all find it a hassle then it’s not worth it.
Oh, and Damian Wayne is 18 in this.
* First off, you’re rollin’ with some pretty rich kids, so you while it’s possible you go to some Jank Halloween party at someone’s house
* You’re probably going to a bougie charity gala that “the Wayne” foundation puts on every year
* “Let’s draw” Stephanie states triumphantly, placing a large glass bowl full of torn pieces of paper in the table in the middle of the living room at Wayne manor.
* Jason only raises an eyebrow, turning his attention back to his phone
* “Draw for what?” You ask, notching everyone’s disinterest
* “Costumes for the gala of course” Stephanie says it’s like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
* Damian sputters
* “Why would anyone do that?”
* “Because it would be funny” she grins, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes
* Tim flashes her a look
* “There’s no way any of us are going along with whatever crazy costumes you’ve put in there”
* Besides it’s already bad enough that they even have to go at all
* Jason would rather watch Dick clip his toenails
* Damian just wants to spend the night with Titus and watch movies with you
* Tim was hoping to go to his favorite local coffee shop’s Halloween party
* Dick would rather go to the block party his friend invited him to
* Cass just wants to stay home and pass out candy
* Barbara’s smart enough to be “out of town”
* And you’re just happy to be here tbh
* Stephanie’s not deterred by their lack of enthusiasm though, a mischievous smile curling onto her face.
* Her hand are suddenly resting on your shoulders, her face pressed against your hair
* “Aw, that’s too bad. I was really excited to see what costume our lovely (y/n) would pull out.”
* She’s feigning despair, but as soon as the words tumble out it’s like all five of their ears perk up.
* “Out of curiosity,” Tim starts, setting down his laptop. “What are some costumes in there?”
* You aren’t facing her but you can picture the mischievous glint in her eyes.
* She’s got them now.
* “Oh you know, the usual: Wonder Woman, cat woman, Zatanna’s costume-“
* You shrug, so far those seem pretty tame. The bat family seems to reflect your opinion, visibly deflating.
* Jason will be honest, you in a Wonder Woman costume does sound pretty sexy
* But it’s not exactly taboo, if he hung around you long enough he’d get to see you in it eventually.
* Dick and Cassie think you would look pretty cute in Zatanna’s costume, something about that magicians outfit hugging your form just seems right.
* But like Jason, they think they’ll see you in something similar eventually. No point in going along with Stephanie’s antics.
* Damian thinks it might be kind of nice if you were Wonder Woman, and he was Superman, that way you could both match
* But the chances of you both drawing those exact options are low. He would rather just take his chances and ask you if you would want to match.
* Tim’s bright red at the thought of you on a car woman outfit, the tight suit leaves little to the imagination
* But he’s oddly possessive and he doesn’t want anyone else to see you like that.
* So basically it looks like a bust so far
* “- and robin, nightwing, red hood, red robin, and batgirl of course.”
* All five of their heads pop back up, Stephanie grins
* Got ‘em
* The thought of you in their costume is bewitching
* “I mean it only makes sense, they’re the costumes we have in house after all”
* You know it makes sense, and it’s practical, but their collective gaze makes you blush and look away.
* But if you’re being honest there’s a certain someone you want to see in a certain costume too.
* “I guess it takes the pressure off of choosing” Jason grumbles
* “It might be funny.” Cass shrugs, but you catch the slight blush on her face
* So you all sit in a circle the bowl at the center.
* Alfred enters with a tray full of drinks and snacks, takes one look at the seven of you, and promptly walks back out.
* He’ll just..... come back later
* “Shortest stick draws last” Stephanie says.
* Which is coincidently you.
* Jason gets to go first
* “I got-Clark Kent?” He frowns, it’s not the worst, but he’s confused. Does this mean he’s supposed to be Superman?
* “Oh, I put that in for fun, easy costume, just need glasses and a white shirt”
* Jason sighs, well it could be worse
* “Batman in a recession?” Dicks eyebrows are threaded together
* Jason holds back a laugh, he could be Dick.
* “What the hell does that mean Steph?”
* Stephanie shrugs
* “Like you know, instead of a bat mobile you have a Prius, and instead of those bat-erangs you have like, knives idk get creative”
* Duck huffs, you better get robin after this
* “Raven” Cass says. Praying no one will notice that her piece of paper says “the penguin”
* To her relief everyone passes right over her, she crsuhes the slip of my paper in her hand, and breathes a sigh of relief
* Tim spends several minutes shuffling his hand around in the bowl
* “Tim just pick one!”
* “I’ll pick one when I’m damn ready, I’m not getting Wonder Woman dammit!”
* The moods pretty tense, so you say-
* “Idk I think you would make a cute Wonder Woman Tim!”
* Cue Tim.exe failing to work, his hand shooting out of the bowl
* “Catwoman, well, I guess cat boy in your case” Stephanie reads off the paper from his hand and Tim only blushes darker
* Damian’s hand shoot into the bowl, pulling out a scrap
* “A tennis player” he reads in a deadpan voice before scowling. “Brown that isn’t even a superhero”
* “You watch Serena Williams win another championship and then tell me what she does isn’t a superpower.”
* Stephanie’s hand dips into the bowl
* “Dolly Parton.” Stephanie shrugs, she pit it in because she thought it would be funny if one of the boys got it, but she actually pretty pleased
* Stephanie’s sure she can make a pretty hot Dolly Parton
* All at once their eyes turn to you.
* There’s still a handful of scraps in the bowl, but you feel a bit of pressure under their gazes.
* You look down at your hand.
* “A cheerleader for your favorite superhero?”
* Stephanie had put that one in as a joke too, imagining Damian with clip on ponytails and Pom poms.
* “Yeah, just like it sounds. You get to pick which superhero you’re rooting for” she grins, this should be pretty interesting
* “So who will you go as?”
* You gulp, to be honest there’s only one person you’re really rooting for
{Love Choice}
Who’s the number one hero in your heart?
Dick
Jason
Tim
Cassie
Damian
Surprise 1!
Surprise 2!
I like marvel better
A/N: on Halloween next week you’ll be able to pick which ending/character you want! I’ll add the links in to each choice for the imagine. This is not a voting situation. They’ll all be written (probably)
#batman imagine#batman comics#bat fam imagine#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne fanfiction#Batman Headcanon#jason todd imagines#jason todd fanfiction#dick grayson headcanon#dick grayson fanfiction#damian wayne fanfiction#older!damian wayne#damian wayne headcanon#cassandra cain x reader#stephanie brown imagine#stephanie brown x reader#dc comics imagine#superhero--imagines#jason todd imagine#jason todd x reader#dc comics#batman imagines#red hood imagine#superhero imagines#dick grayson x reader#red hood x reader
304 notes
·
View notes
Text
目次【もくじ】 ・ Table of Contents
Here’s the one and only way to safely navigate this blog!
I’ll be updating this table of contents as I add things to the blog, and make it as clear and understandable as possible so no one has to go through the thousands of pages of kanji just to find one particular post.
On browser, the search bar at the top seems to only work by pressing the ‘Enter’ key and not by clicking on the little magnifying glass next to it. Under the search bar there are little icons that link to all kanji cards (sun), all vocabulary lists (star), all grammar lessons (moon) and my diary / study log posts (cloud).
About me
Bibliography
Kanji
I’ve ordered all kanji by levels, and in each level by lessons in my kanji books and on WaniKani. Each kanji on each page links to a kanji card. The kanji cards first show the meaning and pronunciation as I first learn them on WaniKani, and under cut I’ll put some more info on them like radicals making up the kanji, different readings, other meanings etc... The More Kanji! post lists kanji that were not in the JLPT lists. They are ordered by frequency and I’ll be adding to this list as I study.
All kanji lists should look fine on both browser and mobile (apart for a few little things that I’m not sure how to fix).
I’m currently having troubles with the radicals’ list as not all of them are showing properly, I’ll upload it when I find a way to fix this.
Radicals (coming soon)
JLPT N5
JLPT N4
JLPT N3 Pt.1
JLPT N3 Pt.2
JLPT N2 Pt.1
JLPT N2 Pt.2
JLPT N1 Pt.1
JLPT N1 Pt.2
JLPT N1 Pt.3
JLPT N1 Pt.4
JLPT N1 Pt.5
JLPT N1 Pt.6
JLPT N1 Pt.7
More Kanji!
Vocabulary
I’ll be creating lists as I’m studying. Most of these lists will be linked to the grammar lessons. They are not meant to be learnt by heart (as this isn’t useful at all for learning a language); personally I’ll be using them as memo to go back to when I’m looking for a specific word.
Countries
Specialties
Occupations
Numbers
Adjectives
Shops
Hours
Facilities
Location
Means of transportation
Outings
Temporal expressions
One week
Frequency
Verbs
Holidays and Travels - Places
Holidays and Travels - Verbs
Holidays and Travels - Adjectives
Months
Days of the month
Year
Seasons
Weather
Family
Dwelling
Hobbies
Clothes and Materials
Colors and Patterns
Leisure, Travels, Vacations
Accommodations
Library, Dormitory
Japanese Lessons
I’ll be reviewing the books I used when studying at university (Parlons Japonais), the lessons will contain grammar points, vocabulary and some personal practice (which means there can be mistakes, please feel free to point them out if something sounds strange / isn’t right). I’ll use almost exclusively Japanese in these posts.
Lesson 1
Lesson 2
Lesson 3
Lesson 4
Lesson 5
Lesson 6
Lesson 7
Lesson 8
Lesson 9
Lesson 10
Manga
All the manga I read in Japanese, I’ll be listing all the vocabulary I don’t know in them, hopefully these lists will get shorter as I keep studying! (little warning: most of them are going to be BL (yaoi), since they’re almost the only ones I have in Japanese.)
舌先に夜明けの味 - 上田アキ
#japanese#japanese study#japan#JLPT#language study#studyblr#studyblog#langlr#language#learn japanese#kanji#vocabulary#table of contents#contents
177 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
