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warmau · 3 years

Text

"i don't even like bugs."

jaemin shrugs as he shows his intern pass to the security of the front gates of the botanical garden

he mentions that you're accompanying him today as a visitor and you smile at the guard who pays you two half a gaze

"well i mean - they're butterflies not like cockroaches or anything so have some optimism?"

you don't argue, among your group of friends jaemin is kind of the symbol of optimism. sometimes it's misguided - like now - but you don't want to put a damper on his mood

after all, he's actually here to do a job

you are here on a summer assignment you have to complete for a photography elective you added to your uni program for the next semester

"nature photography" was the highlight of the project, everyone had been emailed a subject to take pictures of while off from school

you had expected maybe the beach, or flowers, or even tourists walking around in floppy hats

when you'd opened the professor's email and saw "butterflies" you had not been thrilled

but you were lucky enough to know that jaemin had scored his current internship at the botanical gardens, and while he was working with his weirdly favorite thing in the world - fungi

he could also get you access to the butterfly garden, a large indoor space for the various breeds of butterflies from around the world, before it officially opened to the public

"the pavilion is over there, i think renjun will be able to let you in."

jaemin says, pointing down a hill lined by pretty bushes that leads to a glass structure at the bottom

you turn to ask if he wants to meet for lunch, but he's already jogging in the opposite direction

you sigh, fishing your camera out of your bag - which is something you've borrowed from your parents because 'iphone photos are not allowed'

they're just butterflies like jaemin said, they're like...cute bugs.

you tell yourself as you get closer, turning the camera on and then coming to a pause in front of the glass doors that have a clear padlock on them

you loop around and try to find 'renjun' - but no one is in sight

secretly a little relieved that you don't have to go inside right away, you try to find a part of the glass structure where you can possibly get a nice shot of some of the butterflies from outside

a lot of the vines and flowers get in the way, so you struggle until finally, you find a spot that's open and peers right into the middle of the enclosed garden

you can see the butterflies, little splashes of colors that fly past you - magnificent oranges, reds, and blues

you admit they're pretty

but they're even prettier because they're not near you

and then something - no someone - comes into your frame

his narrow shoulders are engulfed by an oversized plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up by the elbows.

over the shirt is a gardening apron and on his hands are a pair of worn-out gloves

his profile is hidden by the dark hair that falls in a curtain and ends in a tickle at his jawline.

one, bright streak of bleach blonde runs through the black.

he reaches out to touch a half-bloomed flower and you watch as the butterflies float on by him

you nearly drop the camera when he turns and locks his gaze with your own

is that renjun? if so im going to kill jaemin! he didn't tell me he was so infuriatingly pretty!

without knowing how to talk to him through the glass, and because the words disintegrate in your mouth, you point to the camera

"jaemin's friend?"

oh, you can hear through the glass

"ye-yeah!"

"one second."

the sound of a click and some scuttling turns your attention toward where the door to the garden opens for a swift second, just enough for renjun to step through, before it closes again

probably to make sure none of the butterflies get out

you grip your camera and when renjun doesn't move, you make the small trip over to him

"jaemin said you're here for a project."

renjun speaks and his voice is softer when it isn't muffled through glass

"for my photography class in the fall, my subject is butterflies."

"what kind?"

your eyes get a little wider with confusion

"what kind?" you parrot

renjun's neutral expression doesn't change

"what kind of butterflies? there are over seventeen thousand species of butterflies - we might not have the species you are looking for."

"i-" you stammer, wondering for a split second if renjun is joking around, "there isn't a specific species it's just....all of them?"

renjun tilts his head as if that notion doesn't really make sense to him, but shrugs and turns toward the door again

"im going to open it quickly so just follow me."

you make a sound of agreement, but when renjun pulls the handle and steps inside.....and you can't move.

the door closes behind him with a sound that makes you jump and renjun turns to stare at you through the glass with a furrowed brow

"what are you doing?"

he doesn't bother opening the door again and you shake your head as a shiver runs through your shoulders

"a-actually is it ok if i stay out here?"

"i thought you needed to take photos?"

"i can take them from here - this lens is r-really good."

renjun doesn't seem to be buying your excuse, but he checks his watch and nods, before disappearing back into the middle of the indoor garden

you take a second to try and figure out what happened - am i scared of going inside? is it the butterflies or is it renjun?

you decide it's the butterflies.

renjun's just a boy - you aren't scared of that, but the thought of being somewhere covered with bugs

pretty bugs or not

is kind of ..... scary.

you pick your camera back up and circle back to your original spot

although renjun is nowhere in the focus, you are delighted to see some butterflies have come to nestle among the plants in view

you bring up the camera and take some shots

one butterfly is sitting directly on the leaves - big grayish, blue wings spread open and engulfed in the sunlight that shines through the glass

you zoom in on it, capturing the full expanse of the wings that stand out on the green

you get so invested you hardly notice the door open up again and then a voice speaks from behind your shoulder

"it's a pseudozizeeria maha."

you don't turn around and just stare at the butterfly still

"a wha- what?"

"a pale grass blue. they're native to south asia but are really common here too. they were first discovered by vincenz kollar, an austrian entomologist."

the sentence nearly makes you dizzy, but you thank renjun for the information

not seeing the small shy smile that casts over his lips when you do

you want to turn and show him the shot you took, but he's already stepping past you to the other side of the pavilion

the time sort of slips away from you before you can check it again and you only leave when jaemin comes jogging down from the greenery to whisk you off for lunch

"should we invite ren-"

you start, but jaemin is already twinkling eyes and nonstop talking about all the fun fungi he's spent his day with.

when you're back home you start to look through the photos you took

most of them aren't super great and the shine of the sun reflects on the glass

you know the only way you're going to get a perfect shot (or at least an acceptable one for this dumb summer project) is if you go inside the actual butterfly garden

sighing, you click to the last shot and are surprised to see that in the far left corner you see renjun's hand - gloved and in the palm of it is a small butterfly that has landed just in time for your shutter to go off

the rest of renjun is out of focus so you can't even see his, very pretty, face

isn't it weird, that he can be around them so easily and im so scared?

you zoom in a bit and wonder how nice it would have been to get a clear photo of the moment. that would be something you could definitely submit to your professor.

before any more thoughts of renjun can float through your mind, your phone pings and you look to see jaemin's contact name

did you get your shot? you can come with me on my next shift if you want to take more photos

you type back a reply before you can even think of it in your head

really? then I'll tag along :) want to take some more photos

jaemin confirms and then sends another paragraph talking about mushrooms and leaves and plants

and you giggle because he's funny and passionate, and also

guess i might see renjun again?

it's hotter than you can put into words the next time you show up at the butterfly garden

you're standing outside in the absolute sweltering heat and maybe the thought of possible colder temperatures inside the pavilion are tempting

plus - renjun is in there - he had waved at you when he saw you standing outside again

this time his apron thrown over a short sleeve shirt and some long jeans

he had motioned toward the door but you had just played off that you were ok outside. burning alive or whatever.

you found the same spot as before, wiping the sweat from your forehead before lifting the camera up in hopes of catching a good picture

but all you see through the lens was renjun, who'd taken the time to roll up the sleeves of his shirt and had seemingly abandoned the heavy apron somewhere inside

his longer hair had been clipped back and he was reaching down to heave a bag of soil up and over his shoulder

oh my god. oh my god. oh my god.

you are caught between taking a photo and just aiming your lens somewhere else out of embarrassment

either way, renjun doesn't seem to notice and continues working, saving you from the horror that would be seeing him turn and stare back at you

but this somehow goes on for the entire time you're there

you go to snap a photo, but renjun is somewhere in the frame

it must just be bad luck and timing

but by the time you're sitting at the garden's cafe with jaemin after his shift and you're going through your photos

all of them have renjun in them somehow

"woah i thought your project was butterflies not huang renjun's?"

jaemin jokes, sipping his iced coffee with an overly excited wiggle of his eyebrows

"shuttup - i just....it's because i am taking them from the outside, i need to figure out a way to get inside and just take the photo and be done with it!"

jaemin outstretches his hand

"gimmie your camera, ill go take one"

you snatch the camera off the table and vehemently shake your head

"no. the last time i trusted you with something expensive, you broke it in the first five minutes."

"hey! i thought ipads were waterproof nowadays like technology really hasn't come that far?"

you roll your eyes in response, to which jaemin sticks out his tongue and then claps his hands together in revelation

"why not ask renjun to take the photo?"

"because i don't know him that we-"

with a dismissive wave of his hand jaemin cuts you off

"he's not a stranger - i know him! if i know him, you know him. plus renjun is super careful and responsible - he's my age and ive already heard some of the directors talking about how they'd hire him as more than an intern if he wasn't still in university!"

wow, i mean i always got the impression he was mature, but...

"c'mon, i bet he'll say yes too! he's really nice!"

finally agreeing and promising jaemin you'll ask renjun when you come back to the garden again

you pretend the nervous feeling in your stomach is just because you don't know renjun that well

not because you also happen to think he's breathtaking to look at - and that it's going to be hell trying to explain to someone who knows so much about insects that you're too scared to go inside and take a measly little photo of them

you find yourself at home, with your laptop open, googling species of butterflies because you think you should at least pick one and ask renjun if he can possibly take a photo of that one

maybe your effort will make the conversation easier

maybe he'll like that i know the latin name for a - what was it? gonepteryx cleopatra?

of course, the next time jaemin brings you along - and abandons you with a thumbs up for his mushrooms and fungi - you are frozen still at the entrance of the butterfly garden

like a broken machine - you just re-read the sign over and over again - announcing that the garden will be finally open to the public in a week

and you nearly short circuit when someone clears their throat behind you

turning around, it's of course renjun, and he's giving you a weird look that is already making this whole situation bad

"h-hey renjun-"

"do you want to go inside with me today?"

you swallow and think you should really just suck it up and go inside. the butterflies aren't going to sting, bite, or eat you - but

"a-actually i wanted to ask you does the garden have any.....any um....gonep- um whats the word gonepetry? gonepetri? um-"

without a beat renjun finishes the sentence for you

"gonepteryx cleopatra's? no, those butterflies favor the mediterranean so getting them here is hard."

"right...well actually i was wondering"

renjun blinks

"oh and you can call them cleopatra's if you want. but unfortunately no, i don't have any in the garden."

god ok, how do i pivot this conversation...

"oh that's cute, um actually i also have a question-"

he waits expectingly and for some odd reason as the second's tick by he gets cuter and you get quieter and it is just a huge mess

and you think you should just book it and let renjun think you're a weirdo

when you finally lift up your camera and take a breath

"do you think you could take the photo of a butterfly for me?"

his brown eyes widen

"oh - like the photo for your project?"

"y-yeah. it's just......im really scared to go in there...bugs are not my thing. i know it's pathetic and they're just butterflies but-"

you look down and the sun and renjun's gaze are getting too heavy to handle

"but i just don't know if i can even focus when there are so many flying around....does that make sense?"

the beat of silence that follows is almost miserable but renjun just points behind him and says

"follow me."

the next thing you know you are trying to keep up with him as he walks past the butterfly garden and down a path hugged by greenery

it's way past where you've ever been and you ask renjun where he's going

only for him to insist you hurry up a little bit

before you know it you are both standing in front of a large, open iron gate, and behind it are rows and rows and rows of rose bushes

they range in color and size and the smell that permeates the air is so lovely you suddenly feel like you're in a fairytale

renjun leans closely to inspect a couple and then stops in front of a bush adorned in the brightest pink roses you must have ever seen in your life

"butterflies are attracted to roses, the colors are vibrant and they pollinate them."

"b-butterflies pollinate? like bees?"

renjun laughs, the sound adds to the almost dreamy vibe - with the way it sounds like the lightest piano keys

"yes and look - i can understand that you'd be scared of being inside a place full of butterflies, but here in the rose garden there are only a couple here and there."

he squats down and cups the petals of a flower with such a gentleness

you follow and are surprised to see a butterfly, with bright blue wings, nestled in the center of the rose

renjun flicks his eyes to your camera bag and you immediately understand why he's brought you here

without making too much noise you get your camera out and steady the lens - just one butterfly does not intimidate you like being in a glass, enclosed pavillion full of hundreds

so you can take the photo easily - though just as you click the shutter makes a noise and the butterfly takes off

you pout and look up to see if renjun is startled by the sudden escape of the focus of your photograph

when you gasp and see that another butterfly, this one a bright orange has settled on the tip of renjun's nose

without missing the moment - you raise the camera

and snap another photo, not taking the time to adjust the zoom or anything

just wanting to capture the little miracle

the butterfly seems to recognize renjun's pretty face is not a flower, not that you fault the butterfly for thinking that it was

as it flaps its wings and goes in search of another rose

you brighten up when you look at the preview on your camera

no blur or sun glare! it's a perfect shot!

and you lean close to renjun to show him and he leans in too

and the centimeter distance only dawns on the two of you when you look up and renjun has already turned his attention on you two

a heat spreads up your face, as it does renjun's and you both pull back from the scalding feeling

"i-"

"sorry-"

shooting back up to your feet you kind of wobble in this moment of awkwardness and then renjun asks

"will you use that photo for your project?"

"oh - if you don't want me to i won't, i think i can use the other-"

"you can use it."

he rubs his arm and then locks his gaze back on you

"but does this mean you won't come back to the gardens anymore?"

i guess since my project is done, he's right. i don't have any excuse to come and bother him by loitering around anymore.

you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and give a little shrug

"probably, jaemin's internship ends soon too so-"

"then would you be ok with seeing me- well-"

renjun flusters

which is somehow a shocking different from his usual blank expression of utter handsomeness. the stark difference is loveable and you almost have to stop yourself from falling over.

"well what i mean is would you want to maybe see me - outside of the garden.....like not here but somewhere else?"

"to hangout?"

you grip your camera and renjun half nods, but then you can see he's trying to think of the right word

"yes to hangout and like....but different, like a different kind of hangout."

confusion settles on your face and you are about to ask what he means exactly when someone burst between you two

"there you two are! sorry, was i interrupting renjun asking you on a date?"

jaemin's voice manages to echo even though you're all outside

and you push him playfully as renjun rids himself of jaemin's body weight and huffs

"aren't you supposed to be looking at toadstools are something jaemin?"

"first of all, toadstools are unscientific and not the correct term for a class of mushrooms. so mind your manners, and second - why would i want to miss the exciting moment where you too finally agree to go out!"

you catch renjun's gaze and it's as big and as wide as yours

"w-was that what you were asking, if i would go on a date with you?"

the words shock you ask they spill from your mouth

renjun nods, slowly, and then casts a look at jaemin

"yes. before this one interrupted."

jaemin looks between you two as if he is guilty of nothing

for a second you forget about him and then nod back

"y-yes id love to!"

renjun's face softens and he's about to ask for your number when jaemin claps his hands and the sound probably rattles the earth underneath you three

"amazing! this is truly a moment to remember!"

you and renjun both lurch at him and he laughs as you two tell him to go back to his mushrooms

and yet somehow, you three are all smiles when the day comes to an end because you and renjun have set up a date and jaemin is taking most of the credit for it

that summer, after you send the photo of the butterfly nestled perfectly on the tip of renjun's nose to your professor, is one that stays with you forever

you spend most of it with renjun, whenever he isn't busy with his butterflies, learning more and more about him

the little things like he doesn't like cilantro, he frequently doodles and draws in his free time, and he breaks everything he does down into a meticulous step by step process

you watch in fascination as he organizes his side dishes by the order he eats them, tabs the important dates in his planner, and pins your candid photos in a perfectly straight line above his desk

you know some of his friends call him a stickler, but it's really just another thing you grow to like about him

after all - your birthday gets a special, green tab in his planner. green means extra, extra, extra important

as for the butterfly garden .... you try a couple of times to go in. each time, renjun lists off a million reasons why butterflies are great and docile and not dangerous or scary

but every time you kind of apologize and say you can't do it - which renjun doesn't hark on you for

he just takes your hand and kisses the back of it, asks if you want to go visit jaemin or see the roses again

and as much as you love your friend, there's been too many instances of renjun leaning in to tuck your hair from your face and kiss you, all while jaemin pops up between you two like he's at the movies

and you two have to turn around and shoo him off as he insists he just wants to bear witness to the romance of the century

you and renjun sprawl across his bed, looking up at the ceiling as he finds comfort in counting the stripes on your shirt in silence and you mumble about how the summer is almost over and you won't be able to just be lazy like this with him anymore

the days of doing absolutely nothing

renjun props himself on his elbow and looks at you seriously

"spending time with someone you love isn't doing nothing. it's the act of growing closer."

you almost blurt out that that's the most romantic thing you've ever heard and you are going to cry

but instead, circle your hands around his neck and flip him over to be under you

poor renjun tells his directors he got bit by a species from the culicidae family (mosquito) to try and hide the blotch on his collarbone

and while the directors are impressed with renjun's knowledge of insects, jaemin just gives him the good old finger guns of 'yeah. sure'.

your photograph gets great marks from your professor, who replies to the image with praise about the lightening and angle

and the way you managed to capture both your boyfriend and the butterfly

you read the email to renjun over the phone and can almost hear the blush on him when you say boyfriend

you wonder if the future is going to be as sweet as this summer, can someone like you who is so terrified of the creatures renjun has structured his whole life around, really be the right choice for him

and when you ask renjun this, on the day before your classes officially start in the fall

he says that you don't have to be just like him for him to love you

it's the fact that you're so very you that he feels stronger about this relationship than he has about any other

and who cares that you don't like bugs. it just means that if you live together in the future he can be the one to get the spider under the cup and let it free while you lock yourself in the bathroom out of fear

you giggle at this, your heart beating against your ribs at the thought of a future so domestic with the boy smiling down at you

and the best thing is that future comes to fruition

when a decade later you're waiting for renjun outside of the botanical garden, where he strolls out with his co-worker jaemin whose holding a funny looking pot of yellow-topped mushrooms

"date night for the newlyweds?"

he wiggles his eyebrows the same way he did when you two were in college

you shoo him off with the hand that has your wedding ring on it and you tuck your hand through renjun's

"date night for you and some fungi, jaemin?"

he makes a face at your comment and bounds off in the direction of his car

you look up at renjun who chuckles to himself and pecks your lips in a greeting

"how are the butterflies this year?"

you ask as you two turn to walk down the street

"beautiful - do you think this might be the year you finally visit the garden?"

you scrunch up your nose and mumble that maybe, you'll have to see if after ten years your fear really hasn't gotten any better

he smiles and says you can take your time - ten, twenty, thirty

he'll be by your side when you decide it is time

you stop to look at him - seeing for a moment the flash of the boy with the butterfly on his nose - and smile

"and ill be by your side for anything and everyhing too."

he picks your hand up with his own - your matching rings gleam in the setting sun

"i know, that's why i married you."

#me and the website for people who butterfly watch became besties for this au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct au #renjun scenarios #renjun imagines #renjun au #renjun #nct dream #nct dream au #member: renjun #sfw #butterflies/#insects/#nct dream scenarios #renjun x reader #nostalgia au

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outercrasis · 3 years

Text

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: References to sex, masturbation (nothing actually occurs)

Summary: After meeting Mando, you just can’t seem to get him out of your head. (events directly follow Introductions)

A/N: Thanks for the kind reception to the first post of this AU! I’ll be making a masterlist soon for easier navigation :) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future posts or if I’ve missed a warning.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Lingering Impressions

Your day ended up being an exhausting one. Mando had been your most exciting session for more reasons than just the obvious. You'd reviewed the papers of two freshmen, a junior who wanted you to basically write their paper for them, and another graduate student who disregarded every suggestion you made. Needless to say, Mando's gratitude felt extra special after all of that.

Getting home, you're greeted with the welcome smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen as you throw yourself face-first into the couch. The open floorplan of your tiny two bedroom apartment allows Layla to spot you as you wander in.

"Hello to you too!" she calls over. "I'm making chicken marsala."

You lift your head up from the watermelon-shaped throw pillow to smile at her. "You are a saint and I don't deserve you."

"You totally don't," Layla teases back, happily returning to the stove. You flip over on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone while she finishes making dinner. A comfortable silence fills the room, interrupted only by Layla's hums and the discordant sounds of cooking.

Layla has been your roommate since your sophomore year of college, randomly paired together by the dorm sorting system and inseparable ever since. The two of you clicked, a friendship forged over the awkwardness of early adulthood and a shared love of terrible reality TV. Both of you keep busy schedules while pursuing your respective master’s degrees and help each other out where you can. Making dinners for each other is just a part of that.

It’s not long before Layla brings over two steaming plates of food to lay out on your thrifted coffee table. She sits opposite you, preferring to sit on the floor rather than the couch. You’re eager to dig in, groaning at the first bite.

“I’ll take that as a thank you,” Layla grins, tucking into her own meal.

“God yes.”

“Long day then?”

You groan again, this time in irritation rather than pleasure. “Yes. I don’t know how many more know-it-all grad students I can deal with.”

She’s heard all about your nightmare sessions with students that think they already know everything. You’ve questioned more than once why they bother booking the session if they're just going to ignore your advice and decide their paper is perfect as is. It seems like a total waste of time for both you and them.

Layla sympathizes and shares her own gripes about some of the assholes she's forced to put up with while working on her research project. After all, no group project is complete without the one person who does nothing but acts like they know everything. Giving each other time to vent another small way the two of you take care of each other.

As you think back on your day and sessions your mind inevitably drifts to Mando. He hadn’t been anything like you’d expected. He was kind in his own way and by far the most amenable session you’d had all day. Not taking off the helmet was odd, as was not giving out his real name, but neither of those had really bothered you when it came down to it. If anything, they only serve to fascinate you further.

“Did something else happen today?” Layla asks, a spark lighting up in her eyes. She can always read you, something that can be either a blessing or a curse depending on what it is you're hiding. You take a few more bites before answering, already anticipating her reaction.

“Well I might have also met Mando today,” You try to throw it out there casually, hoping that if you treat it as though it’s not a big deal she’ll follow your lead. You should have known better.

“You what!? Tell me everything,” Layla screeches at you from across the coffee table. She pushes her food off to the side, clearly deciding that your unexpected meeting with campus's resident celebrity is far more important.

"He came in for a session. His paper was really good, it-"

Layla is quick to cut you off. "I literally couldn't care less about that and you know it. Tell me about him, what's he like? Is he terrifying?"

You can’t help but snort at that. You know why she asked of course - the rumors flying around about him getting out of hand these days - but when you think about him now they all seem ludicrous. The gentle way he spoke to Grogu and offered his hand out to the kid before leaving. The sincerity in his voice as he spoke to you, eager to hear any advice you had to give him. No. Mando was decidedly not terrifying. “He’s… just a guy,” you tell her, not really sure how to explain his unique presence.

The eyeroll you receive in response is warranted. “Are you kidding me right now? You probably know more about him than anyone else on campus and you’re going to tell me he’s just a guy?”

You shrug, shoveling another bite of food into your mouth. “I don’t know what to tell you Lays, I only spent an hour with him. He was nice, really sweet with his kid, and I’ll probably never see him again.”

You’re not sure why you feel a quick sting in your chest at that thought. It wasn’t like you knew him well or that he even owed you anything. Considering the fact that you’d gone weeks without so much as glimpsing him on campus you’d probably only have another chance to see him if he signed up for another session and there was no guarantee he’d return.

“So the kid thing is true?” Layla asks.

“Yeah. Really cute kid, pretty quiet.” Very quiet now that you think of it. You don’t have much experience with kids that young, but you’re certain kids Grogu’s age can talk. He hadn’t said so much as a word, only letting out an occasional noise or two. It was odd, but then he could just be shy or something. Another question you’d probably never have an answer for.

“Is the kid his?” Layla presses.

“I don’t know, it didn’t exactly come up while we discussed his paper on unique material applications,” you snap back at her. You wince a little at your sharp reply. It wasn’t deserved. Layla was simply curious and now the victim of your long day and swirling thoughts.

You quickly follow up with an apology. “Sorry. I just- I had a long day and I really didn’t learn much about him, okay?”

There’s a small sense of relief when Layla nods, backing down from her inquisition. “It’s cool, I get it. Just promise you’ll tell me if you see him again?”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

The rest of the night passes like usual. You wash up after dinner, a fair trade since Layla cooked, and the two of you get to tackling homework that’s begun to pile up with the semester entering its full swing. Nighttime study sessions have been a regular occurrence since your undergrad days and have only intensified while pursuing your respective graduate degrees. It’s more about solidarity and accountability than shared workload, what with your program being in English and Layla’s in Marketing, but it’s nice. Simply having company is better than doing it all by yourself.

Around 10:30 you call it, eyes bleary from staring at your laptop. Layla is deep into a PDF reading so you leave her to her work and shuffle off to the shared bathroom. While the water heats, you brush your teeth lazily, going through the motions of your nightly routine. You test the water with your hand before deciding it’s warm enough to step in.

Your thoughts drift aimlessly as you stand under the hot stream, unfocused until they land back on him. It’s like you can’t help yourself, the way your thoughts have been returning to him all night. You’ve puzzled about him before, but only in the abstract. A hypothetical more than a real person. Wondering if rumors are true isn't quite the same as wondering about the man himself.

All throughout the night he kept popping up. One moment you would be considering the symbolic use of color in your assigned reading and the next you would be puzzling over Mando’s favorite color. Maybe orange, if his gloves were anything to go by. Layla's favorite song played and while she sang along you couldn't help wondering what kind of music he listens to. Rock probably, or was that too on the nose? As you sipped your drink you wondered what his drink of choice would be, alcoholic or not. Did he even drink alcohol at all? Something told you he wasn’t much for losing his inhibitions.

It's all the little things, all the little details that actually make up a person that no one bothers to speculate about that consume you now. Who cares about his favorite movie or favorite food when you can guess on whether or not he's been to jail?

As you wash the grime of the day from your body, your mind continues to drift further, settling onto the first thing that captured your attention earlier today. His hands. Those gorgeous sun soaked hands, how fluidly they moved across his keyboard. The firm hold of them when he shook your hand.

Eyes fluttering closed, you can't help imagining that it's his hands skating across your skin. You can almost feel the gentle roughness of them, the way he'd squeeze and hold you - tight, but not so hard that it hurts. Almost unconsciously, your hand begins to drift down your body, only to be interrupted by a pounding on the bathroom door. Your eyes snap open, confusion and embarrassment replacing your fantasy.

"Hurry up in there! I need to pee," Layla yells through the door.

You grumble in response, knowing she can't hear you, but quickly finish your shower. It's not quite as relaxing anymore, flustered by your wanton thoughts.

Getting back into your room, you check your email before setting your alarms for tomorrow. There’s the usual spam from online stores reminding you of limited time deals, a reminder that rent is due next week (lovely), and a couple generic university emails. Your eyes fall to your new tutoring appointment emails and you flick through them mindlessly to clear them out, knowing they’ll all automatically appear on your calendar.

Just as you’re about to close out of the app and get some well needed rest, a new email pops through. It’s another appointment alert scheduled for next week. You tap to open it and your heart flutters when you read the name on the form. Mando. No need to wonder about if you’d ever see him again now. You’d be seeing him Tuesday at 3 PM. Somehow you know he won’t miss his appointment.

×××××

Din is exhausted. Between Grogu, classes, and trying to find ways to make money, he barely has enough time to do basic functional adult things. Things like showering regularly, eating more than a required minimum of once a day, or heaven help him sleep.

He wishes he could afford a regular babysitter, allow himself some occasional reprieve but it's not possible. He makes just enough to keep the bills paid and at least Grogu's stomach full. There's also an ever present paranoia about letting a stranger into his home, much less to watch his son. Only Paz and Cara have ever babysat for him and even that was mostly against his will.

Din slumps onto his couch, exhausted from the long day. He’d found the couch on the side of the road. It’s well worn and has a couple holes in it, but it was devoid of fleas, comfortable, and most importantly, free. His helmet is off, sitting on the kitchen table where he’d left it after getting home from campus. He’s mostly used to it these days, but sometimes it can still feel suffocating underneath the custom bucket. Taking it off at the end of the day is always welcome, especially when Din sees Grogu’s eyes light up at his exposed face.

He allows himself just a moment of rest, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of the couch. Grogu had finally gone to bed, demanding three stories before he fell asleep and Din not having it within him to deny the requests. A small smile rests on his lips, thinking of Grogu's excitement at his mediocre storytelling. He already loathes the day when Grogu won't ask him to read anymore.

There are about twenty other things he should be doing right now other than sitting on the couch. The apartment hasn't been cleaned properly in weeks, dishes are piling up, laundry needs to be done, he needs to find a job for this weekend, should probably find better daycare for Grogu, has an exam to study for, and a paper to finish writing. He should be doing all of that and more, and yet he can't find the will to move. He stays planted firmly on the couch, letting his thoughts drift. A few different ideas and ruminations swirl around, but his mind settles onto one. Her.

She isn't what he had been expecting. When his professor had recommended a session with a writing tutor he'd been a little miffed at first. Din knew words weren't his strong suit, but he hadn't thought he was that bad. He probably wouldn't have even considered it if she hadn't immediately assured him that it was only a suggestion because she saw potential in his work.

He had still only been considering it, form half filled out, when Grogu had hit submit. He’d looked for a way to cancel the appointment, but couldn’t figure it out with the school’s poorly designed website, so instead he had resigned himself to going. After all, just the one session couldn't hurt and he'd already be on campus.

He thought the tutor would be some irritating know-it-all, pointing out all the mistakes in his paper. Either that, or that they'd be too nervous to make any real criticisms. He’d noticed the way people froze up around him, sometimes too timid to even look in his direction. She wasn't either of those things.

She was all smiles and kindness, not hesitant around him for a moment. Even Grogu took an immediate liking to her, as evidenced by the gift of his frog drawing. Din had more of those than he could count, but very few others had been bestowed the honor of his sacred amphibian themed artworks.

She challenged him in a way he liked, not rude but still forceful. Encouraging him to figure out what it was she was guiding him towards with the paper. Not taking ownership, simply identifying where ideas could be made stronger or clearer. They’d only worked through a few pages in the session and Din already felt more confident in his writing.

What he liked most though was that she hadn't even asked about the helmet. It was all he heard from those brave enough to speak to him. Where did he get it, why did he wear it, did he ever take it off, what does he look like underneath, and so on. Avoiding all of those questions got to be draining. She didn't even acknowledge it.

She had mentioned the rumors that were apparently swirling around campus about him but that was it. He was a bit grateful for that though, entirely unaware of how popular he'd apparently become. The stares that followed him on campus were hard to ignore, but he didn’t know about their accompanying whispers. He still isn’t sure if the rumors are a good or a bad thing. Her reaction hadn’t given him all that much to go off of. He wishes it had.

That thought stops Din short. Where did that come from? Why did her opinion of him suddenly matter after a single one hour session? Din can’t remember the last time he considered someone else’s opinion of him. Probably when he first brought Grogu home to meet everyone. Now here he is, wondering what his English tutor’s thoughts were about the rumors everyone has been spreading about him. He needs to get out more.

Din shakes his head free, trying to ponder other aspects of his life. Like when he’d be able to get the Razor Crest up and running again. She’d broken down again after only the second week of classes. Paz makes fun of him for riding on such an old bike, but she’s a classic. Din can’t get rid of her, no matter how much she likes to break down on him. In the meantime he could make due with the loaner truck from Peli.

Thoughts of his motorcycle only distract him for so long though. He realizes half-way through the fantasy that he’s imagining taking her out on his bike, feeling her hands clasped around his waist as he rides through the city. The way she’d hang on just a little tighter, pressing herself against his back, as he hits the throttle just a bit harder.

Din sits up on the couch and mutters to himself. “Come on, Djarin. Pull it together.”

She’s beautiful, yes, but to already be fantasizing about taking her for a ride? That’s a bit much. It has been months since Din has seen any kind of action, but he shouldn’t be this desperate after spending only an hour with a pretty face. Still, now that he’s thinking of it, his mind wanders to what she’d be like.

Would she take charge, calm and in control like she was earlier today? Or would she submit to him, allow him to do whatever he wanted? A small groan escapes Din’s lips at the thought of having her beneath him, begging for him to take her. How she would look spread out on his bedsheets, how sweet she’d taste. He can already imagine how good she’d feel wrapped around him, the way her eyes would look all strung out and cockdumb. It would be a beautiful sight if he’s ever lucky enough to see it.

An alarm Din forgot he set suddenly blares on his phone. He can’t even remember what he set it for as he’s yanked from his lewd imaginings, scrambling to turn it off. There’s a small wave of embarrassment as he registers where he allowed his thoughts to drift.

Ignoring the uncomfortable pressure in his jeans, Din pulls up the tutoring appointment form on his phone and signs up for another session. There’s an option to select a specific tutor and he’s quick to open it up, choosing her name from the drop down menu.

There’s nothing wrong about this, right? She’d helped him with his paper and Grogu liked her. She even asked if she’d be seeing him again. That was plenty of reason to have another session. His renegade fantasies had nothing to do with his decision to go back. Din is a man in control of his urges. If anything, this next session would prove that his thoughts were all just fleeting, just a simple result of going too long without anyone in his bed.

taglist: @honestly-shite @booksarekindaneat @wonderless-screwup @pinkninja200 @captain-jebi @ajeff855 @leias-rebelion

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated 💕

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #college!din #college!mando #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian au #pedro pascal x reader #mandocrasis fic #sessions

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clairenatural · 3 years

Note

Shy Nerd | Dean

Punk | Castiel

[ the world needs more of this]

college au! this ran away from me and ended up 2.2k whoops :’) i hope you like it! (also note i have no idea how motors work i am not an engineer)

There’s an open textbook on his bed, but Dean is ignoring it; instead, he’s scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. He doesn’t really understand Instagram, but Charlie had looked so shocked and dismayed when she found out he didn’t have one that he’d given in. He doesn’t post much—doesn’t have much to post, really, besides his car and LARPing with Charlie—but it sure is a good distraction from his physics work. He sighs and flops down on his back as he taps through stories. It’s a Friday night, so there’s all the usual parties, and clubbing videos, and group dinner shots. He frowns as he taps through Charlie’s story of a few of their friends playing D&D—he’d be there, too, if it weren’t for his exam. His physics final, on Monday, that he should be studying for. Instead of being on Instagram.

Dean is about to close the app and begrudgingly turn his attention back to his notes when he clicks onto one last story.

HELP NEEDED ASAP, it says, white against a black background, in all caps. Someone who is good at engineering. Or building. Or even just welding things. I’ll pay you, it continues, and then in pizza and beer. Please, in smaller font, directly below.

Dean pauses. He likes beer. And pizza. And building things. He could help out this—who posted this, anyway? It’s a name he doesn’t recognize. casanova.k. He taps on the profile picture. His eyes go wide.

Oh.

That guy. That guy from the hipster art party Charlie had dragged him to earlier in the semester, when she was still dating that art girl, and he’d ended up in a dark room thick with smoke, blurry with alcohol, talking to a guy about three levels of cool higher than him about…something he can’t remember. He just remembers hastily exchanging Instagrams as Charlie dragged him out of the party, ranting about her soon-to-be-ex.

And now he needs help.

Dean looks at his textbook. He looks back at the guy’s—Cas?—Instagram. He takes a deep breath and pulls up a message.

i like beer, pizza, and welding things

It’s smoother than usual, and Dean is proud of himself for about 2 seconds before he panics and ruins it: i’m an engineer, i mean. not just a rando with a thing for power tools, haha.

There’s an achingly long pause before Cas likes both messages.

This is how Dean Winchester ends up standing in the University’s metalwork studio, with 24 hours left until his final exam, staring at a multi-eyed, multi-winged, metal…thing.

It’s due next week, Cas had said. I know it’s last minute. The only studio space I could get was Sunday.

And Dean had said yes, like a fool, because he can never say no to boys in eyeliner with pretty eyes.

Now, staring up at the sculpture, Dean lets out a low whistle. Cas, next to him, groans and drags one hand down his face. “I know. It’s—this is why I need help, alright? I think I can still salvage it if I just—”

Dean, who has taken a few steps forward to admire the intricacies, looks up sharply. “What?”

Cas frowns back. “What?”

Dean shakes his head. “No, I mean—I’m not an art guy, but this metalwork is great, man.” He traces one of the welded seams. “You, uh. Obviously have good hands,” he continues, and then winces. Great compliment.

There’s a soft huff and Dean looks up to see Cas watching him, bemused. “My good hands,” he emphasizes it, and part of Dean wishes he could melt like solder. “Make me a good artist. They do not make me good at making things move.”

Dean blinks at him. “Excuse me?” Move?

Cas frowns again, but it’s more out of worry than confusion. His arms are crossed, and Dean tries very hard not to focus on the black ink swirling down his forearm. “I sent you the plans yesterday.” Now he’s chewing on his lip ring, too, and Dean rips his attention back to the steel structure to stop himself from focusing on that, either. He tries to think about these plans. He remembers getting the text, opening them……and immediately disregarding them in lieu of getting as much studying done as possible. Internally, he groans.

Externally, he nods, pretends to know exactly what these “plans” are. “Sure, yeah,” he covers, and hopes it’s convincing.

The metal…thing, because Dean still isn’t sure exactly what it is, has a cluster of wings in the middle—6, to be exact, and they’re poking up around 3 large rings. He reaches out for one of the rings, right between two of its welded eyes, and gives it an experimental push. It creaks, and sways, and Dean winces when he hears Cas suck in a breath behind him. “Sorry”, he mutters, but when he turns back around Cas is frowning at the art piece and not at him.

Dean is expecting to hear either it’s alright or, more likely, never touch my art again, but Cas just hums and steps up until he’s standing next to Dean. “What do you think this is?”

It’s the closest they’ve been since he arrived, and Dean takes a moment to observe the other student from this distance. He’s wearing black boots, black jeans. A t-shirt with a band on it that Dean has never heard of. His nails are black but the rings he’s wearing are silver, and so is the cross hanging around his neck. His hair looks like he either spent an hour on it or no time at all, and his eyes—like at that party, the one neither of them has mentioned yet—are rimmed in black. Dean, in his sneakers and second-hand jeans and faded Batman shirt, has never felt less cool.

“It’s an angel,” Cas continues, and Dean isn’t sure if he’s given up on waiting for a response or if he’d never expected one in the first place. “A biblical one. You know, the ‘be not afraid,’ kind.” He lowers his voice for the angel impression, which Dean didn’t think was possible. He doesn’t know what to do with the realization that it is.

“Don’t think this is what my mom meant when she used to say angels were watching over me,” Dean tries for a joke, and it’s half-hearted, but to his relief Cas chuckles anyway.

“Yes, well. The church preaches them as significantly more…cuddly.” Cas frowns. “It makes praying to them easier to sell.”

The cross around his neck is starting to get confusing.

“And these—these are gonna move,” Dean hazards a guess, reaching out to touch one of the rings again. “All of them?”

“They’re electrons,” Cas nods, which Dean supposes is an answer. “They should all circle the wings together, like the classic atom diagram. But I can’t—” Cas reaches out for the ring this time, hand landing directly above Dean’s. He pushes it, and it sways. Obviously frustrated, he pulls back. “I need it to be motorized, to look right. And I have the motor but don’t know how…to do it.”

And, well. That, Dean understands. He smiles and, in a burst of confidence, claps Cas on the shoulder. Cas looks up at him, startled, but his expression morphs into a soft smile at the look on Dean’s face.

“Let’s get her moving, then.”

He tries not to think about the time slipping away as Cas hauls out the motor, or when he hands Dean tools. He does not stare too long at Cas’ biceps when he’s screwing something in, or when they have to do last-minute welding. They get it hooked up, and it whirs to life, and Dean does not think about how late it is when Cas gives him a hug in his excitement, or when he promises to follow up on his beer and pizza promise at his apartment.

It’s there, back in Cas’ apartment, sitting on his living room floor, both a beer or two in, when Cas finally mentions it.

“You’re the one who gave me that idea, you know.”

Dean stops mid-chew and blinks at him. “Whg—” he swallows his bite of pizza and tries again. “What?”

Cas shrugs and doesn’t make eye contact. He picks at the beer label. “At the party we met at. The one we aren’t talking about, for some reason.”

Dean wants Cas’ ugly, blue, cigarette-smelling shag carpet to swallow him whole.

“You told me you don’t ‘get’ art,” he sets the beer bottle down to do air quotes, and Dean’s shame deepens. “Because you only ‘get’ science. And I told you they were the same thing. And you told me to prove it.”

Suddenly, it clicks, and Dean risks making eye contact. Cas catches his gaze and holds it steady, and he’s calm—not upset, Dean registers, which is a relief. “The atom,” he blurts out, and Cas grins. “Yeah.”

“Art and science.”

“Yeah.”

Dean is sitting up straighter now. “But, the angel—”

Cas sighs and pushes himself up from where he’d been leaning against the couch. He turns until he’s fully facing Dean. “Divinity,” he raises one hand, “and the core building blocks of humanity,” he raises the other. “Art,” he gestures with the first hand, “and science.” With the second.

Dean stares at him. “Are you calling art divine?”

“Art is an expression of divinity,” Cas shrugs. “Science is an explanation for it. But it’s—you know. The same thing.”

Dean wonders how he can say that so casually, so nonchalantly. He wonders what would happen if he crossed the pizza-box distance and kissed him.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts instead, and Cas raises his eyebrows. “The party, I didn’t think—I didn’t think you remembered.”

“I assumed you didn’t,” Cas counters. “But you did. You do. Why didn’t you text me?”

It’s exactly what he expected to hear and it still catches him off guard. “Um—” Dean stammers, trying to think of a good excuse. Cas is just watching him—not staring at, watching—brows furrowed.

With a heavy sigh, Dean settles on the truth. “Come on, man. Look at me,” he scoffs and stares down at his jeans, the already worn knees even worse after the day spent kneeling on concrete. “I’m an engineering dork who plays D&D on Fridays and you’re—” he waves vaguely in Cas’ direction. “You know.”

The frown has deepened. “I don’t.”

“Cool.” It sounds so juvenile to say it out loud.

Now, Cas looks taken aback. “Dean. We met at a party where I voluntarily listened to you talk about string theory for an hour and a half.”

Dean doesn’t know if that’s a compliment or not. He buries any possible blush with a swig of beer. “String theory’s cool,” he grumbles into the bottle.

“Yes.” Cas agrees. “And so are you. Although—” he pauses and tilts his head. “I could have sworn you were in physics, based on how much you talk—”

Dean is so caught up in Cas Novak calling him cool that it takes his brain a second to process the word “physics,” but when he does he nearly spits beer all over the ugly carpet. “Shit,” he swears, already starting to scramble up.

“What?” Cas is following him, frowning.

“Physics final. In—” he checks his watch, “—16 hours. I gotta—” he still has time to water down the beer, study, and get at least 7 hours of sleep before—

“…Why did you just spend all day helping me if you have a final tomorrow?” Dean pauses from where he’s trying to find his other shoe to glance back at Cas, who looks so genuinely baffled it shoots a warmness into Dean’s heart.

“You needed help,” Dean shrugs, finally locating the missing sneaker and pulling it on. “Good luck with the angel, though, okay? If it gives you any running issues, feel free to—”

He’s pulling on his jacket when he feels a touch on his arm and realizes that, sometime in the past 20 seconds, Cas has crossed the room to him. “Dean,”

Dean pauses, and Cas…looks nervous.

“I like D&D,” he offers, and Dean stares at him.

“What.”

Cas levels his gaze. “There is nothing more punk than dragons,” he replies, incredibly seriously.

Dean’s brain short-circuits.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline from the exam panic, maybe it’s the 1.5 beers, maybe it’s Cas’ hand still warm on his arm, maybe he’s still caught up in Cas calling him cool and maybe his brain takes an extra second to load his self-consciousness on its reboot, but—he leans down and kisses him.

Cas makes a small noise but kisses him back almost immediately—but then he’s pulling back nearly as quickly, and he gently pushes Dean back by the shoulders when he tries to follow. Not far enough away to be a rejection, just…enough. “You have an exam in the morning,” he says this like an apology, and the warmth in Dean’s chest grows. “Text me after?”

Dean nods, then pauses, realizes what Cas just said, and nods again. “Yeah, I—yeah, I will.”

“There’s not enough alcohol here for you to pretend to forget this time,” he teases, but he’s smiling.

Dean flushes anyway. “I’m sorry.”

Cas shakes his head and pushes him a bit. “Apologize tomorrow. Go.”

“Okay.” Dean doesn’t move.

“Okay,” Cas replies.

“Okay,” Dean says, and leans down to kiss him again, a quick one, because he thinks maybe he can.

“Okay,” Cas repeats, but his tone is fond. “Go.”

“Okay,” Dean repeats back. But this time, he does.

The next day, after he aces his physics final, he doesn’t pretend to forget.

#destiel #deancas #punk!cas #nerd!dean #i didnt know how to end this lmao sorry!!!!#(also ik this isn't quite as punk as the typical punk!cas im sorry sadhakdsh)#but wow i love these two now #this took me back its been a WHILE since i read/wrote some good punk/nerd #thank u anon #they live in my brain now #my words #follower fics #alcohol mention

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siriusmydeer · 3 years

Note

Hi hi hi, First thing, I legit love your theme sm-

Second thing, I was wondering if I could maybe request a fic where Fred is best friends with a gryffindor fem!reader who try’s to stay in the shadows but he and George are basically her best friends who she loves with all her heart bc they treat her kindly and don’t try to over push her limits and Fred always try’s to check up on her every other night because he wants to make sure she doesn’t get too lonely (they have a really fluffy relationship) and time skip to him asking her to the Yule ball and then dancing with her in private where they can still hear the music but where ppl can’t see because he knows she doesn’t like crowds and idrk just fluffy and they end up kissing or smth

Anyway, have a good day and don’t feel pressured to do this okay! Drink some water and eat some food.

hi, darling!!! thank u so much for the request, also if anyone else has sent me a request i’ll be working on them this weekend. i hope this is what you wanted :))

not a yule ball

fred weasley x fem!gryffindor!reader

summary: fred and you have your own yule ball.

warnings: food, mentions of loneliness, mentions of claustrophobia, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of alcohol, fred being a sweet heart, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, mutual pining but freddie being a simp, a KISS, a light slap (like on the chest?), mentions of spiking drinks with alcohol and mentions of a panic attack

word count: 2.2k

“when are you gonna tell her, mate?” george said looking at his ginger twin. “tell who, what?” he said defensively, afraid that he had made his feelings to obvious. “are you forgetting we’re magical twins? i know everything.” george said smugly, smirking and looking back at his newest invention while fred went to lay on his four poster bed.

fred was about to defend himself, lying at the fact his twin caught him dreaming about his crush who also happened to be his bestfriend, besides george of course. “you can barely stomach the thought of her getting pranked, i know you better than yourself it’s not that hard to tell” his twin looked back to his him as fred grumbled something under his breath.

he was about to continue his plea to his fiery headed twin as you, you’re gorgeous locks framing your face, your perfect coloured irises looked for him first, the way your skin looked good in every shade of lighting and the way your figure made its way over to his sitting beside his laying figure.

“you alright, freddie? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” you said looking at the red head confused. his eyes widened before sitting up next to you. “yeah, you alright love? look a bit fidgety.” he said as you were wringing your fingers together and george smirked over to fred before getting up going to the common room.

“alright, i guess. for transfiguration mcgonagall partnered me with people i don’t really know so i have to meet them in the library soon. i dunno, it’s stupid m’just nervous” you mumbled, embarrassed before looking at him. he scooted closer to you and placing a hand on your arm.

“darling, if you want i can talk to her, i mean she favours us gryffindors and i can tell her i’ll lay off the pranks and stuff?” he said quickly before adding, “i just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” he said in a sorrowful tone, rubbing his hand up and down your arm before pulling you into a hug. his hands rested on your waist as your arms winded their way around his neck and your head on his shoulder.

“no..no... m’fine i’ll just get over it, i have to go but i’ll see you and georgie later?” you said standing up, smoothing down your skirt and walking towards the door. “yeah?” “of course darling, i couldn’t leave you alone even if i wanted too.” and with that you were off to the library. a few seconds later the other mischievous twin apparated into the dorm and pouncing on fred’s bed.

“damn, didn’t know you were that whipped.” george added, with a laugh. “oh, bugger off!” the long haired ginger, yelled hitting george with a pillow.

later that evening fred couldn’t keep his mind off you, and your well being. he always knew that you tended to distance yourself, normally not on purpose but it was a habit that he always wanted to help you break. he knew like it was written on the back of his hand that large crowds made you nervous, he also knew that that when you were nervous you would pull on your favourite ring he made you for your birthday. you tended to like things homemade things rather than store bought, when you were nervous you would bounce your leg to the point where he would have to grab your leg to stop it.

he memorized every quirk, every indication of a mood change and he knew when things were good or bad. he didn’t think he was whipped, he thought this was what friends normally for other friends. that was until he saw you flip your hair a certain way, or loosen that gryffindor tie of yours and he absolutely wanted to kiss you senseless. he hadn’t told you, or george for that matter because he didn’t want to ruin the strong friendship you had built since second year when he helped you through a panic attack after snape had embarrassed you infront of the whole class.

‘maybe i should check on her... i don’t want to be to clingy?’ he thought to himself.

he opted to go to your dormitory, biding past the charm on the staircase and knocking on your door twice, an indication it was him before seeing you on your lay on your twin bed chipping away at your nail polish. “anything you wanna talk about?” he said before hopping on your bed sitting back on your headboard.

“it wasn’t bad, just frustrating.” you said looking into his brown irises through your dark eyelashes. “cormac kept speaking over me, he just kept interrupting and it was frustrating.” you mumbled before looking back at your fingernails.

“you had mclaggen in your group? absolutely not, i��m talking to mcgonagall.” he said, trying to stand up but not before you grabbed his hand pulling it back down. he got flustered at the completely innocent gesture, face flaring up, stomach getting tingly and his heart feeling like it could burst from his chest.

“you freddie, aren’t doing anything.” you sigh, “i’ll just work through it, it’s only a few days.” you giggled before adding, “plus if you’re coming to check on me, then i really don’t mind.” you say scrunching your nose in his direction before padding over to your desk to grab something.

if fred was flustered before, everything that had just occurred inside of his body exhilarated one hundred times harder. you WANTED him to come see you, and check on you. fred was of course, quite the flirt and he mostly new what to say to girls. but with a girl as gorgeous, and caring as you, you had him completely speechless.

“hey- you ate today right? drank water, took care of yourself? i know you forget sometimes, angel...” he said sheepishly fumbling with his ring-clad fingers looking at his lap. you smiled at his ability for care for someone, you of all people, “yeah... yeah, hermione brought me stuff.” you looked at him before grabbing a makeup wipe and looking in the mirror.

“i should- i should go me and george.... are working on a new prank, so i’m gonna go.” he said before walking to the door,

“see you tomorrow, freddie?”

“see you tomorrow, darling.”

the first bit of the semester quickly approached, the sooner you were to christmas, the sooner was... the yule ball. a ball with teenagers, dancing, fancy clothes and people trying to subtly drink alcohol... i mean who wouldn’t love it? you. you definitely did not love it. big sweaty crowds, with music you probably wouldn’t like, and drink spiking with god knows what liquor.

i mean as long as the clothes were ugly you definitely didn’t mind, and seeing fred in a suit was something you also definitely did not mind either but the claustrophobia of it all really made you want to lay in your bed and have a nice and long nap.

george’s reminders of fred’s pining definitely didn’t help either, fred wanted to go with you of course but he also knew that you definitely weren’t fond of big groups. so he had a brewing idea bubbling in that gorgeous mind of his, and the room of requirement. he had went to george with the idea hoping that it was a way to have a fun time in your own way, the more sensitive twin of the bunch agreed it was great idea.

after working on a 4ft scroll for potions, you were about to go find your 2 prankster bestfriends when you heard a double knock at the door and then the creak of it opening. you’re favourite fiery redhead walked in without his normal strut, and padded in nervously with his gaze strictly at the floor before sheepishly looking at you. “are you busy..?” he said before walking closer.

you set your quill down and look back at him and cock an eyebrow, “no...why?” you said nervously, hoping he wasn’t about to prank you considering he hadn’t since the beginning of term.

“i wanted to take you somewhere.., that’s if your not busy” he said interlocking his fingers together looking back at you. “no i’ve just done all my homework..” you stuck your hand out, “take me to the secret man cave where you test all your pranks on the innocent.” you said giggling while he interlocks your fingers together.

you guys roam around the castle till he guides you up the astronomy tower, the sky painted hues of red and orange.

“i’ve never looked at the view from up here...” you say flashing your irises towards him then back at the sunset. “yeah, it’s stunning.” he says, staring directly at your (BEAUTIFULLY CARVED) side profile, “oh yeah, the sunsets alright too” he said with a chuckle, untangling your fingers and brining his arm around your waist.

you look back at the lanky red head before lightly slapping your hand against his chest and looking up at him. “such a flirt, weasley.” you say looking back at the fading sky.

“go to the ball with me.”

“well that’s demanding.”

“well, get a pretty dress, do your hair all nice or don’t you look gorgeous at every moment of the day” fred wasn’t sure where this surge of gryffindor confidence came from, but he wasn’t exactly going to back down now.

“and don’t worry we’re not gonna be around sweaty, horny teenagers... i’ve got a surprise.” he says looking at you with smirk, oh he new you all too well.

“yeah freddie, i’ll go to a not yule ball with you”

then night was tonight, a pretty dress that excentuated every dip, curve and line of your body. you chose gryffindor red for house pride, even thought nobody would see it besides fred. you had done your makeup to perfectly match your completion, and done a hair style that exactly matched the hair type that laid on your head. your tresses, makeup and dress all compliment each-other. you look in the mirror a little more, wringing your fingers together before looking up at the door.

fred opened the door, leaning on its frame. his hair was long, not styled but you had always liked it better messy anyways. he was dressed in brown and black dress robes and if you thought fred was attractive before? you really thought we was beautiful now.

“you’re-... wow. everything is wow, you’re just so beautiful” fred said, looking you up and down analyzing your hair, face, and dress. “freddie, you look... really good” you nervously laughed before walking up to his lanky figure.

he grabbed your hand and brought you through the hallways, he also had made you cover your eyes and guided you once you reached a certain hallway. your movements were put to a halt when he whispered to you that were were almost there, you stood before a few seconds before you heard his footsteps again. ‘was he.... pacing?’ you thought to yourself. he grabbed your hand again before bringing you in a room.

“okay... open your eyes”

you quickly opened your eyes, a giant ballroom, with a instruments charmed to play your favourite music and fred to your left grinning like an idiot.

“oh my merlin.... did you do all this for me?” you say looking at him in the eyes, eyebrows scrunched and tearing welling in your eyes. “sweaty teenagers, bad music and spiked drinks with fire whisky aren’t really your favourite but i still wanted you to have a good evening. so i opted for this.” he said before looking at the floor then back at you.

“fred, i cannot fathom how amazing you are.” you said with a squeal before kissing his cheek and running to the middle of the floor. “c’mon now! don’t waste the music, dance with me!”

and with that, he was off. some songs were fast, some songs were slow. but then your favourite slow song came and he knew no matter how much protesting his brain was saying, george’s little voice was much to over powering. “i can see those gears in your head moving, care to tell me what your thinking about?”

“you.”

“i’m going to need you to elaborate, please.” she always has a smooth way with words, he thought.

“everything, you’re everything. you mean everything to me.” fred definitely wasn’t a nervous, butterfly in the stomach and flustered guy but for for you we was tripping over his feet and becoming beet red at the slightest touch from you.

“kiss me.” for being such a closed off girl, you sure were bold. you said it more of a statement rather than a question but fred didn’t care, in that moment he only wanted to kiss the girl that also wanted to kiss him.

he moved his hand to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. he moved forward engaging you in a kiss, it was slow, passionate and it was something you had been both waiting for. you pulled away for a second to let your lungs breath but not before he captured your lips again moving faster, his grip on your waist tighted.

“merlin, i’ve been waiting to do that”

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mcwriting · 3 years

Text

The Marriage Project (8)

Hello, hello, hello! Here’s chapter 8 after a long break since chapter 7! If you haven’t all ready, make sure you go check out the prologue to Sweet Home Alabama once you’re done here, as I may post the first chap very soon!

Story Masterlist

Word Count: 2178

Warnings: Some language? I can’t think of anything else

% approximately the 3rd week of October %

You hadn’t really told anyone what you’d been doing Sunday, and especially left out the part where you were with Tom.

Once getting home the previous night, you’d quickly taken off your makeup and brushed your teeth before essentially passing out on your bed. You’d also snoozed your alarm enough times that you’d had to rush to school that morning, getting to class with only a minute to spare.

In the afternoon, your friends sat around a lunch table discussing how your weekends had gone.

“Mine was pretty boring. How about yours, y/n?” Caroline asked.

“It was fine. Mostly did homework. Oh, and I took some senior pictures yesterday, but that’s it.”

“Oh that’s why your hair is straight?” someone else asked.

“Yeah, I got home late and woke up late so I just tossed on some jeans this morning.”

“Where even were you? Your snap maps said you were at the lake,” Alexis stated.

To say that question made you nervous was an understatement. You didn’t want to give anything away so you tried to keep it vague.

“Oh, yeah. The photographer knew of a place out there we could go so I said yes.”

“Who was your photographer? I’ve been looking to get pictures done,” Caroline said.

Well, there goes ambiguity.

“Hah, well, Nikki Holland.”

“Isn’t that Tom’s mom?” Alexis asked, squinting at you. You sighed.

“Yes. I’ve been at their house a lot for the project and her whole career is photography so she asked me if I wanted her to do my pictures for free. I couldn’t turn that down.

“So that’s why you and Tom were at the same location yesterday!” Alexis exclaimed.

“What! Keep your voice down!”

“So it’s true? You and Tom took your senior pictures together? I was waiting until you’d admit why you were together.”

“Okay there are so many things I need to address but firstly, we did not take them together, we just did them at the same time. And secondly, since when do you have Tom on snap?”

Alexis rubbed the back of her neck and looked away. Everyone else looked surprised and kept quiet.

“Remember sophomore year when I went to that party while you were out of town? And I told you I made out with someone? Well….”

“ALEXIS!”

“I was drunk, okay? By the next day I realized how gross it was, but I kept him on snap so I could keep tabs for when we talked trash about him.”

You folded your arms across your chest and stared blankly across the table at your best friend.

“And you just didn’t think to tell me that you, I don’t know, made out with my mortal enemy and have had him on snap for the past 2 years?”

“I thought you’d be mad at me! Obviously it was the one time, and we’ve never sent each other a single snap. This was about you anyways and how you and Tom spent yesterday together. Where were you, actually?” Alexis asked, looking at you expectantly. You rolled your eyes.

“His grandparents have a lake house, okay? His mom planned the whole thing and the leaves were pretty colors, so it was whatever.”

“Hm, I guess so…” Alexis trailed, giving you one final look of “this conversation isn’t over” before someone brought up a different topic.

With volleyball regionals that upcoming weekend and Tom having an away game, you and he decided to work together that Thursday at his place.

You quickly rinsed off after practice and headed over to his house where he was waiting at the door.

“Took you awhile,” he commented as you came up the sidewalk.

“Yeah, sorry. I got caught talking to coach about this weekend. It also takes forever to get these leggings on right out of the shower,” you joked, gesturing down at your athletic pants.

You got to work pretty quickly as there was a lot to do as compared to normal. By the time you finished, it was almost dinnertime.

“Oh, I think my mom finished all those pictures if you want them. Let’s go find her,” Tom suggested, leading you downstairs.

Her and Dom were in the kitchen cooking together. It was sweet watching them interact.

“Hey, mom? Did you say you had that flash drive done?” Tom interrupted, causing both parents to turn.

“Yes! I’m glad you reminded me. Dom, hold down the fort while I go get that.”

She led you to her office, then dug around her desk until she found it, handing it to you.

“You know, dinner will be ready in probably 10 minutes. You’re free to eat with us tonight,” she offered.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You never impose on us! And absolutely, we always make more than enough food so the boys can take leftovers to school.”

Well if you’re sure… I’ll text my mom and make sure she doesn’t mind.”

She didn’t, so as you waited for dinner, you sat down on a living room couch, Tom taking a recliner nearby. From the corner of your eye you saw Paddy walk in the room and freeze when he saw you.

“Y/n! Lovely to see you on this fine evening,” he greeted, sitting tentatively on the other end of the couch. You held back a chuckle at his word choice.

“And you as well, sir. How was your day?” you asked, trying to get him out of his shell.

His eyes widened as he told you all about his school day. You prepared to reply when Dom came and announced the food was done.

You followed everyone to the dining room and stood watching, not wanting to accidentally take someone’s seat.

“Oh, you can sit here, y/n,” Paddy said, pulling out a seat for you in the middle of the table. You glanced to Tom, who was rolling his eyes.

“Thanks, Paddy. What a gentleman you are,” you complimented as he helped tuck in your chair. He took the seat on the left of you as Tom sat on your right. Directly across from you were Sam, then Harry and Dom on either side. Nikki took the head.

“Y/n, why don’t you get what you want first,” Nikki suggested, gesturing over the food. There was spaghetti, salad, and bread. You got only a little bit of each thing, trying to be polite.

“That’s all you want? I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you eat more on the bus to soccer games than that,” Tom commented. You raised your eyebrows at him and nudged his knee with yours.

“Thomas! Don’t be rude! Y/n, you’re free to however much or little you’d like. You can always go back for more later, too.”

Dinner went relatively smoothly aside from that, most of the conversation being centered on you as different family members wanted to know different things (Paddy especially as he’d trained his eyes on you almost the entire evening). For the most part, Tom was quiet except to crack a few jokes or answer something you asked him.

As everyone was finishing their meals, you offered to help clean up.

“Oh, no, don’t worry. It’s Tom’s job to do the dishes tonight,” Dom told you.

“I don’t mind helping him. I can dry if nothing else.”

After being reminded a few times that you shouldn't feel the need to, you went with Tom to the kitchen anyways, holding a towel.

“You really don’t have to help me, you know. You’re technically our guest,” he said as the sink filled with water.

“Seriously, I don’t mind. I have nothing better to do anyways since I finished my homework.”

You worked together pretty much silently, falling into a comfortable rhythm. As you set down the last plate, Tom spoke up.

“Hey y/n, think fast.”

“Wha- TOM!” you exclaimed, as he had shot water at you, making the front of your shirt wet. “Oh you are so dead for that!”

You jumped on his back, pressing your wet shirt against him, causing his own shirt to dampen. He thrashed around, the both of you laughing.

“What the hell is going on in- oh,” said Sam, who entered the room.

You both froze in place, you quickly sliding off Tom as Sam looked at you skeptically.

“Your brother just sprayed me with the faucet, so I was getting back at him,” you tried to convince him. It is what happened after all.

“Right... I was just coming to grab something from the drawer, so I’ll leave you all to it,” he said awkwardly as he dug around the drawer and quickly made his leave.

You and Tom both looked at each other awkwardly before bursting into laughter.

“You know you’re lucky this is a dark shirt,” you said after a moment.

“Am I though?”

“TOM!”

When you got home a little bit later, you decided to plug in your flash drive and look at all the pictures Nikki had taken. You were marveling at her work when your phone started buzzing. It was Alexis.

“Hey, what’s up?” you picked up, confused as to why she’d call on a Thursday night.

“Hey. I saw that you were home so I figured I was good to call. Are you alone?”

“Yes, and why do you need me alone?”

She paused.

“Look, y/n, I’m sorry for bringing that stuff up about Tom in front of the girls Monday, but, since I don’t know when I’ll be able to get you alone again, I need to ask you something.”

“Okay what is going on?” You’re scaring me a little.”

“I hate to be the one to ask this, because I know you and we came up with that whole revenge thing at the beginning of the semester but… do you… have feelings for Tom?”

You were taken aback at her question.

“What! Me have feelings for Tom? Are you crazy?”

She sighed.

“Well it’s just that, you two are always together now, your usual bickering has turned into normal banter, and you literally traveled to take pictures with him last weekend. It just seems like something else is there, and the whole school is starting to pick up on it.”

Ironically, you had frozen on a picture of you and Tom from Sunday, one of you standing in your sports uniforms back to back.

“Okay so maybe we’re kind of friends now, but that doesn’t mean I like him! And how many times do I have to say that the pictures were just at the same time?”

“Then explain to me why his mom’s website has multiple pictures of you two together?”

Your blood ran cold and stomach dropped.

“Wait, what?” you breathed, immediately going to pull up her page. Like Alexis said, a picture of the two of you posing was at the top of the home page. It was the same one you’d been looking at before. “Oh, no,” you whispered.

“Are you seeing it?” she asked.

You gulped.

“Yep. But, it’s not that bad, right? I mean she takes tons of sports pictures and we look super serious. It’s not like we’re standing with our arms wrapped around each other or anything.” you rationalized, half joking at the end of your sentence.

“You might want to scroll down, then…”

You went past a photo of just you on the dock railing in your jumpsuit to find one of Tom lifting you over his shoulder, but of you laughing.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you muttered.

“Are you sure you’ve got nothing to tell me? I’ve had lots of guy friends and most of them don't do that to me.”

“Yes, Alexis, I’m sure. He was getting back at me for something and acted like he was gonna throw me in the lake. I didn’t realize Nikki took any pictures of it. I’ll ask Tom about it.”

“If you say so… I’ll believe you. But you do know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course I do, and I’m telling you right now that nothing has happened or will ever happen. We’re just friends, okay? Now I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow?” you finished.

“Okay, see you tomorrow,” she signed off, ending the call.

You felt another pit in your stomach thinking about how you’d lied to her. You definitely didn’t have feelings, but why didn’t you tell Alexis about that moment you’d had in his room a couple weeks back, or how you'd fallen asleep on his shoulder Sunday night, or even how you’d accidentally seen him naked?

Because she’d think there’s something there.

But there isn’t.

But..?

You shook the thoughts away as you texted Tom, asking him to take a glance at his mom’s website.

“Omg I have no idea why she used the third picture. I’ll see if she’ll change it” he answered.

You were glad he would save your asses like that, but felt a twinge of sadness for it to be replaced. You almost didn’t mind it being there.

A/N: another long awaited marriage project! I have been working so hard to get this out while going through rewrites and working on sweet home alabama, but hopefully this will hold y’all over for now. As always, thank you so much and feel free to hit up my asks any time!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads,

#The Marriage Project #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland story #tom holland series #tom holland au #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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miyaniacs · 3 years

Text

Mafia AU - Bokuto x fem!reader

A/N: AYT it’s here - took me longer than planned, but hey I wrote all of this just now lol so sorry if it’s all over the place.

Chapter 11 - The encounter

words: 2.310

warnings: uhmm maybe lowkey toxic behavior of Ushijima and Bokuto and mentions of past trauma I guess

Chapter 10 - Jealous? Index ; masterlist

Sunday 10am

“Today four dead bodies have been found, in west Tokyo. All four of them are yet to be identified. Apparently the bodies are in such a horrible state, making it hard to identify them, we spare all of you with any further details.

The police asks for any witnesses or anyone missing someone (…)”

With a big sigh you fell backwards resting your body on Bokutos chest.

You knew exactly who did this and ohh how badly you want to text him, making sure if he’s okay. You knew that you’re the reason those four men lost their life… well no. It’s their fault, it’s just your fault that Ushijima was so brutal.

“What’s wrong princess?” Bokutos arms wrap around our waist and he nuzzles his face in your neck.

“Nothing…” you sigh. You feel his soft lips gazing over your skin, his breath tickling you as he lets out a sigh himself.

“Princess… you know you can trust me right?” You can feel him pout against your skin.

“Yes I do Kou…” you shift in his arms and face him. His big golden eyes practically stare into your soul. “I just don’t know what to do when I sit in his lecture tomorrow.” You look down on your hands, which are currently fiddling with his shirt. His eyes soften and he presses a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Y/n. You don’t have to go to his class tomorrow.” He suggests, “I’d be way more save for you to not go to university at all.” He says and softly combs his fingers through your hair, getting stuck in all the countless knots he caused last night while…, having fun with you.

“Kouu… that would be way too suspicious, also I need to go to his class.. I need to pass it to start my last semester next year.” You whine and hide your face in his neck. Bokuto pulls you closer to him, resting his chin on your head and rubbing your back.

“I’ll think of something okay?” He mumbles and kisses your head.

Monday 9am

You sit in Bokutos car and look down at your bag. Your class, with Professor Ushijima, starts in 15 minutes.

Are you actually excited to see him again? Yes.

You grab your bag, about to open the door when you hear Bokuto turn off the car. Confused you turn around and look at him. He smiles brightly at you.

“Guess who’s a guest student for a few weeks now!” He beams. It takes all of your strength to keep up a happy face now.

Guest student? That means he’ll be in probably all your classes for now on… which means you get no chance to talk to Ushijima and get any information on what they are planning to do … nor will you be able to be close to him again. All of your plans crumble down in front of your eyes while you watch Bokuto get out of the car and walking around the car to open your door.

“Nawww you’re so happy you lost your voice?” He teases and waits for you to get out. You just nod, your brain working on any kind of plan to throw Bokuto off.

“Are… are you mad at me?” He suddenly asks and takes your hands in his, looking directly in your eyes. “I just wanted to make sure you’ll be save.” He mumbles and starts playing with your fingers.

“No.. No - I’m not mad at you! I’m just overwhelmed.” You force out a smile, but sadly, he’s got way too good at reading you. His head drops and he looks at you with his puppy eyes. “I’m so sorry. I should have know that it would come off as too… controlling and observing… and untrusting. Please. Y/n. You know I trust you right? I just want the best for you… and for you to be save.” He says dejected.

“Kou… I know you do. I just … I- “ you stutter before he interrupts you. “I know, you need your space. Let me cancel being a student here… just… please text me so I know you’re okay.” He lets go of your hands and forces a smile. Without an idea what has gotten over you, you grab his arm and say: “No. Please don’t. I don’t mind spending more time with you.”

Why do you always got make your life more difficult than it has to be.

Here you are now, next to Bokuto, fingers interlaced, while you walk to the lecture.

Monday 10am

It’s pure torture.

First of all you can’t concentrate on anything due to all the girls around you gossiping about Ushijima OR Bokuto.

Also Ushijima isn’t really found of the sight of you sitting next to Bokuto right in front of him, which makes him exposing you in front of the whole class with asking you questions, you can not answer simply to the fact that 1. Everyone around you is talking about how hot your two love interests are and 2. Bokutos hand is casually resting on your thigh and 3. The tone in Ushijima’s voice is reminding you of … different scenarios.

Yes, Bokuto and your best friends are trying to help you out, yet nothing goes unnoticed by the great Ushijima.

After 2 hours your torture ended.

Or so you thought.

“Y/n. I need to talk to you, please wait in front of my office.”

You sink down in your seat again and close your eyes. Has he been doing all the exposing just to have a valid reason to talk to you in private?

“Princes, hey, come on let’s go.” Bokuto grabs your arms and pulls you up.

Your friends already left for their next lecture, so now it’s only you and him again.

“Hey.. you’re not going to him.” He says in a demanding voice, making you look up at him in surprise. You’re still not used to see him with that much authority.

“I’m not sure if it’s a good idea… maybe he needs to talk to me?” You assume.

“Well… and what if he simply tries to kill you?” He says and stops walking, looking down at you.

“And what if he doesn’t?” You say and look directly in his eyes.

Bokuto narrows his eyes, but you hold still and after a few seconds he huffs: “Fine. But I’ll come with you.”

You smile at him and grab his collar pulling him down to place a quick kiss on his lips. “Deal.”

Monday 11:55am

The air in Ushijimas office is as thick as it can get. Bokuto and him are standing in front of each other, arms crossed, having what seems to be a starring contest.

“Uhm.. so you-“ you begin getting annoyed of the two of them.

“NO!” They say in union.

Rolling your eyes you sit down in one of the chairs and look at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Well… if you keep on starring at each other I can just leave so you can do whatever you want to do.” You suggest- finally catching their attention as both look at you.

“Stop talking as if we’re still friends.” Ushijima says harshly at you and you flinch at his raised voice.

Right. You forgot. They want to kill you. You’re betraying them. Get your act up Y/n.

Sinking down in the chair you look up at Ushijima.

Gosh, you really never wan him to be really mad at you.. you know he’s just acting right now, he’d never actually hurt you, yet you feel relived as Bokuto steps in your view, shielding you from him.

“Touch her and you’re dead.” He hisses, his voice now dangerously low.

“Pff, why would I ever lay a finger on her again. She isn’t worth me killing her.” Your heart stings at Ushijima’s words, but he’s still not finished. “I just wanted to warn you.” He laughs.

“Warn who?” Bokuto asks.

“You.”

“Of what?”

“Well… let’s just say, you and your gang aren’t as secretive as you should be.” He smiles arrogantly and takes a step back, opening the way to the door.

“Leave now.” He grumbles, “Oh and Bokuto - hope you have fun with that hoe.” He growls and before you or Ushijima can react, Bokutos fist already collides with Ushijimas face.

“Call her a hoe one more time.” Bokuto hisses, his whole aura sifting on full on Mafia mode, there’s nothing left of the sweet loving Bokuto you’re used to see. When you look at him now, you can truly see how tall and muscular he is, his eyes carrying a dangerous deadly glint in them, his hand still in a fist, his knuckles slightly red form the force of the punch.

Ushijima just laughs, holding his face where Bokutos fist hit him. “And what are you doing then? Huh? I’m just telling the truth. She would have went to bed with you straight away the first time you saw her, just to get close to you and get informations.” He takes a step closer to Bokuto, both of them now standing face to face, their foreheads almost touching. The tension lingering in the air is visible for anyone in the room.

Bokuto’s breathing heavily, trying his best to hold himself back. Between gritted teeth he whispers: “ That’s only because you’d force her to do so.”

Much to Bokutos dislike, Ushijima again laughs. He knows exactly that you’re not forced to do anything, so this whole situation is rather amusing for him.

Bokuto’s whole body is shaking out of rage.

You have to do something now, otherwise everything will escalate in a matter of seconds.

Carefully you take a step forward and place your hand on Bokutos arm. His muscles are flexed, ready to throw another punch.

“Kou… please, let us leave.” You say softly, but it seems as if he isn't registering you next to him. His eyes are still fixed on Ushijima, watching every little move, ever litte change in his mimic.

“Bokuto… please.” You say louder and slightly tuck on his arm.

Finally he snaps out of his trance and looks down at you, his eyes still showing the same deadly glance he had while looking at Ushijima. You swallow loudly and suddenly you feel extremely small and vulnerable. Letting go of his arm you take a few steps back.

Ushijima stiffens as he sees your anxious state, ready to blow everything and step in-between Bokuto and you if he dares to take a step closer to you.

Bokutos eyes soften and his face drops as soon as he realises that he’s the reason why you’re eyes are now filled with fear.

“Y/n…” He takes a step closer to you and extends his arm, trying to touch you. Your reflexes act before you can think and you instantly take a step back.

The look you saw in his eyes, reminded you of the way those guys looked at you the night you first met Ushijima.

Bokutos eyes fill with sadness and he drops his arm, his shoulders sink down and he takes a few steps backwards.

Immediately your mind is filled with regret. You know for a fact that Bokuto would never intentionally hurt you, never, despite all of this though, you still get those throwbacks.

“Kou.. I’m sorry.” You mumble and walk over to him to wrap your arms around him.

“Please spare me with this shit.” Ushijima’s voice echos through the room and both yours and Bokuto’s gaze shifts to where he stands.

“Leave now.” He says and crosses his arms.

A bit hesitate Bokuto grabs your hand and leads you out of the room.

Non of you say a single word while walking directly towards the black Bugatti. The whole drive was silent. Bokuto’s jaw tightly clenched, while you didn't dare to look at him.

He stops the car as soon as he’s in front of his apartment.

“Go inside, I have to discuss something with the boss.” He says without looking at you his eyes still fixed on the street.

“Kou… let me explain… please.” You begin. You can not simply leave him alone now, while he lives with the thought in his head, that you’re afraid of him.

“Later.” He says coldly, but finally turns around to look at you for the first time since you two left Ushijima’s office. His brows furrow and his eyes soften as soon as he sees how genuinely sad you look. “I promise we talk later.” He says, in a total different tone and gently cups your face in his hand. You lean your head into his touch and close your eyes, while a small tear runs down your face.

When you open them again, you’re met with the Bokuto you’re used to see. His soft and gentle aura calming you down immediately.

“Don’t cry my love.” He says, caressing your face with his fingers.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologise. Non of this is your fault. I should have known better. You already told me how you’ve met Ushijima. It was my fault.” He says, his smile now dropping into a sad, regretful one. You open your mouth to protest, but he quickly places his lips on yours in a gentle loving kiss, shutting you up.

“No. Don’t say anything. I promise you, you will never see me like this again. I can’t bear knowing that you’re afraid of me, even if it’s only a tiny little bit of you fearing me.” He mumbles before kissing you again. “Now please, get inside. And I hope to find you in one of my sweatshirts when I get back home.” He smiles genuinely and pokes the tip of your nose, making you giggle.

“Okay, I can’t promise not to take your Vetements one tough.” You laugh.

“Whatever I own is yours.” He smiles lovingly and watches you getting out of the car.

@tendouthighs , @lilacshouko @softhourswithseb@theperksofcoffee @cuddlesslut @shhhlikeme, @kynyta @yammmers @asahi-is-jesus-periodt @hxnni-bxnni@theduvetpirate @chromaticstudio @gywjd0131 @haikyuusimp91 @kara-grayson04 @saucysamu @brokeyiam

#haikyū!!#haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu fanfiction #bokuto x reader #Bokuto x yn #bokuto imagine #bokuto headcanons #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #hq imagines #hq headcanons

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frightfurtabby · 3 years

Text

Himikiyo Week 2021 Day 2! Bookstore Ambience

// Likewise with yesterdays entry, amino crossposting to be added later. i feel this one’s pretty damn cute

later edit- all links will be collected later in an individual post that will act as a guide/directory.

Word count: 1837

Link

AO3- https://archiveofourown.org/works/34138636

Amino- https://aminoapps.com/c/danganronpa/page/blog/himikiyo-week-day-2-bookstore-ambience/d3DX_eE8Sbum1JjvngPBwrwNV6mNR1eD7WR

A first date, depending on who you asked, was either more nerve wracking or less so than you expect. Kiyo wasn’t sure which they’d agree with but nonetheless they were fretting. Pacing back and forth in their office at the university. A cute teacher from another department had ended up inviting them out on a date, like a date date. They’d been on the job for a few years now but hardly socialized much outside the other anthropology staff who were understanding of at least some of their eccentricities.

Then just before the start of the previous semester the college hired a new batch of professors including one taking a spot over in the English department in a room in just the opposite hall. So they would see her often in the mornings downstairs in line at Coffee place, usually she was to the back of the line and they’d cross paths when Kiyo was going up with their usual order. The first sighting was like this, and entirely by chance as the anthropologist had to turn to answer a colleague briefly and eye contact was made with the cute redhead in line just over the other’s shoulder, Himiko Yumeno.

They soon hit it off, spending time talking to each other in between class periods in one room, the other, or in the previously mentioned cafe. About work, future plans, what they did in their spare time. Kiyo was always busy doing work, research generally and most of their interests revolved around it and there were days in a row just immersing themself in study. It was like that for as long as they could remember, though what in particular they were fascinated by changed over time.

Legends of monsters, legends of heroes, artifacts left behind, Asia, North America, Africa, they’d deep dive into something and come out the other end being aware of enough to teach their students in extreme detail. Little did they know at the time but in a moment of serendipity just before they met Himiko they felt a pull toward researching the history of magic. And then it turned out that she was interested in that as well.

There were very few days they didn’t find a chance to talk. They had a shared routine every day, and now was a step up.

Kiyo adjusted their collar and tie before straightening out the skirt a bit more and wondered if it was all a little too formal and they were overthinking this. They did tend to do that kind of thing after all. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too much of an issue, Himiko was definitely understanding of that kind of thing, they knew that much already. There were also the times they’d complained of that trait and she called it “adorable.”

It was to a bookstore with a cafe in it, so they didn’t need to be terribly formal. Kiyo remembered that it was taking place at around 8 tonight and looked over at the clock and realized that it was much sooner than they thought. She would be showing up any moment. Time went somewhere while they were lost in thought so they quickly put on their shoes, grabbed an umbrella just in case and headed out to the bus stop that was only a few blocks away.

The couple met while Himiko was sitting on the bench still, tapping away at her phone to text Kiyo to make sure everything was alright.

She looked up after hearing footsteps and sighed in relief. “You never seemed much like the type to show up late.”

“My apologies.”

“You also never seemed like the type to straight up ditch either, so…” she blushed and looked over down sheepishly. “I was getting a little worried something happened and you couldn’t pick me up as soon.”

“I got a bit distracted. I-” their explanation started as they took a break with her to sit and rest, arm wrapping around her shoulders.

“Was trying to make yourself extra cute for me?” the redhead teased, putting an arm around them right back and leaning in cutely..

“I… yes, I won’t deny that.” It was a cloudy evening and the autumn breeze blew downed leaves past where they had sat and began to cuddle on the bench. “You know how it is sometimes.”

“Yeah, I remember the time you genuinely didn’t grasp that the poetry I had been showing you for your input was, in fact, about you.”

Kiyo chuckled. “Oh god yeah, that took me a few to even have an inkling of it going on. I just might be the most useless lesbian ever.”

“Mmm, you’re useful for warmth sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?”

“Hehe, y-you know what I mean. Like right now, it’s a bit chilly but you being here makes it not so bad.” The first date was finally here, after they had planned it to be a day they were both free. So the woman was going to savor every moment of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The couple approached the doors of the date location holding hands, under the umbrella. Skin made cold by the walk over in spite of hands sharing warmth. Small flecks of rain along the top of the umbrella dripped down. Inside, Kiyo instantly felt the warmth of the building. It wasn’t a long trek at all, if it was they would have done this by car. Everything around here was luckily close to the campus, including home.

The umbrella was put back in its holder, so as not to drip all over the place. It would be rude to do so.

Kiyo turns and gives Himiko a peck on the cheeks. “Food and coffee first, darling?”

The shorter woman nodded and smiled. “Yeah, that sounds like a plan.”

It was just to the back left corner from the entrance. Rows and rows of enticing books had to be passed by before you could reach it, but who would come and not buy anything? Romance, sci-fi and fantasy, Manga and light novels too were all present.

After ordering, they got one booth to share, and sat down at the same side. Kiyo’s umbrella, bag, and jacket sat on the ground on the very inside corner. Everything they had ordered would be coming up, and luckily there wasn’t that much of a line on evening’s like this. The barista was even a student from university and had recognized them. It was awkward at first but Kiyo joked that it would be interesting to see which class would become fully aware they were dating first.”Let’s turn it into an experiment. Who has more Gossips attending their lectures?”

And they were glad that put her more at ease. It felt nice gently rubbing Himiko’s shoulder with their hand as she leaned in and placed a kiss on their cheek.

��Well, I sure hope it’s not mine. That’d be a pain.” she said to play into the gag a bit more. “Besides, it’d be fitting for your class.”

Kiyo feigned offense, mock gasping “Hey now what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, just you observant types over in anthropology, always wanting to know everything you can about how people work. I can see that tendency being correlated.”

They had told her previously they thought about doing more research for a paper about something like that after listening to some of their colleagues, ironic though it may be, gossipping about student rumors.

“Point taken.” Kiyo returned her smooch with their own, directly on her forehead.

The coffee and tea arrived first. So the talk continued with the added benefit of drinks. Himiko changed the subject to books on her to-read list. “You know there’s this new book I’ve been thinking of assigning in a future quarter, I’d have to read it first.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s about this girl that finds out that she has magical powers and gets some training, eventually she encounters a strange, beautiful spirit and they fall in love. I always feel like courses need a little more gay love. Oh, and the author is too, so the representation is genuine.”

KIyo nodded and listened. “That’s very good. Perhaps we’ll get a couple copies? I’ll pay. I’ll also be getting a few things that have been on my list for a while.”

They held hands, sat so close. Hans resting between both of their legs. It was such a good time to fit in cuddling any time there was a little lull in the action of the date. Some time to lazily place kisses.

Right on cue the meal arrived. Breakfast for dinner was a classic, from the bacon egg and cheese on croissant to the pie slices as a dessert. Reluctantly, they separated to more easily eat and drink.

“This is as good as it usually is, mmm, actually, it’s even better.” Himiko said, taking their hand again.

“I agree. I don’t know if coming alone will cut it for me any more.” Kiyo leaned in and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Shall we move on to the next leg, or savor this moment some more?”

The food was finished or wrapped up for later.

After a few more minutes cuddling in the booth, the couple looked through the aisles closer to the cafe portion first and Kiyo’s stack started, growing through each section until they had to split the load and have Himiko carry some.

“Sheesh, I thought you were only getting a few.” she complained, intending it to be lighthearted.

“My list is quite long.” Kiyo replied with a chuckle.

“Guess this is why you needed the bag then. If this was only a few I have to imagine it’s as long as you are.”

“Oh my~” the tall one replied, complete with suggestive eyebrow wiggling.

“Kiyo! Not like that, I meant your height. Did Iruma from the Engineering department teach you that one?”

As that line of discussion thankfully ceased the couple came to the one Himiko was looking for, it was up front on the display close to the cashier. She picked up one copy and put it on her pile and handed the second over to Kiyo.

“We could have, like, a little book club date. Just the two of us.” If only it weren’t so difficult to nuzzle close due to all these books, she thought.

“I think I’d enjoy that. Your company is always a pleasure darling.” They briefly leaned up close, cutely brushing against her before leading the way to check out.

Himiko blushed. “Yeah this was nice, we should do it more often.”

With a couple of coupons Kiyo kept in their pocket the price was cut down, but still cracked 12,000 yen. They stuffed the back full and carried it over their shoulder. Umbrella similarly along their back for if it would be needed again.

Arms wrapped around each other, the couple walked out and noticed the rain had stopped for now, and it would be dry on the bus trips back home.

#himikiyo week #himikiyo #himiko yumeno #korekiyo shinguji #college professor #au #bookstore #first date #writing #fanfic #danganronpa #danganronpa v3

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mycomfortblanket · 3 years

Text

About That Night

Chapter Two

“It’s Toph, right?” he asks, his eyes going back to their normal size and a small smile playing on his lips as if he can’t believe his good luck.

“Yeah, and you’re Aang.”

He smirks as he opens his notebook to a blank sheet, “Not surprised you remembered it. You said it plenty the other night.” The glare that Toph shoots him would normally disarm a normal person, but his grin only deepens.

The professor begins to pass out the syllabus to everyone while explaining what he expects from everyone for the semester, “And like I said, your deskmate is also going to be your project partner for the rest of the semester, so I do suggest you guys become buddies, or at least acquaintances.” He finishes passing out the packets and moves back to the front. Having the powerpoint finally pulled up, he begins to go through the schedule for the semester and makes sure they understand when certain tests are or when projects will begin.

Toph bites down on her lip to contain her groan at how she is stuck with this dude all semester. She really thought she had successfully snipped that relationship clean when she closed the door to his apartment undetected. What happened between them was amazing, but it had to end right there in his apartment and not go any further. Period.

Thankfully, Aang is quiet the rest of the time the professor goes over the syllabus, but sadly, that is short lived. “Okay class. So, to start off right, I would like you all to spend the next 15 minutes talking with your deskmate and getting to know each other a little bit.” Toph closes her eyes and takes a deep breath; this day is seriously going downhill fast.

“So, do you come here often?” Aang asks with a sly grin on his face.

“You can’t be fucking serious. A pickup line? Really?” Toph says. She turns to face him and rests her cheek on her fist. The way she stares at him normally makes people uncomfortable, but he seems to be taking it in stride.

“Well, I’ve already gotten you into my bed so not much else to say,” he smirks at the eyeroll he gets out of her. Her cheeks are barely tinted pink with a blush, but the sight of it eggs him on.

“Right. Well, let’s get one thing straight before we continue this ‘partner’ thing. Me being in your bed, that was a one time thing. This,” she gestures in between the two of them, “is strictly school related.”

She jots down her number on the corner of his binder, “And I swear, if you text me ‘What’s up’, I will kill you- I know where you live. You’re not to text me unless it’s school related, got it?” She was really hoping her rude tone would wipe the smile off of his face, but he seriously doesn’t seem to be taking the hint, even though she said it very clearly.

“Right, well, here,” he grabs her arm and writes his number on her wrist, “is my number. Feel free to call me anytime,” he wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“Oh my god,” Toph groans and turns back to the front of the room, hoping for this class to end.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t text her until two weeks before their first project is due. Asking her if she is wanting to meet up to go over notes and work on the presentation together. The lack of flirting seemed a little suspicious to her, but nevertheless, she agreed and texted him her address.

Toph doesn’t know what she was expecting when he showed up, but him leaning against the door frame with a sultry smirk on his face wasn’t it. Rolling her eyes, she turns away from the door and walks back into the living room. She hears the door close behind her and footsteps that follow her.

Sitting down on the couch and pulling the laptop into her lap, she begins to pull up the rubric for the project and pulls out certain materials they may need. Aang sits on the floor directly next to her legs and his shoulder brushes against her knee everytime he moves.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she asks.

“Getting my stuff out. What are you doing?” he replies innocently.

Toph rolls her eyes hard and pushes him away with her knee which just makes him laugh and move even closer to her. After a moment of getting stuff organized and setting up her computer, they begin on the project, neither of them talking much. The feeling of him against her leg distracts her more than she would like to admit.

They work nonstop for a few hours, only stopping to ask the other questions and once for Aang to go to the restroom. Around 6 pm, Aang stretches his arms up and groans a little as his back pops. Toph’s mouth goes dry at his groan; it was incredibly close to some of the noises she managed to ring out of him with the twist of her wrist the other night.

He stands up and walks around the coffee table and stands in the middle of the living room staring at her expectantly.

“What?” she asks, quickly averting her gaze hoping he didn’t notice her staring.

“You wanna take a break?” When she doesn’t reply, he groans and goes back around the coffee table and drops down onto the couch, resting his head against her shoulder. Having him this close, being able to smell him, is bringing back memories and she is finding her resolve slipping just slightly. She closes her eyes for a moment and steadies herself.

They sit there for a while longer, Aang’s head on her shoulder while he watches her type up her portion of the project. When she feels like she’s reached a stopping point, she rolls her shoulder trying to dislodge him, “Can you get off of me?”

“Oh, that’s the first time I’ve heard that. You were definitely saying something different the other night,” he recalls, laughing. He jumps away before her fist is able to make contact with his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get some food. We need fuel to keep this up,” he offers her his hand.

Toph hesitates for a moment, staring at his outstretched hand. She wonders if by accepting his proposal to go get food will give him the notion that his wooing is working. Deciding it would make a grand appearance, her stomach growl loudly and his smile only grows wider.

She sighs loudly and accepts his hand, standing up from the couch and together, they walk out of the apartment to go get some food.

They’re sitting across from each other at the nearest Panera waiting on their order to be called and Toph feels like it is super awkward. Aang on the other hand has kept up a steady one sided conversation. She looks at him with utter disbelief that he isn’t picking up the fact that she really doesn’t want to talk to him or get close to him in any way.

“Not to be rude or anything, but have you not picked up on the fact that I don’t want to be friends?” she asks, leaning onto her elbows that are resting on the table.

“Oh, yeah. I totally picked that up when we became project partners. But, one would say that I am pretty persistent at things I want.”

An employee comes and brings their food, effectively cutting off that conversation with a deep sigh from Toph. For the first time since they sat down, it’s quiet between them as they start to eat. “So, do you have a particular reason why you don’t want to be friends? Because, if I recall, you weren’t rushing to get out of my bed.”

She chokes on her food at that. Who the fuck- god, he is bold, “Jesus, what is wrong with you? People don’t just go around saying shit like that, you know? And why do I have to have a reason? I'm allowed to say I don’t want to be friends with someone,” she looks down at her sandwich when she says this. She doesn’t really have a reason, but the stress of more relationships- romantic or otherwise- sounds like stress that she doesn’t need at the moment. Looking back at him, she sees that he is staring at her with the utmost attention.

“I mean, I guess you don’t have to have a reason. But, there has to be one for us. We connected, in the physical, sexual, and educational sense. So, what would be the reason that you don’t want to be friends?”

“Besides the fact that it would be super awkward since we both saw each other naked and orgasm faces?”

“Yeah, besides that reason.”

Toph sips her drink and looks away from him and thinks for a better reason, but honestly coming up with anything other than ‘she doesn’t have time for a relationship’ which sounds incredibly stupid and cliche, “Because, I don’t want one.”

“It doesn’t have to be romantic,” he chirps.

“What makes you think that if I wanted a relationship with you, that it would be romantic? You’re awfully bold for someone who has no chance.”

“That’s the only reason I am so bold.”

Back at her place, they continue to work on the presentation, and again, there isn’t much conversation passed between them other than the project. It finally hits midnight, and Toph calls a quits, saying she can’t stand to look at another variable or table of covalent bonds.

She leans back into the couch and Aang climbs from his spot on the floor, cracking his back in the process and sits beside her, “So, buddy. When would you like to have this homework party again?”

She folds her arms across her chest and looks at him from the corner of her eyes, “Why are you so persistent?”

Aang laughs a little, “Maybe I just deeply want our friendship?”

Snorting at his response, she says, “Bullshit.”

Laughing again, he replies, “Maybe I want to get you into my bed again? Or maybe, just maybe , I think we’re soulmates and are destined to spend eternity together.”

“Yeah, that’s a load of crud,” she pushes off that couch and goes into the kitchen and grabs one of the Naked Smoothies from her fridge and grabs one for him as well. “You got me into bed once, why do you think you could do it again?”

“Because, I am irresistibly smooth,” he says with a large grin.

Leaning against the counter, she crosses her arms, still holding onto both drinks, “There is no way in hell you would be able to get me into bed again.”

“You want to make a bet on that?”

“Stakes?”

“I get you into bed again by the time this project is due, and you have to go on a date with me. If I don’t, I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the semester except to talk about the projects or something to do with class.”

Still leaning against the counter, Toph cocks her head to the side and studies him. She is sure she could win this bet; she’s so adamant about not getting into any new relationships in her life at the moment. But, she has been know to crumble when there is sex involved.

Against her better judgement, she sticks out her hand and confidently says, “Deal.”

Read the full story on Archive of Our Own

#taang #taang fluff #taang smut #bets #taang bet #one night stands #toph bei fong #aang #toph x aang #avatar the last airbender #atla

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bettsfic · 3 years

Text

march pinned: ending the sex project

in the march edition of my lowkey writing-related newsletter, in addition to my writing-related post roundup and upcoming consultation availability, i have personal essay recommendations and a segment on the definition of a project!

for more information on my creative coaching services, check out my carrd.

if you want to receive my lowkey writing-related newsletter directly, you can subscribe here.

full newsletter below the cut, or you can read it here.

fuck february, amiright?

i thought january was bad. but february. february was the stuff of nightmares. my cousin passed away from covid (you can read about her here; she was really an amazing person and i feel so lucky to have known her). i was finally formally diagnosed with PCOS (bittersweet, i guess). my car broke down. i took two (2) days off and it took me two and a half weeks to get caught up again. i can only hope march treats us all a little more gently.

the good news is, i finished revisions on my short story collection to send to my agent, finished workshop submissions for the semester, and now i can return to my first love, fanfiction. that i am constantly working through original fiction to return to fanfiction has been making me think a lot about the nature of a creative, capital-p Project. so, this month’s BTALA (been thinkin a lot about) is going to inspect the concept of a “project.”

new resource

last month i unveiled a folder of my favorite short stories which i’m pleased to hear several of you have perused and gotten some inspiration from. this month i’ve compiled my favorite personal essays. there are fewer essays than there are short stories because i’ve broken them into two groups: personal and craft. next month i hope to have the craft essays compiled.

i’m always looking for more things to love, so if you have recommendations for your favorite short stories and essays, i’d be happy to hear them!

writing-related posts

how to physically maneuver the revision process

the difference between M and E ratings of fic

resources for worldbuilding (check out the reblogs for more!)

a couple syntax/prose book recs

how to break a long work into chapters

march availability

unfortunately i have to cut my coaching hours down a bit, so i don’t have any openings left in march, but i have some availability in april. if you’re interested in a writing consultation, please fill out this google form!

you can learn more about my services on my carrd.

what i’m into rn

for the past year, i’ve basically been trapped in a 10x10 room, and my health is definitely reflecting that, both mentally (does anyone else feel like they’re living in groundhog day? just, every day being exactly the same except fractionally worse than the day before??) and physically (i reorganized the kitchen and could barely move for two days).

reader, i have discovered something called “walking,” in which i put on real human shoes and go outside. it feels strange, bestial. neighbors wave hello to me. a harrowing experience.

while doing this, this walking, i’ve been listening to the lolita podcast which a friend recommended to me, a ten-episode series that dives into everything lolita: the novel itself, its context, adaptations, greater cultural responses, and — as a sticker on my laptop says — vladimir “russian dreamboat” nabokov. as far as i can tell it seems well-researched and presents the many perspectives of lolita in a fair way. i’m only a few eps in, but i’m entranced so far. highly recommended if you, like me, have a complicated relationship with lolita.

i’ve also found myself mildly addicted to a mobile otome game called obey me, which. look i know it’s like the definition of cringe but it’s also mind-numbingly fun and if i want to spend my minimal free time pretending 7 demon brothers are all vying for my affection then that’s between me and god. it’s a lot of what i loved about WoW: frequent events, bright colors, a daily to do list of simple but satisfying tasks, many many rewards, and it doesn’t take itself very seriously. and if i have 4k fic written of mammon/reader that’s nobody’s business but mine and my longsuffering ao3 subscribers.

i’m telling you this because i don’t know anyone else who plays it and am desperate to trade headcanons. so if you play, or start playing, hit me up!! i will give u mad tips and daily AP.

been thinkin a lot about

the project. the project. even the word “project.” PROject (noun). proJECT (verb). what is the project? “project” comes from the latin pro and jacare which means “to throw forward,” or projectum which means “something prominent.” a projector throws forward an image. to project onto something means to throw your perspective onto something else. to embark on a project is to make something prominent in your life. the concept of “the projects” comes from public housing projects, the government throwing forward affordable housing.

what is the project? in joseph harris’ essay “coming to terms” he says that “to define the project of a writer is…to push beyond his text, to hazard a view about not only what someone has said but also what he was trying to accomplish by saying it.” harris’ perspective is that of an english teacher encouraging his students to read critically, not just to summarize a text but to find its project, its greater purpose. and while i first read this essay in a seminar on composition pedagogy, it stuck with me as a writer. it made me reconsider the greater nature of the creative project.

how many of us, if asked to describe our writing project, would begin with a plot or character premise, the nuts and bolts of a specific story? maybe even the working title? but i wonder, is breaking out the plot really the project? is the discipline of sitting down and typing really the project? and when the story is finished, is the project over? what is the project?

in 2019, i wrote 86k words of a novel. i began revising that novel last fall, and i’m finding that i’ll probably keep maybe less than 10k of that initial draft. i’m not bothered by that. the novel i wrote before that started at 125k, then i rewrote the entire thing to 200k, then i whittled it back down to 160k, and next i’ll be tasked with paring it back down to 80k. i’m not bothered by that either. in the past five years or so i’ve written about 2 million words, and i’ve only published 20k of them. only 1% of what i’ve written, i’ve published. in the words of lauren cooper (catherine tate), i’m not bothered.

i used to see publication as the birth of the project, and writing it akin to a long gestation period. then i saw publication as the death of the project, and its life was lived in its drafting. now, publication seems irrelevant to the project. the confines of a story and its many revisions are also irrelevant to the project. the beginning of a story is not the start of the project and the end of the story is not the end of the project. the project is larger than the story, its revisions, its publication, and its eventual readership.

i think it took me so long to see this because for so many years i was still in my first project, the sex project, an exploration of trauma and sexual identity, which began in 2014 with destiel fanfiction, endured through many fandom shifts, my MFA, years adrift as an adjunct, all the way through 2020 with the completion of my short story collection. i used to wonder how anyone could write about anything other than sex. to me it was the only topic worth my attention. i was certain that i would spend my entire life being a sex writer and i’d never find fulfillment writing a young adult sci fi adventure or a highly literary novel about complicated family dynamics. i was baffled by people who were interested in other things, who could write entire novels without using the word “cock” even once.

then my sex project ended. i don’t know when exactly it happened or why, but suddenly i realized i never wanted to write another artful description of an orgasm or find a tactful euphemism for a vagina ever again (personally i prefer “wet cunt” because not only is it blunt, i find it phonetically pleasing). obviously i’m still writing explicit fanfic but it doesn’t feel the same as it used to. sex feels more sidelined to me, even if it’s still the center and drive of a fic. i no longer get any personal satisfaction from writing it, although i do get satisfaction in sharing the work for readers to enjoy.

it’s like i’ve somehow solved the biggest puzzle of my life. or i guess made peace with my meanest monster, that extremely complicated double-mind of desire that some non-sex-repulsed asexuals feel: you want to feel desire you can’t actually feel so you write it into fiction, to try to understand this thing you can’t have and which society tells you you’re missing, and you don’t even know if you don’t have it, because you still feel desire for affection and intimacy, and maybe even a desire to be desired. and for those of us who are asexual and have c-ptsd, sex you don’t actually want (but don’t know you don’t want, because maybe you’re ambivalent and mildly curious and touch-starved) and an unrelenting drive toward people-pleasing can be a dangerous combination. how can you ever know what consent is if you always put other people’s desires above your own?

maybe i’m alone in this. maybe i’m not. maybe for most people, wanting sex is a light switch: yes i want it, or no i don’t. but for me, i had to write a whole lot of words to figure out things like desire, consent, intimacy, forgiveness, the shape that good love takes. the lengthy theoretical flowchart of “i might be interested in having sex if this and this and this and this and this happens in this exact order and under these exact circumstances.”

it was hard to write something into reality that i have never seen except in pieces, in subtext i clung to with no lexicon to give it shape and meaning. te lawrence in lawrence of arabia. some of tarantino’s early work. the film benny and joon. and weirdly, the star wars prequels (that one’s hard to explain; i’ll spare you). i don’t think the sex project was about coming to terms with my asexuality as much as it was trying to organize my thoughts and feelings by continuously rendering my own experiences within a greater, shinier ideal — like how you sometimes have to unravel the entire skein of yarn to find the loose end, and only then can you get started.

i guess i’m in the infancy of the power project now. i’m moving toward themes of control, infamy, greatness. the exact circumstances in which atrocity occurs. how people rise into leadership and fall from grace. the consequences of success. i don’t know why this project has come to me, or what, if anything, it has to do with me. i’m not famous and have no intention of becoming famous; i don’t have social power or influence, at least not beyond my little corner of fandom, and i’m not interested in having it. and yet, here we are, already hundreds of thousands of words in.

my fics digging for orchids (tgcf) and a standing engagement (the hunger games) deal with the detriments of fame. and even float (breaking bad) to a degree is about the aftermath of being so close to power. my novel cherry pop, loosely based on macbeth, is about an ongoing power exchange between two teenage girls. my other novel, vandal, is about a girl who believes she has magic powers and casts a spell on her neighbor to fall in love with her. and i’m in the very early stages of a novel called groundswell, a cult story i’ve been wanting to write for years. i had no idea why i couldn’t write it until i realized it wasn’t yet my project. i’m not even to the stage of developing characters, let alone a premise or plot. i’m still just building my aesthetic pile (i discuss the aesthetic pile here, as well as vandal in more detail), watching documentaries on cults, reading books, finding inspiration, marking down ideas as they come. it may be years before i’m ready to sit down and write it.

now that i know what the project is, i have more patience with myself. it doesn’t bother me to rewrite a novel from the beginning, or to scrap novels altogether, because the story isn’t the project. the project cannot be diminished by cutting words, sentences, paragraphs, entire chapters. the project does not have a product. the project cannot be published. the project is in the practice, in dragging the impossibly large into clear, acute existence, so you can see it. so you can see the very center of what you thought was an unknowable thing.

#pinned #lkwrnl

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fanficsourcesx · 4 years

Text

Silence - Part One

Author: @fanficsourcesx Prompt/request: requested by anon -- Could you please do a Mitch writing? Say that the reader was kidnapped because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time and Mitch and Hurley raid the place finding her worn down and chained up maybe. They take her back to their headquarters and tend to any wounds she might have and wakes up not trusting anyone fighting with Mitch a little before realizing that he’s trustworthy. Eventually the reader trusts him enough to ask him to stay and sleep next to him and they end up kissing. TY!😊😘 Warning: cursing, angst, kidnapping, abuse, & I believe that is it! Pairing: mitch rapp x reader Notes: this story inspired something in me and it definitely deserves more than one part. I want to really capture the story between Mitch and the reader, so please forgive me for turning this into a little series!! I sincerely hope you enjoy it. also this fits quite well into @writingsbychlo mitch month (mitchtober) series so I wanted to tag you!!! I love your stuff. anyway, here it is folks. Words: 2,369

masterlist

The cold morning air grazed against my exposed skin and caused slight goosebumps to surface underneath the material of my clothing. The light purple sweater and tight jeans I had on weren’t a fair match to the dropping temperatures. I was here in Italy for a little vacation or more of a celebration since I had finished my final semester in college. I was meeting my other friends at the little coffee shop down the block from where they were staying. I should have waited till they were ready to walk over here but I liked having a few moments alone, especially somewhere as beautiful as here.

A soft grin pulling the corners of my mouth up as I went up towards the entrance and requested a table for four people. The streets nearby were a bit narrow, making it a bit quieter on that side of town since not many vehicles were driving by and given the early hours of the morning there weren't a lot of people nearby. Just a few occupying tables inside and a few others on their everyday strolls it seemed. Following the lady towards the table, I thanked her softly before taking a seat.

I was certain my friends would be here in a matter of minutes since the time we agreed on was approaching. Taking a look around, I noticed a dark haired male who didn’t appear to be Italian and I wondered if he was on vacation for the same reasons as myself. He had such an intense look in his eyes and he seemed to be focused more on his surroundings than the flaky croissant barely touched on his plate which was a shame because it looked rather delicious. He took a sip from the coffee cup in front of him and I decided I should mind my own business, turning my eyes back to my own surroundings.

As the waitress approached my table, I ordered a cappuccino and a croissant since I was inspired by the male across the street from me. When she left my view, I was a bit shocked to see him standing only a few inches away from where I was sitting. Eyebrows rose in confusion, hoping that my obvious staring didn’t encourage him to confront me. I wasn’t exactly the best in confrontational situations. Even though it seemed like he came over to share a few words, his eyes were scanning directly behind me.

In that moment though, I couldn’t help but notice how soft his features were. The honey brown eyes were striking enough but the several freckles that covered his face were very attractive. The way his tongue grazed his bottom lip ever so slightly and how his lips looked soft and rather inviting. He’s incredibly handsome and anyone would be able to notice that.

“Hi, sorry. I don’t normally do this but I’m Mitch. I saw you eyeing my croissant and I thought I should come and offer it to you.”

He laughed and it was a bit deeper than I would have guessed but the words were enough to crack a smile across my lips. I knew I shouldn’t have kept looking for as long as I did. A soft shade of red covered my cheeks as I avoided eye contact at first.

“Lucky for you I ordered my own, so you don’t have to share. Thanks for the offer though, Mitch. I’m Y/N.”

Just like that, the dynamic of this conversation switched as I heard tires screeching against the pavement behind me and I noticed his eyes widen. I nearly feared looking in the direction of his eyes because I didn’t want to see whatever was causing such a look on his features now. He looked panicked and uncertain. A feeling I was beginning to mirror as he tried to step closer to me, whispering in a low tone towards my ear.

“You need to run, Y/N. Please.”

I could see the seriousness in his eyes but that still didn’t take away the obvious shock my body felt as I was frozen to the chair. I didn’t understand what I was supposed to be running from. What the fuck was happening?

I dared to turn my head around to see what he saw but quickly my mouth was covered by a rather large hand. Then it felt like several arms were wrapping along my waist, using all their force collectively to remove me from the chair. I let my eyes fall on Mitch, who mouthed that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me but it was too late for that. What if he was a part of this somehow and decided to back out at the last minute and that’s why he suggested I run? Anything was possible at this point.

Regardless of how little I knew him or trusted him, it didn’t stop me from shouting his name against the stranger’s hand. Somehow hoping that one yell would save me from whatever my fate was about to be. I could feel the tears building up in my eyes and I truly never felt this scared in my entire life. I began digging my nails into the arms that had me by the waist and I tried to bite at the hand holding my mouth but nothing seemed to make a difference. Whoever this was had it planned out thoroughly and this wasn’t a battle I could fight on my own but that wouldn’t stop me from trying.

“No — no. NO! Fuck.”

I heard his voice echo in the streets as my body was thrown into the back of a dark colored van, one that didn’t have a single marking that would make it stand out amongst the others. That’s when the true panic set in, it’s in that moment of realizing he wouldn’t know where or how to find me. There were no other witnesses besides him and who am I to trust a person I didn’t really know.

Seconds later there was a soft cloth being thrown over my head and now any chance I had of watching the streets to gain some sense of where I was being taken was hopeless. Although I could feel the tears daring to fall, it wasn’t the time for it. I had to start thinking of a plan if I wanted to survive. Another set of hands were holding mine as some sort of rope was used to tie them together against the small of my back.

“Don’t let her move.”

I heard a deep voice say and I nearly winced at the tone. None of this added up. I didn’t know anyone here and it’s not like I ever involved myself in situations for it to lead up to this.

“What are we going to do about Mitch, boss? No way he’s going to let us just take off with his girl.”

His girl. They thought I was some sort of pawn in their game against Mitch but they had it all wrong. I didn’t even know who he was until about five minutes ago. I should have spoken up and let them know that taking me wasn’t going to benefit whatever plan they had but I said nothing. I knew it wasn’t in my best interest to speak because I still had no idea what these men were capable of. Feeling the van come to a sudden halt, it gave me a good indication that whatever our final destination was hadn’t been too far from where I was taken.

“You fucking idiot. That was the point of all this. We are setting the trap to take down Rapp once and for all.”

I swallowed the rather large lump beginning to form in my throat. I hardly knew this Mitch but I still didn’t want their plan to work — no one deserved to die except for these two idiots who can’t even kidnap the right girl. Hearing the slight crack of doors opening, I knew it was time to be moved to a new location now. Feeling the tug along my tied hands, one of the men began to guide me out of the van.

“Jump.”

He demanded as I trusted that the ground would be underneath me as I hopped out of the van, landing in a rather awkward stance as he jerked my hands and forced me to walk straight ahead. The cold air felt nice and for a second, I was able to breathe without having that heavy feeling in my chest but it quickly disappeared as the other kicked at the back of my calf to let me know I needed to hurry up. I must have been in public view and they needed to hide me. Fast.

The only sounds I heard was other people talking and slamming of car doors, nothing that would help me gain direction on where I was. We entered a building and I could only tell when the wind stopped touching the small bits of skin I had revealed. I had to hold onto the fact that I wasn’t going to be killed until at least Mitch showed up, since I was the bait or that’s what they thought at least.

“Take her over there.”

The male stated while pushing me towards another person in the room, now they had control over where my body was to end up next. In the distance, I heard what sounded like chains being rattled and an uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Suddenly the cloth was pulled off my head and the light from inside the building caused my eyes to squint, it was too bright after all the darkness I had surrounding me.

Glancing at the room around me, I saw nothing but a broken down vehicle that was separated into parts in the right corner. A bunch of windows that clearly had stones thrown through them, a somewhat large door that made her believe this used to be some kind of garage for a car mechanic shop and at least five other men crowding the space around her. It smelt old, wet, and like no one had cleaned the inside of this place for months.

I let out soft cough before a guy rather tall in size walked behind me, he began working on the ropes holding my hands together but I was stupid to even think he was doing that to let me be free. Instead he used that same material to bind my feet together, while leaning towards some of the chains hanging down from the ceiling. I shut my eyes for a moment, thinking if there was any way I could get myself out of this but it was me against five other people. It was fucking impossible.

I couldn’t be stupid about this otherwise I’d get myself killed in a matter of seconds. I heard a key being turned in a lock and the sound of it popping open sent chills down my spine. He grabbed for my wrist and for a second I went to pull it away but ultimately let him have his way. It wasn’t the time to fight right now and I had to stop that natural reaction from happening. He brought the metal and cold cuffs to my skin, latching it out both of my wrists and it immediately caused my arms to rest above my head.

It definitely felt like my shoulders were being popped out of the place, given how tight of a pull the chains were causing. Out of nowhere, the contact of a rather firm fist came down on my cheeks and hit directly on the bone. I whimpered quite loudly and those tears from earlier had no choice but to fall now.

“What the fuck was that —- “

It didn’t matter what I had to say because they didn’t want to hear a single word unless they asked for it and they made that obvious by coming in contact with my face once again. Basically hitting my cheek in the exact same spot. Fuck.

“Now that is my turn to speak — where the fuck is Mitch?”

Oh, fuck. Come on. I had absolutely no idea how to answer that, given I didn’t know a single thing about Mitch except for his first name and what he looked like. They were going to think I was lying if I said I didn’t know him but what else was I supposed to do?

“You better talk, bitch.”

Another person in the room demanded but I didn’t bother making eye contact, instead I focused on a greased stained spot on the floor. Just as I separated my lips to say a few words, I was cut off by someone’s boot kicking the side of my abdomen and I gasped for the little bit of air I had left. How the fuck did they want me to talk from a blow like that? Now I was starting to get pissed off — more than before.

“I don’t know a goddamn thing about Mitch and if you were smart, you’d already know that you got the wrong fucking girl.”

I managed to cough out the words since the pain in my side was beginning to rise rather quickly. It felt like my skin was on fire.

“Let me ask you again. Where the fuck is Mitch Rapp?”

I shut my eyes momentarily but this time when they opened, I decided to look at that motherfucker right in his dead and dark eyes.

“I. Don’t. Know.”

I witnessed his partially tattooed hand lift up in the air, making it accessible to use as a weapon against another part of my body but the sound of a door suddenly slamming open behind where I was chained up caused silence amongst everyone. A few of the men went towards the disturbance but the noise of a gun clicking forward, singling that it was fully loaded stopped the actions of everyone in the room.

I began to worry that someone else was here to use me as pawn in their game but hearing a somewhat familiar voice left me with mixed feelings. Was he actually here to do the saving or to finish the job these men had started?

“Well, would you look at that? I’m right here.”

Mitch said in a tone of voice that reflected heavy sarcasm and I began rattling the chains, hoping that some sort of movement would free my hands. I had to get the fuck out of here.

#mitch rapp #mitch rapp imagines #mitch rapp fanfiction #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagines #american assassin #american assassin fanfiction #american assassin imagines #mitchtober #mitch month #mitch tober

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

April Contest Submission #30: Break Me Off

Words: ca. 3,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: no CW: none

“Can I try yours?”

Elsa’s head snapped up from the book she was reading to look to her left. Her baby sister was looking expectantly, her small hand outstretched and waiting expectantly, fingers wiggling in a grabby motion.

“Sure,” she answered with a smile, and passed her barely started dark chocolate KitKat on to Anna. “I don’t think you’ll like it though.”

Anna ignored that statement and immediately put the candy bar in her ‘some teeth missing transition period’ mouth, and bit off a sizable chunk. She chewed for a few seconds before her chocolate-covered lips twisted in a grimace, and she threw the KitKat back in Elsa’s lap.

“Ewww,” she said once she finally swallowed the bite (she at least had the decency to not spit it out like she used to a few years ago, something Elsa could bet would drive their father nuts if she did it in the new car), then gave Elsa the dirtiest look ever. “It’s so bitter! Why are you doing this to yourself…”

The last words were said with an overly-dramatic flair as Anna put her hand up to her forehead and pretended to faint like an old-timey movie lady on an ottoman. Which would work much better if she wasn’t stopped by the seat belt.

“It’s not that bitter to me.” Elsa shrugged as she picked up the discarded KitKat and continued to eat it as if nothing ever mattered. “You just still have a baby palate,” she said around a mouthful.

Anna blew her a raspberry, and her gaze dropped to Elsa’s book. “Whatcha reading anyway?”

Elsa swallowed the KitKat. “Harry Potter.” She flipped the cover to show it to Anna, who immediately started tracing and mouthing the letters of the title. “The fifth part comes out next week, so I wanted to re-read it before then.”

“Can you read it to me?”

“Later,” she lowered her voice and glanced in the rear-view mirror at their father’s concentrated face. It wasn’t the best idea to read–and have Anna interrupt with her loud comments–while he was driving. “When we’re settled at the hotel, I’ll read some to you.”

+++

“Hey,” Anna whispered, leaning over the wide armrest so she could reach Elsa’s ear. “You wanna try a bite of mine?”

She offered her the obnoxiously white KitKat, and Elsa immediately took it, as if its glow-in-the-dark properties could be seen by the row behind them. Without thinking much, she chomped down on the half-eaten candy bar. The overwhelming sweetness exploded in her mouth and seemed to coat her tongue with a thick, fatty film.

“You like it?” Anna whispered again, absolutely disinterested in the screen, her eyes locked square on Elsa’s face. “It’s kinda sweet, but I think I dig the white chocolate.”

Fighting through the nausea, Elsa finally managed to push the saccharine mush down her throat. “It’s absolutely disgusting,” she whispered back, then chuckled at Anna’s betrayed face. “I can see why you’d like it.”

Anna opened her mouth to say something (presumably snarky, she was hitting that age) in return, but an angry shhh came up from behind them. Elsa glanced at the people sitting in the back row and mouthed a sorry.

She turned back to the screen and tried to catch up on what she’d missed from the movie. So far The Goblet of Fire was proving to be worse than the previous parts, but she still wanted to know how they managed to work out the lake task of the Triwizard–

When Anna opened her mouth again just a few seconds later, Elsa stuck the white chocolate KitKat in it.

+++

“Hey, tradition!” Anna screamed suddenly as Elsa unwrapped her finals-study-motivation KitKat, almost making her drop it. “Lemme try!”

Elsa blinked. This was just the dark chocolate variety, one that she was sure she’d already let Anna try at some point in her life.

“You already–” But before she could finish, Anna’s shark jaws locked around the still barely unwrapped candy bar in Elsa’s hand with a loud crunch.

She munched for a moment, a thoughtful look on her face as she was considering the flavor. It quickly gave way to a disgusted scowl.

“Ew,” she said with a fake gag. “It’s as bad as I remembered.”

So Elsa did let her try it before. She rolled her eyes and half-heartedly swatted Anna away.

With a devious snicker and a hurried good luck with the exam!, Anna skipped out of the room and left her alone to study.

Elsa shook her head and finally returned her attention to her long-awaited snack award.

For some reason, the sight of Anna’s glitter lip gloss on the dark chocolate made her stomach twist.

+++

KitKats turned out to be the best way to go through her finals that year, and the next semester, and the next next semester, putting in the required fuel, feeling of accomplishment and the calories missing from not having time to eat proper meals.

It was also one of her little pleasures to find and test new flavors, especially those not available locally. It was Anna’s little pleasure to never say she wanted to order some for herself, and instead take bites off of Elsa’s, ‘just in case I don’t like it and don’t wanna finish!’

And over time it was one of Elsa’s little pleasures to look at the print of Anna’s lips on the chocolate and tenderly place hers on top to match the shape.

That little pleasure turned into a major curse when she realized she was daydreaming about placing her lips on Anna’s directly.

From then on, she would only buy the 4 finger breakable Kits.

+++

“I don’t really like this one,” Anna said around a mouthful of the Ruby cocoa KitKat. “It looks super cute, but it just tastes kinda waxy.”

Elsa shrugged. “Honestly, it’s just like the regular, but pink.”

“No, it’s different.” There was no point arguing with Anna on that. While Elsa preferred to try out new flavors, Anna has always been a hardcore true fan and real connoisseur of the regular Kit, so all she could do was to believe the expert. The currently pouting, cutely irritated expert. “Do you wanna finish mine?”

Elsa’s blood froze.

The whole point of the 4 finger Kits (which she personally considered inferior as the ratio of chocolate to wafer was just not quite on par with the single stick) was to not kiss Anna by proxy. Is what she came to call it.

But Anna was holding out the pink KitKat with a darker pink lip gloss outline in her direction, looking at her expectantly.

“N-no, I’m fine,” she answered a little too quickly and in a little too nervous of a voice. “I don’t really like it either,” she lied.

Anna’s brows furrowed. “I thought you said it tastes like the regular to you.”

Elsa could feel herself sweat. Damn, the stupid act of sharing a KitKat, something they’ve done since they were little kids was making her sweat.

Probably precisely because they’ve been doing this since they were little kids. Growing up together. Being sisters. Who should not want to kiss each other, yet there Elsa was, looking away from Anna’s perfect cupid bow glossy lips like a teenager (which she was definitely not anymore, on the final stretch to obtaining her bachelor degree) in love.

Her own lower lip felt numb from biting down on it. Fuck, she was in love.

“Yeah, but you’re right,” she said, mouth dry. She was in love and she was just now realizing this because of a stupid Ruby KitKat. “It is waxy.” Stupidly good Ruby KitKat that she was going to deny herself because her sister’s lips touched it and she would burn in hell if hers did too. “Just toss it out.”

Anna’s face looked like she just told her she actually was planning to vote on Trump for the pure fun of it, but she didn’t say anything.

+++

“Hey, I’m just about to head out– oh is that a new one?”

Elsa almost dropped the half eaten candy bar on the floor. She was not expecting Anna to come in her room any time soon, and like the true disgusting goblin she was, she decided to partake in her secret stash of imported KitKats.

Her dirty little secret stash of single stick KitKats that she couldn’t find in 4 finger format, and thus could not ever, ever let Anna know about because even if she ordered two pieces of each kind Anna would refuse to try an entire bar on her own.

‘I mean, what’s the fun in that? Half of the joy of KitKats is sharing!’

Not really seeing any way out of that, Elsa admitted defeat. “…Yes.”

“Oh, cool!” Anna bounced over excitedly to drop down on the bed next to her. “Oooh, white chocolate and peach? So fancy! Is it from Japan? It looks about the size of the Japanese ones I saw online…”

Her pure, genuine excitement only made Elsa feel even worse about hiding in her room like Gollum with his ring. Then, right as she was reaching for Elsa’s KitKat, Anna’s face and hand suddenly dropped.

“Wait…”

Elsa gulped.

“…you… you were going to eat it without me, weren’t you?”

She focused on the pattern of her carpet.

“Oh my god, Elsa! You stinker!” Anna sounded full-on betrayed, and Elsa could honestly not blame her for that. “I thought KitKats were our thing!”

Elsa blushed, for many different reasons. “I-it’s not like that,” she started explaining herself, fully aware of how pathetic she sounded. “It’s just cause you never want a full KitKat of a new flavor and I couldn’t find them in the sharing format–”

“So? I didn’t know we were suddenly only allowed to share the break-apart ones.”

Elsa sighed. Right, to Anna it didn’t make any sense, because Anna was a normal person who didn’t fantasize about kissing her sister. Or flustered about indirectly kissing her. “I-it’s just easier to portion…”

“I’m pretty good at portioning a bite, thank you very much.” She still sounded a little miffed, but she did smile towards the end– right before her eyes turned very round and glistening. “Did you eat many without me?”

Holy shit, she was looking like the pleading emoji and Elsa was at her wit’s end. “No!” she denied quickly and truthfully. “I-I bought more, but this was the first one I was going to try…”

Anna crossed her arms.

“Aaand now that you know about it I guess there’s no point hiding,” Elsa continued sheepishly. “I’ll uh– I’ll go to the kitchen and cut you off a piece.”

She stood up quickly, holding the KitKat like a relay sprinter holds the baton, clinging on for dear life with the prospect of glory and escaping the rivals, or in this case escaping her sister before she could–

“Wait.” Anna’s hand was on her wrist and Elsa almost yelped. The rivals outran her and the finish line was nowhere in sight as she fell on her knees, defeated, and only metaphorically speaking as in real life she was just standing stiff in her place. “What? Just let me take a bite, it’s easier–”

“N-no,” she interrupted quickly, trying to pry the wrist away from Anna’s surprisingly strong grip. “Cause, uh– umm, that way I can make sure to cut in the middle and give you a fair share.”

Yes, that was a splendid save.

“I just want a bite, I’m not sure if I would like a whole half.” And a gloriously crushing response from the opponent. “Just let me–”

Her peach pink lip gloss would look amazingly fitting on the white chocolate and peach KitKat. Or on Elsa’s lips. Applied with her lips. On her lips. Kissing–

“No!” She yanked her hand away. Anna’s eyebrows shot up in shock, and Elsa realized she yelled that very loudly, even though she was mostly responding to her own dirty little secret thoughts. “I mean– I don’t wanna…”

What? What was she supposed to say to get out of this? There was literally no logical reason she could not be wanting to simply share the KitKat like they used to for so many years, aside from the obvious plague that was currently rotting her mind, but she could not tell Anna that–

“…are you disgusted by me?”

She said it in such a small voice, looking up from where she was sitting on Elsa’s bed with hands folded neatly in her lap, her big teal eyes glazed with a sheet of tears and Elsa’s heart broke into a thousand shards.

“Oh god, no!” Her hands moved on their own to grab Anna and pull her into a hug, but she stopped herself on the way, now with her hands awkwardly hovering at Anna’s eye level. “Why… no, I’m so sorry you would even think that, I–”

“Then what is it, Elsa?”

Fuck. Fuckity fuck shit fuck what was she–

“Just say it,” she damn near sobbed. “Out loud.”

“Your lip gloss,” she said in a flat voice, grasping at straws to not lie, but also not tell the truths. “It stays on the KitKat when you bite it.”

Anna’s eyes went wider. “You don’t like my lip gloss?”

Why the fuck was she sounding this hurt by the idea? “No, I–”

“I thought you said it looks good…”

“It does!” She could clearly feel herself getting flustered. “I like it, and it looks very good on your li– on you. Really good.” God, was she sounding as borderline creepy to Anna as she did to herself? “B-but it leaves a– a stencil of your lips on the…”

She trailed off, not really sure how to get out of the corner she just talked herself into.

Anna gave her a puzzled look. “So you don’t like… my lips?”

“No!” Jesus why was communication so difficult and why was the room so hot and why was Anna looking at her like this? “I love them. Like! I like them. I like. Them. Your lips. Like them.”

If Anna got up and called the ambulance right now because ‘my sister is having a stroke!’ Elsa would find it completely justified.

“Ookay…” Anna said slowly, not reaching for the phone, and instead continuing to try to read Elsa’s face (but what she could potentially read was that inside Elsa’s head there was a wind-up monkey puppet playing the cymbal, and nothing much beside that.) “So what is the problem?”

Elsa mumbled in response.

“I’m sorry?”

“It feels like we’re kissing,” she said weakly, absolutely giving up on her hopes and dreams in that instance. “When I bite the KitKat.”

Anna blinked at her. “That’s it?”

Elsa nodded.

“I mean, that’s all?”

It was Elsa’s turn to wear a confused expression.

“You’ve been getting only breakable KitKats for a year just so you could share with me without feeling like this?”

Elsa nodded again, albeit cautiously. She had no idea where Anna was going with this.

“And denying yourself flavors that don’t exist in that format so that I wouldn’t feel left out?”

Nod again.

“I’m sorry.”

Record scratch. “What? No, why are you sorry?”

“Because you were feeling uncomfortable because of me?”

“No, I– I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable knowing I want to kiss you.”

Wait, no– oh no no no no holy fuck no backtrack backtrack backtrack–

Her stomach sunk. There was no way to backtrack.

Red alert, escape the room.

Anna caught her hips before she could dash for the door and spun her around to face her again, this time meeting her at eye level. She reached for Elsa’s hand–which was currently hanging limply at her side, and still holding the goddamned half-eaten KitKat–and clasped it gently in hers, then brought it up until it was between them, right in front of Elsa’s mouth.

The scent of peach and white chocolate hit her before her brain registered the development.

“Bite,” Anna said softly, but with demand. “And hold.”

Elsa’s mouth opened on its own as her sister pushed the KitKat in, and obediently she clamped her teeth down on it–just enough to break the chocolate layer, but not all the way through.

She stood there patiently with the candy bar sticking out of her mouth, watching Anna remove the remaining wrapper as if her body was not hers to steer, as if she was just a passive observer as her mind was struggling to pick the pieces of what her sister was doing without going for what she really wanted Anna to be doing in her heart of hearts.

Once the wrapper was off, Anna climbed on her tiptoes and– Elsa could swear she saw her smirk right before the free end of the KitKat disappeared in Anna’s mouth, slowly, until their lips finally touched.

Their lips touched.

She was kissing her sister.

She was kissing her sister around a fucking candy bar.

And in just a few heartbeats she heard the tell-tale, trademark KitKat crunch as Anna’s teeth broke through the wafer, and with a final brush of her glossed lips she was off, leaving behind only a chunk of white chocolate and peach mousse in Elsa’s numb, speechless mouth.

“It looks good on you too,” Anna said with her mouth still full and gaze dashing between Elsa’s lips and eyes. “Bet it would be even better without the melted chocolate.” She swallowed down her bite, and let out a satisfied hum. “Mm, I like this one. Funny how the flavors work together so well… chew, Elsa.”

She brought her hand up to Elsa’s chin and pressed on it, and Elsa mechanically picked up the chewing motion, earning a delighted smile from her sister.

Anna glanced down at her watch. “Well, I gotta go. The sea and beach won’t run away, but my friends just might if I keep them waiting any longer.” She placed a soft, sticky kiss on Elsa’s boiling hot cheek. “But I’m really looking forward to trying the other flavors you got.”

With a wink, she pushed past her and out the door, leaving Elsa to deal with the lump (of KitKat) in her throat.

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

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kpopmalereader · 4 years

Text

prom ; lee chan

• summary: dino asks you to go to prom with him after your relationship builds • pairing: lee chan x male!reader • word count: 2049 • to do

You and Chan were never really friends. You weren’t enemies by any means, but you weren’t friends. You knew of each other. And that was about it.

When you finally truly met and got to know each other it was during your last year of high school. Both of you still needed volunteer hours and wouldn’t you know it, you signed up for the same service. You actually passed each other on the way to sign up.

Being surrounded by dozens of different types of animals while also getting service hours seemed like a pretty good deal to you.

Plus, the cute boy that walked in with his sweatshirt only on one arm was an added bonus.

You had your first conversation together when you were assigned to the front desk, signing in the animals and their parents. Anytime someone was not standing directly in front of you Chan’s mind would wander. He could get distracted by Computer the Cat and feed her treats in a steady stream until she left him. Or he would start to spin around in his chair until he was sick and dizzy.

And he became very close to you. Unbeknownst to you, he would ask to share the same tasks as you (no matter how meaningless or nasty) and he didn’t take much convincing from you to do anything you didn’t want to. You never noticed his want to spend more time around you or his willingness to do jobs every volunteer complained about if you mentioned not wanting to do them. You thought you noticed how often you were paired together but never thought it was because of Chan, instead thinking you were looking too far into things or that the person in charge thought you two were good friends.

You were becoming friends. In the process of starting a friendship.

At the beginning, it wasn’t obvious. You would nod at each other in the hallway. And he smiled at you once in the cafeteria while you were with his friends. You felt like you were on cloud nine the rest of the day, though you couldn’t pin down why you felt the way. After a little while of working together and getting to know each other while playing with and bathing dogs you started to say a few words in passing then he would end up by your locker before class and then if either of you were ever alone, you would keep each other company.

You met his friends. He met yours. They had questions but you both said you were only gaining a friend.

By the end of the first semester, your friend groups had mixed. Everyone knew of each other and acted friendly when able. You and Chan began hanging out after school and before going to the office. You learned his favorite color and his favorite animal, his favorite food, his life story, everything he told you, you absorbed.

By Valentine's day Chan was falling. He couldn’t help it. You seemed to care about everything. Every detail anyone else would pass up or forget, you remembered. The candy Chan mentioned one time? You bought it for him a month later. The song he hummed to himself while he was doing inventory? You told him you liked the artist a few days after.

It was really your fault. How could you show interest in him in these small ways no one else really had before and not expect him to fall?

The moment he really “fell” he’ll remember forever. Someone brought in an Orange Dream Ball Python. They said it wasn’t too old but they couldn’t take care of it and didn’t know what to do. You paged for one of the vets and asked the person to wait a minute but as you got the words out they dropped a writhing bag onto the counter and half-ran out of the office. With no hesitation you grabbed the bag and peeked inside, seeing that it did, in fact, look like some type of python. You brought it to the back and Chan followed. The vet was busy and couldn’t walk out but seeing the animal fight against itself in the cloth bag made your face morph into the saddest frown he’s ever seen from you. You stuck the bag in one of your hoodie’s pockets and went on a mission for some kind of cage for it. You found a small cage and took the lid off.

“What are you doing?” Chan’s jaw had long been on the floor.

You looked at him like he was the crazy one.

To you, the answer and solution was obvious, but to everyone else in the situation (only Chan), nothing was going to happen until an actual adult walked into the room.

He still looked very confused and a tiny bit frightened, so you spelled it out. “I’m going to let him out. I don’t know how long he’s been in there or if he’s hurt, where they got him from, I’m going to release him into the cage and let him slither around.”

You placed the cloth bag into the cage. Chan took three half-steps backward. The bag fell open and you slowly tug at the other end of it until the snake falls onto the plastic cage.

The snake isn’t too big. It’s sort of small. But it’s still a snake.

It balls up in the middle of the cage and hides in itself. Chan hears a small noise of adoration come from you and you sit in a chair, watching the creature closely.

“Hey, little guy. What happened to you?”

The vet gave clearance on the snake. Said it was what the owner said it was and that it didn’t appear to be injured. They had an enclosure for it and one of the techs was sent to get some extra supplies.

You became attached to him immediately. You set the little cage he was in by your station at the counter, checking in with him any time you could. Chan watched as you became more and more okay with the reptile until you had him quite literally wrapped around your finger. The “little dude” slithered over your hands and your keyboard, your smile growing bigger and bigger when he did anything at all.

And as Chan watched you interacting with the snake he felt enamored. You would look up at Chan and point excitedly and he was lightheaded. He wanted to spill everything about himself. He wanted to tell you every secret he’s ever had. And he might have if the head vet mentioned some patrons might be afraid of the snake. You frowned and hid him behind the desk, smile turning sneaky.

He didn’t say anything. Just felt every emotion possible.

You wanted to keep the little snake so bad. Came to school the next day with a pout, recounting to Chan exactly what your parents said about it.

You said Chan saved the day when he said you would know the whereabouts of the snake at the vet’s office.

Every day that passed once Chan’s feelings truly set in they only grew. Most of his friends were quickly let in on the secret and a few of your friends found out soon after.

His feelings came to a head before prom. Chan’s mind began to race when he watched everyone’s prom-posals begin. The more they happened the more Chan began to wonder if you were going to get asked. Or ask someone else. And the thought was unsettling to him. He didn’t want anyone else to think of going with you or for you to think of going with anyone besides himself.

Your best-friend was finally made aware of his feelings when Chan caved while planning the “perfect confession” and asked for advice. They would say they didn’t hold it over his head. Chan would disagree.

Chan took it as a compliment when they didn’t seem completely disgusted at the idea.

When he started planning, he also started preparing for the embarrassment he would endure if you were to say no. Embarrassment he did not plan for was the embarrassment in asking the head veterinarian for help and permission.

He hoped you wouldn’t notice the change in who you were working with throughout the day.

You did.

“Hey!” You stop halfway to turning the light in the stockroom off. Computer the Cat darts out between your legs and you hear the yelp of one of the nurses in his path. “Didn’t see you there.”

His attempt at not being suspicious is anything but good. “Hello.”

“You weren’t at the front desk with me today,” You scrunch your face and lean against the door. “You know how awkward the silences are when you’re not close to the person you’re working with? I’ll answer it for you. Very. It was awful and as far as I’m concerned it’s all your fault.”

He scratches the back of his neck and pushes the stack of paper towels to the left. “Sorry. I asked if I could do more work alone today. I guess I should have warned you.”

You shrug your shoulders and let the door close. You sit on the stool he was using earlier. “It’s not like a real problem or anything. I just missed you. Is everything okay?”

Your genuine concern and thoughtful expression eat away at him until his straight expression breaks into a light chuckle and smile. “Yeah. I just had some stuff on my mind today. It’s okay, promise.”

You nod and jump up, going out of your way to bump your shoulder into his on your way to the door. “Well, if you get tired of doing inventory or being alone, come see me. I’ll ignore more of my work to talk to you.”

“I’m sure I’ll see you later.”

Chan breathes out and bangs his head against the metal shelves as the door closes behind you. He shuts his eyes tightly, rethinking every step of his plan.

With an hour and a half left of the day with no attempt at the plan happening every time the head vet passes Chan, constant watch-tapping occurs.

Chan sees you cleaning out one of the cages and sets his plan into motion. He pours a few cat treats into a bowl and corrals Computer the Cat into an empty exam room. She tolerates Chan enough for him to set up his sign. He adds more food to her bowl to keep her in place and walks out of the room.

He catches you as you’re washing your hands, the smaller dog cages fully cleaned and redecorated. “Hey,”

“Hello.” You flick some of the water on your hands at him and smile.

“Have you seen Computer?”

“I saw her earlier, why?”

“She was acting kind of strange earlier; I didn’t know if you noticed anything different.”

You pout slightly and shake your head. “No, where is she? What was she doing?”

Chan leans back into the door. “She keeps sneaking off into Room Three.”

“Poor thing, I wonder if she’s okay.” You walk into the hallway, leaving him to pick his heart off of his shoe.

You moving towards his surprise forces him to recover. He follows behind you, breathing in raspy breaths.

You walk into the room, looking up to first see Computer eating then seeing the sign. “Prom?” is written in big letters and you turn around quickly.

Chan smiles at you with one of his eyebrows raised. A white rose is in his hand and he holds it out to you. “I don’t know if I can handle asking but I will if you want me to.”

“You don’t have to ask again.” Your ears go pink and your smile grows as you take the flower from him. “Thank you and… yes. Yes. I will go to prom with you.”

He laughs and nods his head. “Great, good. Yeah. Okay.”

“I didn’t think you were going to ask me. I was hoping but didn’t think you would.”

“You were hoping?”

“Obviously.” You smell the flower and shake your head.

He scratches the back of his neck and rocks up on his toes. “Thank you. Prom.”

“Prom.” You repeat.

#seventeen #kpop #kpop scenario #seventeen x reader #male reader #seventeen imagine #seventeen scenario #dino #lee chan #kpop male reader #kpop x reader #kpop x male reader #seventeen male reader #dino x reader #dino x male reader #dino x male!reader #lee chan x male reader #lee chan x male!reader

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lacheri · 3 years

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i don’t know if your event is still open since it is already past time from your deadline but the event in ypur navigation says otherwise so i am betting my luck ≡^ˇ^≡

i am INFJ-T, and i am a pisces ☉ scorpio ☽. i use she/her. i love to have mutual pinning trope with reiner braun. i’m someone who is studious and sometimes i based my worth to my grades LMFAO i like earth tones. i love cooking and singing, too! my love languages are words of affirmation and acts of service!

thank you for creating this such beautiful event 🤍

hi mono! I hope you like it angel! <3 (also this is so funny I literally started this the day you submitted and before I navigated through your (now old) theme, at least it's ON BRAND)

The Moon: everything looks prettier under the moon's glow. this is the card for the subconscious, for the dreamer, for hidden thoughts and feelings. this card has many different meanings, anxiety and fear lace the moon as well, but I like to interrupt this as a positive sign when it appears in a reading. it provides a dreamy cast on all things that fall under its light. this card just makes so much sense to me with you being an infj, someone who's filled with imagination and insightfulness.

ivy - frank ocean. "If I could see through your walls, I could see you're faking. If you could see my thoughts, you would see our faces."

If there were words to describe him, they escaped every corner of your mind. His blonde hair curled outwards in flicks against the nape of his neck, begging for your fingers to reach out and entangle themselves in the strands. You knew he’d be going to get it cut within the week, he always did when it grew out to be this long. Still, you could admire him, even if you were staring directly into the back of his head, daydreaming away of your could be love.

“Pass the quizzes back!” Professor Hange called out from the front of the room, handing out large stacks to the front rows of students.

You sat back in the fifth row, directly behind Reiner Braun, the theoretical love of your life. Had you even spoken more than two sentences to the man? Absolutely not. Did you know his favorite flavor of gum was spearmint, and he never could keep a pencil on his person? Of course, he asked you every single day.

It wasn’t like Reiner had a well known reputation or anything, in fact he floated like a social butterfly between so many different groups of people, it was hard to dislike the guy. He always had a charming smile on his face and a kind word to say. It didn’t take much to develop your small crush on the man sitting in front of you, and although he was mostly silent while in class, his eyes would swirl with concentration whenever you’d catch his line of view.

The sight of his sharp jawline came into your field of vision as he turned, resting one arm on the back of his chair as he met your eyes, palm extended with your paper, “Here ya’ go.”

“Thank you,” you managed to smile, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear before reaching forward, passing back the rest of the stack to the student behind you.

“I’m sure you did great,” he offered a small smile when you turned back around, the genuine kind that had your heart fluttering in your chest. “You always do.”

“I’m sure you did too,” you responded shyly, diverting your gaze to the paper now in front you, smiling as your eyes scanned the contents. A perfect score, just as you had hoped.

Reiner hadn’t completely turned around yet, darting his eyes between you and his own quiz, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Record officially broken, “Sure, what’s up?”

“Do you think you could help me out with this class?” his eyes were shifting all over the room, his usual confident façade in tatters. “I don’t understand a single thing about biology.”

“Um,” your eyes widened dramatically, a cold sweat breaking out under your clothing. No way, there was literally no way this was actually happening.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to,” you saw the twinge of pink rise on the apples of his cheeks as his fingers lifted to scratch the back of his neck. “I can pay you too.”

“No, no,” you shook your head furiously, forcing words passed your teeth. “You don’t have to pay me. When did you, uh, want to do this?”

“I guess after class if you’re not busy,” his eyes flickered to the clock above the whiteboard on the wall. Please say yes, he chanted in his mind.

“No, not really. That works for me,” You'd be calling out of work right now if you had a job, cancelling any and all plans to take full advantage of this golden moment. One that had played in your head the entire semester, living in your daydreams while you ogled the blonde with a fluttering heart.

“Cool,” Reiner bit down on his bottom lip as he smiled, readjusting himself to face forward as Professor Hange began to lecture the class about their pitiful grades.

“Cool,” you breathed out, feeling a sense of relief now his eyes weren’t directly on you. If you only knew how Reiner’s heart thumped in his ears, how that smile never left his lips. He’d been working up the courage to ask you that all semester.

The library was nearly empty after the sunset, the perfect scene for your tutoring session with the ever handsome Reiner. It took all of your willpower to stay focused on the textbooks sprawled on the table in front of you, and not the warmth radiating from his body as he sat next to you, his knee brushing against yours.

“Okay, so what’s the difference between mitosis and meiosis again?” you whispered, feeling the gnawing tingle of sleepiness behind your eyelids.

Reiner broke the contact from the page in front of him, you could feel his breath hit your cheeks bones as he muttered, “Mitosis has four stages while meiosis has eight. The chromosome numbers are the same in each one though.”

“No, just mitosis stays the same,” you turned your head to the old book in front of you, pointer finger trailing the sentence as you corrected him. “The daughter cell is halved in chromosomes in meiosis. Both produce new cells and start with a single parent cell.”

“This makes no sense,” Reiner groaned, placing his head in his hands.

This plan seemed a lot better in his head, allowing the perfect opportunity to get close to you, to hold a conversation. He’d turn around almost every day of class and ask to borrow a pencil, just to talk to you. He felt bad when he’d begin to turn in his chair just to see you already extending one out for him. So, Reiner moved on to offering you gum every day. This also became the expected, and you began placing a foiled covered stick on his desk as you’d walk into class every day.

You were just so smart and so pretty, there was absolutely no way he stood a chance. He lacked the brains, lacked the courage, not to mention he didn’t have any outstanding features. Sure if he was incredibly handsome he could at least try to dumbly pull you, ignorantly stumbling over half assed compliments and actions. But he was too self aware, feeling small next to your figure. He was out of ideas, and found that he was using his last ditch efforts to finally make his move.

“Here, I’ll make you some flash cards,” you offered, taking a sharpie and some loose index cards from your school bag.

“Do you think we could do this more often?” Reiner mumbled out suddenly, a fierce blush threatening the tips of his ears. “The, uh, study sessions? I’m really lost.” He just wanted to spend more time with you.

“Yeah, of course,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, avoiding his gaze at all costs.

“Cool,” he breathed out, a weight lifted off of his chest. “I’m usually free after class most days, maybe we could like, get food tomorrow?”

Reiner was sweating awaiting your answer. He’d been building up the courage for weeks now to ask to be in your presence, and he felt as if he might’ve been pushing his luck. Of course, you didn’t feel this way at all, almost in a stupor that your crush had even asked to spend more time with you.

“Okay,” you smiled so softly, Reiner could feel the red heat reach the apples of his cheeks. “There’s this really cool diner in town, I’ve been dying to go.”

“The retro one? I’ve been there a few times, it’s pretty cool, and the food is really good,” C’mon Reiner find another reason to keep her attention, “Are you busy tonight, we can go now?”

You glanced down to your outfit, and deemed it cute enough to go out in public, “You sure? I don’t want to hold you up if you have plans.”

Reiner couldn’t pack his bookbag faster, fingers clumsily fumbling all the notes he had taken during your study session, “I’ll call an Uber right now.”

It was like you had known Reiner all of your life. If someone were to pass by the diner’s windows that night and saw the two of you, shoveling food into your mouths and sipping on milkshakes, they could’ve sworn that you were dating, deeply in love. The way you both leaned in across the table, toes centimeters away from touching under the booth, fingertips so close on the table, it was almost a sure sign. Reiner of course wouldn’t have worked up the courage to officially ask you out until your sixth study session, almost at the end of the semester. And of course you said yes, brain malfunctioning at the admittance of his feelings.

When you met Reiner’s closest friends, Bertholdt and Annie, he introduced you as “the smartest, prettiest girl in the whole world”, and had gotten a little too enthusiastic when asked how the two of you met.

“We had a class together and I drooled over her every single day, and finally got the courage to ask her out,” not exactly the truth, you’d think as he’d recite the story. He was leaving out how badly you had pined over him as well. Almost in denial, Reiner genuinely couldn’t believe he had somehow managed to capture your heart from the very beginning.

It seemed as if your feelings for Reiner only deepened and blossomed under the weight of your new relationship. You had only begun to scratch the surface, and you fell so deeply in love with the blonde as time moved forward. Maybe it was the universe calling to you when you had first met him in your biology class, or maybe you were just meant to be soulmates. You’d say exactly that too when your friends would ask you how the two of you got together.

There wasn’t a better matched couple, the friends would think. Strangers would agree too, catching the sight of your conjoined hands together and loving gazes and you’d sit in that diner, night after night, study sessions in the library. It had to be fate, you decided in the end. Reiner was everything you ever wanted and more, even better than the daydreams you had conjured while you stared at the back of his head. Reiner felt exactly the same, and he told you every single day how you were the best thing to ever happen to him.

#lacheri's 200 follower event #WOOOOO THIS TOOK A MINUTE TO WRITE #i hope u like it mono <3

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