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betterthanburrow · 11 months

Note

Garnet!! Love all of the prompts

Garnet - Joe Burrow

Crystal Representation: Passion

Genre: Fluff (with a little bit of Angst)

“I know I say it a lot, but I really do adore you.”

There aren’t enough words in the dictionary to be able to describe how awful of a day it was at your job today.

As an elementary school teacher to your 4th grade class; most of the time, you enjoyed the work day by being able to teach your students the basic school subjects and have fun getting to see them grow and learn… It was very rare throughout the school year that there would be a bad day, but today was one of the rare days where you would have a bad day with your class.

The morning started off rough with you sleeping through all the alarms you set the night before and only have 15 minutes to get ready and rush out the door to be able to make it onto school campus before all of your students… When it finally came time for you to start teaching the lesson plans; your students were very unmotivated to listen as you were trying to get them to be excited for what they will be learning next in their workbooks when they return after spring break.

The day only got worse by lunch-time when you realized that you forgot to bring your lunch to school and since you weren’t allowed to leave school campus (unless it was an emergency), you had to eat the school lunch which was one of your least favorite school meals so you barely ate a meal and was starving for the rest of the day since your snack drawer was empty.

For the rest of the school day; your students were loud and couldn’t keep still in the desks while you tried to teach, you knew that they were excited for the upcoming spring break but they didn’t give the right to misbehave in your classroom… By the end of the school day, you felt like today was a very unproductive day for you as a teacher because barely any school work was done and now your students have homework to do over the break that is now a graded assignment.

By the time you got home after the 8 hour work day; you couldn’t even be excited about the start of spring break because of the pounding ache in your head… You didn’t even go start a conversation with your fiancé and instead went straight to the bedroom to get into comfy clothes then into your bed so you could try and get rid of the headache before it gets worse.

It was always a routine that when you get home from work, Joe and you would have a conversation in your kitchen about the day before deciding on what to eat for dinner… So when your fiancé knew that you were home but didn’t come into the kitchen to have a conversation, he knew that something was wrong.

“Sweetheart… is everything okay?!” Joe asks as he slowly opened the bedroom door to see that you laying laying face down on the bed in total darkness with the curtains closed and the nightstand lamp turned off.

When Joe walked to the other side of the bedroom, he opened the curtains to let a little bit of light into the room just to be able to see you but not enough light to disturb you… Then, Joe sat by you on the bed as he rubbed your back to try and give you comfort as he waited for you the answer his question.

“Today was the WORST day of the school year!” you exclaimed as you turned your body over to look at Joe. “I know the kids were so excited about spring break… but they were so disrespectful, they wouldn’t listen to me and on their worst behavior throughout the day.”

“I’m sorry you had a bad day today with your class.” Joe said. “Like you said, the kids were excited for spring break… but that isn’t an excuse for how they acted in your classroom today.”

Since the beginning of the school year; you’ve talked to your fiancé about how good your class of 4th graders were and how they were always on their best behavior, so it was definitely a surprise to hear that you had a bad day with your class today.

“It just sucks because today was supposed to be a fun day… but it ended up just being the worst day.” you say as you sat up from your spot on the bed and leaning your head on Joe’s shoulder as he wraps his around you to bring you close to him for comfort.

Joe looked at the digital clock on the nightstand to see that it was past 4pm and then suddenly, an idea came to his mind. “There is 9 more hours of the day, so how about you and I have a movie marathon night to hopefully make today a better day?” Joe asked.

You lift your head from Joe’s shoulder and smile, just the thought of having a movie marathon night with you fiancé already is making you day better.

“Really… A movie marathon night?!” you exclaim, Joe nods his head and you pull him into a hug.

“I love you so much!” you say, squeezing him into the hug to the point where Joe almost couldn’t breathe.

“I love you too” Joe replied as he pulled away, taking a second to get his breathing pattern back on track. “Now, you rest up for a bit… I’ll order food from our favorite restaurant and set up the living room for a movie night. And before you ask me, yes you can choose the movies that we watch tonight… even if it’s movies that we’e watched multiple times already.”

“Really?!” you ask. Joe nods his head and gives you a kiss on the forehead before softy pushing you to lay back down on the best.

“Get some rest and I’ll wake you up when the food is here and the living room is prepared.” Joe whispers, as he lays the throw-blanket on top of you and kisses your forehead as your eyes are starting to flutter shut.

Joe closes the curtains so that the bedroom is dark and quietly walks out of the room to start preparing for your movie marathon night as quietly as he can without waking you up from your afternoon nap.

After 4 hours, everything for the movie marathon night was finally set up. Joe didn’t think that it would take hours to get everything set up but the truth is that he didn’t start setting up immediately after leaving the bedroom… Joe knew that you needed rest after the long day you had, so he knew this would be one of your longer naps, but as it was getting closer to dinner time that’s when he started setting everything up.

As Joe was examining the fort in the living room, he was so focused on making sure that everything was perfect for the movie marathon night… From the fort he spent so much time making sure it was secure so that the blankets wouldn’t fall on top of the both of you to the food from your favorite restaurant that had just been delivered being plated on the coffee table.

Joe didn’t hear your footsteps walking towards him and only noticed when he heard your gasped in surprised at the transformation of your living room… When he turned from his spot to look at you, his smile grew bigger seeing your surprised expression at the hard work he put into the movie marathon night.

“Joe… you did all of this… for me?!” you ask, still looking around at the transformation of the living room into the fort just for the two of you to enjoy the movie marathon night.

It made you a little emotional seeing the hard work Joe put into making the fort in your living room because it reminded you of the memory of one of your first dates with Joe when the two of you had a rearranged your date night due to the weather… Instead of going to the park for a picnic, the two of you had decided to have a movie marathon night in a fort in the living room of your apartment and it started a tradition of the two of you having movie marathon nights with a fort.

“Yes I did all of this for you Sweetheart.” Joe says walking over to give you a hug. Your arms wrap around his neck as you bring him as close to you as possible.

The two of you sway in the hug for a moment before you pull away a bit with your arms stilled wrapped loosely around his neck while his arms are still tight around your waist… You look up at your fiancé and say, “I know I say it a lot, but I really do adore you.”

“You do say it a lot.” Joe says. “But I really do adore you too.”

You give Joe a quick kiss on the lips, not wanting to take things to far to the point where there wouldn’t be any way for the two of you to stop once things start… When the two of you pull away from the hug, Joe softly grabs your hand to lead you into the living room where the fort is set up with your food.

“Are you ready to get our movie marathon night started?!” Joe asks as the two of you sit down right in front of the food that is set up on the coffee table.

“I’m ready!” you exclaim. “Let’s get our movie marathon night started!”

For the rest of the night, the two of you enjoyed the first night of your spring break by eating the delicious from your favorite restaurant in Cincinnati and watching all of the movies that had been on your watch-list for months because you never had time until now to watch movies with your fiancé.

As the movie marathon night was coming to end because of how tired Joe and you were getting after watching movies for many hours… You look over to the digital clock on the table stand to see that it’s 4am and the memory of the past 24 hours comes to mind.

From a day that you thought there weren’t enough words in the dictionary to describe how terrible the day was because your 4th grade class’ behavior… to becoming a day that will become a memory with your fiancé for you to remember forever, you couldn’t have asked for a better way to start the spring break.

Author’s Note:

one of the reasons why i wanted to start writing requested prompts is so that i can write more fluff stories with little to no angst because this is the kind of fanfiction content that i love to read!

if you want to request a prompt; please check out the Important Announcement post on how to request the Crystal Prompts!

thank you all for the love and support! 🤍

#Joe Burrow #NFL #Cincinnati Bengals #Joe Burrow Fanfiction #Joe Burrow Fanfic #Joe Burrow Fic #Joe Burrow x Reader #Joe Burrow x OC #Joe Burrow x Y/N #Joe Burrow OneShot #Joe Burrow Imagine #Joe Burrow Instagram #Joe Burrow Instagram AU #NFL Instagram #NFL Fanfiction #Requested Prompt

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shyvioletcat · 9 days

Text

~ MASTERLIST ~

While we wait for Taylor Swift to break our hearts, thought I might dabble a bit in that myself. We get a bit of insight into Rowan this chapter and I lent into canon a little bit. This is the *ADVICE* prompt thanks to @throneofglassmicrofics.

CW: Off page character death

~~~~~

Rowan liked his new house, it was practical, easy to maintain and the neighbourhood turned out to be nicer than he was expecting. The street was quiet, nothing more than the occasional backyard party disturbed him the nights after work or on the weekends. Unless he fully committed to choosing the true life of a hermit and hid away far off in the mountains, Rowan couldn't escape all human contact. And besides his purposefully casual interactions at work and the obligatory check-ins with his friends and family he was managing to avoid the unnecessary kinds. He’d been informed more than once that this outlook wasn’t healthy, but it was how he managed. Especially today.

Today marked three years to the day the life he had known shattered into pieces. Time had dulled the constant ache, but this date still haunted him. Rowan had moved here once the haze had cleared enough that he had the drive to seek out a new job and a new start. Or he might just have been running away, his personal reasoning usually depended on his mood.

It had been like any other day, Rowan was making dinner waiting for his wife to get home when the phone had rung. In the middle of stirring the butter chicken that Lyria had specially requested out of the blue, he hadn’t bothered to note who the caller was. His blood ran cold at the first words: this is Doranelle General Hospital. After that he was given the instructions that he needed to get to the hospital as soon as he could.

The drive went by in a blur, but he’d got there. When he gave his name received a look that was full of sympathy and he knew. Rowan knew right then and there but he forced himself into denial. It was hard to ignore when a doctor rounded the corner next and led Rowan to a private room to tell him the devastating truth.

There was a car accident.

Lyria had died.

She was pregnant.

Rowan had sat there, stunned, devoid of feeling, because of the one little fact that he didn’t know. Lyria was pregnant, she was pregnant and she hadn’t told him. Rowan had left the hospital a broken man and three years later he still hadn’t been able to piece himself back together.

It was a rare thing for Rowan to take a day off work, but that was for the better. His mood was foul and people didn’t deserve to have that inflicted on them. Each year it got better—no, easier—and he didn’t know if it was a bad thing or a good thing. The shame and guilt of not being there when he should have would plague him forever.

To keep the demons at bay he chose running. This was his fourth lap around the block, everytime he had approached his front yard he’d told himself one more, he wasn’t ready to go home just yet. So he pushed himself for another, then another, and despite the burning in his lungs and the lagging of his feet he might just go around again. Rowan might just have if his neighbour pulling into her driveway hadn't pulled him up. He slowed down to a jog when he saw the car approaching the driveway so she wouldn’t have to stop for him.

It had been about a month since their first interaction and they hadn’t had another since. She remained the only niggling irritation Rowan had with living here. This woman had come at him so viciously and he was still feeling the need to defend himself. He had watched her almost drop her baby just to get the bins down to the curb. Anyone with any sense would have accepted the help instead of making a point.

That irritation rose when she slowed down so much that Rowan basically had to stop on the path. He got it, he really did, but anything and everything got to him today. In the end he used this as an excuse to go home. Maybe he could force some food down and see if he could sleep off the rest of his mood. Rowan walked on the path in front of her lawn and as he took out his earbud he caught sight of her waving him down. Confused, he stopped just watching as his neighbour walked across the grass.

“Hi,” she said tightly, obviously not pleased about the conversation she had been the one to start.

Unable to do much else, Rowan matched her energy. “Hi.”

Those unusual eyes narrowed at him, and not wanting to be the focus of her ire he shifted his attention to the baby she was holding. It was a mistake. Looking at her was like a shot to the chest. She had brown eyes and hair, her tiny fist was curled from where it clung to her mother’s shirt. What sent him staggering was that this child’s colouring was so similar to Lyria’s. An ill-timed reminder of what could have been. His neighbour talking gave him something else to focus on.

“I snapped at you, I’m sorry,” she said.

The scoff he made was involuntary, as were the words that came out of his mouth next, no chance to temper them against his anger. “It must have been so hard to track me down. It’s been a month. You’ve had plenty of chances to apologise before now.”

The woman all but reared back, at this point Rowan didn’t care about the verbal lashing he was going to get.

“Take my advice,” she all but hissed, shifting the baby in her arms—shifting her away. “Don’t be a dick when someone’s trying to apologise.”

That was their conversation done, the still nameless woman stomped across her lawn and into the house, the front door not quite slamming but obviously closed with some force. Rowan was well aware all he had done was add fuel to the fire, and it shouldn’t have bothered him as much as he did. He didn’t have the energy or time for this, the best thing for him to do was ignore his volatile and irksome neighbour. Something that would be more than easy for him to do.

~~~~~

After copious amounts of editing I only went over by 42 words, which is a pretty good effort.

#rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass microfics

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daydream-cement · 1 year

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i absolutely love ur fanfic, they r just so good, please never stop writing them! ♥️ i have a little request if you could possibly write a oneshot where larissa and fern have a serious argument in fern’s classroom. and then the next day she gets called to larissa’s office where larissa attempts to apologise but fern is still unhappy/mad and wants to be alone. then another argument occurs within the office but as fern states something that really pushes larissa over the edge, larissa can’t help but get closer to her to show who has more ‘control’ but u can guess where i think this could go. 😭 maybe larissa looks fern in the eyes and warns her but then this is where they just can’t ‘let go’ of each other. thank u smmm and honestly, i love ur work so much!!

Over the Edge

Larissa Weems x OC (Fern Rogers)

Authors Note: Sorry if you wanted smut anon. I love this prompt, but ya smutty author isn't feelin' too smutty rn so you get fluff? or is it healthy communication? or is it neither? maybe just fighting? who knows? NSFW at end.

"Excuse me? Would you like to teach my class instead?" You glare at Larissa as you try to keep your angered breathing under control. Larissa had just stated that she found your teaching methods unruly and ineffective. You knew for a fact that many of your students were now finding interest in plant sciences when they previously found it a droll subject.

Larissa's jaw was clenched as she picked her next words carefully, so you continued talking before she could stop you, "I think I have a perfectly fine grip on my classroom. Thank you!"

"Two students were nearly eaten by a carnivorous plant today!" Larissa shouted back in response.

"Oh, please. They were fine! Even if they were eaten, the decop process takes hours." That was not the correct answer, but you could care less. You were dedicated to winning this argument.

"Honestly, Fern!"

"Honestly, Larissa!" You were acting so childish and you knew it. She just made you so angry sometimes. Larissa's hands were on her hips as she stared down at you. By her heavy breathing, you knew that she could have killed you on the spot for acting like one of the students.

"I'm not talking to you about this anymore."

"Great. Didn't want to talk about it with you anyway!" You shout as she walks out of the greenhouse.

-----

That night you stayed with Rowan, not wanting to go back and continue the fight with Larissa. You couldn't sleep, however. You were absolutely fuming. How dare she speak to you that way? Just because she is your boss doesn't mean she knows how to run your classroom.

After an hour or so of you complaining about Larissa's controlling nature, Rowan told you to call your mother or talk to someone else about it. Repeating multiple times that both of you were being hurtful and ridiculous.

It was late in the afternoon the next day when you received a call to your classroom phone that your presence was requested in Larissa's office. There was a large portion of you that wanted to not show up, just to stir the pot and piss her off more. You decided to listen to the angel on your shoulder rather than the devil and you headed up to her office.

She was waiting for you, seated on the front of her desk with her arms folded over her chest, "Dr. Rogers."

You roll your eyes as you close the door, annoyed by her fake formality. You turn on your heels and offer her the same in return, "Principal Weems."

You see her jaw shift back and forth as she tried to read you. Her next words shocked you, "I'm sorry, Fern. Last night, I said some really hurtful things an-"

You didn't want to hear it. You still wanted to fight an you still wanted to be angry, "Yes, you called me ineffective and naïve. You insulted my teaching style when I am a damn good teacher."

"That's not what I meant and you know that." Larissa spat back. If you wanted to yell and get angry, she could certainly match your energy. You begin walking towards her, the anger rising in you.

"Do tell what you really meant, Principal Weems. I'd love to hear your perspective on managing a classroom of various outcast children. Oh, wait. You only have three years classroom experience from 15 years ago! What would you know?" You wanted to shove the words back in your mouth as soon as you said them. That was crossing the line and you knew it.

"You little..." Larissa moves off her desk and stands over you. You sometimes forget that she is over a foot taller than you. Her breath is ragged and her hands rested on her hips. You could tell that she was struggling to find the words, "Watch it."

"What are you going to do?" Again you wondered why you couldn't just keep your mouth shut.

"You are driving me absolutely mad." Her tone was different. She was making you nervous. Larissa's looming presence was unrelenting and your mind began to wander. Her dominating presence and heaving chest was reminding you of all the unspeakable things she could do to you. Her hand came up to your throat and you felt yourself involuntarily lean into her grasp, "I simply don't know where you get the audacity to speak to me like that."

You lick your lips, searching for the right words. Was it time to apologize? You felt you anger lower from a boil to a simmer, but you were having trouble reading Larissa.

"Fern Rogers. I swear... Never in my life have I had a teacher speak to me like this before." The grip on your throat tightened and she used her thumb to raise you chin so you would be forced to look at her. You felt like a deer in the headlights. It was similar to the nervousness you felt when you first started seeing each other.

The words spill from your mouth, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"Larissa, I'm sorry. I just got so mad and then I said some things that weren't right. I just-"

"Fern..."

"I know. It wasn't right for me to say you are inexperienced. You are a deeply talented educator and I-"

"Fern..."

"Let me finish, I just think-"

"Fern, I need you to be quiet because I'm going to kiss you now."

You cock your head, face filled with confusion as Larissa's lips crash against yours. Her hand moves away from your neck so it can cup your face. She was the one to deepen the kiss, her arm wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.

When she pulled away, your lips chased hers, seeking more. Larissa's voice was sickly sweet, "We are going home where I can fuck your brains out and we are never going to speak to one another like this again."

#larissa weems x oc #larissa weems #wednesday netflix #stately sequoia #the cedars have eyes #violet and rose #fern rogers #fanfic #oneshot

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finniestoncrane · 10 months

Text

Your One True Nemesis

Chapter 29: also on AO3 Masterlist Here Arkham!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 2k this man can fit so much angst and self-loathing in the guise of egotism in him 💚 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: angst and pining

It was almost noon by the time you woke up. Everything felt more casual now. Like you’d passed a point in your relationship with Eddie, if that’s what you could call it. Perhaps a better term was arrangement. But either way, it felt like you could be yourself a bit more, stand up for yourself. If you wanted to take the morning to catch up on sleep, then you would. What was Eddie going to do? Dislike you more? Insult you more? Maybe he’d apologise again like he did the other day.

As you remembered that moment, you replayed it in your head. Had he meant it as a genuine apology? A statement of regret, for how he had made you feel. Or for how he had made you react to his words. Was he sorry that you had gotten angry with him? Uttering the word in confusion and shock at your sudden ability to speak up. Or was he simply excusing himself? He left the room immediately once he had uttered that one word, so there was every chance that he was just making a polite exit from a situation he either no longer wanted to be in or felt he was above, or both.

Stepping out of your room, you entered the living space, shocked to find Eddie sitting at the table with his breakfast. Obviously, in your absence, he would have had to prepare his meals for himself. He did it all the time before he knew you, so it wasn’t entirely ridiculous to assume he could do it himself, but it felt like you had been replaced, almost. That one of the few things you could, or did, do for him was no longer needed. Trying to avoid any awkward or confrontational conversations, you poured yourself a coffee and sat down at the table across from him.

“I’ll make lunch today.”

“Yes. That would be a good idea.”

He didn’t look at you, he didn’t even look up, and you couldn’t contain your irritation with his flippant attitude.

“You know, you could just say thank you.”

“For what? The bare minimum? You haven’t even done it yet, why should I thank you in advance for something you might forget to do, or make a disaster of.”

Slamming the coffee mug on the table with, liquid spilling over the edges at the upset, you leaned back in your chair with your arms now folded.

“I could just as easily leave again, Eddie.”

You watched him continue eating after the briefest of pauses, where he might have been considering a retort, or a snide come back, but chose to sit in silence instead. Sipping at your coffee, you stole glances at him, waiting to see if he would decide to speak, if he would apologise again. It was a one-off, though, you assumed. Or at least resigned yourself to believing. Until he placed his fork down, wiped his mouth on his forearm, and finally decided to speak.

“I have always been the smartest man in the room. Forced to endure the suspicions and mockery of those whose meagre mental facilities prohibited them from appreciating that fact. It has not been easy, to suffer fools. And I don’t suffer fools gladly. But then, you appear, dressing up your cognitive abilities, marginally superior as they are to that of the average hoodlum, in the guise of admiration. Although, I realise now, that it isn’t just a guise. You are… patient. Tolerant of my… less admirable qualities. And for that I…”

Eddie swallowed hard, sighing as he gritted his teeth to get through the next part of the sentence, unavoidable as it was if he wanted to at least attempt to see himself gain even a tiny iota of what he assumed was going to be genuine happiness.

“… I am thankful. And I am sorry.”

Knowing that it wasn’t the moment to push or to prod, or to try and get anything else out of him, you forced a gentle smile on your face.

“Thank you, Eddie. I appreciate that. And I’m proud of you for… trying to be a bit more…”

“Kind. Nice. Human?”

“Well, you said it.”

He offered you a smile back, oddly self-effacing, toned down and genuine. Warmth behind it that you hadn’t really seen before. He appreciated being praised, clearly. Almost as much as he loved being complimented. So you decided to keep stroking the ego in the hopes that you could nurture this fresh, and perhaps feral, ability within him.

“You’re really a wonderful person to work for, Eddie. As difficult as it can be, sometimes, I do appreciate the opportunity to see how your brain… functions, how it creates.”

“And it’s only difficult sometimes? My dear, you and I both know that’s an understatement.”

It felt like a trap. Eddie had never been this down to earth, this open about his own nature and often problematic personality. Agreeing with him felt like it might be suicidal, but it might also open up a dialogue of honesty and vulnerability. The opportunity to joke, to critique, to be equals. So you took the risk.

“Maybe, but I like you enough that I’m willing to overlook the more challenging aspects of your… general being.”

With bated breath you waited to be cursed out, for the newly built bridge between you to fall apart, the dynamite stuck to it’s fragile and trembling beams to be detonated, to watch it collapse as quickly as it was constructed. But he let out of a soft chuckle and leaned back in his seat, picking up the newspaper from the table and reading it with a smile. It was casual. It was… normal.

And it killed Eddie to be normal. Everything in him fought against the desire to tell you he was not difficult, despite knowing very well that he was. But he had been reasoning with himself, while you were gone, since you came back, even when you had been with him in the first place, that allowing himself to be normal would be the only way he could see a future with you, in any capacity. It made him feel nauseous, to consider that he wanted a future, even one where you remained as his obedient assistant let alone anything else, but that feeling of dread was good. It might mean he was doing the right thing, for a change.

Each day, each moment it seemed, he was closer to letting the softer side of him win. And every day he woke up, he was hoping it would. In the deepest, darkest recesses of his soul, there was something growing. Something that longed to be adored, and to be deserving of that adoration. Not to win it through aggression, or cruelty, or his intelligence. But through offering it back in equal measure. True. Equal. Vulnerable.

He was pulled from the thoughts by your sudden interruption, speaking again as you tried to see how far the line had been moved, toeing it, testing the waters.

“It is a shame what a pain you are, Eddie. You have the potential to be very sweet, and you are handsome. You could easily have conned someone into marriage and then they’d be sort of contractually obliged to look after you.”

“Much like you are?”

The curt, almost factual way he insinuated the dynamic between you shocked you into a stunned silence, and all you could do was look at him, stupefied, mouth open in half-shock, half-amusement at the way he had so casually implied your unspoken marriage. In the face of the ridiculousness, he stammered at an explanation.

“I mean… I didn’t mean… I’m sorry, I didn’t realise the implications when I suggested… or implied… insinuated? When I said that. I… n-not that it would be wrong, I mean you would do well as a… for someone else, although, I mean I wouldn’t want you to because then you’d spend less time with me, uh, for me. Although! You’re allowed to spend time with other people it’s not… it’s not like we’re in a relationship. We, uh, have a relationship of course, not a… which I would like, or… no… wouldn’t mind. But I would date you first not just… I’m not asking you… just explaining that it… you know what I mean? I mean… I don’t know what I mean. I am talking a lot. Big, bulging, genius brain and it can’t figure out when to stop talking to feel free to step in at any point and do your job, save me from- ”

As was now your standard, you interrupted him by placing your palm softly against his cheek. It silenced him, caught him breathless. A motion so tender, unlike most other times people had reached their hand towards his face. But, interestingly at least to him, he didn’t flinch. He didn’t expect you to react violently. He trusted you in close quarters. It felt so natural, so warming, that he didn’t even realise he was instinctively leaning in towards you, closing the gap, until he snapped back to the real world and pulled away.

“Ok, well… thank you. That’ll do it.”

As you dropped your hand to the table with a smile, he was quick to place his on top of it, watching it with a confused look, as though he weren’t in control of it. As if his body had decided to bypass his brain and start making decisions for itself, taking what it wanted. Touch. Comfort. But there was no silencing his mind, always there to assert its dominance over his heart and soul. So he snatched his arm back and placed it under the table, scowling before shifting his face to a more calm and neutral expression, not wanting to seem angry when he spoke to you.

“Perhaps we shouldn’t do that. For the sake of… the feelings involved. It might be simpler to focus on returning to our working relationship, especially so soon after your return.”

With a heavy heart, you couldn’t help but agree with him, but it stung nevertheless.

“I do agree that it was a bit awkward, before. But does that mean we just live with the tension now? We ignore it? Until it swells up again? Is that what you want?”

With a defeated smile, forced onto his face to keep the mood as light as possible, Eddie looked int your eyes, longer and deeper than he had ever done before.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know how I feel. And that is terrifying, because I know everything. The only thing I am certain of is that my ego would be satisfactorily bruised if I get something wrong. Getting it wrong would be admitting there’s something I can’t do. So I would rather not… know. I’d rather have nothing than risk being disappointed… or… disappointing… anyone else.”

You reached to grab his hand, but corrected yourself. You wanted to comfort him, to congratulate him. This was enough, this was all you needed at that moment. The fact that he had opened up, told you his feelings, confessed to his fears. It was plenty to live on. It gave you hope. And he seemed to appreciate your restraint, taking what he needed from your comforting smile at least for now. The day could begin. It would be like normal. You’d make lunch. He’d tut when you hummed and distracted him from his work. You would eat dinner and go to your separate rooms. It would be the same as always, until he was ready to find more. Or to go after it.

But as he watched you stand up, he felt a painful pang of regret in his stomach. How long could he really wait? He’d spent so much time already trying to figure out the correct answer. It might be possible that there was no definitive solution here. A risk might be the only option.

#finnie writes #arkham riddler #arkham edward nigma #riddler x reader #arkhamverse riddler #the riddler #arkhamverse #riddler #the riddler imagine #riddler smut #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x you #edward nigma x reader #edward nigma #arkham!riddler #the riddler fanfiction #arkham!verse #finnie yotn

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kidney9-9 · 9 months

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Not Today Mister - Chapter 18

Hi! Finally posted chapter 18 :) gonna try to work on writing chapter 26 today and it'll be close to finishing hopefully. Thank you to everyone who reads this story and your comments are so sweet! They inspire me to continue the story:)

Aizawa x Reader Warnings: Cursing

Today was the day that Aizawa was going to try to speak to you. He decided to get off his ass and talk to you, instead of thinking about how it could go wrong. He felt nervous, like a teenager going to talk to a cute girl. He shook his head at himself, irritated that he felt that way. But the way Hizashi described you made you sound like the perfect person for him.

And the way you hid from him made him feel more interested in you. He wanted to ask you why specifically him and why you felt the need to hide from your crush.

Crush.

Man, he felt a blush hit his cheeks at the word. Sounded so childish but at the same time kind of cute in a way that he could imagine with you.

He just needed to find you but had no idea where you might be. Chances were that you were somewhere in a gym or a hallway, but he wasn’t too sure. He started to walk down the regular paths, most common hallways in search of you but you weren’t there.

Then he started to look into each classroom, interrupting the classes in some of them. He excused himself with a wave and rolled his eyes whenever one of his coworkers wanted to talk to him, not in the mood.

When he walked into Hizashi’s class and saw you weren’t there, he instantly tried to leave but Hizashi dragged him back inside.

“Now, listeners, hear Aizawa speak English! Hear the natural flow and try it for yourselves.” Hizashi expressed loudly.

Aizawa stared at him unimpressed, “Really? You want me to speak English to them?” He said it in English, just to amuse Hizashi, who stared back with a broad grin.

“Yeah! I’ll cover a shift for you if you have a conversation in English with me.” Hizashi promised, glancing over at his class, trying to see if they were paying attention to the conversation in English.

“Okay, as long as you cover two shifts for me, I’ll continue talking.” Aizawa prompted him, raising his eyebrows.

“Fine, I’ll do it. You’re a lousy friend sometimes.” Hizashi grumbled.

“No, you’re just an idiot that agreed to do it. I would’ve kept talking to you regardless.” Aizawa chuckled slightly.

Hizashi whined, “You’re not fair. Sometimes I feel like you like tricking me.”

“I obviously do. Now bye, I’m trying to find that girl.” Aizawa mumbled, not wanting the class to hear. Hizashi nodded back to him and smiled.

“Good luck!” He said, then added a goodbye and then turned to the class, “And that is how you speak in English in a natural flow. Can you tell the difference between that and talking like this – I. Am. Fine. How. Are. You. Doing.”

The class all responded while Aizawa walked out.

He searched a few more classrooms until he decided to go try the gyms. After about twenty minutes of searching, he gave up from exhaustion and decided he’d talk to you when he’d see you next time. He decided to go to the break room to sleep in one of his spare sleeping bags.

Just as he opened the door, he saw you cleaning the couch in the break room. He quickly shut the door and locked it so you couldn’t escape like you did all those other times. He quietly stepped into the room, making sure you didn’t look up at him and he admired you for a few silent moments. You were diligently cleaning the sofa, listening to music on your phone through your earphones.

He sighed softly, still gazing at you. It made him feel relaxed just watching you and soon he leaned against the wall while you were just cleaning, watching you do your job.

It took another few minutes until you glanced up. At first, you froze and then you blinked a few times, and then you gaped at him.

“Hello.” He greeted you, a hint of a smile on his face from watching your expression.

“…Hi.” You responded hesitantly, a soft smile on your face, but you felt yourself flush heavily.

“Are you going to excuse yourself again?” He asked sarcastically, making you chuckle slightly.

“I just might.” You responded, “But you know my secret now.”

“Oh, do I?” He teased, “What secret?”

You rolled your eyes but went along with it, feeling your heart start to beat faster and faster, “Mm, I don’t know, the one where I might like you.” You didn’t know where you were getting your confidence from but goodness, you were actually flirting with this guy!

This very hot guy named Aizawa… oh my.

You gulped in suddenly just as you heard him chuckle back at your words. Oh fuck, even his laugh is hot, you thought. You shook your thoughts when you saw him open his mouth to say something.

“Might? I heard differently…” He trailed off and raised an eyebrow at you.

You turned around to stop yourself from squealing, covering your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut. Then you shuddered and turned back around, shaking your head at your actions and his.

“Right, sure thing.” You responded sarcastically, playing his own game.

He grinned back.

“Oh, acting this way all a sudden? What happened to the excuse me girl?” He questioned.

You stare at him wide eyed, “Don’t bring that up if you know I like you now.” You pleaded and he chuckled again. You swore in your head at it, hoping to hear it more often.

“C’mon tell me why you thought that would work.” He seemed amused, and he certainly was. He was loving this banter with you and wanted more. Hizashi was right…not that he’d go ahead and tell him that.

You bit your lip before you responded with, “It definitely worked. You didn’t even see me when I wore the disguises. That was the plan – for you not to notice me.”

He shrugged, “Well, I notice you now.” It was so nonchalant, it had you gaping at him.

“You can’t just say those things, you don’t know what it means.” You hope he doesn’t get what he just said because it was giving you ideas and hopes for crying out loud.

“I think I know what I mean.” He clicked his tongue at you. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. No, he does not! Because if he did, that meant he might like you back! You couldn’t believe that.

Aizawa was just playing with you, you both knew that. And you kind of liked it even though it was pissing you off a bit too. With that being said, you spoke up, “Alright, that’s enough of the joking. I like you and now you know because of Hizashi and with that being said, I’ll give you some time to think about it. If you don’t care about it or don’t want anything to do with me, you can just ignore me, that’s okay! If you do want something… I’m around. You’ll find me or you can ask Hizashi for my number. I’ll leave now.”

He nodded silently, taking in what you just said, and you walked past him, unlocked the door, and stepped out. He stared after you, stepping out into the hallway and watched as you marched away without ever looking back at him.

He grinned, liking what just transpired between the two of you.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #mha x reader #mha fanfiction

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backscar-archive · 7 months

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whats astarion’s rs with his siblings….like i mean specifically does he have a favorite. a least favorite.…that sort of stuff

You know this is such a good question because I've been thinking about it since like yesterday and all day today. From what we know and from what we understand, Astarion doesn't really talk about them all that much, it's prompted but he doesn't go into explicit details about each six individual spawn. What he says is his general go-to guilt, his sincere worry and wanting nothing for the best. It's a little thing he sweeps under the rug unless asked about. His main focus is just Cazador and the revenge he so desperately wants and needs as we learn more about Astarion and his "family". Though I'm sure after your little visitation within Cazador's castle, you'll understand that it's not as great as you might expect. I highly believe that the spawn are often challenging each other on who the best one is; it's why Leon and Violet are the most favored. They take what they do serious and the more we realize... the more we understand that they do their chores very well. In short, they get the job done without a mess to clean. Violet and Leon do not trust the other spawns, Violet seems to be more on the lookout for herself rather then the others. Leon, you realize he's only ever doing his best because of a daughter that he doesn't know is dead. He even explains that he doesn't like the way Violet looks at Victoria (which is his daughter laksfjaskf). It wouldn't surprise me if Cazador had put each spawn up against one another to form some sort of conflict which I believe often happens when one is getting too friendly or trusting. There is, however, a couple of spawns that I really do believe had looked up to Astarion and cared for him in a way in their own twisted narrative.

Pale Petras and Dalyria. A lot of people believe the two to be the eldest or youngest but I do see the two of them being the youngest out of the seven. Petras being relatively younger and Dalyria being just above him. It's clear that Astarion had more of a softer spot for Dalyria as he often called her "Dal" and Petras, well... the poor fool was held down in the sun by Astarion. The more I do think about it the more Petras seems like that of a little brother who often tattled on Astarion for every little thing though instead of not doing the dishes it was if Petras didn't do his job correctly or if he forgot something. Dalyria only tended to Astarion's wounds for a short period of time before she was forced to stop altogether. Forcing to watch the next time Astarion was sent to be tortured. Despite it all, however, Astarion did care for the two then he did with the other four. Only because they were merely, as you called it, the runt of the litter.

Petras seems like that of a little brother who often tattled on Astarion for every little thing though instead of not doing the dishes it was if Petras didn't do his job correctly or if he forgot something.

Piggy-backing off of what I said earlier, we also know of the most favored ones; Leon and Violet. No other spawn had gotten the worst out of it than Astarion and the six knew. It would not surprise me in the slightest if the others had thrown down their own excuse and finger-pointing directly at Astarion because they knew he was on Cazador's shitlist. Astarion, in no way, was ever the favored. He was favored in getting tortured. Every little thing he did was criticized and beaten into. Oh, we already know of his least favorite; Leon and Violet. Violet was the worst to often rub it into the face of Astarion and the others that she gets to sleep somewhere comforting. Leon hardly spoke to the others, often told Cazador of plans that were being made against him in conspiracy. If I were to say anything and you've already said it, the most familial out of the six were that of Pale Petras and Dalyria. And Astarion, no matter what the problem may have been or if Petras had blamed Astarion; I do believe Astarion would take the mistreatment if it was to be on him.

#﹙ 🗡 ﹚ study. 𝙴𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽𝙰𝙻 𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙴 &. 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 #abuse ment /#thanks i feel like laying onto traffic .

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smartycvnt · 2 years

Text

next to me

pairing: rhea ripley x reader

prompt: "let me give you a reason to stay in bed."

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), bottom rhea, top reader

Rhea tended to take up a lot of space in your bed. You didn't mind though. The room more she took up, the stronger of an excuse you had for cuddling her. It also meant that Rhea had a harder time sneaking out of bed in the morning. You knew her schedule, that she liked waking up before dawn to head over to the gym and get a quick workout in. Usually, you would let her go, but today you wanted Rhea to stay right there in bed next to you.

"Don't go," you whined. Rhea sighed, letting you know that she wasn't quite convinced to stay in bed. She continued getting out of bed, which was when you pulled her back in and wrapped yourself around her. Rhea was strong enough to just push you off of her, but she didn't. She wanted to stay with you, but you knew that she needed a good excuse to miss a workout.

"Just let me go and go back to sleep. I promise I'll be back by the time you wake up again," Rhea said. She moved to press a kiss to your cheek, but instead missed and got your lips. You let out a pleasured sigh, shifting just enough to put yourself in between Rhea's legs. "Y/n, I need to get going."

"Let me give you a reason to stay in bed," you told her. Rhea's cheeks blushed as you straddled her. It was definitely not what she had expected this early in the morning from you. Morning sex wasn't out of the ordinary, but you rarely were in the mood to top her this early.

"O-okay," Rhea stammered. You pushed her shirt up and leaned down to press kisses along her chest. Rhea's hands tangled in your hair, slowly guiding your head further and further down her body. It became very apparent that Rhea wasn't in a patient mood as she ground herself against you. "Please, Y/n."

"Are you staying?" you asked her. Rhea nodded as she looked down at you with pleading eyes. That was more than enough for you to keep going. You knew already that Rhea wasn't going anywhere for the rest of the morning.

"Oh fuck," Rhea moaned as your tongue slid through her folds. You lapped at her entrance, catching the droplets of her wetness that had begun to drip down a little. Your mouth moved back up towards her clit as you slipped a finger inside of her. Rhea bucked her hips to match the rhythm of your fingers, riding your tongue and fingers to help bring her to an orgasm quicker. You had tried pulling back a little bit, but Rhea was having absolutely none of it.

She used the last bit of her strength to pull you up into her arms after she had cum. Rhea pulled your fingers into her mouth, making a show of licking them clean before kissing you. You weren't sure exactly what it was, but you found the taste of Rhea on her own lips absolutely intoxicating. Just as you started to get greedy though, Rhea started to push you back a little.

"I guess I can stay in bed a few more hours with you instead of going to the gym," Rhea said with a tired laugh.

"Damn right you can." You held onto her a little tighter. Beneath your hands, you could feel Rhea flexing a little. "You don't have to go every single day anyways."

#wwe #wwe x reader #wwe imagine #wwe imagines #rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley imagines #rhea ripley imagine

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isfjmel-phleg · 8 months

Text

Had a long-winded monologue conversation today about Elystan's schoolmates Jestidge Kesson and Morstyn Hollock, and I was reminded of these very short pieces I wrote from each's POV in response to some assigned drabble prompts.

They might not turn out to be actually canon, but I was just transitioning from Wodehouse scholarship into creative writing when I wrote them, so that influence bled over, and the results were fun to write, if not perfect. So I'm bringing them back for the heck of it.

We’re going to freeze to death

[Set during Book 3, while Josiah and Elystan are at school]

The glory of winning the rugball match had simmered down. The cheers and congratulations of his teammates and their admirers were no more than an echo of memory. Once Kesson had returned to his dormitory, one reality of his exploits remained: mud. Caking his clothes, smeared on his face and hair. On the field, this was a mark of dedication; in the solitude of the dormitory, it was a nuisance. He would take a long bath and emerge once more presentable to the school.

Hardly had he divested himself of the muddied rugball clothes before someone knocked on his door. He snatched up and donned a dressing gown, seizing a moment long enough to remold his face into the appropriate polite but authoritative helpfulness.

The expression nearly dropped off entirely when he opened the door. It was Callon.

Again.

The last person who needed to witness his prefect muddied and in a dressing gown. Kesson could have sworn the child was inspecting him with disapproval.

“This time you must do something about Liddick!” said Callon.

Kesson sighed. “What’s he done now?”

“He burns things in the fireplace, a strange sort of paper, and there’s smoke everywhere, and it smells beastly, and he just sits there like an idiot and breathes it in as if he’s at the seaside, and he won’t stop, he’s done it all week, and when I try to open the window, he just shuts it again, and he won’t let me sleep with the window open even though it’s stiflingly stuffy in there, and if I do manage to keep it open, he says we’re going to freeze to death and says he’s caught cold from it, and then I have to hear him sneezing and sniffling all night, and that’s on top of the coughing–”

Callon was clearly prepared to continue this speech indefinitely, but Kesson held up a hand to stop him.

“That sounds like a…complicated situation,” he said.

“He’s doing it on purpose.”

“Very likely. It sounds like something the two of you need to work out between yourselves.” Kesson tried to close the door, but Callon stopped it with his foot.

“I can’t be expected to live with someone like that. This is not what I have been accustomed to or what I was led to expect at a respectable establishment. You need to either send him into one of the dormitories or move me into a new private room.”

“I believe I’ve already explained to you that I cannot do that. Now if you would excuse me, I have a prior engagement–”

“What sort of prefect are you? I thought it was your place to keep order around here, but if you can’t even control someone like Liddick, perhaps I should ask Böllingfurt to deal with him instead.”

A successful prefect did not slam doors shut over pupils’ feet, so Kesson replied, very slowly, “This isn’t Böllingfurt’s corridor.”

“Fine, then I’ll speak to the Head if no one else will listen to me.”

“Do,” said Kesson. “Perhaps he can recommend you a good hotel.”

“Do you really think so? That would be much better. I’ll go and speak him at once.”

The second Callon had turned away, Kesson banged the door shut and leaned against it, feeling as winded as if he had just come from practice. He would probably live to regret sending a Remove boy straight to the Head–for Callon, if asked, would surely announce freely that Kesson had told him to do it–but the child wouldn’t get far enough to do much damage. One did not simply walk into the Head’s office.

At any rate, Kesson had bought himself about half an hour before anyone was liable to need him again, and he meant to enjoy every second of it.

I didn’t cheat!

[Set during Book 3]

Morstyn Hollock had dreaded preparation so long and so strongly that even with the possibility of good news he held in his hand, he shuffled furtively up to the end of the long table at which his tutor sat, scribbling in the margins of a Latin textbook.

“Excuse me, sir,” said Morstyn in a small voice. He was only a Lower-Fourth-Former and thus fortunate that an elder boy from the Remove, two whole years his senior, deigned to help him with his Latin. One did not address such a personage with the familiarity of an audible voice.

His tutor did not acknowledge him. Morstyn craned his neck, hoping for a clearer glimpse of what wisdom the textbook was being graced with, but failed to make it out. His tutor turned the page and continued scribbling on the other side. Only he didn’t keep using his right hand, like common mortals. No, he simply moved the pen to his left hand and continued as if nothing had changed.

“Excuse me, sir.” Morstyn tried a slightly louder voice, which sounded to him like shouting.

His tutor looked up. “Ah, Hollock. Is it seven o’clock already? I thought I had at least half an hour to finish this. Where have you been?”

Morstyn hung his head humbly and clutched his papers to his chest. “Mr. Stainton has given me back my exam, sir.”

His tutor raised an eyebrow. “And? Did he improve upon ‘Latin of a quality that would rouse Julius Caesar from the grave, if only to bash your head with every bone in his body’? I don’t think it gets much better than that.”

“I don’t know yet.”

“He gave you an exam without a mark? Creative. Builds suspense.”

“No, sir. I haven’t looked at it. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

Morstyn thought he saw his tutor sit up a little straighter, but surely that wasn’t possible for someone with the steely-rigid posture of royalty.

“So you couldn’t bear to find out alone? You need someone with you in this hour of distress? Come on, let’s get it over with. We can at least give him marks for original commentary. Masters these days will just keep slacking if we don’t continue to hold them to the highest standards of composition. Stainton has promise, if only he will apply himself. The damage, young Hollock.”

He held out an imperative hand, and Morstyn bestowed upon him the examination as gently and solemnly as if it had been a scepter at a coronation.

His tutor scanned the pages briefly and flipped to the end for Mr. Stainton’s final remarks. Morstyn gazed in horror at his face, waiting for it to reveal how apologetic a letter he must write to his parents tonight. But his tutor’s face remained inscrutable.

“So,” he said coolly, “whose paper did you copy from?”

“No one’s, sir.”

“Really? After I told you it was your only earthly hope of getting a decent mark?”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Now, Hollock, you can be honest with me. You know I’m not a sneak.”

“I didn’t cheat!” Morstyn was surprised at how loudly the words burst from his mouth. A boy seated further down the table turned to stare at him.

“Then how do you explain this essay that makes vague grammatical sense? I didn’t even think you knew this word. And it appears that you have discovered syntax. This is not the Hollock I know. Unless you’re leading some kind of double life? And this time you sent your dark self who learned Latin from his infernal residence to take the exam for you, while you…took the afternoon off to do whatever it is Hollocks amuse themselves with in their idle hours?”

Morstyn didn’t quite follow this. Perhaps he would when he too was in the Remove and practically grown-up.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just…remembered things more. I think? Or I didn’t?” He shrunk back as his tutor displayed the exam, inscribed in Mr. Stainton’s hand with a mark that he had only ever seen from a distance on schoolmates’ exams. Not a perfect mark by any means. But strikingly different from his last one.

His jaw dropped, as did he, smack down on the bench beside his tutor. He didn’t mean to be impertinent. Such unearthly revelations required intense processing, best done from a seated position.

But even this shock could not prepare him for a brisk clap on the back and a hoarse “Well-played, Hollock” from the mouth of his tutor, Liddick himself.

Hollock murmured his thanks, but Liddick had returned to the margins of the textbook and didn’t seem to have heard.

#The Blackberry Bushes #The Blackberry Bushes short stories #my writing #Jestidge Kesson #Morstyn Hollock #Josiah Callon #Elystan Liddick

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transandersrights · 1 year

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Happy Friday! How about Anders/m!Hawke, 'taking a break/relaxing' for dadwc.

(I take prompts! See info here)

Ahh ty for this prompt for my beloveds! For @dadrunkwriting, ~750 words of early relationship mHanders, rated T. Content warnings for minor references to offscreen violence + rather less minor references to sex.

“Anders, it’s getting late. Maybe you should—”

“Mmm, not yet.” Anders waved him off almost without looking up from his work, his hand aside from the paper only for the moment as he dipped his pen back into the ink. There were sheets of paper scattered all over the floor, and he’d replaced the candle recently. He wasn’t thinking about finishing up any time soon.

“I’m not going to ask you to come to bed, I think I’m smarter than that.” Hawke laughed, and Anders still didn’t look up, but he didn’t return to writing either. “Just wanted to take a break. I brought some food?”

Anders chuckled. “A sandwich?”

Anders smiled back, eyes creasing at the edges. “Hey.” He looked tired, like always, but not quite as frustrated as Hawke expected. “Oh, that does look good. Can we…?” He inclined his head towards the balcony.

Hawke grinned; he’d won, then. “Not quite. Some fruit and cheese from the market.” And yes, Anders set the pen down and left his papers behind, turning to face Hawke for the first time that evening. “Hey.”

Anders joined him by the time Hawke had set out the tray and pulled the knives from his pockets (Mother would whinge about holes in the fine fabric, but what was he going to do? Hold them when he needed hands for the tray and door?). Under the moonlight, Anders looked almost like a cat as he took up his usual spot in the chair closest to the door back inside. He tilted his head up, eyes catching the stars.

“Of course.” Hawke crossed half the room to offer Anders a hand up, and then the other half while the man took a moment to stretch. Cool night air fluttered the papers on the desk, but Anders paid it no heed — clearly, it had been one of those writing nights.

“What time is it?” Anders asked, voice half-absent.

“Past midnight,” Hawke confirmed.

Anders winced. “I didn’t realise. Have I kept you up?”

“I only got back in half an hour ago.” Gang-busting in Lowtown again; Anders had opted to stay in, and Hawke was glad to oblige. Foolishly, he’d thought that Anders might actually take a break, but no such luck. “I’ll go to bed after this, but I’ll sleep like a log. You can keep working if you want.”

Anders let out a long exhale, then plucked one of the cherries from the tray. “I’m not sure if I’ll get much further tonight,” he confessed. “I don’t think I got very far today at all.”

“Want to talk about it?” Hawke was… well, he wasn’t half as educated or a third as articulate as Anders, but he could be a sounding board, at least.

Anders chuckled. “No, we’re taking a break. I can stop thinking about it for a bit.”

Hawke couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face at that. He’d hoped Anders would say it, really, but he never knew what was best for him. Where he should push, where he should hold back… this was all still so new.

Good new. Scary new. He’d learn in time, and he’d learn after plenty of mistakes. For now, though? He could sit with Anders in the evening light and be a good excuse to stop staring at words that didn’t want to be written just as much as they demanded to be heard.

“Tell me about what you did tonight,” Anders said instead. “Best moment. Or top three, if you can’t pick.”

It was tearing a new one for muggers, but alright. Hawke closed his eyes to cast his mind back over the night, and when he opened his mouth to speak—

Oh, that was cheese. It might have been late, but Hawke still had it; he closed his mouth again quickly, letting his tongue linger on Anders’ fingertips as Anders pulled away. And yep, there it was — Anders’ too-breathy exhale. He had caught him out.

“That’s a dirty trick,” Anders complained.

“Dirtier than putting your hand in my mouth when my eyes were closed?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

“Want to put something else in there?”

Anders spluttered, and Hawke opened his eyes again, letting a grin spread across his face. “I thought we were eating fruit and cheese like fancy nobles.”

Hawke laughed, and this time Anders laughed with him, the sound spilling forth so easily. Fuck, Hawke really might be in love with him. “We can do whatever you want. It’s your break.”

“Cheese and fruit it is, then,” Anders answered, his tone lightly smug as he said it. But he was still smiling, reaching for another cherry, and that was exactly what Hawke wanted; Anders, happy, doing whatever he damn well wanted.

#dragon age fanfiction #dragon age drunk writing circle #handers #dragon age anders #dragon age 2

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ddagent · 11 months

Note

Ooooo… how about Burnout. John/Delenn on a tropical vacation? John introducing Delenn to horseback riding?

Burn Out: Break (respite from work, vacation, holiday fling) Open for Prompts

As far as state dinners went, John Sheridan had had worse. His inauguration as reluctant Earth Alliance President came to mind: half of his Joint Chiefs wanted to shoot him; John was still recovering from his capture and could barely hold anything down. This was practically a dinner date. Violinist in the corner, decadent vintage on the table, freshly grown vegetables on the plate. A beautiful woman sitting opposite him. A beautiful Minbari woman – who would barely look at him, let alone talk. Still, it was better than his inauguration.

“How do you like the Ranch, Satai?” John asked his guest, gesturing to the Sheridan Family Farm that had, thankfully, remained unscathed during Clark’s reign of terror. “We have horses, chickens – even a few sheep. All the vegetables we’re eating are grown right here on this very farm.”

Satai Delenn did not answer straight away. John wanted to think she was struck dumb by his pretty face, just as he had been left speechless by her appearance during her first visit to Geneva, all those months ago. Instead, she was just waiting for her aide, Mister Lennier, to translate John’s words into Adronato. Lennier relayed John’s paltry attempt at small talk, accompanying his words with the young Minbari’s best impression of a chicken. The Secret Service agents behind John did their best not to laugh. The Minbari guards standing behind Delenn stared, bemused. Eventually, the Satai responded; her words falling like water from her tongue.

Continue Reading Below or Continue Reading at AO3

Lennier’s own response was less than eloquent. “She likes it very much.”

“Great.”

The rest of the dinner fell into uncomfortable silence, punctuated by John’s occasional attempts to spark some conversation. But it was not to be. So, John continued stabbing at his carrots and peas while mentally kicking Ivanova for suggesting this little exercise in the first place. After the war between their people, and with the Babylon Project falling through after the disappearance of Babylon 4, Earth and Minbar had had an…uneasy agreement. You don’t bother us; we won’t bother you. But John owed the Minbari a debt. For not killing him during the war, when that Satai knew damn well who he was. For the mysterious figures, cloaked in black with a green jewel upon their lapel and Adronato on their lips, who had rescued him from Mars. So, he’d pushed. First, a good-will visit from the Minbari leader to Geneva. Then, a personal visit to John’s family home. He even hoped to visit Minbar someday.

If hopes were horses, Johnny, you’d be a cowboy.

After dinner, Delenn and her people excused themselves to the guest house on the other side of the compound. John’s own security stood their posts. In a few days, ISN, Universe Today and all manner of press would descend for key photo opportunities. Right now, all he’d have was a very confused Minbari delegation and a headache the size of the Centauri Ambassador’s ego. So, John didn’t sleep very well. He considered asking one of his security detail to get up on the roof with a hose but didn’t need that headline on the front page. But before the sun came up, John slid out of the window and headed for the stables.

He expected to find his detail admonishing him for breaking protocol. He did not expect to find Satai Delenn standing, looking out over the hills and the subtle shifts in the skyline. “Satai. Are you okay?” Dammit. She didn’t speak English. He’d been trying to learn Adronato but was far from becoming fluent. He stuttered a few words in her language.

She laughed. “I am well, Mister President. Just…meditating on what has come before and what is now.”

John, hands shoved into his pockets to stop them from being thrown into the air in frustration, shuffled up beside her. “You know, last night’s dinner could have been a lot less awkward without Lennier translating everything.”

“Yes.” And she smiled, and the sun came up over the hills, and John was sure there was some diplomatic manoeuvring at work but right at that moment he did not care. He just wanted to see that smile again. “Your family home is lovely, Mister President. So much nature; so much…green. I would very much like to see your, uh—” She replicated the cluck-cluck sound that Lennier had made the night before. “—and perhaps your…horses? We have no such creatures on Minbar.”

John felt like punching the air in triumph. He was finally in the position to make real headway with the Minbari and he wasn’t going to waste a second. “Absolutely. How about after breakfast, we take the delegation—”

“—no.” Delenn’s hand slid over his arm, holding him firm. “Just…us. I find myself tired of shadows, Mister President.”

He nodded, once, understanding all too well. “Okay. Well, if there’s no shadows, then I’m John.”

“Delenn.”

Grinning, John ushered Delenn towards the stables. It was cool inside, the sound of rustling joining their singular footsteps, so long accompanied by others. They walked to the far end of the stables where Aggie stood, majestic. A beautiful coat of dark currant, accompanied by a thick umber mane – she was beautiful. Delenn stood, just as marvelled. A tentative hand reached out to touch Aggie; the horse quickly pressed itself into Delenn’s embrace. The Minbari immediately flinched, hand recoiling. Aggie snuffed, rejected.

“She’s fine.” John lifted the hand that had so readily touched his arm, guiding the fingers back to Aggie’s nose. “This is Aggie. Whenever I’m here – whenever I used to be here – I’d spend hours riding her.”

“You ride her?” Delenn asked, her touch soft. Exploring.

“Four hundred years ago, people used to ride to get around. Now, we do it for pleasure.” He placed a sugar lump in Delenn’s hand and watched with amusement as Aggie licked it right from her palm. Her laughter echoed throughout the empty stable. In a thin shaft of light, her face was alive with the simple joy of seeing a horse for the first time. John had to bear witness to that face for as long as possible. But he wanted more. More of this: more firsts; more moments with the wonders of the Universe laid bare. “I could teach you.”

“Would you?”

It had been a long time since John had taught his sister how to ride, but he remembered the basics. Leading Aggie and his other favourite horse, Hector, out of the stable, both John and Delenn checked that their respective security details were otherwise detained before they set out. John saddled both horses before he offered Delenn a boost. She stared at him, baffled, until he mimed putting her foot in his cupped hands. Together, they lifted Delenn onto Aggie – upon whom she promptly clutched around the neck. John eased her back, soothing both the horse and the Minbari Satai.

“She’s a good girl; you’re going to be fine. Feel her mane?” John guided Delenn’s fingers through the soft hair, his thumb running along Delenn’s skin. Her fingers explored his palm, the marks and scars and lines.

Her gaze caught his and her hands, inked in blue and silver, immediately retreated to the reigns. “Is this…correct?”

“You’re doing great. We’ll make a cowboy out of you yet.”

John then hoisted himself up onto Hector’s back, not missing the way Delenn’s eyes lingered on the muscles of his thighs gripping the horse, or the way his hands so easily manipulated the reigns. He guided her on how to press her heels into the flanks of the horse, how to steer Aggie in a specific direction. Then they trotted forward. The early exertion had left John’s shirt sticking to his skin; his jeans and boots sturdy yet informal. Delenn’s form was draped in an embroidered silk cloak of gold and green, her hair falling in loose curls over her shoulders. They made quite the picture: she a faerie queen from an old story; he a cowboy looking for the horizon.

They found it after a short while: just beyond the hills; just beyond the reach of their detail. Aggie had bonded with Delenn in an instant; she whispered words to her from a world that had never had horses as they looked out over the rising dawn. John just sat, watching Delenn. He remembered being taken with her the evening of the diplomatic reception; half-human features, startling green eyes, a voice that could lead good men to war. The first words she’d said to him still rang in his ears; his surprise plastered on a million copies of Universe Today: I am your friend – in peace.

Delenn turned to him, now; that achingly beautiful smile leading him to clutch Hector for purchase. “Thank you, John. This is…wonderful.”

“You’re welcome, Delenn. This is what I wanted from the trip. To show you all the wonders of Earth.” He ran a hand along the back of his neck. “You know, I am still surprised you agreed to come. I’m not exactly welcome among your people and I imagine there was…pushback to both your visits.”

A curious, meditative smile overcame Delenn. “You should not be surprised, John. After all, it was my Rangers that helped you escape Mars.” His eyes shot to hers. She then grinned, sinking her hands into Aggie’s mane. “We should return. Our…positions do not allow for much of this.”

“Well, maybe tomorrow I could show you over that ridge. And you can tell me what other secrets you’re holding back.”

“All in good time, Mister President. All in good time.”

With another grin, Delenn gently steered Aggie in the direction of home; John eagerly following suit. It was a pleasant ride: the early morning sun on their backs, fresh dew in the air, a lingering exchange of secretive smiles. A few of their security detail had stirred on the other side of the stables but John was able to quickly and quietly stow both horses. He eased Delenn down from Aggie’s back; the Minbari Satai stumbling into his arms. John held her close, feeling the warmth of her body through the material of her cloak. Our positions do not allow for much of this. If she was anyone other than the Chosen One, John would have kissed her. Tilted her chin up to meet his lips; whispered soft declarations in the silence of the stable. But Aggie let out a soft whine and the moment was broken.

But there was always tomorrow. There were no shadows on the horizon.

#john x delenn #babylon 5 #b5fic #ship: john x delenn #dd: fanfic #prompts

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stackthedeck · 2 years

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mattfoggy 74 and 66 please!

oh my goodness I've gotten so much mileage out of this prompt list I love y'all so much

66. “You made this for me?”

74.“It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”

Sorry, this took a hot second lmao but I hope this fluff was worth the wait <3

“Good morning.”

Foggy wakes up with the sunlight and Matt wakes up with Foggy. Anything beats his alarm clock screeching the time at him. But Foggy’s voice, the way Matt can feel it deep in his chest before he hears it, the steady beating of his heart, his arms around him, his whole body enveloping him turning the bed into a furnace, even his morning breath. He could do this for the rest of his life.

“Morning,” Matt mutters back, his voice still rough with sleep. Fuck he needs coffee.

They haven’t made a habit of sleeping with each other—both in the euphemistic and literal sense of the phrase. Just when they're both interested or they’re working late at either of their apartments instead of the office or if Foggy doesn’t want to get a cab back and Matt’s apartment is in walking distance or if Foggy wants to keep Matt from putting on the suit or if they can find any reason.

But they haven’t put a label on it. Friends with benefits maybe? But the benefits aren’t just sex, it’s also cuddling and a shared law firm, frankly a shared life. Honestly, it doesn’t feel that different from college.

Matt buries his head into Foggy’s neck, trying to steal just a few extra minutes of sleep, a little bit more of Foggy’s warmth. His sheets smell like Foggy and Foggy smells like him. The merging of their two scents makes something complicated well up in Matt’s throat, makes him want their hearts to beat in sync.

Foggy kisses the top of his head. “You need a shower, man.”

“I’m alright.” Matt kisses Foggy’s neck with no real force or intention behind it as he’s still walking up, he just wants to taste him, feel him. “Wanna stay in bed a little longer.”

“Nope.” Foggy runs his hand through Matt’s hair and Matt can feel his smile pressed into his skin. “You smell like that godforsaken suit and the dumpster you crawled out of.”

So maybe sleeping together isn’t stopping Matt from putting on the suit. But it gets him back home faster.

“Didn’t hear you complain last night.”

“I don’t complain about anything at four a.m, except not sleeping.”

“You could join me.” Matt pulls back from Foggy just so that he can see him bite his lip. Even after all this time, he can still feel Foggy’s face flushing with heat, hear his heart jump.

“Tempting,” Foggy hums, but it turns into a yawn, “maybe after coffee.”

Matt wriggles closer to Foggy, squeezing him a little tighter than necessary. Foggy precedes to throw the blankets open, letting a cold gust of morning air slap against the both of them. With a groan, Matt untangles himself from Foggy.

“Fine,” he huffs, but he’s not that put out because Foggy’s laughing and he can’t be in a mood when Foggy’s laughing and here with him.

The sound of the water hitting the shower tiles drowns out all other noise, radar sense being pulled down to just Matt’s body. Morning showers are one of the few opportunities he has not to put every piece of input into his mental map. Even so, Matt still finds himself straining to hear Foggy’s heartbeat.

When Matt turns off the water, he’s hit by the smell of coffee and food—scrambled eggs with the yolks still in, bacon, fresh-cut fruit—and above it all is Foggy. He can hear Foggy humming a tune to himself as a spoon clinks against the ceramic mug.

Matt dresses and then walks into the kitchen, his radar sense quickly confirming what he already suspected. Foggy made breakfast. He really shouldn’t have, Matt’s not a breakfast kind of guy, more the type to grab a granola bar as he rushes out the door.

“What’s all this?” Matt asks. He steps closer to his tiny excuse for a dining table but doesn’t sit down. Smelling the air, he can tell that there’s cheese on the eggs and Foggy’s found the hot sauce amongst the disorder of his fridge.

“Breakfast.” Foggy presses a mug into his hand. He doesn’t have to, he could hold it out and Matt could sense it, but Matt finds himself smiling at the gesture anyways. “Or the best I could do. Did you know you only have turkey bacon? Matt, if anyone is allowed to eat real bacon, it’s you. Also, you’re out of flour, I was gonna make pancakes but—”

Matt inhales. Black coffee with two sugars, exactly how he likes it. He doesn’t remember telling Foggy how he takes it, but he must have noticed and remembered.

“You made this for me?” Matt asks, his voice so much smaller than he expected. He’s never let anyone stick around long enough for them to pick up the little details of him much less have anyone care enough to remember them.

“No, I made coffee just for myself in your apartment and then had you hold it for me,” Foggy laughs, “I don’t know if you can tell from my tone, but I’m rolling my eyes, buddy. Obviously, I made you coffee.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing.”

It’s everything.

“Sit down and eat,” Foggy says as he pulls out the chair for Matt, guiding him to it, “I’m seriously concerned by the lack of food in your fridge.”

“I’m getting groceries tomorrow.” Matt takes a bit of the eggs. They’re a little dry, but the cheese and yolk make them rich, some things Matt would neglect if he was cooking for himself.

“Hot sauce at 12 o’clock,” Foggy says over a sip of his own coffee. Just a splash of cream, no sugar, but if they’re at a coffee shop he prefers chai lattes.

“You don’t have to do that,” Matt says as he reaches for the hot sauce.

“Force of habit.” Foggy shrugs. “Does it help or is it annoying?”

“It helps,” Matt says, “but you don’t have to, I can figure it out.”

“No trouble on my part.” Foggy reaches out to take Matt’s hand, squeezing just a little.

“Thanks for staying over,” Matt says, “and I’m sorry for leaving before we could…”

“Well, thank you for coming back in one piece.” Foggy squeezes his hand just a little tighter, like that could keep him safe.

“You could have gone back to your place,” Matt says, “not had to wait up or sleep next to dumpster smell.”

“Did you want me to?” Foggy’s heartbeat quickens and his fork scrapes against the ceramic plate. Matt winces, not sure which sound is worse.

“I’m trying to say that, I’m glad you didn’t.” Matt squeezes Foggy’s hand back. “It’s nice that your voice was the first thing I heard today.”

Foggy lifts Matt’s hand to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on his scarred knuckles. “What would you say to being…roommates again?”

“Roommates?” Matt raises his eyebrows as he tries to hold back a chuckle. “Is that all I am to you, something to keep the rent down?”

“I mean—” Foggy cuts himself off with a laugh and suddenly Matt is laughing too and their hands are clasped so tightly and the smell of perfect coffee and food mix with Foggy and it is home.

“Boyfriends,” Foggy says once he and Matt have both stopped laughing at themselves, “what I’m asking is, do you want to be dating, like officially?”

Matt takes a sip of his coffee, knowing that Foggy could make it just how he likes it every morning and that Matt could do the same for him. His sheets could smell like Foggy and Foggy could smell like him. Every morning, he’d wake to the sound of Foggy’s voice and his heart beating in his ear, so close that it’s practically in his own chest.

“I’d like that.”

#asks #fanfic #my fanfic #matt murdock #daredevil #marvel #foggy nelson #matt x foggy #mattfoggy #idk if y'all can find that prompt list under all my reblogs lmao #i'll reblog another one soon #but y'all can always send prompts or requests

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slipping-through-my-fingertips · 2 years

Text

Right as a Rose (5/5)

Klaine 3-2-1 Prompt Bang Fic: Right as a Rose

Author: @slipping-through-my-fingertips

Artist: @gleefulpoppet

Prompt Provided by: anonymous

Pairing(s): Kurt Hummel/Blaine Anderson

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 10.9k

Characters: Kurt Hummel, Elliott Gilbert, Blaine Anderson, Santana Lopez, Rachel Berry, Cooper Anderson

Summary: Elliott's been cast in NYU's spring musical and there's a fellow cast member who he wants to set up with his best friend and bandmate, Kurt. No blind date happens but Kurt does find himself drawn to Blaine Anderson, who plays the male lead. Kurt gets himself invited to the cast party and makes a fool of himself in front of Blaine but still ends up in his bed.

Genre/Tropes: College!Klaine,

Warnings: Implied Sexual Content (if you know me, I don’t write actual sex scenes)

Author’s Notes: I had such a wonderful time working on this prompt. I really hope you love it as much as I do. I can’t wait to see what’s to come as the Bang continues!

All Chapters | Ao3

Chapter 5: Finale

Kurt’s bouncing around his bedroom trying to pull on his pants. Dammit, his stupid alarm clock was on silent and now he’s so, so, late. Elliott’s going to kill him.

Of course, today’s the day, he’d sleep too late. When he steps out of the bedroom, Kurt finds the loft empty. Worst roommates ever. Neither of the girls thought to wake him before leaving tonight? He knew he shouldn’t have taken that late afternoon nap.

It’s the quickest he’s ever gotten ready. Hopefully, the stage lights will make him look better than he feels.

After a night of tossing and turning, the good kind, Kurt had been yawning all afternoon. Rachel was the one to eventually tuck him into bed. He had hoped to wake up refreshed but instead, he was stressed and rushing out the door.

Kurt’s supposed to be at Dots and Other Circles. A bar they’ve played at before just never on a Friday night. It’ll be their largest crowd ever. The stage is to Kurt’s left when he walks in, everything looks set up and ready to go. He wonders if there’s a backstage where he’ll find his traitorous roommates or his own doom if Elliott’s with them.

He makes his way to the bar. If he’s going to be murdered in the next ten minutes, he might as well have one last drink. Kurt squeezes his way to the counter, every seat is taken, and orders a rum and coke. Like he’s in a movie or something, the two people he’s chosen to stand between are exactly the people he was avoiding: Santana and Elliott.

“Running a tad behind, aren’t we Hummel?” Santana teases.

“No thanks to you!” he says back.

“Give her a break, wasn’t even her idea,” Elliott says with a wave.

“Excuse me?”

“We told you the wrong time on purpose and I silenced your alarm,” Santana laughs, “someone owes me ten bucks!”

She walks off, presumably to collect her money.

“You bet on me too?” Kurt exclaims, slightly offended.

Elliott shrugs but he’s smiling too. Kurt’s got the worse friends ever.

“Would it have killed you to be ten minutes later, babe,” Blaine says from behind him, “Now I have to give Santana $10.”

He turns around to see his boyfriend, dressed perfectly in a red bowtie and a tight black polo that shows off his arms and forgets for a moment to be mad.

“I thought you had… never mind, that was a lie too.”

“Little fib,” Blaine corrects.

Still, Kurt pulls Blaine forward and kisses him.

They had been dating just over a month now. Kurt’s the happiest he’s been since getting that acceptance letter to NYADA. Finally, he has someone to show off at parties, to send flirty texts to between classes, and get teased about by his roommates. There’s still a thrill anytime he gets to introduce Blaine as his boyfriend. It’s a new title for them, official as of two weeks ago.

Blaine breaks the kiss first, “should I apologize or?”

“Just kiss me again.”

He thinks Elliott makes a gagging noise but Kurt can’t be sure.

Even after all the thanking Elliott had received over the last few weeks, he’s firmly on Santana’s side of things when it comes to their relationship—Kurt and Blaine are the grossest couple in existence, too in love and they’ve only been together for six weeks, makes them sick to their stomachs. All in the most loving way but if the honeymoon period isn’t over soon, Elliott and Santana have made a pack to get out of the city for a while.

“Alright, break it up,” Elliott says, “we go on in fifteen and still need to do vocal warmups.”

Blaine takes Elliott’s seat at the bar and offers to finish Kurt’s drink, which hasn’t been touched.

“Break a leg,” he says, as Elliott leads Kurt away.

It’s the first time Blaine will be seeing their band perform. They’ve all been battling hectic schedules and couldn’t pin down a weekend to book a gig. The girls are in the backstage area. Rachel doing warmups and Santana taking a shot of some clear liquid.

“Hello Kurt, how was your nap?” Rachel sings.

He rolls his eyes when she bursts into laughter. Worst friends ever.

Ignoring Rachel altogether, Kurt asks, “what are we starting with tonight?”

There’s nothing quite like the rush right before going out onto the stage. The four of them circle up, their pre-show ritual, arms around each other’s shoulders and heads barely touching.

“Never let anyone dull your sparkle,” Elliott whispers.

Santana hits his shoulder, “you may sparkle but please shut up.”

Rachel covers her laughter with a cough before saying their mantra.

“You’re a star, you own the stage, sing your heart out.”

Once they’re on stage, Kurt scans the crowd for his boyfriend. He’s no longer at the bar but it doesn’t take long to spot his curls. In the center of the crowd, currently pushing his way between tables to get a spot directly in front of Kurt.

Elliott’s introduction faded. All Kurt saw was Blaine’s lips forming the words “hi.”

Elliott starts playing his guitar. They’re starting the set off a little slow with an acoustic cover of “Teenage Dirtbag.”

Santana steps up to her microphone and starts to sing, “Her name is Noelle, she’s walking over to me…”

Rule one of stage presence is making everyone in the audience feel like you’re singing just to them. Santana does this extremely well. Surveying the crowd, winking at cute girls, and smiling at the men who don’t stand a chance. But when Kurt steps up to the microphone and begins to sing, there’s only one pair of eyes he finds. He gets lost in those hazel eyes, happily so. He’d be a lucky man to get lost in them forever.

Six weeks.

Just six weeks of being with Blaine and Kurt’s already completely smitten. He’s used to the feeling Blaine gives him. The pulling of the heartstrings normally comes with a new crush but it’s constant. His dreams are consumed by Blaine. Instead of having to wake up to a harsh reality, Kurt gets to read a ‘good morning beautiful’ text because he’s no longer pinning alone. Blaine is pinning too. Their pinning for each other, for every moment not spent in one another’s company, for every little note they type out, for every dream they can make reality, for every kiss they replay in their minds.

Kurt’s never been so anxious to get off a stage in his life. He wants to stop singing right this second and jump off the stage into Blaine’s arms and kiss the life out of him. In front of all these people, a crowded New York bar on a Friday night. Kurt never imagined himself as a fan of PDA but for Blaine, he’d do all of it and more.

He still soaks up the applause after they finish, patiently waits as Rachel thanks the crowd once more and yells their names to the crowd, and finally takes a bow with his bandmates before running down the three steps off the stage and directly into the crowd. Blaine must be doing the same because it takes less than 30 seconds before they’re wrapped around one another.

Blaine hugging him so tight and whispers how hot it was to see his boyfriend’s performance. Now he knows how Kurt felt seeing him in a musical. Nothing hotter than a man who can make the stage his own.

When Kurt pulls back a little from their hug, he just stares a Blaine for a second and thinks ‘damn, am I a lucky bastard.’ Then, like he was imagining when they were still on stage, he kisses the life out of his boyfriend. Like he’s attempting to suck Blaine’s soul out through his mouth. Maybe he hallucinating, because only Blaine’s mouth can cause such vivid fantasies, but Kurt swears the crowd is cheering them on.

#klaine321promptbang2022 #k321pb2022 #klaine fanfiction #klaine fanfic #my fics #raar

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sophierequests · 1 year

Note

🌿 i talk in my sleep - send me your ideal idea of a first date and some facts about yourself and i'll ship you with a character and write a short drabble about them

my name’s finn, i use he/they pronouns, im a gay man, and My idea of the perfect date is something quiet and soft but romantic in an almost fairytale-esc manner- walk around with me in a library or a garden or by a river or something, there doesn’t even have to be food involved or anything, i just love the idea of going somewhere to do something simple and quiet in an environment that allows the person to devote all of their attention to me <3

(ps, i know the ship is supposed to be of author’s choice, but i’d really love to see this prompt filled with nikolai if you’re willing to bend the rules like that. also just wanted to say i’m a new follower but i scrolled your blog before following and you’re very talented, love your work!)

shipping people with grishaverse characters // the garden event

so you expected me to read 'fairytale-esque' and not pick a literal prince? no faith /lh

the prince x prince trope (or royal x royal, because i didn't really specify you being a prince) was right there and i took it without asking questions, so i hope you'll like this piece!

and thank you for the compliment!! <33

You leaned back in the deep blue library settee and let out a deep sigh, allowing your mind to finally leaf through everything that had been thrust upon you today. Memories of meetings with ministers, walks over the training grounds, and an introduction to Ravkan military policies made your eyelids feel droopy and your feet feel like they had been made out of lead. And it was barely even late afternoon. If this hadn’t been a library you would have probably given in to the need for a good old nap. Who knew that courting a prince was this much hard work?

Just as you were about to get up and look for an adequate book to keep you from falling asleep, an unruly head of golden curls materialized right above your face. It nearly made you fall off your seat in shock.

Nikolai let out a breathy chuckle, the sound clinging to your ears like warm, smooth honey. You shot up immediately, feeling a hot flush of embarrassment rise up in your cheeks. Your fiancé finding you right in the middle of your self-imposed mental health break wasn’t something you had been looking forward to.

“Nikolai, I–” You tried to explain yourself, but he brushed off every futile attempt at doing so with a dismissive hand gesture.

“Shouldn’t you be off getting your ears talked off by the international ambassadors?” He gave you a beat of silence to respond but instead of coherent words, a yawn escaped your throat. “Tired after a long day of dealing with all that bureaucratic nonsense, pretty boy?” he asked, a knowing grin on his lips when he saw your visceral reaction to him complimenting you.

“I–I suppose you could say that, yes.” Nikolai leaned on the armrest where your head had been sitting just a few moments earlier and looked down at you with kind, yet mischievous eyes. “Shouldn’t you be…spending your evening with more important people than me?”

“Oh, but who could be more important than my soon-to-be husband?” You almost choked on your own spit when he leaned down even further towards you, passing you a cheeky wink while he was “Unless said man doesn’t want to spend the evening with me, of course. Then I’d have to return to listening to my brother prattle on about whatever horse he purchased last. It would be unfathomably dreadful, to say the least, but if that’s what you–”

“No, no, I mean, I wouldn’t mind spending the evening with you!” you interjected quickly–maybe a bit too quickly judging by the bemused expression that smoothed over his features.

“Perfect!” Nikolai held out his hand expectantly, and you stared at it for a solid minute before realizing what he wanted. “Come on, get off that dilapidated excuse of a seat and take my hand.”

With a little bit of hesitation, you obliged, allowing him to pull you to your feet and drag you out of the library. His pace was quicker than you had expected–he wasn’t full-on running, but he was definitely hurrying–and you had trouble keeping up with him. When you rounded the corner that led towards the stairs stretching down to the garden, a gaggle of the ministers you had talked to earlier this morning appeared in front of you, all of them shooting upright as soon as they noticed you.

“Your Highness! We were just conversing and wondering if you and–”

“My apologies, we may have to return to that matter on another occasion,” Nikolai waved them off quickly, eliciting a few raised eyebrows and confused glances. “I have already devoted my complete attention to something else, so I won’t have the time!”

You gaped at him in shock, but he didn’t acknowledge it, only continuing his hasty pace in the direction of the garden.

“Nikolai!” you blurted, still following after him with not a clue where he was taking you. “Why did you do that? You can’t disregard your ministers like this! What will they think?”

“As you can see, I did exactly that just now. Don’t fret, they’ll have forgotten about all of this in a few minutes. They just need someone to entertain their delusions and I will not be bothered with that today.”

“They could still come and find us, you know?” you snorted incredulously.

“I highly doubt they will find us. Where I am taking you is not really all that interesting to the public eye.”

“That could either mean that you’re taking me somewhere terribly romantic or somewhere to drown me and hide my body afterwards.”

“You have a lot of faith in me, darling. But I can assure you that I’ll go for the former most of the time, the former is too much work.”

You wanted to shoot back another witty comment since you were quite enjoying the careless bickering the two of you had been going on, however, your breath caught in your throat when he pulled you through the long, flowing branches of a weeping willow and down a pretty unkempt pathway made out of rickety wooden stairs. Trees lined the stretch of grass and mud as he finally started to slow down, letting his eyes graze over the stunning display of nature surrounding you. You could hear the steady stream of a river somewhere in the thicket beside you, the assuasive sound of running water only getting disturbed by the occasional rustling in the coppice or the tweeting of birds.

“What are doing here?” you whispered, voice hushed as if you feared getting caught.

Nikolai fell into step next to you and passed you a self-satisfied grin. “Do you not like it?”

“What? No! I love it, it just makes me wonder what exactly you ditched your ministers for.”

“So me saying that I was going to devote my complete undivided attention to you was not enough? And here I thought that a lovely evening walk would convince you of the intentions behind my affections.”

“You might have to be a bit clearer in the future.”

“Oh trust me, that can be arranged.”

→ to my event post!

#— the garden celebration #nikolai lanstov x reader

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