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#anyway this comic has been sitting FOREVER first in my brain and then in my drafts ITS TIME TO POST ALREADY
crystallizsch · 18 days
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Hello Ian! ♡
I hope you're doing well!
Here's some more Jamil thoughts for you!
Something I don't see a lot of people talk about when it comes to Jamil is the idea of family recipes, more specifically, recipes that only the Viper Family know.
Food that he and Najma grew up having, learning the recipes for himself once he was older. Recipes that have been passed down in the Viper Family for generations.
I would like to imagine he wouldn't make them for Kalim, or even let him know about them, wanting to keep these foods and recipes for himself.
As he gets to know you, his feelings growing and turning to something more, he thinks of these recipes, wanting to share these foods with you.
Foods to be made and had with family. For loved ones.
As much as he tried to deny it, to fight it, he grew attached to you. Not just attached, oh no, he knew in the back of his mind what this was. He wouldn't admit it though, even when he ends up making one of the recipes for himself, wondering if you'd enjoy it as he ate.
It wouldn't be until you two were a couple that it would happen, Jamil offering to make you dinner one day. Perhaps you arrive early, and he asks if you'd like to help him prepare it. (The intimacy of cooking together, Jamil instructing you on a recipe that only he and his family members know) Once it was done and served, you both would sit down to eat, Jamil waiting for you to have the first bite.
Any compliment you give it will have a sense of pride bursting in his chest, a small smile coming to his face. He's radiating with satisfaction as you both enjoy your meal, promising to cook for you again some other time. He already has the next recipe in mind ♡
(It's up to you whether Yuusha knows the importance of the meal, as I can see Jamil either trying to be subtle and downplay it, or him simply saying it's a family recipe and having you figure out the significance of that on your own)
Thank you! ♡
SHEEPPPP I WAS ACTUALLY SOOBBINGGF
MY BRAINNNN ALHDKSJSJSJSKSBXJS THIS IS SO CUTE I WENT FERAL
i love this headcanon and i’m keeping it in my mind forever and this reminded me of my silly comic from a while ago
his cooking being basically a love language overall is so AGH and trusting you enough to share with you something that is very important to him???
i’m positively GNAWING on this so much
anyways i literally couldnt help it i may or may not have spent all day working on this with yuusha and jamil’s dynamic hdkshdjss
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So. Care to finally tell me what this is?
It's a Viper Family recipe.
Oh, no wonder. Do you only serve it on special occasions? I don't think I've had it during any Scarabia parties.
Of course you haven't. This is your first time. And we don't serve these recipes outside of the Viper Family household.
Oh, that sucks.
After Yuu took another bite, the implication of Jamil sharing this meal with her just hit her in the head that she almost spat out what was in her mouth in surprise.
Yuu and Jamil gave each other a knowing look. The prefect saw that the vice housewarden had a flushed look on his face as he tried to cover it up by sipping casually from his bowl.
Yuu was silent as she tried to rack her brain around what he just said.
Jamil attempted to look unbothered but his slightly shifting eyes and darkened cheeks had betrayed him.
So, do you… understand what this means?
Oh, Yuu definitely understood. It was making her feel flustered, giddy perhaps—happy that Jamil thought of her that way. Enough to consider her…
No. Oh, no. Jamil was making her say it. Oh, she was not going to let her do his work for him.
... I don't, Jamil. I would love for you to explain it to me.
Touché. Jamil thought as he set his utensils down with a sigh. Jamil also thought that he could decide to feign ignorance back but he knew it would be fighting fire with fire.
So might as well be direct.
Yuu, I…
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(idk i’m out of juice) (plus i do love me some uncertain endings sometimes)
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vargamornight · 1 month
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angel and spike's relationship and their eligibility for the shanshu prophecy have got my brain on puree and i'm tossing episodes in one at a time
when spike was first turned, immortality was a gift. he could live forever! the first goddamn thing he did was go to his mother and turn her. he told dru the three of them can travel the world together! it didn’t go well, but that was okay, because he still had dru, and she was his everything. she was his whole world, his sire, the woman who gave him life. she was his destiny. spike-as-william was perfectly content to just live with drusilla, and angel and darla, because he loved dru, and she loved them. they were family, they were his home, and that was all he ever wanted. just somewhere to belong.
and that pissed angelus right the fuck off. angelus, whose first act as a vampire was to kill his father, whose love for darla was more like rage, who took every opportunity to slaughter and bathe in the blood of innocents, could not fucking stand that this guy was just like "hahaha that was so funny when you killed that guy. anyway, i think i'm just gonna go hang out with dru." angelus didn’t want love, or peace, or contentment. he wanted to rip heads off of shoulders, eat babies, and rape teenaged girls. seeing spike so well adjusted made him genuinely angry, so he did something that he knew would ruffle spike's calm: he slept with dru.
ever since then, they've hated each other. angel literally started it, but neither of them was ever particularly kind about their retaliation. angel tortured spike emotionally and psychologically for like a hundred years, and spike had angel physically tortured for like, three whole hours for information, plus spike definitely went after buffy (in more ways than one) just to piss off angel. but even without a soul, spike was never anywhere near as bad as angel. not even close.
so angel gets a soul. it's an enormous burden, because of how much of a shitstain he's been for the past 150 years or whatever, and he suddenly is capable of guilt again. it's a curse.
(but then he sees a 14 year old girl, the one girl in the world who might put him out of his misery, and he, a 27-slash-200 year old man, literally immediately decides he's in love with that 14 year old girl. okay dude. sure.)
angel becomes a good guy and joins the fight against evil, instead of just eating rats and not dying, because he wants the girl to like him. she does, they bang, he loses his soul again, tortures her psychologically, kills some people, gets sent to a hell dimension, gets out, and leaves. honestly, can't blame him for that one.
angel leaves buffy voluntarily so that he won't/can't hurt her by being a shitstain without a soul again.
and then there's spike. spike basically just noodles around, delivering threatening monologues from rooftops while watching one protagonist or another, and it's very cool and scary until it's time for the dastardly plan to kick in, at which point everything immediately falls apart like a cartoon car with no bolts, leaving spike blinking comically, holding a steering wheel and sitting on air. spike refers to angel as a drama queen several times, and he's not wrong, but he is very hypocritical.
spike gets to sunnydale and goes after buffy for fun, fails terribly, then succeeds at kidnapping angel, who he needs because dru, the light of his life, his moon and stars, his effulgent beauty, his destiny, is not feeling well and he needs the blood of her sire to heal her. that's it. no real ulterior motive, no "i'm gonna getcha" threats, just. business. his wife is sick and he's getting her magical chicken noodle soup. it just so happens that the chicken in said soup is angel, and spike has no problem with that.
then he continues noodling around, tortures angel about a ring, fails terribly, goes back to sunnydale, and immediately gets caught and collared by the literally underground military group operating out of a california college campus. and then he can't hurt humans anymore without getting a migraine, and he's the world's biggest baby, so he is effectively neutered from here on out.
gradually, he learns to be less of a shithead, and falls for buffy the real way, the long way, the hard way—he sees her, and he knows her, and he learns to respect and love her. he is dogged in his pursuit of her. relentless. because even when she tells him to back off, she kisses him right after. she's putting on a show for the benefit of her own pride, and he knows that, and he understands, because he believes it when she says he's beneath her. he knows it. he's not good enough for her, and he never could be.
but he could be better.
so he leaves. he goes and gets his soul back. he fights tooth and nail to get it, almost dying several times in the process. because he's not being cursed with a soul—he's earning his. he's proving, once and for all, to himself, to angel, to buffy, to everyone, that he is better than what everyone thought he could ever be.
and, just in case anyone had any doubt, he goes back to sunnydale and he does the one thing angel could never do: he gives his life to save the goddamn world. burns up, knowing he's leaving buffy behind, knowing there's no coming back from this. knowing, ultimately, this is the only thing worth doing. he dies, not for buffy, but because it's the right thing to do.
and that pisses angel off, too.
he's like, why the fuck should it be so easy for him? all he has to do is die and now suddenly he's a hero? a champion? angel's spent a thousand years suffering! that has to be worth more! that has to mean he's the better man! because if he's not, if spike can be weighed against angel and find a balanced scale, then he suffered for nothing! and spike barely suffered at all! (factually untrue, but angel doesn't exactly see clearly when it comes to his protege) so, no. he does not keep his cool when it turns out spike is eligible for the shanshu prophecy just as much as angel
and the reason for all of angel's dumbfuck behavior is made all too clear when he tries to convince spike not to claim the shanshu prophecy for himself: "it's a burden. a cross. you have to live."
diagnosis: terminal catholicism
angel is catholic and spike is not and that's why all of this happened the way it did.
p.s. also: SPIKE WITH A SOUL WAS NOT A DIFFERENT MAN THAN THE SPIKE WITHOUT A SOUL WHO LEARNED TO BE GOOD. he put the fucking work in, he just needed it to be official. like a high school diploma. "went through hell and here's the proof."
p.p.s. also: the initial angelus getting mad was because angelus totally wanted to fuck spike, took him on a date, and spike bailed to hang out with dru, so angelus had revenge sex with dru. canon.
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whiteboardartstudios · 8 months
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[Image ID: This is a tall drawing of Eth and Gendaen from the Mysta's Terrarian Quest Tumblr Webcomic. The top half of the image shows Eth sitting alone on the edge of the Fountain of Purity in the crimtained Green Citadel, his head in his hands and surrounded by glowing golden leaves. The atmosphere is dark and gloomy, and red light shines down from the top right of the image. The bottom half of the image is upside down, like a reflection of the top half. The bottom half shows Eth and Gendaen discussing one of Gendaen's blueprints on the edge of the same fountain, except the Green Citadel had not been crimtained yet. The atmosphere would be bright and happy, if not for the dark vignette effect and messy scribbles on the outer edges of the image. Gendaen's eyes are blacked out with a scribbled rectangle. The two halves of the image are separated by a glowing white line. End ID] fanart for @mtqcomic!
I've been trying to draw something for this comic for like forever but I keep messing up TwT
This took forever to make but I'm pretty happy with it! It's not perfect but I had a lot of fun making it so I'm gonna count that as a win :D (I think Tumblr might've ate the image quality a little though...)
Here's a version without the vignette and messy scribble effects because I also really like this one!
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[Image ID: This is a tall drawing of Eth and Gendaen from the Mysta's Terrarian Quest Tumblr Webcomic. The top half of the image shows Eth sitting alone on the edge of the Fountain of Purity in the crimtained Green Citadel, his head in his hands and surrounded by glowing golden leaves. The atmosphere is dark and gloomy, and red light shines down from the top right of the image. The bottom half of the image is upside down, like a reflection of the top half. The bottom half shows Eth and Gendaen discussing one of Gendaen's blueprints on the edge of the same fountain, except the Green Citadel had not been crimtained yet. The atmosphere is bright and happy, and light yellow sunlight is shining from the bottom right of the image, where the top right would be if the image was flipped the right way up. The mountains in the background are blue and green and birds are flying in the distance. The two halves of the image are separated by a glowing white line. End ID]
Anyways here's an obligatory long post warning plus spoilers for the comic because I'm gonna go on a LOOOOOONG rant about this comic >:) *rubs hands evilly*
SO
COMIC
I've been wanting to talk about this comic for like a LONG time now but I've been saving it for when I finally posted a piece of fanart to go along with it. Now that I finished the art though, I'm free to yeet all of my brain thoughts onto a tumblr post!!!!!
Okay, first thing, LORE. LORE LORE LORE LORE LORE LORE LORE (sorry I like lore haha)
There's so many cool things going on here! You've got the whole thing with the Crimson obviously (plus the other evils but they haven't really appeared all that much yet aside from the Corruption), but then there's also the Order-Dryad thingy and the whole thing with prophecies and Destiny and of course the whole Gendaen mystery.
Speaking of Gendaen, he's a really interesting character! He hasn't appeared all that much, but he's one of the main sources of motivation for Eth! I have a few – well, more like one big convoluted and probably incorrect one – theories on what happened to him, but I wanna talk about everything else first :)
Mysta! I like how resourceful she is, and how she uses all sorts of weapons in combat! You never know when she's going pick up a random lampost or something and bonk someone over the head with it ^^ That said, I'm really curious about the whole thing about the "powerful soul". So far Mysta has done some pretty incredible things with soul magic, and it's logical to assume that they'll get more insane later on in the comic. I wonder if it will play an important part in finding Gendaen? Since she was able to sense the "undetectable watcher" who I assume is Zaïl on page 205, there is the (although rather unlikely) possibility that one day she'll get strong enough to sense wherever the heck Gendaen went.
Also, Zaïl is cool :D They seem to be sent by Yele to keep an eye on Mysta? Most likely to update her on Mysta's progress, probably. Anyways, they're cool, I love their color scheme (and design in general), and I can't wait to see them show up again later in the comic :)
Yele! She's really cool, and her beef with the Order is very interesting to read about! Also, page 173 was hilarious lol *rainbow sparkles and confetti rain down from the sky* More on her later in my conspiracy theory hehe
Eth. Eth. This guyTM. I saved him for last because WOAH there is a lot to say about Eth (plus this is where I start talking about my conspiracy theory lol). First, epic special agent war commander guide. Amazing, 100/100 idea, I love it :D Though the comment on him being "equal parts ally and enemy" is very intriguing... According to his character sheet, he's unnervingly loyal to the Order of Learning, which is a very interesting trait to single out, as it seems like it's a core part of his character. Soooo conspiracy theory time! Finally! (I've held onto this for so long oh my goodness it's probably incorrect but it's very fun to think about >:) )
So I think the Order of Learning might be evil.
*vine boom*
Okay okay okay I'm gonna explain I promise, but like, a super-powerful government organization that also controls knowledge? That's a little suspicious not gonna lie. Very Suspicious. *amogus music plays*
Maybe it's just because the Sumeru Akademiya just happened in Genshin Impact when I made this theory (yeah I like genshin please don't judge) but I feel like I don't really trust the Order? Like it's hard to explain. So you know how so far all the lore documents are canonically stuff from the Order's archive? Well one of the most important things I learned from social studies class is how to analyze sources for reliability (teachers are you proud of me) and right now I see a bunch of different sources from ONE perspective which may very well be biased, especially after what Yele told us about the "accidental" Dryad genocide which I think might not be completely accidental? Like, how convenient is it that you just "accidentally" committed genocide on the species meant to guide the Heroes of Terraria and then just conveniently replaced them with your own Guides? Like, they didn't even apologize for it either! Something fishy is going on here cmon. Maybe they want to be able to control how the future of Terraria turns out through the Heroes? IDK just something to think about I guess.
Going off of that, it may be possible that the Crimson isn't entirely evil evil. Like obviously it's bad to humans and eating away at the purity and whatnot but so far we've met several Crimson demons and only Malvox seem to be outright malicious; the other ones feel like they're just doing their jobs (especially the Imperator guy – give xem a break XD). Nelun Soma'o even had a whole conversation with us (AND answered our questions!!!! Eth take some notes please) before he officially challenged Mysta to a duel(?) If anything, they feel kind of like half mentor half rivals testing Mysta's strength than evil world-conquering warlords. Like yknow how in Pokemon you battle with people to grow stronger? Kind of like that. An antagonist but not necessarily a villain. They're just trying to exist, yknow? I do wonder what their perspective on all of this is... what's their half of the story?
Speaking of Nelun Soma'o, that lore bomb he dropped about Gendaen is really interesting (and also what started this convoluted conspiracy theory in the first place haha). So yknow how on page 229 he said that the Crimson didn't do anything to Gendaen? Well, so far he's been pretty friendly all things considered, and we don't really have any reason to distrust him, as he pointed out. Just the fact that he's leading the Crimson, and he said that "each of us fights to help someone", which is very very interesting for someone the Order deems to be evil evil. So that got me thinking, if the Crimson wasn't involved in Gendaen's disappearance, who else could? The Corruption is nearly nonexistent, the Hallow is still sealed away, the Gloome has long since been neutralized, and it's certainly not the Dryads since they're still recovering from "accidental" genocide. Oh wait, there's a super-powerful government organization that controls all knowledge who could conveniently kidnap Gendaen and just not tell Eth about it! Oh wow! I do wonder if this means we'll have to bust Malvox out of nonexistence prison though, since it seems to be the only one that might be able to tell us what happened to Gendaen since if the Order did it they're definitely not going to help us find him. Maybe Gendaen found out some terrible secret about the Order or he was starting to doubt them so they decided to take him out of the equation. Eth is not having a good time though, someone please go and give him a hug :(
Speaking of Eth, as I said earlier, his unnerving loyalty to the Order and his idolization of them seems to be a core part of his character. If the Order is indeed evil in this hypothetical scenario, it's possible for Eth to be a mislead protagonist like Zuko from ATLA. His heart is in the right place but he's helping the wrong people kinda thing. Additionally, this might mean that we'll eventually get a separation arc where Mysta does something not in accordance with the Order's will or something, and Eth's loyalty to the Order wins against his loyalty to Mysta and he becomes an antagonist. Yele could even step in as a mentor so that Mysta gets both Order guidance and traditional Dryad guidance! And then Eth somehow finds out what happened to Gendaen (Zaïl maybe? Subterfuge and cool spy stuff), maybe we get a dramatic emotional reveal scene where he is shocked and then starts to question everything the Order has ever told him, and then he either finds some way to contact Mysta or just rescues Gendaen by himself and rejoins Mysta, now fully against the Order. Plus we can get a cool reunion scene, both with Eth and Gendaen and Eth and Mysta! Yele would definitely distrust him at first, because what if this is a ruse from the Order and Eth is like double-agent-ing or something but then she sees Gendaen and goes "oh wait he's serious about this isn't he"
I'm probably wrong about all this (it's my first time making a theory out of anything plus this is super convoluted and there's a high chance that I'm connecting dots that doesn't exist), but it's still very fun to think about! I might've missed some stuff since I've been thinking about this for a very long time so I probably forgot to add some things, but either way I'm very excited to see where the comic goes! :D
Great comic, if you haven't read it go read it, it's very very good and I like it a lot :) *insert a bunch of sparkles here*
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faunina · 3 years
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it has been 84 years and i STILL regularly think about the fact that adrien voiced CHAT NOIR in the movie and NOBODY noticed
(*ofc she’s not talking about his cousin here, i just assume that the characters in the in-universe movie kept the names Bridgette and Felix)
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polonium-snap · 3 years
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The Beauty & the Deku chp. 2
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Summary: Izuku and Katsuki somehow get trapped in a book of fairy tales, to get out of it they decide to play their part in the stories. How far are they willing to go to fulfill the romantic plotlines? Will Katsuki be able to play the role of a fairy tale princess?
ao3
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When Katsuki comes to, he is washing some stairs.”Wha-? This again? You’ve got to be forking kidding me.” He stood up, inspecting his clothes, some raggedy top, and pants, which at least is not a dress,  and went to a nearby well, staring at his reflection on the water, scowling.
“Kacchan?” He heard Deku’s voice from behind, and the blonde turned to him.
“Deku!” Katsuki said. “As you can see, we are still trapped in this nightmare.” He frowns. “What do we do now?”
“Let’s continue trying to go along with the story, maybe if we do it enough times, we’ll get out of here.” Izuku suggested.
Katsuki growled. “Shut up! What do you know? This is probably your fault since you didn’t have to be at the house in the end.”
Deku frowned. “Oh yeah, Cinderella totally broke through a door like you did.”
The blonde scowled back, blustering and turning to look away from Izuku. “Whatever.”
Which was Kacchan-speak for ‘I’m sorry, you’re right', good thing Deku was an expert at reading his childhood friend. “We should continue trying to go along with the story, this time as much as we can with the original.”
“No way, nerd. I already gave that a try and we are still trapped in this hellhole.” Katsuki argued. “It makes more sense to try and make the story different, if it doesn’t let us move on we can find the reason more easily.”
“What if that just makes us be stuck here forever, Kacchan?” Izuku argued back. “Let’s do it like the story says one more time, then if we are still here we’ll try your thing.”
The blonde frowned but sighed. “Fine.”
Izuku let out the breath he was holding and stared into red eyes. “Thank you.”
Silence hung heavy for a second between them for several seconds. “I’m sorry…” Bakugou mutters, surprising Deku. “You know, for kissing you at the end…”
Izuku blushed furiously. “Oh! Uhm, i-i-it’s ok Kacchan, that actually made us move on, so…”
The implication of the previous statement weighs on them, and the silence only makes heat rise faster and more intensely into Deku’s face. If the kiss was what made them move on, did that mean they would have to again until they were out of there?
The most obvious answer was there, if they were in Snow White, like Izuku suspected, that meant they had to kiss to be able to continue with the story.
“Wh-What story are we in anyway?” Katsuki asked if only to fill the silence.
“O-oh, I think we are in Snow White.” Izuku reasoned.
“How are we meeting so early then, isn’t the prince supposed to kiss snow white at the end?” The blonde tried to remember.
“No, I think they met right at the start of the Disney movie.” Izuku explained.
“Crap I can’t remember.” The taller teen rubbed his hand on his face. “How am I going to go along with the story if I can't remember how it goes?”
The green-haired boy bit his lip, he couldn’t blame Kacchan, apart from this being a stressful situation, it has been a long time since either of them either saw the movies or read any books with fairy tales on them. “I think I know how it goes, just make sure to go near the forest and run away from the huntsman and look for a small house, it belongs to some dwarfs.” He explains. “Make sure they let you stay, cook and clean for them or something, the evil queen will look for you, to kill you, she will give you an apple, bite it, I’ll take care of the rest and then we’ll ride off to the sunset.”
“My prince.” Katsuki said sarcastically, and Izuku glared, but his cheeks felt hot. “I got it, I got it, I’m just tired of cleaning stuff, like I knew old men hate women in these stories and think their only use is to cook and clean, I get it, old news, but it’s annoying as heck, you know?”
“I get it Kacchan, I’m sorry, but I really think that we can get out if we follow the script as much as we can.”
“Yeah, except we can barely remember how it goes, you lame nerd, even just talking like this can change the story.” The fiery teen started to raise his tone. “We’re already doomed.”
Izuku cringed. “You’re right, but there must be plot points that make us move on, you know like in Cinderella, the background repeated until we did what it wanted, to move on we need to keep doing just that.” He tried to placate the other man. “This is the best plan we have right now, just go with it until we can think of something better.”
Katsuki stands staring at the other teen for a few seconds, glaring, but pondering what was said all the same. “Fine, but we better get out of this, or I’m going to explode.” He turned away and started walking toward the palace. “See you later, nerd, don’t you dare die.” He closed the doors, leaving Izuku staring.
The wardrobes the stories were putting the blonde in were killing him, he looked so handsome, even in dresses. Now the blonde wasn’t exactly wearing a dress, but elements of it were clearly borrowed, Kacchan was in rags but still looked amazing.
Izuku shook his head, this was not the time to be fawning over Kacchan, he turned around and left the grounds of the palace, unsure of what to do with himself. Jesus, fairy tale princes really were useless and had one shitty line, like Kacchan had said, though maybe like this, he could look for clues.
He looked down and sighed, even his clothes were boring.
۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵
Katsuki changes his clothes because he is not staying in some ugly rags, besides he is 70% sure Snow White wasn’t dressed so badly, she needs to be marketable, little kids wouldn't buy merch of her if she looked ugly right?
He went near the forest, as Deku had said, and sat on a rock, at least the scenery was always interesting in these stories, as Katsuki had never gone out of Japan, he could almost pretend he was visiting Europe or some shit.
“I’m sorry, princess.” Said a voice, which startled the fuck out of the blonde.
“Jesus fu-!” Katsuki turned around to find Rikido Sato, from his class. “Sato?! You are the huntsman?”
The other man’s eyes widened. “You know my name?!” His eyes watered. “The queen has never called me by my name.”
Katsuki hadn’t either until just then, but he wasn’t about to say that to a man with a weapon while he remained quirkless. “Yes, of course I know your name!” He lied, he was lucky with Sato’s last name, he was between Sato and Sota. “I’m going to be the next ruler of this kingdom, and you my loyal subject.” He was talking out of his ass. “How could I not know your name?”
Sato dropped the knife. “I can’t do it!” He cried. “The queen is trying to kill you, your best option is to run as far as you can and hope she never finds you!”
Katsuki stood up from the ground and scrubbed the dirt off his clothes. “Right, thank you, I guess, for not killing me or whatever.” He jogged into the forest, enjoying it more than he normally would, maybe because it had been a while since he had been able to make one of his mornings runs.
At some point, his foot got tangled on some tree roots and he came crashing to the ground. “Argh!” He exclaimed. “Dumb tree, dumb story, dumb Deku!” He raged, and sat on the ground, finding the cabin could wait. As he lay on the ground feeling sorry for himself he felt small tweets from above, and slowly, animals from the forest came out and stared at him.
The blonde groaned. “One of you better not be Dunce face or Hair for brains.” He couldn’t take any more woodland animals as his friends, although thankfully it seemed none of them was anyone he knew. “What are you doing here then, If not to torture me?”
All the animals started to walk toward somewhere, and Katsuki, having nothing better to do went with them, only to find the small house Deku talked about. He opened the door, finding the insides absolutely filthy. And as much as Katsuki had complained he disliked cleaning, he disliked even more letting it stay filthy.
‘Fucking fine’ He thought because only in his mind he could use his favorite words. “You win, stupid Deku, I’ll clean this pigsty.” Katsuki picked up a broom and started sweeping the comical amounts of dust and dirt, the animals around him started to do the same, and for the first time, he didn’t mind the small woodland animals that seemed to follow him lately.
When he finally finished he realized how tired he was, it had been a few days since he last slept, so maybe now he could take a nap. Bakugou climbed the stairs, peering at the small beds with the dwarf's names, he pushed some of them together so he could fit in and dropped like a log on them, paying no mind to the few small animals that cuddled him, he was too tired for that shit.
He closed his eyes and lost consciousness.
۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵
“What is that? Is it a ghost?” Said a fearful but familiar voice.
“Ha! There’s no such thing as a ghost.” An angrier voice said.
“Who cares, ghosts can’t touch you, let’s just sleep and be done with it.” Said another voice that sounded just like Aizawa.
With his sleep finally disrupted Katsuki decided to sit up and fuck up anyone who dared wake him. When he rose from the bed, multiple gasps were heard. “What is it now?” He said, the blanket still over his head, which he removed slowly.
When he finally could see, he found seven eerily familiar dwarfs looking at him and gasping once again.
“Prince!” One of them exclaimed. “What are you doing here, young prince?”
Holy shit, this dwarf was All Might. Katsuki gaped at the blonde dwarf, his face a picture of the man’s old glory.
The teen looked at the others, Aizawa, Present Mic, Koda, Kirishima, Kaminari...and Endeavour?!
“Let me guess, you,” Bakugou pointed at Aizawa. “Are sleepy, you,” Present Mic, who let out a very loud sneeze. “Are Sneezy, you,” Koda blushed. “Bashful.” Then Kirishima. “You are Happy, I guess.” Kaminari. “Dunce face, you are obviously Dopy.” Bakugou laughed. “This must be Todoroki’s old man, Endeavour.” The red-haired dwarf fumed. “That leaves you All Might, I guess you are Doc.”
All Might smiled. “Yes, young prince.” He eyed Katsuki as if searching for answers. “What brings you here?”
“Yeah, that, the queen is trying to kill me or something.” The younger man dismissed carelessly.
“The queen is trying to kill you?!” Several of the small men exclaimed.
“Yes, so let me hide here, I’ll cook and clean, or something.” Katsuki forced himself to say.
“Like we would let a stranger stay here in our h-” Endeavour started to say.
“Of course you can stay, my boy!” All Might said. “Isn’t that right?”
“Yeah!” Kirishima, Kaminari, and Present Mic said, Koda blushed, and Aizawa grunted his approval from where he slept.
Endeavour growled.
The next day, after making the seven nuisances breakfast and them lining up at the door to go to the mine, Kirishima took of his stupid hat and watched Katsuki expectantly.
“What do you want.” The blonde said, but he had started to piece what hair for brains was silently asking, the redhead wanted a kiss on his forehead, Bakugou fumed, missing the cracking sound of his quirk. The thing was Snow White obviously did so in the movie, and if he wanted to be truthful with what he promised Deku, he had to kiss the foreheads of these dumbasses and thank god they wouldn’t remember, or at least he hoped so.
He reluctantly kissed Kirishima’s forehead, cringing when the dwarf continued in his way. It didn’t take long for the rest of the short men to follow suit.
Kaminari laughed and thanked him with a teasing smile. Katsuki struggled not to punch with his bare hands. Koda, bless him, just blushed and continued on his way, Aizawa grunted, Present Mic whooped in happiness, and All Might thanked him.
Lastly, there was Endeavour, who Katsuki categorically and morally opposed kissing, as much as he hated the half-and-half bastard his old man was trash and he wasn’t about to ignore that. But he had made a promise to stupid Deku who was probably living it large somewhere as a prince.
Katsuki swallowed his pride if only because he was a man of his word.
He slowly bent to press his lips on Endeavour's dwarfed forehead, closing his eyes to avoid extra trauma, and gave him a lightning-quick kiss.
“It’s not like I wanted you to, brat!” What the fuck? Was Endeavour a tsundere?
Bakugou would never be able to look at the number one hero ever again.
While Katsuki baked a pie in the old-fashioned oven he heard some commotion on the outside. Bristling Katsiki let go of the hot pie and peeked through the window, only to see Shigaraki dressed in black rags and carrying a basket of apples.
Holy fuck, Shigaraki was the queen?!
Katsuki couldn’t help it, he burst out laughing. “You?! Your crusty musty ass is the queen? HAHHAHA” He was nearly crying, Shigaraki looked worse than normal, and that was so hard to do in the blonde’s mind that he had to give the man kudos for surpassing himself.
“W-what? No, I’m no old queen, just an old man offering such beauty an apple.” Shigaraki stuttered, quickly jumping into convincing the teen into taking the blood-red apple in his ugly hands.
Katsuki wiped his tears of laughter. “I’m just, haha, sorry, It’s just been an annoying day.” He explained. “But alright, since you made me laugh so much I’ll take the apple, thank you for the few hours of peace, while that stupid Deku makes it here.” The blonde bit the apple, promptly falling asleep as he heard Shigaraki’s pathetic laugh.
۵⚜-The Beauty and the Deku-⚜۵
Izuku panted as he followed the forest’s animals toward the dwarf's house, where he knew Katsuki was waiting for him, the queen, whoever they were, was probably already chased off a cliff and Kacchan was placed in a crystal case.
He arrived at a clearing, watching as the dwarfs mourned Katsuki’s apparent death.
Wait. Was that Endeavour?! No. No, no time for that, literally everyone they knew was becoming a supporting character in these stories, it was entirely possible Endeavour was too.
...Was he supposed to be grumpy?
Izuku shook his head away from those thoughts and focused on Katsuki’s relaxed face as he slept and the dwarfs took away the glass casing on top of the snoozing blonde. Deku had always wondered why on earth the dwarfs just took off the case for some random prince to kiss the princess? What if it was just some creep? Though he had heard the age of the actual prince was 31, while Snow White was 14, which, what the hell.
Anyways he was getting sidetracked, maybe due to the nerves of having to kiss Kacchan, and the intense gazes the dwarfs were sending the green-eyes teen. He gulped, approaching the other man’s face, suddenly feeling very hot. It's not like they hadn’t kissed before, just two days ago Kacchan had kissed him, and there was always that one time they were 4 and wanted to know what kissing felt like.
However, both times it had been Katsuki who had initiated, not Izuku, Deku had never been the one to kiss someone, and the fact they were not conscious was really bothering him. It was morally incorrect to kiss someone who was unconscious, even if he somewhat knew Katsuki would be ok with it.
He felt dirty, like a 31-year-old prince kissing a 14-year-old girl, well maybe not that dirty.
But still, he did not feel great about this.
Finally, as his lips were millimeters away from Bakugou’s, Deku avoided the pink plump lips of his classmate and kissed the other’s cheek swiftly and reeled back. Katsuki’s eyes remained closed for dreadful long seconds, until red eyes fluttered open, sleepily batting long blonde eyelashes at Izuku.
“Took you long enough, nerd.” Katsuki complained as Deku offered him a hand and a taller teen rose from the adorned crystal bed.
“Sorry Kacchan.” Izuku said, relieved that the kiss on the cheek was enough to wake the other up. “Let’s go?”
Katsuki blinked. “Oh, yeah, you said we now ride into the sunset.”
“I-I mean, y-yeah, that’s how I remember it ended.” Izuku stuttered.
“Thank god.” Katsuki launches himself at Izuku's horse, waving at the dwarfs and animals as Izuku himself mounts it.
“Are you ready?” Izuku said, feeling like he forgot something.
“Yes.” The blonde rushed, a fake smile plastered on his face as he waved. “Let’s go you stupid piece of crap.”
“Right.” Izuku instructs the horse to start moving toward the horizon where a large range of beautiful reds and oranges paint the sky.
“Thank you for nothing!” Katsuki waves again, this time his smile is more genuine as he does a pg version of his usual cursing at the dwarfs and animals that probably don’t hear him due to the distance. “Hope you trip on your horrendous beards and die!”
The green-haired teen sweat drops as Bakugou finally settles down.
That is until he notices the horizon only seems to get further away. “No! Look, we aren’t moving on!”
Deku has to agree, as he notes his surroundings, while the background isn’t repeating, there seems to be no end to the valley even as seconds turn into several minutes. Well, if it isn’t the consequences of my actions, Izuku thought as he meditated the best way to confess why they may be unable to finish the story.
“Darn it!” Katsuki growled in frustration. “I swear I did everything you told me.” He tried to explain. “I even kissed Endeavour’s old geezer head.”
“I know, Kacchan.” Izuku reassured, gulping as he realized he needed to come clean. “It is my fault.” He confessed.
“What?”
“So you know ten minutes ago when I was supposed to kiss you and wake you up from the sleeping curse?”
“Yes…?” Katsuki nodded. “What’s your point?”
“I may or may not have kissed your cheek instead of kissing you in the lips like in the traditional story.” He said sheepishly. “...Sorry...?
Katsuki slowly turns to look at the dumbass he called childhood friend. “What did you just say?”
“...I’m...sorry?” Izuku’s voice got weaker.
“What on earth is your problem?!” Katsuki bellowed, his eyes glowing red. “You SAID that we needed to follow the story to get out, you made me PROMISE I would go along with it just this once.”
The other man cringed. “I know, I know.” He whined. “I’m sorry, it’s just when I had to kiss you, you were unconscious and it just felt wrong since you never explicitly agreed that I could kiss you.”
“It was implied that I wanted to kiss you!” Katsuki yelled and then blushed, Izuku did too. “I mean, it was implied I was ok with it, you bumbling buffoon!” He screeched.
“Buffoon...?” Izuku mumbled as he stared in surprise at red embarrassed eyes.
“Ughhh!” Katsuki said in frustration. “Being this mad without using my quirk is making me lame.” He explained to himself, he took the reins of the still moving horse and yanked it so it stopped. Then he threw his legs over the animal so Bakugou was fully facing Deku. “Let’s just kiss so maybe this can be over, you piece of garbage.”
Katsuki pulled Izuku roughly so their noses were touching. “Don’t think for a second I’m not going to kick your ass into the next century after we get back to UA.”
Before Izuku could respond, their lips smashed together, harder and deeper than necessary, all while he was vaguely aware the world started to crumble and fade into white once again.
62 notes · View notes
emsvegetables · 3 years
Text
16th: fake-dating with kuroo.
- in which he needs a date to his cousin’s wedding or his mom is going to try to marry him off to a random girl. and who’s there to save the day? you!
no. of words: 2.4k
hi. okay. i actually have no idea how much words this fic contains. and I APOLOGISE BUT I PROBABLY RAMBLED ON TOO MUCH BECAUSE I LOVE THIS TROPE SO MUCH and this is actually kinda shitty and bumpy because i just wrote whatever came to my mind so i hope this isn’t too messy and I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS :”””””)
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“just hire an escort.”
you raise an eyebrow when you hear the words drift into the kitchen from the living room, and you take five cans of sprite from the fridge and two packets of chips from the cupboard, and when you pad back into the living room, you meet kuroo’s frustrated face, akaashi’s amused one, tsukishima’s normal face, and bokuto’s excited one.
“what’s this i hear about hiring an escort?” you ask, and try to shift the packet of chips to your other hand so the cans won’t roll out of your hands, and you shoot a smile at kuroo when he pushes himself off the couch and heads towards you to help you take the cans out of your hands. it’s times like these where kuroo makes your heart skip a beat. he was always there to help you carry things if you needed someone to.
you pass the chips to bokuto and tsukishima, and settle into an empty spot in between akaashi and kuroo and reach for the television remote to browse through netflix. kuroo instantly stretches out a hand to rest on your shoulders. it’s something he always did, and it just showed how comfortable he was with you. but recently, it’s been causing your heart to flutter just a little bit.
“well?” you say, when the room still remains silent, save for the crinkling of the chips’ packet and the opening of the cans of sprite.
“didn’t kuroo tell you?” akaashi asks, and you tilt your head slightly to the side when he looks at you with a questioning gaze, and you turn to give kuroo a questioning gaze as well.
he’s avoiding your eyes, which means that he’s either embarrassed or frustrated, and you aren’t quite sure which one he is.
“my cousin’s getting married,” he finally says after a short pause, “the one you met during christmas dinner? do you remember her? the accountant?”
“oh!” you say, and nod fervently and smile when you remember how she looked like, “the christmas dinner two years ago? the one that has tortoise-shell glasses? the pretty one?”
kuroo nods, and he lifts up a hand to run through his messy hair, “yeah, well. she’s getting married this weekend.”
you almost tell him to give her your congratulations, but you frown, “and what’s that got to do with hiring an escort?”
a red flush overcomes kuroo’s cheeks, and you blink when you realise that this is the first time you’ve ever seen him so red.
“that’s n-not my idea,” he finally bites out, and he’s looking away from you, and you raise an eyebrow again because that didn’t answer your question, and you’re really confused.
then you hear tsukishima’s laugh.
“his mom told him that she’s going to introduce him to a girl at the wedding. apparently he’s at the age where he should be dating or he’ll be single forever. he’s trying to find a way to get out of this.”
you let out a snort when tsukishima finishes the sentence, and kuroo turns back to glare at you, his face still a little red.
“guess who that girl is,” kuroo grumbles, and you laugh, but stop short when kuroo doesn’t smile.
“who?”
“yura babbington.”
“wait, what?” bokuto cuts in, and laughs loudly, “you didn’t tell us it was yura babbington!”
yura babbington was your university’s resident entitled drama queen. she was rude to the waitresses in restaurants when she went out for lunch. she was an asshole to the cleaners in your university. yura once made everyone believe that a girl kissed her own cousin because the girl showed interest in yura’s ex boyfriend.
“this is going to be gold, kuroo,” tsukishima smirks, “you and yura babbington? amazing. the ultimate power couple.”
kuroo flips the middle finger at tsukishima, and burrows his head into your neck and groans sadly, “help me, (Y/N).”
you have to force yourself to not allow the flush to rise to your face.
“what can i even do?” you laugh, and pat his his head with your free hand, “i don’t think i can even do anything, mr babbington.”
akaashi snorts.
you laugh again when kuroo pulls away from you with the most scandalised look on his face, and you yelp when kuroo tucks his fingers into your sides and begins to tickle you.
“apologise!” he demands, and you laugh again as you squirm on the couch to try to escape his fingers digging into your side.
“no!”
“you can’t joke about me becoming mr babbington! i’m going to fucking hurl!”
you’re about to tease him again when bokuto cuts in, “i think hiring an escort is a good idea! he can have a date the entire time during the wedding and his mom won’t try to hook him up with yura because he’s with someone!”
you laugh again when kuroo flips the middle finger at bokuto, and slumps back into the couch with a frown on his face.
“i’m not going to hire an escort.”
“why not, it’s still better than being mr babbington, right?” you grin, and grimace when kuroo flicks your forehead.
“because.”
“because?” akaashi prods, and kuroo glares at him.
“because it’s weird, i don’t even know the escort,” kuroo says, and takes a swig from his can of sprite.
“i have an idea!” bokuto says excitedly as akaashi scrolls through the netflix catalogue
to finally settle on which movie to watch, “(Y/N), what if you become his date for the wedding?”
“what? are you serious?” you laugh, and when you meet kuroo’s eyes, there’s a flash of something in there but you’re not quite sure what it is because it’s gone when he blinks. you’re sure that the flush you were try to surpress has risen to your face this time.
“yeah? why not? kuroo’s super comfortable with you. you’re super comfortable with kuroo. just pretend it’s a usual outing? y’all always go on outings together anyway,” bokuto shrugs, and kuroo’s slowly sitting up a little straighter as bokuto continues to ramble on.
“(Y/N)...”
“kuroo...”
“please...”
“what do you want me to do? play your doting girlfriend?”
“...yes?”
you shake your head and turn away from kuroo to face the television.
“please? you’re my best friend. the sweetest person i know. the most nicest person i know. the bestest person i know. the prettiest—“
you scoff (because what the hell—how can he say such things to you so easily?), “you’re just a sweet talker.”
he grins at you, “is it working?”
“can’t you find someone else?”
“you’re the only girl i know.”
you roll your eyes, “that’s a lie. what about kaori? yukie? yumi? miyo?”
it’s kuroo’s turn to roll his eyes,” well, yeah. but you’re the only one which i would actually date.”
“you’re not helping your case,” you say sternly, and try to cover up the fact that your heart is now hammering against your chest.
“please?” kuroo says again, smiling at you, “c’mon, i’ll buy you those vanilla crepes that you like so much.”
you sigh.
-
kuroo blinks when he sees you head towards him and he has to slap himself mentally because holy shit, how can someone look this good? he’s been harbouring a major minor crush on you for a few years now, and every single day he looks at you, you always look prettier than you looked the day before.
you’re looking absolutely beautiful in that dress of yours, and your hair is pulled back into a pretty half-up hairdo, and you look so fucking good, and his mind just goes blank.
“hey, kuroo. what’s up with you?” you shoot him a smile and he just feels like his brain has short-circuited.
“you look really pretty,” he blurts out, and damn it, he didn’t mean to say it out loud, and thank you, he will be ascending to heaven right now.
you laugh, and he has never heard something so pleasing before, “you’re not too bad yourself. you clean up well, huh?”
he manages to get a hold of himself to realise what you just said, and he frowns comically, “what’s that supposed to mean, ma’am?”
you laugh, and dart out of the forehead flick he sends your way, “well—“
“tetsurou? darling?”
the both of you turn, and kuroo watches your smile widen as you recognise the person who just spoke.
“mrs kuroo!” you trill, and you spread open your arms to pull his mom into a hug, and kuroo has never been so jealous of his mom before.
“(Y/N)!” his mom gushes, wrapping her arms around you tightly, “it’s so nice to see you! it been three months since we last saw each other, and you’re still so pretty!”
you laugh, and beam brightly at his mom while she rambles on about what you missed out on on, and kuroo can’t help but think that you just fit in so well in his family.
“oh, so tetsurou brought you here?” his mom asks, and when you nod, she turns to give kuroo a look, “he didn’t mention that he was bringing anyone.”
“it’s not his fault, mrs kuroo! to be honest, it was my fault. we’ve been dating for a while now and i wanted to keep our relationship private, so i told him to not tell anybody,” you say, and kuroo almost laughs at how quickly and smoothly you came up with the lie. and now he can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to date you. he’s been thinking about it for a while now, but he doesn’t want to ruin the relationship between the both of you, so he’s been keeping things to himself.
“tetsurou! why didn’t you tell me earlier? now yura—“
“tetsurou?”
the both of you freeze when you hear the sickly-sweet honeyed voice, and kuroo stiffens when he catches sight of the figure sashaying towards the both of you.
“hi mrs kuroo! and hey, tetsurou! it’s so nice to finally be able to spend time with you! you’re always around that girl—“ yura falls silent when she makes eye contact with you, and smiles at you.
“(Y/N), is it? i believe we haven’t had the chance to interact. i’m yura marie babbington, but you can call me yura marie,” yura sticks out a hand for you to shake and smiles at you expectantly.
“it’s a pleasure, yura.”
“maybe you misheard me, i said you can call me yura marie.”
“yura is easier to pronounce,” you say cheerfully, and kuroo has to choke back a laugh.
you smile brightly as yura tries to mask her scowl with a smile as she turns to face kuroo’s mom.
“mrs kuroo, i hoped that i would be able to get to know tetsurou a little more..privately.” yura reaches forward to lace her fingers with kuroo’s, and kuroo instantly unlaces them and reaches for yours instead.
“yura, call me kuroo. tetsurou is only for people i’m close to,” kuroo says, and he smiles a little when he feels your hand squeezing his slightly.
“i assumed that i could call you tetsurou, because we’re going to be dating, no?” yura smiles at him, but her smile falters when she catches the sight of your linked arms.
“i’m sorry, i assumed that you should be holding hands with me instead of her,” yura says, and reaches forward to try to hold kuroo’s hands, but before kuroo can react, you’re pulling his hands back and smiling at yura.
“sorry, yura, but i’m afraid he’s taken,” you say, and kuroo swears he sees sparks fly around the both of you when you tiptoe up to press a kiss onto his lips.
when you pull back from the kiss, yura merely scoffs and stalks away and mrs kuroo looks like she was torn between frowning and smiling.
“i’ll go clear things up with yura,” she finally says, before giving the both of you hugs, “and tetsurou, i expect to hear details about how you got with (Y/N)!”
when she rushes away, kuroo grins when you let out a sigh of relief.
“i don’t think i’m going to be mr babbington anytime soon,” he smirks, and you let out a laugh.
“oh my gosh,” you say suddenly, and he startles, and turns to face you, “what’s wrong, (Y/N)?”
“i’m sorry i kissed you so suddenly just now, i just thought that it was the only way yura would—“
“it’s fine—“
“no! it really isn’t! we didn’t really establish what we could do and—“
“(Y/N)—“
“i’m so sorry if i made you uncomfortable—“
“(Y/N),” kuroo says firmly, and you freeze in the middle of your words and stare up at him, “it’s fine, okay? the kiss didn’t make me uncomfortable.”
he watches your shoulders sag in relief, and he clenches his jaw when he realises that it was now or never.
“hey, (Y/N)?”
“yeah? oh no, was it the kiss? it was really unco—“
“i like you.”
“i understand if you—wait what?”
he laughs at how adorably confused you look, with your nose scrunching up and your eyes squinting at him.
“kuroo, can you say what you said again? i think i misheard it.”
“you didn’t mishear anything,” he laughs softly, and he feels his heartbeat quicken when you stare down at your feet.
“uh, i didn’t make you uncomfortable, right?” he says after a minute, and he almost wants to punch himself for putting you in this position when you shake your head quickly.
“no. no! you didn’t make me uncomfortable. i was just thinking,” you quickly say, and he nods.
“kuroo?” you finally say after another minute of silence, and you hear him let out a quiet, “yeah?”
“i like you too.”
and just like that, kuroo feels the tension in the air evaporate, and he grins at you before leaning down to press a kiss onto your lips.
“(Y/N)?” he mumbles against your lips after he pulls away slightly.
“yeah?”
“you know you can call me tetsurou, right? you could’ve called me by that a long time ago.”
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416 notes · View notes
sorryimanon · 3 years
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Pairings: Bakugou Katsuki x fem!Reader, Izuku Midoriya x NB!Reader
Warnings: some angst, FLUFF, and our boys being the best boys.
In which they comfort you after a rough day or week
A/N: im sorry if Izukus section is shorter than Bakugou’s. trying to practice writing other characters. enjoy!
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Saturday's are reserved strictly by the majority of the girls from class 1-A, leaving the guys to hibernate inside their dorms as they allow the commencement of girls night. You've never rain checked nor rejected the idea of spending  quality time with your friends, considering all the tribe's and trepidation's everyone has endured together during their time at the academy. It's nice to just strip away the stress and dip your toes in pure relaxation.
Unfortunately, you woke up with a bad case of cloudy thoughts. For the past week you've been carrying the weight of dread, causing your mood to drastically change throughout the day. You'd be having a civil conversation with someone one minute and then the next minute you're completely irritated by their presence. You've tried to balance it out and fix it overnight with the regimes you researched on the internet. A new sleeping schedule, healthier diet, yoga, and even went to the extreme of writing in a journal. It was all so cut throat and prestigious, nothing close to your liking. Katsuki made fun of you for it one day when he snuck into your room and read the many inscriptions in your journal entries.
"This stuff reminds of Deku. Always shoving his nose in that stupid notebook of his," he didn't care much to hear your refutes about Izuku. "Anyways, what's with all this depressing shit you are writing? You don't really feel this way do you?"
You didn't give him a definite answer that day. Only a curt "no" and he resumed rambling about his day like nothing happened, having you listening with his voice like white noise going in one ear and out the other.
And that's how it went on throughout the duration of the prior week before Saturday.
Inside the confinement of your dorm, you made the rational decision to sleep in instead of attending classes. The chilling thoughts kept you up all night, never once allowing sleep to take full throttle. You tossed and turned around on your bed, unable to shut off your brain. So when you woke up in the peak of late afternoon, you weren't surprised to see the unread messages on your phone. All of them were from your explosive boyfriend.
King Explosion🤍: Oi you running late? Mr.Sleepy head is taking roll call
King Explosion🤍: y/n where tf r u?
King Explosion🤍: fine don't answer me ig
King Explosion🤍: are you at least coming down for lunch? i made curry last night and imma make you finish it
King Explosion🤍: fking hurry before dunce face eats it
King Explosion🤍: nvm he ate it 😐
Katsuki never intended for the message to be funny. He's probably blowing actual steams of smoke through his nostrils and ears while chasing kamanari amongst the halls. The comical imagery made you laugh harder. At least he made you crack a smile. You haven't shown any emotions let alone a hint of enthusiasm for tonight.
Maybe it'd be best to sit this one out.
"Hey, we're missing a person! Where's my y/n?" Mina asked after scanning the group of girls huddled around on the carpeted floor.
Momo shifted uncomfortably on the cushioned pillow she stole from the couch. "Y/N said she wasn't feeling too well to join us for tonight. Something about food poisoning and throwing up every hour."
In unison all the girls gasped, along with a concerned 'ribbit' from Tsuyu.
"Well I hope she gets to feeling better. I wouldn't want her to endure such sickness for much longer," Tsuyu croaked out.
Everyone in the circle agreed and promised to pay a visit later in the night to check on you.
On the fourth floor, Katsuki stared blankly at his phone, hands shaking due to the repressed anger he's been holding. Each of the messages he sent previously were all left on read, including the one he sent an hour ago asking if he could have a cuddle session with you before girls night. Yes, even an ill tempered guy such as him enjoys sappy shit like cuddling. After pacing back and forth in his room for a solid 5 minutes, he was now dead set on confronting you in front of your friends.
Katsuki made a beeline for the elevator and aggressively pressed the 1st floor button repeatedly in hopes it'll make the process go quicker. He reached the commons area in precision time, overhearing the girls giggle after someone suggested playing truth or dare. He towered over Uraraka's figure, casting a demonic shadow version of himself in the circle. Hagakure shrieked and clung onto Jirou.
"Where's y/n you extras?" He demanded, voice deafening the brunette under him.
"She didn't come tonight. She's in her dorm room sick," Jirou explained to him as she tried pry the invisible girl off her arm.
"Like hell she's sick!" Katsuki spun around quickly and retreated back to the elevator, mumbling obscenities under his breath. "She's going to pay for being so careless and irresponsible."
The commons room fell silent once the explosive blonde disappeared behind the doors of the elevator, all eyes searching each other in complete shock. Uraraka was the first to speak out of the small group.
“Should we warn y/n that Bakugou is coming for her?”
Jirou averted her gaze to the direction bakugou left off from, a ghost of a smirk spreading on her face.
“Nah. Knowing y/n, she can handle the asshole on her own.”
King Explosion🤍: can i come over? i wanna cuddle, i miss u
The text message kept flashing behind your eyes every-time you closed them - a sad image of Katsuki waiting impatiently for you to reply back with a heart or one of those unusual memes he unapologetically adores. You knew he’d be furious, no doubt about it, but you rationalized your decision and concluded it would be best to avoid your boyfriend like the plague till this undesired feeling dissipates. Katsuki doesn’t do well with people being emotional, let alone handle his own emotions for god’s sake.
Your own thoughts were interrupted by someone raping the outside of your door. The continuous knocks made your head spin, a painful sting ghosting back and forth between your eyes. Remembering back to an hour ago, you messaged one of the girls that you weren’t going to make it to tonight’s session. Surely they respected your wishes and continued on with their hangout? But you forgot about the one person who’s persistent and stubborn like a cat.
“I know you’re in there y/n! You may have fooled your idiotic friends with a lie, but you keep on forgetting you’re terrible at lying!” Katsuki hollers against the wood of the door, not once being considerate of those living above her.
He’s right. You’re absolutely horrible at making up excuses for yourself. Dating someone as intuitive as him will be the death of you.
“If there’s something going can you at least let me in? You can’t ignore me forever y/n.”
Again, he’s right.
You slipped out from the comfort of your bed and padded towards the door, mentally preparing for the blonde to scold you once he enters your room. What you weren’t prepared for was the tears swelling up in the ducts of his vermillion eyes - his hands clenched tightly into fists as he looked down at you. Your breathing hitched when his arm outstretched to rest on the door frame to keep his trembling body steady.
“What the hell y/n? Why the fuck have you been ignoring me?! Did I do something wrong?!” He asked, not caring about his current appearance.
You grab ahold of his other arm and absentmindedly started rubbing it affectionately, trying to coax him into calming down. “Katsuki no! You didn’t do anything wrong! Why would you think that?”
“Because dumbass, you’ve been distant this past week,” he paused, choking on his words. “Are...are you breaking up with me?”
Your eyes shot up instantly at his horrifying assumption. “Katsuki, if I tell you the truth, will you promise not to make things worse for me?”
He tilted his head in confusion, but nodded once you led him into your messy bedroom. Once inside, your boyfriend plopped down on your bed, watching intently as you anxiously bit down on your nails - a nervous habit you picked up at the beginning of the school year.
“I’ve been feeling weird lately. Ever since the beginning of last week. I don’t know how to describe it but, my brain is constantly feeding into my already negative state. Telling me things I know aren’t true but I’ve convinced myself they are. Almost as if a grey cloud is hovering above me,” tears were already starting to pour down your cheeks. “I just...I just feel so miserable and lonely and useless and irritated and- I’m so sorry for ignoring you. You probably want nothing to do with me after this!”
You manage to turn away from the sight of the blonde during your speech, ashamed of pouring out your emotions onto a person who disregards other peoples emotions and constitutes them as a quote on quote “pussy”.
From behind, you can hear faint shuffling nearing your already shaken up figure. A pair of muscular arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a wall that could only be described as his own chiseled chest, doing the same as you did moments ago with his arm - lulling you to calm down a notch before he stared speaking.
“If you been feeling this way, why lie when I asked you a few days ago after reading your journal?”
“I know how you are, Katsuki. You get very uncomfortable when people talk about their feelings. So, why should I be any different?”
Your boyfriend suddenly maneuvers you around in the circle of his arms, shifting to where you’re now making direct eye contact with him. His gaze intense and unwavering.
“Because you’re my girlfriend? I don’t give a rats ass about any of these extras. When it comes to you, I’d make an exception for. I made that promise to myself when we first started seeing each other. So don’t think for a second that I’ll disregard your true feelings, dumbass.” He stepped a couple of inches backwards, ankles eventually hitting the bottom of your bed - making him fall and dragging you along with him. You landed on top of him, head still buried in the depths of his hard chest. The vibrations of his chuckle shook your whole body. Katsuki gently titled your head to be leveled with his, a red tint of blush painting his pallid cheeks.
“I’m being serious though. Don’t be afraid to come to me when things get tough, okay? I love you too much to see you like this.”
Next thing you knew your boyfriend stole your breath away by meshing his plump lips onto yours, hands snaking their way into your hair and carefully massaging it. By all means, you let him have his way with you by kissing the sadness away, tears puddling together cheek on cheek.
He let go eventually, pecking a quick chaste kiss on the side of your mouth before hauling you further into the bed. You settled on letting him spoon you, knowing how much he likes the feeling of your backside pressed against him, and the fruity aroma of your hair infiltrating his senses.
“I promise Katsuki,” you said after some time during the cuddle session.
He shifted in his spot, head placed firmly in the crook of your neck. “Promise what?”
“That I’ll come to you when these thoughts return again. I should trust you by now, and I need to not let these emotions ruin everything in my life. I love you that much.
Your confession swelled the very last evidence of Katsuki being a human being, his heart.
He smiled weakly to himself and nuzzled more into your shoulder, brushing his warm lips against the tender skin. “You better, dumbass.”
-
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Today was just so exhausting, and the big fat 'D-‘ written in red ink on your final report was the icing on the cake. To make things even worse, Aizawa reminded the whole class before the exam that this was to determine wether or not if you'll be joining the training camp that'll commence the following winter break.
Hopefully this was one of your teacher's terrible deception tactics into making everyone do their absolute best, go plus ultra even. But to your dismay, he was indeed very serious of the matter this time.
It wasn't your fault, not entirely. You stayed up all night listening to another one of your boyfriends rambles, the conversation lasting till 2 am. Izuku grew worrisome and anxious ever since his encounter with a gruesome villain, thus resulting in him to pour his emotions out onto you. Poor baby kept mentioning the safety of All Might and you.
Solemnly, you left class and trailed back to your dorm room, wanting to ignore the jovial atmosphere inside the cramped room as everyone traded and talked about their scores.
Izuku noticed you leaving abruptly and got up from his desk to follow you behind, bidding a quick goodbye to his friends.
Your room was dark and dramatically colder than usual, a trickle of light threatening to pour in from the cascading sunset. You laid down on your stomach with one of your pillows propped on your head, in hopes to shield away anyone from seeing your ugly-crying face.
Too late because Izuku was already standing outside your dorm room, swaying back and forth on his feet while biting down harshly on his lip. He can hear your soft cries seeping through the door. He doesn't know why he's hesitating, he's your boyfriend after all.
Moments later you hear the acute sounds of someone knocking on your door, followed by the soft spoken voice of your green haired boyfriend.
"Baby? Can I come in? I-If that's okay with you I m-mean! It's alright if you need some space but you left class so early I figured something happened to you and I got really worried because you always wait for Iida and uraraka to walk us back to the dorms as a group and maybe it had something to do with what I was telling you last night-."
You crack the door just a smidge before fully opening it, revealing your bloodshot eyes and tear stained shirt to him. His breathing hitched once his eyes fixated on your disheveled state. 
"Can you comfort me? I need you right now Izuku," your voice cracked a little, throat still tight after the crying session.
His strong, lean arms wrapped around your body momentarily, encasing you into a bear hug. Hugs from Izuku were amazing, no exceptions. He placed a quick peck on the crown of your forehead.
"C'mon, let's get inside and snuggle. How does that sound?" he asked as he unwrapped himself and took your trembling hand, leading you back inside the dimly lit room.
Izuku laid you gently down on your side once reaching the bed, crawling alongside with you before  draping the covers over the both of you. His familiar hands snake around your waist and nudges you to roll over. You obliged and shifted your body to face his, sparkly green eyes staring straight at you.
"Tell me, what's wrong baby? Does it have to do with the recent exam?" his thumb started tracing delicate lines on your hips, your uniform long gone and now replaced with comfortable clothes instead.
"I failed Izuku...I did so terrible on the written exam. I kept falling in and out of sleep during the test that I didn't have time to finish the middle portion of it," you exhaled a shaky breath. "Who knows what'll happen on the practical. I'll probably fail that too...I'm such a failure compared to everyone."
Izuku grabbed the tender flesh of your cheeks and directed your vision to level with his. He looked angry and concerned.
"Don't say that y/n! You're not a failure! That exam doesn't determine wether or not if you're good enough to be a hero. I've seen you in action hun, and I know for a fact that you're possibly the most strongest person I've met in my lifetime! You're ambitious, smart, determined, and so freaking beautiful." He then kissed you tenderly on the lips, his eyes closing slightly due to the contact.
"So...freaking...beautiful." He whispers against your mouth.
His sentimental words were enough for you to push back the negativity and simply enjoy the intimate moment.
Izuku lifted his head away from your face to rest it against your temple. "You're going to do great things, okay? One failing grade isn't going to be the end of the world. Trust me sweetheart, I've had my fair share in failures during our time here in Yuuei. But look at me now, still standing."
You nuzzled more into his chest, tickling his chin with your hair. Faintly, you can hear the pitter patter of his heart beat bursting through his rib cage.
"Would you love me even if I was a horrendous looking-failure?" you were clearly teasing him, but sometimes Izuku became dense when it came to that.
"Y/n! W-Why would you ask that! Of course I would you dummy! I'd love you no matter what."
This time you return the favor and kiss him, knowing how to easily fluster him in seconds. He whimpers into your mouth at the sudden contact and cups your jawline affectionately.
The two of you stayed like that till the moon shone through the balcony curtains, illuminating your skin in a dusty glow.
Lips bruised and swollen red, you laid lifelessly in his arms, letting him wove his scarred fingers through your hair. Izuku would occasionally stop to peck your lips, then resumes his attention back to your hair.
"I'm sorry by the way. I shouldn't have kept you up last night before the exam. I'm such a horrible boyfriend..." he admitted suddenly.
"Yes. Yes you are."
He gasped and stopped his movements altogether, obviously taken aback by your blunt words.
You giggled and said, "Kidding. You're the best boyfriend. Apology accepted.”
After hearing that, Izuku shoved himself onto your chest and let out muffled cry. "D-Don't scare me like that. Almost made me have a heart a-attack!"
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eminems-skittles · 3 years
Text
cosplays and crushes [penelope garcia x reader]
penelope garcia x fem!reader warnings: none word count: 2.3k
☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚:⠀ *⋆.*:・゚ .: ⋆*・゚: .⋆
     The hot San Diego sun had started to set on the line full of costume-clad convention goers. Penelope and Spencer, decked out in their Doctor Who and Rose Tyler cosplays, had been camped out since 4 in the afternoon. They just so happened to be in San Diego for a case when Rossi surprised the two nerds with tickets to Comic Con. Hotch had already agreed to giving them the weekend off in order to attend the event, saying they deserved the break and to be around people who understand what they're talking about. After some pushback from Spencer and Penelope, not because they didn't want to go but because they didn't want to be out of state if there was an emergency, they gladly accepted the tickets. The rest of the team, having been aware of the surprise, had already booked hotel rooms at a fancy hotel in San Diego as well. They had all decided that it was time for a well deserved break from their demanding jobs.
   Currently, Spencer and Penelope were in line for the Doctor Who panel. They were surrounded by people who shared their love of the show. While everyone there were all dressed in cosplays and costumes, one specific person caught Penelope's eye. Well, technically, she noticed the girl as soon as they arrived in line. This particular girl had (Y/H/C) and was dressed as (Y/F/C). She was there, apparently by herself. After two hours of constant chatting with Spencer about what they are looking forward too, their theories of previous cases, and Penelope's not so secretive constant checking to see if maybe the beautiful stranger's friends had finally showed up, Penelope had finally gathered the courage to introduce herself to the lonely girl. Spencer, being the expert profiler he is, had already picked up on Garcia's growing curiosity about the lonesome girl.
   Spencer leaned close to Penelope, to ensure that the girl wouldn't hear him, and whispered, "Just talk to her Pen. She won't bite."
   "Aw but I like it when they bite," Penelope whined jokingly, winking at the now blushing Spencer. She pinched his cheek, "Oh ease up, kiddo. I'm kidding. I would talk to her but what if she shoots me down? She is way out of my league. Besides, what am I supposed to say?"
   "Pen, believe me, she is not out of your league. She's here isn't she? You two are in the same league. Just talk to her." Spencer tried to convince her. If the girl they were talking about wasn't so close, Spencer might have also mentioned that he noticed the girl looking at Penelope also. But for now, he'd keep that too himself.
   Penelope took a deep breath, making eye contact with Spencer, who gave her a small reassuring small, before turning around to face the girl. She waved before introducing herself, "Uh, hi! My name is Penelope and this is my friend Spencer! I really like your costume! (Y/F/C) is one of my favorites!"
   "Oh hi!" she waved at spencer slightly before directing her attention back to Penelope. "My name is Y/N! Thank you so much! It took forever to make. I like yours too! Where are you from?"
   "We're from Virginia, we were out here for work and one of our co-workers surprised us with tickets. How about you? Where are you from?"
   "Oh that's awesome! I'm actually from Virginia also! How funny! I live in Richmond for work but when I'm not working I live in (Y/H/T)." Y/N said, her eyes lighting up when she heard that the pretty girl in front of her lived in the same state as her. "If it's not too much to ask, where do you guys live? I'm not a stalker I swear." She added quickly.
   Spencer and Penelope shared an amused look, before laughing slightly.
   "We live in Quantico. Spence and I work for the FBI." Penelope hoped it was okay that she told this stranger that she was an FBI agent. However, Spencer didn't stop her so she assumed it was okay. "What do you do for work?"
    "Oh well I am an elementary school teacher so when school is session, I live in Richmond but during summer I go back home to help out my family. It's not the best situation but I make it work," She laughed slightly. Penelope decided then and there that she loved Y/N's laugh. "Anyway, what do y'all do for the FBI, that is if you're allowed to say."
   "Well I am a tech analyst for the Behavioral Analyst Unit, or the BAU as we call it. So I basically research suspects, victims, open cases, stuff like that and send it to the team." Penelope explains, being careful not to spill too much about her job.
   "And I'm a profiler for the BAU. So while Penelope is at the office, the other agents and I are in the field, examining crime scenes and catching serial killers and bad guys," Spencer explained.
   "Wow, you guys have such cool and important jobs." Y/N said.
   "Yeah, I guess we do," Penelope said, smiling brightly at Y/N. "So are you here by yourself?"
   "Unfortunately. My girlfriend was supposed to come but uh she broke up with me two weeks ago and it was too late to refund the tickets. I needed time away from there anyway" Y/N looked sad as she explained. Penelope looked at Spencer, her eyes silently pleading with him. Spencer looked at Y/N, then at Penelope, before slightly nodding his head.
   "Oh no! I'm so sorry, hon! If you'd like, you can stick with Spencer and I. We're staying at the main hotel with our coworkers. You are more than welcome to join us!" Penelope said, silently cursing herself for sounding so eager. How she already managed to have feelings for this girl so fast was beyond her. Normally, it took her a few days before developing feelings for someone. Yet here she was, having the most mundane conversation with this random girl.
    Thoughts started zooming around in Penelope's brain. Surely it has to be fate that they were both here. Penelope never planned on going to Comic Con until a few days ago. She didn't even plan on going to this panel because she had thought they missed it. And yet, here she was, talking with the prettiest girl she had ever seen. She almost couldn't form proper sentences. Y/N's smile seemed to cause her brain to short-circuit.
    "Are you sure? I don't want to impose. This is your guys vacation." Y/N hesitantly said.
     "It's fine, really, Y/N. It would be fun. Comic Con isn't a place to be alone at." Spencer cut in, a small smile stretching across his face. This was the first time he had seen Penelope act like this in front of a girl, and with everything that Penelope did for him and the team, he figured it was time he did something for her.
    Y/N contemplated for a second. A very small part of her was saying no, because she had just met these people. But then she reasoned that they are FBI agents so they wouldn't hurt her. She also already had started developing a small crush on Penelope. She knew she shouldn't of been catching feelings so quickly. It had only been two weeks since her ex had broken up with up her. However, in this moment, Y/N could care less. If her ex didn't want to be with her anymore, that was no longer her problem. She couldn't spend the rest of her life being sad about someone who did not care about her anymore.
     "If you're sure about this, then of course! You guys seem really fun and I'd love to hangout!" Y/N agreed.
    Penelope and Y/N shared a smile, getting momentarily lost in each others eyes. They stayed like that until Spencer nudged Penelope with his elbow. Once they were broken out of their trance, Penelope and Y/N had realized that the line had finally started moving. Once they got into the panel, Y/N, Penelope, and Spencer sat down as close to the front as possible. Throughout the panel, Y/N and Penelope silently fangirled as Spencer watched intently, no doubt trying to memorize everything that everyone said. Not that he had to try.
     At the end of the panel, around 9:00 at night, the trio was trying to figure out where to go for dinner. Spencer, who was eager to tell Derek about Penelope's new love interest, excused himself to the hotel for the night, saying he was too tired and to go out without him.
    "Let's go change into normal clothes and meet up in 15 minutes? We can go to the hotel bar or go to a restaurant in town?" Y/N asked, secretly hoping this dinner would turn into a date. The day she had spent with Penelope was one of the best days she had had in a long time. Even when she was with her ex-girlfriend. Penelope agreed before they headed to their respective rooms to change into clothes for the evening.
   After they got ready, they met in the hotel lobby and decided on staying at the hotel restaurant and bar. Penelope decided against going into town because of what she sees everyday in her line of work. Y/N did not mind, she just wanted to spend time with Penelope.
   The two had ended up getting kicked out of the hotel bar, having stayed until 2 in the morning. They had decided to make their way to the pool to just sit and talk.
   "Thank you for the wonderful night, Penny," Y/N said, smiling at the slightly taller girl. Y/N was slightly tipsy, leaning her head against Penelope's shoulder.
   "You know, I think you're one of the first people to call me Penny, doll face," She said giggling a bit harder than she should have. "You're welcome, sweetcheeks. I had an amazing time tonight also."
   Little did the two girls know, the BAU team (with the exception of Hotch, who insisted that he had better things to do than spy on Penelope's first date) were hiding along the row of chairs behind them to get a good look at the scene unfolding in front of them.
  Y/N and Penelope stared at each other for a second before a voice shouted, "JUST KISS ALREADY!" The two of them jumped about five feet in the air before looking back to see JJ and Emily pulling Spencer back to the ground to hide him from the two.
  "Might as well give the people what they want," Penelope said, wiggling her eyebrows. Y/N smiled for what felt like the millionth time that day, before nodding her head.
  The two leaned forward, pausing for a second to look each other in the eyes, before leaning in all the way. Penelope brought her hands up to Y/N's face, one on her cheek, the other on the back of her neck. Y/N put both of her hands on Penelope's cheeks. They stayed like that for a few moments, the soft kiss seemingly having lasted longer than a few seconds. They pulled apart, catching their breaths.
   "Wow," Y/N breathed out. A smile and blush had forced their way onto her face, as she looked at Penelope.
   "Wow," Penelope repeated, staring into Y/N's eyes.
   "I SHIP!" Spencer shouted from where he, Derek, Emily, JJ, and Rossi were supposed to be hiding. Penelope broke her stare from Y/N, turning to face her not so secretive friends.
   "Ok, who let him drink tonight?" Penelope shout back to her friends.
   "You know, for FBI agents, your friends aren't all that sneaky." Y/N said, smiling slightly before kissing Penelope again. The group of FBI agents all hooted and hollered jokingly at Penelope and Y/N.
    "Alright you idiots, lets all get to bed before we anger Garcia enough to make her hack all of our records," Rossi said to the team, trying to get them to leave. He was met with a few groans and 'okay dad's, but everyone got up and followed him out of the pool area. As soon as they were sure they were by themselves, they pulled apart from the kiss.
   "I know we just met and you're fresh out of a relationship, but Y/N, I uh I really like you. And I'm willing to do whatever it takes to be with you. I can wait as long as you-" she was interrupted by yet another small kiss.
   "Penny, I like you a lot too. And I want to be with you too. But it's going to take a bit of time before I get into another relationship." Y/N explained.
   "Of course, take all the time you need, sweetie," Penelope said. The two girls cuddled up next to each other for a few minutes before deciding to call it a night. Penelope walked Y/N to her hotel room with promises of an early breakfast the next day.
  "Goodnight Y/N," Penelope said, before kissing Y/N's cheek.
  "Goodnight Penny," Y/N said, kissing Penelope's cheek as well. She unlocked her door and stepped instead, saying goodnight one final time before watching Penelope walk back down the hall to the elevator. Before she got into the elevator, Penelope waved back at Y/N before dramatically blowing a kiss down the hall. Y/N playfully got the kiss and placed her hand on her cheek, waiting for the elevator doors to close, before making her way into her own room. She was unable to stop smiling the whole time she got ready for bed. This was the best day ever.
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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years
Text
Fire & Desire (Ethan x MC)
Warning: NSFW, 18+
Summary: After the funeral, Naomi heads to Ethan’s apartment for comfort. Let’s pretend that 30 diamond scene in chapter 12 didn’t happen, okay? I made up 95% of this.
A/N: Guys, I have an embarrassing amount of rewrites/drafts of this on my computer. Pls enjoy.
~v~
In order to survive the past few days, Naomi has made it her mission to get through things one step at a time. Her first goal was to survive the toxin. She did. Then it was to just get well and be discharged from the hospital. The last step was to make it through Danny and Bobby’s joint memorial service in one piece. Not only did she do that, but she delivered a eulogy flawlessly, while her friends and colleagues all fell apart at the seams and waited for her to do the same.
But now that it’s all over, now that there’s no goal to work towards especially since Naveen won’t let her back in the hospital without clearance from a therapist, Naomi has never felt more lost or out of sorts in her life.
After the memorial, Naomi went home with her roommates and she regrets it. Jackie and Elijah can barely look at her without giving her pity glances, Sienna has been trying to feed her nonstop, and Aurora has convinced them all that she’s spiraling due to her meltdown at Ethan earlier that day. So she hid in her bedroom, pretending to be asleep simply because she was tired of them.
But sleep evades her. Outside of a quick 15 minute power nap, Naomi hasn’t been able to sleep, thoughts of being back in that hospital room never too far from her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, the fear took over, gripping her and refusing to let go.
So that’s how she ended up here, in Ethan’s apartment, on his couch, nursing a glass of scotch. Being at home wasn’t an option and there’s no one else she’d rather be with, so as soon as her roommates went to bed, Naomi slipped out and made her way across town to Ethan’s place. Ethan was shocked when he found her outside of his apartment at midnight, especially with the way their last conversation ended. He wanted to scold her for taking an Uber so late at night by herself, but of course he didn’t turn her away. 
“Are you hungry?” Ethan asks, opening and closing his refrigerator a few times, as if that will make food magically appear. “I didn’t cook today, but I can probably throw something together.”
Naomi doesn’t know if her appetite still hasn’t returned or if it’s her mind playing tricks on her, as she can still taste the vomit in her mouth at the mere mention of food. “No, I’m fine for now.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Okay.” Ethan wants to ask questions because she’s obviously come here for a reason, but he doesn’t want to push her. “It’s late and you must be exhausted though.” He walks back to his living room and holds out a hand, which Naomi grabs. He ushers her to his bedroom. “You can sleep in here.”
His room still looks like she remembers. The king sized bed takes up most of the space, and he still has the most amazing view in all of Boston. The night is still young and bustling, the buildings all lit up.
“You’re sleeping in here too, right?” Naomi asks.
“I was going to take the guest room, or the couch.”
Naomi shakes her head. “Nonsense, you’re sleeping with me.”
Even though there’s no light other than moonlight spilling into the room, Naomi can still see his cheeks tinge pink. “I didn’t want to assume.”
“I think after our night together in the hospital, assuming will be safe. It’s cute, but we’re grown and you won’t offend my virtue.”
“Noted.” Naomi watches him as he moves around the room, a sort of anxious energy radiating off of him. He rummages through a drawer until he finds something suitable for her to put on. “Here you go.”
It’s a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from a charity 5k because of course Ethan is the type to participate in something like that. Naomi rids herself of the jeans and sweater she haphazardly threw on in her rush to leave her apartment and slips on the t-shirt, forgoing the pants. Their obvious size differences make the shirt look comically large on her like a nightgown.
“Fair warning, I don’t have a scrunchie or anything to wrap my hair in, so I apologize if you wake up to like...a lion’s mane of hair in your face.”
“I think I’ll survive.”
Naomi pulls back the covers and slides into the bed, moaning upon contact. Oh, to be rich and have fancy high thread-count sheets and a memory foam mattress. “God, I never want to leave this bed.”
“Keep making noises like that, and I won’t let you.” He doesn’t climb bed behind her, opting to sit on the edge. “You want to talk?”
“About what?”
“The fact that you’re here right now, instead of your own apartment.”
“Is it not enough to say I wanted to see you?”
Ethan scoffs. Naomi is charming, but she can’t bullshit him. “Sure.”
She doesn’t want to talk about herself. That’s all she’s done for the past 48 hours, and she’s tired of it. It’s selfish.
She manages to turn the tables on Ethan. “You look tired. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“You didn’t,” Ethan assures her. “I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”
“I didn’t have you pegged as an insomniac.”
“We’re doctors, so it goes without saying that we’re all insomniacs.” Ethan sighs. “But to be honest, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep all week.”
“I get it. With the toxin, and Bobby and Danny, and Raf–”
“It’s not them, Naomi, it’s you,” Ethan argues. “I spend all 24 hours of the day with you on my brain, worrying about you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I thought you were going to die in my arms,” Ethan continues. “I tried to stay optimistic for you, but all I could think about was the fact that it could’ve been my last night with you. That night, after you finally fell asleep, I stayed up, analyzing your vitals. The only time I wasn’t looking at you is when I was looking at your chart. And every night since, I lay awake, forcing myself to not contact you.”
Naomi frowns. She’s spent so much time wrapped up in her own head, she didn’t take much time to think about how Ethan was affected as well. She’s sure she’d be a wreck if the situation was reversed, if he was the one fighting an unknown deadly agent. 
She crawls out the sheets and joins Ethan at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think–”
“Don’t you dare apologize to me. You’ve been going through enough, I shouldn’t even be burdening you.”
“It’s fine. We shared deathbed confessions, I think I can handle whatever else you throw my way.”
Ethan turns to lock eyes with Naomi, her expression open and earnest. “I meant everything I said in there. I regret putting us on hold, and I’m sorry I wasted so much time.”
Naomi sucks in a deep breath. “Okay. So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I’m done pretending that I don’t have feelings for you. I’m done trying to hold you at arm’s length. I want you, Naomi.”
“Are you feeling like this because I almost died?”
“No. I mean, sure it was a major wake-up call for me, but I’ve felt this way for a long time. The last time you were here, the night of the softball game, I kissed you, and instead of making my intentions known then and there, I put it off, and that almost cost me everything. I don’t have all the answers, because I’m your boss, and people at hospitals like to gossip, but whatever this is, I want to explore it with you.” 
Naomi doesn’t say anything, her brain and heart trying to process all of this information. Ethan watches her, his heart pounding wildly. Did he seriously miscalculate her feelings for him? Did he pick the most inopportune moment to drop this on her?
“It took you long enough,” Naomi says.
He laughs, his relief evident and he grabs her hand. “Well I appreciate you having the patience of a saint, Rookie.”
“It’s because I am a saint.”
He runs his thumb along the inside of her wrist, tracing a pattern into the warm skin. The steady thump of her pulse is enough to soothe the anxiety that lingers. She’s here. She’s with him. She’s alive.
His other hand grips the back of her neck, forcing her to look him in the eye. Ethan’s gaze sweeps across her face, his 11 years as a doctor having given him a keen eye for detail. There’s her long, dark eyelashes, her full lips, her pronounced cheekbones, her button nose that crinkles whenever she’s smiling and laughing, a sight he hopes to see again soon. He doesn’t know what emotion is more overwhelming: the relief that she’s alive, or the fear that she was that close to dying.
Ethan is all too aware of the fact that he could’ve lost her. That he and Naomi would never share a quiet moment like this ever again. That she’d never know the full extent of his feelings for her, because he’d been too much of a coward to be honest a long time ago. The thought of the hypothetical makes his insides twist uncomfortably. He can’t dwell on it, not while she’s here, looking to him for comfort.
Without thinking further, his lips slowly collide with hers, pulling the younger woman into a kiss. She wastes no time, kissing him back with an unrivaled fervor that borders on desperation, but Ethan isn’t one to complain. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping her mouth until he finds her own.
The kiss sparks something inside of Naomi, a buzz building in the pit of her stomach, so potent and all consuming, it nearly startled her. For the first time in what feels like forever, the rest of the world fades away. It’s just her and Ethan, and this magical little flame between them. So she clings to it, to him, to them, and swings one of her legs over, straddling him. One arm wraps around the back of his neck, one hand tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck as she pulls herself closer. He tastes smoky like the scotch they drank earlier, and she swears the kiss alone is enough to leave her intoxicated.
Desperate for any sort of friction, Naomi rolls her hips into his. She can feel him hardening beneath her, his erection straining through the thin layers of fabric preventing them from being completely bare with each other. Unable to help himself, Ethan breaks the kiss only to let out a low, “Fuck.”
He needs to stop this. Logically, Ethan knows that putting a kibosh in this is the right thing to do. Naomi came to him because she needs a support system, and the last thing he wants to do is take advantage of her trust and manipulate her grief.
“Naomi, stop,” Ethan gently commands, hands gripping her hips in order to keep her still.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“We don’t have to do this tonight,” Ethan says. “Let’s just go to bed.”
“But I don’t want to go to bed.”
“But you should.”
“No. I want this, I want you.”
Her lips are on his jaw, kissing and biting, and it’s becoming harder for him to stay focused. “You’ve had a very long day, it’s been emotionally draining, and I’m sure you’re exhausted–”
“Oh my God, stop!” Naomi exclaims. “I don’t need another person explaining to me what I’m going through or what I’m feeling. Trust me, no one is more aware of my shitty life than I am.” She leans forward resting her forehead against his. “I get it, I’m the one who barely survived an assassination attempt, and I’m going to walk around with that for the rest of my life. For tonight, can I just be a normal girl who wants to fuck her boyfriend, or whatever the hell you are to me? Please?”
Despite the circumstances, his cock twitches almost painfully as soon as the word “boyfriend” leaves her mouth. He’s a grown ass man, he hasn’t used the term since high school, and here he is, ready to dissolve into a puddle of goo. What the hell has Naomi Valentine done to him and who is this mess of a man that she’s replaced him with?
Whatever she’s trying to do won’t work. Pushing aside her grief and trying to avoid the problem with sex isn’t a coping mechanism he’d ever recommend (not that he has any brilliant ones of his own, but still). It’s not going to fix anything in the long run. 
Naomi’s lips brush against his before giving him another teasing kiss before pulling away. “Please,” she whines. “I want you, Ethan.” Ethan has always considered himself to be a staunch man who isn’t easily swayed. Until he met Naomi. How can he be when she’s looking at him with those big doe eyes of hers, weakening his otherwise tough resolve? It may not help her tomorrow, but who is he to deny her reprieve at least right now? Saying no to her has never been a strength Ethan claimed to possess.
Not giving any sort of warning, Ethan grips the oversized shirt she’s wearing and forcefully pulls it up, barely giving her enough time to lift her arms and help with the process. Once the piece of clothing is discarded somewhere on his bedroom floor, Ethan flips their positions, Naomi’s back landing on his mattress with a soft thud.
He sucks in a sharp breath. Ethan considers himself to be a well traveled, well cultured man. He’s seen the Eiffel Tower multiple times, visited the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro, driven a Ferrari through the streets of Rome, drank wine while overlooking a Napa vineyard, and more. But none of those even comes close to the sight of Naomi naked in his bed, writhing on top of his sheets, her curly hair splayed out like a crown atop her head. She’s absolutely beautiful, and he’s a goner. He’s always known it, but this moment right here, right now actually seals the deal.
“Why don’t you take a picture?” Naomi asks, jolting Ethan out of his thoughts. He feels her dainty foot running along the soft cotton of his pajama pants before traveling higher, lightly brushing his side.
He catches her foot, his strong hand wrapping around her ankle, and yanks her forward. “I don’t need to take a picture because the real thing is just fine.” Maintaining eye contact, Ethan presses a line of kisses from her ankle to the inside of her knee, smirking as he feels the goosebumps pop up along the trail he’s set. “God, it really doesn’t take much to get you going, huh?”
“Not when it involves you, no,” Naomi replies.
Ethan drops her leg unceremoniously. His hands wander until they’re hooked into the waistband of her lacy underwear, and he pulls them down quickly, deciding not to make a production of it. A hum of approval leaves his throat when he finds her already soaked for him. He runs a finger along her spreading the wetness around before pressing the single digit into her. “I like that answer.”
Her toes curl at the contact and Naomi grips the sheets beneath her. “Oh, fuck.”
“Christ, you’re tight.”
“It’s been a while,” Naomi admits, panting heavily. “The guy I was into ran off to another continent, and put us on ice.”
Ethan can tell by her tone that she’s merely teasing, but his heart still hammers wildly nonetheless. He wasted so much time, and for what? He slides another finger into her, enjoying the moan she gives him in return. “It appears I have some atoning to do, hmm?”
Naomi nods. “A lot of atoning.”
“Very well.” 
She feels him remove his fingers, and nothing makes her head spin more. Lifting herself up by her elbows, Naomi glares down at Ethan. “What are you doing? You can’t just stop!”
“Relax.” Ethan forces Naomi back to her originally flat position. “I think you know better than anyone that I’m going to take good care of you.” She chooses not to respond, because they both know the answer to that is a resounding yes.
He spreads her thighs and Naomi shivers at the gleam in his eyes, positively engraved by the way he looks at her: all lust and hunger. Desperate for Ethan to actually do something, she tilts her hips up, hoping he’ll get the hint.
Ethan chuckles and places an open mouthed kiss on the inside of her thigh. She swears she can feel herself buzzing with anticipation, her insides on fire, and all she wants him to do is just touch her.
When he finally does, she’s shocked she doesn’t combust then and there. Her head tips back and a low groan tumbles from her lips, and her thighs clamp shut so tightly around Ethan’s head, she’d be apologetic if she wasn’t so far gone. Ethan doesn’t skip a beat though, his fingers digging into her thighs and spreading them apart, and then he’s back to his original mission.
Ethan’s tongue glides through her folds with ease, stroking her up and down a few times before closing his mouth around her clit and sucking hard. Her hips fly off the bed and she grinds into him with a reckless abandon she hasn’t felt in a really long time, but Ethan splays a strong hand across her stomach to hold her down, trapping her between him and his bed.
Trying to gain a modicum of power back, Naomi grips a handful of his hair and tugs at it roughly. It’s an action that makes Ethan growl, his mouth vibrating against her.
Her little moans and cries do nothing to help the raging ego Naomi claims he has, instead they only fuel him further. He ups the ante, his two fingers sliding back into her, curling in a come hither motion and pressing repeatedly against the spot that makes her see stars.
He can tell by the vice grip she has on his fingers and the way she’s undulating against him that she’s close. And while he’s content to draw this out for as long as humanly possible, until he’s wrung every little ounce of pleasure from her that he can, Ethan is well aware that the woman occupying his bed doesn’t have that type of patience.
Giving her a bit of reprieve, he takes his mouth off of her, only moving it slightly so he can kiss the soft flesh of her inner thigh.
“God, Ethan.”
“Say my name again, Rookie,” Ethan commands. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
Naomi obeys without as much as a second thought. It doesn’t take much to get her to say his name again, the word coming out as a shout in between a broken cry. Ethan smirks, satisfied with his work, and his tongue finds her clit, stroking the tiny bundle a few more times until her orgasm zips through her with the intensity of a lightning strike. Her entire body tenses up as Ethan continues to lap at her, as she rides out the aftershocks.
When she’s finally in control of her senses again, the first thing Naomi notices is how absolutely wrecked Ethan looks, eyes red and glossy, mouth and beard soaked, and she wants to do nothing more than kiss him. So she does, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him back on top of her. She can taste herself on his mouth and it makes her moan.
Impatient, Naomi reaches between their bodies and tugs at the waistband of his pants. Ethan receives the message loud and clear, and he breaks the kiss to strip as quickly as he can. She watches as Ethan flings his shirt across the room and kicks off his pajama bottoms. He isn’t the only one with above average observation skills, and she notices the slight tremble in his hands, the anticipation as intense for him as it is for her. She’d be lying if she said reducing this great and powerful man to nothing more than a shaky mess isn’t a turn on. Once his boxers are gone, Naomi looks him up and down, every part of him still as she remembered.
Her eyes zero in on his erection, painfully hard. She wraps her hand around him, stroking firmly. “My my, doctor, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like me.”
The other four letter L-word rattles around in his brain, begging to be set free, and with more strength than he thought he had, Ethan manages to keep quiet. He’d never forgive himself for such selfishness if he blurted out he loves her in the middle of sex. Naomi has enough to deal with already without that added layer of complexity.
Ethan’s thoughts are interrupted, a sharp hiss passing through his teeth as he feels her tongue languidly glide across the swollen head of his erection before taking him fully in her mouth.
He doesn’t know what will kill him first: how good it feels, or the fact that she’s staring up at him with those fucking Disney princess eyes again, feigning innocence like she’s unaware of exactly what she does to him.
He allows her to get in one more stroke of her tongue before he grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her away. One of her eyebrows raises in question. “What’s wrong? I was just getting started.”
He drags them back into bed before answering, “I need to be inside you. You can do whatever you want to me afterwards.”
She grins at the promise of a next time. Whatever she wants? “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ramsey.”
“It’s not a threat, it’s a promise,” Ethan assures her. 
Naomi feels him, poised at her entrance and she arches backwards, too overly sensitive. Ethan’s hands are back on her hips, holding her in place, and inch by inch, he fills her. They both groan at the sensation, familiar territory but something new entirely. Her hands fly to his back, nails digging into the skin as she’s stretched to maximum capacity, uncaring if she leaves marks.
Ethan is unsure of how long they’ve been like this, but he’s nearly shaking with the restraint it’s taking him to not thrust into her. He drops his head, kissing a line across her collarbone. “Fuck, baby, I need you to let me know when I can move.”
The pet name wasn’t intentional, spilling from Ethan’s lips before he could stop it, but Naomi whimpers regardless. She hooks her legs behind his back, keeping him just as trapped as she is. “Please.”
He moves slowly, partially to give her a chance to adjust to his size, the other reason because he doesn’t want it to be over as quickly as it started. This, being inside of her again, is overwhelming and Ethan can’t believe there was ever a time he thought he could go without.
“You’re incredible,” Ethan compliments.
“Okay, say it again when I’m not in your bed. Like during a team meeting where you’re shooting down my ideas.”
“You are,” Ethan insists.
He thrusts into her again, and Naomi cries out, nails raking at his back. Surely she’s broken skin at this point, but Ethan doesn’t care. He’s never been one for pain in bed, but with Naomi, he’s willing to make an allowance, especially since it leaves way for pleasure. They move in tandem, hips moving against each other, both trying to coax out the release that’s been building. Unable to do much of anything else, Ethan leans forward, kissing Naomi again. She meets him halfway, just as eager as he is.
Eventually she has to break the kiss, and she gasps in a large breath of air, her lungs constricting tightly in her rib cage. In her distracted moment, Ethan manages to free himself of her hands marking him relentlessly, and he captures both of her wrists in one fell swoop. He holds them above her head in one hand, pressing her as deep into the mattress as possible. The new angle catches her by surprise and she can’t do anything but gasp into the air above her.
“Please.” She doesn’t even know what she’s pleading for at this point, but it’s the only word her brain can comprehend so she chants it repeatedly like a prayer until she’s shattering around him, mouth open, head tipped back, skin flush and warm. She’s perfect like this, Ethan surmises. 
It doesn’t take him more than a few more thrusts before Ethan’s own release takes control and he falls forward, leaning some of his weight onto Naomi. He doesn’t trust himself to not say or do something completely stupid, so he buries his face in the crook of her neck, biting down on the sensitive flesh.
It could’ve been mere minutes that they spent in that position, or it could’ve been hours for all Naomi knows, but when Ethan finally pulls out, he’s kissing her all over: her cheeks, her nose, her forehead.
He wraps her in a solid embrace, arms circling around her and holding her close, their erratic heart rates trying to slow down. Ethan feels at peace doing just this, holding her close to him, feeling the rise and fall of her chest.
Do you feel any better?”
That isn’t a question Naomi expects to hear right after sex, and it causes her to pause.  After a few more moments of silence, she answers, “I mean, the endorphin release was great if that’s what you’re asking.”
“It’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.”
Naomi knew going into it that the sex wasn’t going to soothe all of her hurts and be the magical solution to her problems, so she doesn’t need some major “I-told-you-so” moment from him. But for the first time in almost a week, she feels like herself again. Within the confines of these four walls, Ethan didn’t treat her like some fragile little doll, and her mind was able to take a break from overthinking.
“It was nice to turn my brain off, if only for a short time,” Naomi replies. “It was nice to not be a captive to my trauma.”
Ethan’s fingers gently graze her scalp, massaging. “Do you think you’re ready to talk to me now?”
“No.”
She’s as stubborn as ever. “Fair enough. But if we were to talk about it, I would say that you went through something horrible and traumatic, and you have to allow yourself to actually feel and process whatever emotions you have. I’d also say that you are incredibly strong, but your strength doesn’t mean that you have to bottle everything inside in order to make everyone around you feel better, especially when you’re with me. Strong people have the right to be vulnerable too.” Ethan sighs. “But since we aren’t talking about it, I’m not going to say any of those things.”
Naomi curls in closer to Ethan, comforted by his body warmth. “I think I would really enjoy hearing those things if this was a conversation we were having.”
“Good. Now whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be prepared.”
“Thank you.”
“I think it’s what good boyfriends do. Or whatever the hell I am to you. That’s what you said, right?”
“Okay, I have an explanation for getting agitated about the technical definition of our relationship.”
“Oh yeah? I’d love to hear it.”
“I was impatient and horny.”
Ethan laughs, the warm and rich sound curling around her insides. It does more to help than she’ll ever be able to convey to him. “You’re also very honest.”
“To a fault at times, yes.”
A silence settled between them again, and Naomi feels her eyelids getting heavier. Maybe she’ll be able to finally get some real sleep, not the fitful unconsciousness she’s been subjected to for the past few days.
“Thank you for indulging me tonight,” Naomi says. 
He’s going to suggest she talk to a therapist. He’s going to say it multiple times, until he’s blue in the face and she’s tired of listening. But he'll leave her alone for tonight.
“You’re welcome. Now, get some sleep. The sooner you get to bed, the sooner we wake up, and I can cook breakfast for you.”
“Mhmm, sounds like a plan, Ramsey.”
Ethan can feel her falling asleep on him. He presses a kiss into her forehead. “Naomi?”
“Hmm?”
“For the record, I am definitely your boyfriend.”
~v~
tags: @maurine07 @aka-calliope @edgiestwinter @soft-for-drake @greenbean-kylie @akshara16 @mrsramseyy @honeyandsunfl0wers @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey
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staylavendertea · 3 years
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music, ya know
this is a complete impulse of lying in bed middle of the night thoughts that i don’t even know if anyone’s gonna see that have been stemmed off the experiences of the past couple days, topic of 1:41 am mind boggle:
music and it’s aesthetic and importance in literal every sense cause it’s just that important to me
first experience of realizing this, i’ve always loved film scores and listening to music and the orchestral pieces from movies and shows, but it really seemed to hit me recently, like the fact that this week’s new LOKI episode, no spoilers, has the most badass score and a badass scene with such a perfect mix and musical atmosphere. i literally had one of my best friends over, who has a very small interest in comics, cinema, marvel in general, especially a show about a norse comic god that they know nothing about, and whilst they sat there for my own regard, watching the show like a normal human being would, i sat there clinching their hand, watching in awe as our music is louder than actors talking tv speakers spurted out the most spine tightening world building story and just wandered “jesus that was good” and whilst i will always think about the superior acting, cgi, the amount of different people that just went into those few scenes and like what was physical set and what was computer image and what the hell did i just watch that has my brain running olympic marathon circles right now?
the thought that said brain kept going back to was that fucking score. it was literally tearing apart of every corner of my head and why was it doing that?
second experience, another marvel one, but i digress. black widow (no spoilers i promise), thursday night, movie theater for the first time in i can’t even remember how long now and we set through so many previews just for fucking boss baby to start playing and the reaction of the theater to make me burst out laughing.
however whatever works in that little projection box, gets fixed and the movie is pushed to just a little before it starts, a nice small pepsi ad, the regal rollercoaster intro (if you go to regal movie theaters ya know what i’m talking about), and then i hear it - the marvel studios logo - something so musically engraved into my head that my ass that can’t sing for anything, can harmonize with the sound and makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up around movie theater surround sound. but i can’t think of that now, i’m here to watch black widow, a movie on hiatus with the rest of the world for so long now, a character i didn’t know much about it or truly, didn’t have the most connection with in the first place. yet through that one movie, i seemed to build one of those.
ofc though scarlett johansson’s beautiful acting and world building, but it isn’t until the end of the movie that i even realize why. it was the fucking score again. when i think about it, the beginning of the movie felt like all of black widows scenes in the avengers movies for me, kinda just, there. not really emotionally tugging, not bad ofc either, but just, there. in the present, watching something cool in motion. but then it hits, what i can only describe as a theme that somehow tells the entire black widow movie in one singular composition. something so badass, story telling, but also just singularly black widow-esk. i can tell you that i walked out the movie theater rambling about the composition and looking up composers.
third experience, the most recent as it was literally like 20 minutes ago and sprung one train rail of a thought process that immediately tugged me into typing this brain vomit into a tumblr post. i have playlists. for everything. and when i say everything, i fucking mean everything. i’m a writer and a reader, i have playlists mostly for the young avengers, my most utter comfort characters, and their stories i’m writing. i also have playlists/genre/specific song for about every book i read.
when i read red white and royal blue when that came out, i noticed i listened to one of the drunks by panic at the disco the entirety of the ending of the book and the words and music fit together like puzzle pieces, not only did it make the reading experience better, but i was so fucking emerged in my over hyper-imagitive brain that when i finally actually finished the book, i still never left. rewind present day to the beginning of this past june, one last stop comes out, ofc i get it the day it comes out with my anticipation building like wildfire. i start reading that night and i put on my recents on my liked songs playlist (true to true spotify user) and i slowly over the next day as i read and finish the book, windle down to the genre, then the band, to the album, to the exact song that feels like the carbon copy of the words i’m reading. that song was only ones who know by the arctic monkeys. now go back to this past week, anyone who reads the carry on series knows, anyway the wind blows came out this past tuesday. i waited till wednesday to buy the ✨pretty special addition barnes and nobles copy✨ so that the dear friend that indulged me by watching loki that same day could buy it at the same time and make a cute book date or whateva. i started reading that night and something just felt ,,, off. i didn’t know what it was, but i was living off the pure joy that simon and co give me so i ignored the feeling. until i realized why it felt off this morning. i wasn’t listening to any fucking music, literally nothing, not even queen. motherfucking. queen.
i looked for the snowbaz playlist i made when i read carry on for the first time back in 2016/2017 when i was still a freshman in high school just to remember i deleted that literally forever ago. so i made a new one. like an hour and a half ago. very inspired on how i made the playlists for the young avengers and all their stories. letting the music talk.
the fact that all these rambling thoughts have led to this conclusion makes my head hurt, but for me at least in my own experiences. music talks. a two way conversation. a radio broadcast, turning the peg until you match the same frequency thats being put out and you can hear it and understand it. it’s like when you see comedians on stages or actors on panels, they talk, you have reactions, you talk back, and so forth the loop continues until the last voice, last note, rings out. music and songs and orchestral pieces and bands and composers and lyric writers are telling you the stories in reverse. they don’t know their doing it, obviously they meant something entirely different in their creations, but it’s like literature and any work of words and storytelling. interpretation. to me, the notes, pianos, violins, guitars, drums, singers, cellos, and anything that can make sound you can think of, is telling you something. whispering in your ear as you watch or read. facial features, emotions the characters dont say out loud, outfits, they way their standing or talking or moving or interacting with anything and everything.
when i just made that carry on playlist, i played it, decided to try read some good almost 2 am fan fic as you do, my hanging on by a thread sleep brain telling me words aren’t recognizable right now, and tighten myself into a blanket to see if i can sleep at all. the playlist still plays and my never shuts up head thinks it’s own daydreams, stresses out about anything it can, that is until the song plays. the one that just speaks the carry on trilogy language. the one that i found whilst i was reading wayward son and then would play whenever i re read carry on. the one that started this whole way too long ass post in the first place. cant be alone tonight by atlas. i heard just the first sound and i saw them, as if i were in the same room, like i never even put the book down in the first damn place because i’m actually terrified of finishing it. i could see simon in his oversized hoodies, baz in an outfit that was way too good just to be sitting inside, agatha looking as pleasantly pretty as ever, penelope poking fun at shepherd, and shepherd poking fun right back; bickering, laughing, saying the dialogues i try to remember so i can write them later, existing.
in a way music doesn’t just talk, but it lives. it lives and breaths. a three way conversation you could say. characters, stories, plot, and settings talk to the music, then the music delivers us listeners the message, so that we can send one back. this literally took me over an hour to write and i should point the important note that i do have synesthesia where colors and sounds and colors and words do the association so this entire thing might be me being entirely biased, but alas, i love sound so much and if there is anyone else that feels the same ways as i do as just a simple good film score and song makes anything ten times better, feel free to talk, i will totally be awkward, but i need some music freaks like myself around so feel free to hit me up, also if you love movies and cinema also feel free to hit me up as i need movie buddies and now it’s 3 am and i will be going to bed - peace out 🛸
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kaimelia · 3 years
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Homage (Pt 2)
a/n: hi, super sorry for the delay with this. this ended up being more amelia/link centric than I intended it to be, but I hope you enjoy anyway
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"Hey, let's just take a moment to step back and take a deep breath." Amelia turned around to face Link, feeling his hand on her shoulder in the motion of comfort he often made. "Whatever happens, I'm going to be right here, and you don't have to worry about losing me."
"Until my Mom tells you about every mistake I've ever made in my life and scares you off," she muttered, rolling her head to each side. Link brought his fingers up to press under her jawbone, lightly massaging the skin as he worked up to her temples.
"Relax. I've seen enough of your crazy to know what I'm getting myself into." She rolled her eyes at him.
"It's not funny."
"You're really worried about this? Amelia," Link lifted up her hand to stop her from picking at her nails, "I genuinely don't think that there is anything your mother could say to make me think differently of you. You've got me pretty hooked."
"When she and I talked about her coming to visit, it seemed so far away, and I was half-convinced it would never happen, so I felt fine talking to her about it, but now she's twenty minutes away in a cab, and I feel like I'm going to throw up." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, pressing a slow kiss to her forehead. She sighed and leaned into his chest.
"If you're actually going to throw up, just let me know, so I'm not in the line of fire," he whispered, resting his head on top of hers.
"Why are you so calm? Shouldn't you be like, freaking out now that you're meeting my Mom as my boyfriend?" He pulled away and shrugged, holding her shaky hands in his.
"I don't feel much of an expectation, especially considering the relationship you have with her." She rolled her eyes again, dropping her hands from his and walking over to the table.
"Scout's asleep right now. Which means that he'll be awake just after she gets here, which means that he'll be fussing, and my mother will think that I'm incapable of calming my son down." Link raised his eyebrows and stifled a laugh, following her to where she was standing.
"Okay, can we just take a breath?" She met his eyes, inhaling deeply and exhaling as he did. "Your mother raised five children and has dozens of grandchildren; I'm sure that she has plenty of experience with babies, and she's not going to judge you if he cries."
"She might hate the apartment and think that we're raising our son in a space unfit for a baby."
"Hey, I love this apartment. It's very homey, and we have our own plans. We're not going to be living here forever; this is just a temporary space while we look at houses." She glanced around the space, eyeing the pile of toys in the corner of the living room. Link seemed to follow her gaze. "Kids play with toys. He's 16 months old; of course, he's going to have way too many toys."
"How do you manage to talk me down from every thought?" He shrugged again casually, moving over to organize the toys.
"I get used to living with you and your brain and how quickly it moves." Link held out his arm, motioning for her to come to join him. "Cleaning something will help you relax. Make you feel like you're fixing something, something you can touch and make better." She sighed dramatically and joined him, putting Scout's blocks away into the carrier neatly. Link continued to busy her for the next while, pointing out the minor things in the apartment that could be fixed. She froze at the sound of a knock on the door, her eyes widening in fear.
"She's here," Amelia muttered, straightening her appearance. "Crap, she's actually here."
"I'll get it-"
"No, I should." He watched as she stood still, and he placed his hand on her shoulder, lightly pushing her forward. "Okay, here I go." Link trailed behind her to the door, his hand settling on her back as a reminder he was there. She let out a deep breath and pulled at the door handle, straightening her posture. "Hey, Mom, oh-" The older Shepherd pulled her daughter into a tight hug, quickly muttering some complaint about her flight.
"And you too, come here," Link's body tensed as she pulled him into a hug, Amelia nearly laughing as his eyes widened comically. "Don't be shy; you're family too now, Atticus." He leaned back, nodding his head tentatively and cringing.
"Just Link. No one calls me Atticus." He offered his hand out, and Carolyn shooed it away.
"No need for formalities; where should I put my bags?" Link moved past her to grab the suitcase, groaning at the unexpected weight of it.
"Link will take you to the guest room. How about I go get Scout? He's been napping, so he might be a little grumpy-"
"Oh, don't wake him. If he's anything like you were as a baby, I'm sure he needs his nap time." Link rubbed his girlfriend's shoulder before motioning towards the guest room, leading the older woman to the space. He set the suitcase on the ground and let her know he'd leave her to unpack before exiting to join his girlfriend in the living room.
"First five minutes went well," he muttered, collapsing onto the couch. "Why am I already exhausted?" She looked back at him.
"We've got two more days of this; you can't be exhausted yet." Amelia walked over to the couch and sat next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder. "I am, too, though." The couple sat up simultaneously as their son called out. Amelia quickly pushed herself off the sofa and speed-walked down the hallway, stopping at the sight of her mother holding her son. "Oh, I can get him," she muttered, placing a hand on the doorframe.
"He's my grandson; I can handle him, Amelia." The neurosurgeon bit her lip as she watched her mother rock Scout back and forth.
"Momma," Scout muttered, holding his arm out towards where Amelia was standing. She grinned and walked over, taking him from her mother, placing a kiss on the baby's head.
"Did you finish unpacking?" Carolyn waved her hand down.
"I'm only here for two days; I didn't bring too much." She sat down in the rocking chair against the wall, watching her daughter. "You know, your sisters keep complaining that you don't talk to them enough."
"Yeah, well, when I do, they're not exactly the nicest people." Amelia placed Scout down on the ground at took his hand, helping him to gain his footing. "Let's go out into the living room; he'll find something to play with." They left the nursery, Scout immediately picking up his pace and speeding towards his father, who lifted him and hugged him tightly.
"What're you doing awake?" Scout giggled as Link tickled him, his attention soon diverting to his mother, who was pulling out blocks.
"Block!" The boy hurried over to Amelia and sat down across from her on the carpet in the living room, pulling out different colored blocks.
"So, Link, tell me about yourself. I feel like I barely know who you are; Amelia keeps hiding you away."
"Mom," she protested, placing a block down.
"I'm just being honest, Amy." Amelia rolled her eyes and turned back to her son.
"It's fine," Link laughed, clasping his hands together. "Uh, I'm from Seattle, I'm an orthopedic surgeon, my parents live in Denver, I lived in L.A. for a while before coming up to work for the Mariners, and then I ended up at Grey-Sloan, which is where Amelia and I met." Carolyn raised her eyebrows and nodded, sitting down on the loveseat beside the couch.
"So, should I be expecting a wedding sometime soon? Because I promise we will come, as long as you give us proper notice."
"Mom! Please."
"Amelia, you have a habit of not telling us things and then expecting us to show up when it's convenient for you." The neurosurgeon rubbed her forehead and made eye contact with her boyfriend, who shrugged his shoulders.
"Link, could you bring Scout to his room, please?" He raised his eyebrows, standing up slowly and lifting Scout, quickly leaving the room. Amelia looked over at her mother and sat down on the couch. "Mom, I gave you over two weeks' notice of the wedding. That was plenty of time for you to fly out and come be there for me, and now that we have Scout, I need to know that you're going to be there if you want to be involved in his life," she muttered, folding her hands over each other. "And I know I haven't made the most effort to be a part of the family; I'm still not exactly keen on the idea of spending Christmas in New York and Thanksgiving with all of my sisters, but I told you about Scout for a reason."
"Is Link the one?" Amelia smiled and nodded her head, feeling her cheeks warm at her immediate, subconscious reaction.
"He is. And we're going to get married someday, and I'll want you there."
"You realize that you're going to have to let me spend time with him, yes?" She rolled her eyes.
"I know. Just promise not to embarrass me too much, okay?" She watched as her mother nodded sternly before sighing.
"Can I hug you?" Amelia grinned and leaned forward, shocked at the unfamiliar comfort she felt in her mother's embrace. "You know, even if I don't do a great job of showing it, I am proud of you, Amy."
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niksixx · 3 years
Text
Plus One
Welcome to part 5 of Plus One. We are approaching the end of this mini fic, but do not worry my loves. We still have a few parts left. I hope you enjoy part 5, and please remember to leave comments, reblog, and add tags. It motivates me to continue writing for you all. 💜
Note: Just a reminder, though this fic may seem fast, it takes place over the course of a few months!! 
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*Pia’s POV*
Eight bright, colorful beanbags are scattered around the floor in a private room at the back end of the library. It’s quiet, far away from small children who squeal excitedly when they spot their favorite comic book and a good distance away from the college students who gather at the old wooden tables to recite chemistry flashcards in one big study group.
Black coffee and burnt wood is the signature smell of the book club room. Only a few windows are open, allowing just a bit of sunshine and breeze to fill the room. The aura is comforting.
“Okay, everyone,” I say, setting the book in my lap. I believe The Catcher in the Rye is a classic, but various opinions, both positive and negative, have been directed toward the book over the years. Romance is the genre I’ve always been drawn to, fiction or nonfiction, but I can certainly appreciate a coming-of-age novel. “How did we feel about the story?”
Margaret, an elderly woman with curly gray hair and silver glasses, raises her hand timidly. It’s the first time she has volunteered to speak since the start of our club. I give her an encouraging smile, nodding. “I enjoyed it very much, though it was slow at times.”
A small contribution, but a contribution nonetheless. “Thank you Margaret. Would anyone else like to share?”
Shayne, a third-year college student, wiggles his fingers and clears his throat. “I would.” He snaps the book shut with one hand. “The book itself is enjoyable. There’s a lot of important themes that are entwined in the storyline. But Holden, and let me be clear, I feel terrible for saying this about a sixteen-year-old, was insufferable.”
“I thought I was the only one who thought so!” Stacy chirps from her beanbag. The thirty-year old mother of two crosses her ankles, drumming her fingers on the spine of her novel. “I was under the impression that Holden believed he was better than everyone else. His personality alone was enough to make me despise the book and it’s a shame. I wanted to love it.”
“That’s an interesting point, Stacy.” Setting my book on the ground, I adjust my legs deeper into the beanbag while the rest of the book club eagerly sits forward, awaiting my response. “And this is why I love reading so much. Whether the story is true or not, we know Holden Caulfield is not a real person, though there have been assumptions that J.D. Salinger modeled Holden after himself. Stacy, you said that Holden’s personality gave you enough reason to not enjoy the book. We certainly have to appreciate Salinger’s talent as an author. He was able to create a character that made you feel such strong emotions.” The club nods in agreement before I continue. “Now Shayne, you mentioned themes. Explain a bit more for me.”
“Gladly,” he answers eagerly. “Innocence. It’s the main theme. Holden, for lack of a better term, is obsessed with the preservation of childhood innocence. I do think that’s admirable, and while he was intolerable in my opinion, I can understand his desire to conserve one’s purity.”
“I assume there’s going to be a but in your next statement,” Charlie pipes up with a chuckle. The forty-seven year old retired firefighter wears a kind smile on his face.
“But,” Shayne smirks and holds up a finger. “Holden is one big contradiction, and here’s why. We know how much Holden hated the adult world and it’s “phoniness”. It’s the whole reason he wanted to preserve innocence wherever he could. Holden himself was a phony, a fake. He condemns adulthood but is seemingly unaware of his own phoniness. I now hate this word, by the way.”
A collective chuckle sounds in the room. I shake my head but can’t help the growing smile. The book club has been the highlight of my week so far.
“Anyway,” Shayne continues. “He’s deceptive and a compulsive liar. Holden is the epitome of what he hates.”
“That is a fantastic observation, Shayne, and thank you for sharing.” He bows dramatically before slinking back deeper into the beanbag. “Before we conclude our meeting and I introduce our new book, I have a question. Does anyone know why Holden’s name is symbolic to the story?”
I can see the wheels turning in their brains, and for a moment I think I’ve stumped them. Charlie looks like he wants to answer, but nothing comes out of his mouth. I take the chance to speak up. “First, does anyone know what a caul is?”
Stacy’s hand shoots up in the air. “I think I learned about this in one of my birthing classes but forgive me if I’m wrong. But isn’t the caul a part of the amnion that protects an unborn baby? Near the head, right?”
I snap my finger and point to Stacy excitedly. “Yes! And what does the name Holden sound like?”
“Holden...hold...en...hold...hold on?” Charlie asks skeptically.
“Exactly right,” I grin proudly. “Put it all together.”
“Oh my gosh,” Margaret says softly. Everyone turns toward the older woman. “In the book there was mention of Holden imagining children frolicking in a rye field. I just realized it now. He’s the catcher in the rye field, protecting the children. Holden Caulfield. Hold on to childhood innocence.”
I grin wildly, clapping along with the rest of the book club members. “Incredible, Margaret. You’re exactly right.”
“So, what’s our next book?” Shayne asks, hands tapping his thighs. “I’m feeling a mystery book.”
“Or Sci-Fi,” Charlie answers.
“Oooo, Sci-Fi,” Shayne murmurs excitedly.
“Neither,” I say, giggling at their frowns. From my purse, I pull out a purple paperback book and show it to the group. “Historical fiction mixed with romance. Our next book is The Madness of Lord Ian Mackenzie. I’ve never heard of it, so I’m sure you haven’t either. It’s about the same length as The Catcher in the Rye, maybe only a few pages more. Let’s all try to read the first five chapters and we’ll meet again next week.”
Stacy, Charlie, and Margaret bid farewell. Shayne stays back with me, shooting me a smirk as I gather my belongings. “Another romance novel, huh? Something you’d like to share with the class? Maybe his name?”
A slow smile spreads across my lips. I sling my purse over my shoulder, clamping a hand down on Shayne’s. “He’s a dream, Shayne. I’ve known him forever, but it’s finally official,” Two months ago, I used to cringe on the word official when it wasn’t. It still isn’t, but something between us feels different, feels real. The more I’m with him, the more I don’t want to pretend.
Shayne slings an arm around my shoulder, leading me out of the room. He’s had his fair share of relationship issues as well, but at twenty-one, he’s still young. “I’m glad one of us isn’t having boy trouble. Philip called me the other day, said he wants to get back together.”
“Are you going to?”
Shayne makes a face, opening the front door of the library. He scoots aside, letting me walk first. “Hell no, Sweets. He was a terrible boyfriend,” Shayne considers for a moment. “At least the sex was good. You think he’d settle for friends with benefits?”
I laugh heartily, pushing Shayne’s shoulder. “That’s a recipe for disaster, my friend. You want my advice? Spend some time on yourself. Find out what you really want in life.”
I head off to my car, Shayne walking the opposite way to his. Before I can slide into the seat, Shayne calls out to me. “Is he the one?”
I don’t have to think about it. It comes out naturally. “Without a doubt.”
~~~
Janielle has outdone herself, but I never expected anything less. Desserts are on every counter in her kitchen, from cupcakes to brownies and pastries. Outside on the back deck, a long white table is filled from end to end with finger foods and appetizers. With a beer in his hand, Dominic flips burgers expertly at the grill, shooting his wife a goofy grin when she utters a stern ‘be careful’. The rest of the adults gather on the patio, laughing and drinking, while the kids swim excitedly in the pool.
It’s the hottest day in August so far, and I can’t tell if my cheeks are red from the heat or from my constant ogling of Nikki’s shirtless chest. I watch from the deck as Nikki, Vince, and Amanda clink their bottles together and down their drinks. Nikki wins, throwing his hands up in the air dramatically, before turning his head to shoot me a wink. I laugh and shake my head, holding up my glass of wine that is still half full.
“So, you and Sixx,” My laughter is cut off by Dom, whose eyes twinkle with the same amusement present in his voice. “How about that?”
My stomach flips just at the mention of Nikki. “Going on almost four months,” I answer proudly, swirling the wine in my glass. “We’ve got nothing on you and Janielle, though.”
Dom smirks, carefully plating more burgers. I take the plate from him, and he nods in thanks. “Hey, not everyone knows who they’re going to marry at sixteen years old.”
This time, my heart beats faster just at the brief mention of marriage. I try not to let myself think of a long-term commitment with Nikki just yet. To everyone else, we’ve been official for a few months. But to myself and Nikki, we’re just two best friends playing a role.
“It’s too early to talk about marriage just yet,” I reply with a soft grin.
“But it’s a possibility in the future, yes?” Dom asks, stacking the last few burgers on the plate.
All I can answer with is a subtle nod just before I feel an arm snake around my waist. I crane my neck to glance up at Nikki just as his lips press a kiss to my jaw. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Dom’s lazy smile and it puts me at ease knowing that Nikki and I have done our job at convincing everyone that what’s between us is true.
“Hi gorgeous,” Nikki greets breathily. “You doing okay?”
“Never better,” I answer truthfully, leaning back into his chest. I hand off the plate of burgers to Dom before directing my attention back to Nikki. “Are you?”
Nikki nods, arm tightening around my waist. “I’m perfect.” He holds up three empty beer bottles. “Come with me?”
I nod and take his hand, letting him lead me into the kitchen. While Nikki rummages through Janielle’s fridge for more beer, I steal a cannoli from the dessert tray, biting into the sweet cream.
“I’m having so much fun with you,” I blurt out honestly, licking the cream from my lips.
For a brief second, something flashes across Nikki’s face, almost as if my statement mimicked a bitter taste in his mouth. It’s gone just as fast as it came, replaced by an easy smile. “I am too, P.”
I bite my lip as Nikki opens the three bottles, eyes lingering on his tattooed arms. He catches me, smirking. “Pretty girl, you’re not exactly trying to hide it, you know.”
I blush, looking away like I always do when a compliment from Nikki is directed my way. And because I look away, I miss Nikki freeze in alarm, eyes wide, studying me.
When I turn back around, I notice his lips are in a thin line, jaw clenched ever so slightly. “P, I think we need to talk about something.”
His voice is serious, more serious than it’s ever been, and momentarily I fear the worst. Nikki’s fingers fidget nervously, and I can tell whatever is on his mind has been there for quite some time. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” It’s not a convincing answer, but I don’t say anything as he continues. “It’s more of a question, actually.” His hands fall at his side as he steps forward, exhaling a strangled breath. “Are we...what we’re doing…” His voice goes low. “We’re still pretending, right?”
There’s a lump forming in my throat, and I try my best to speak around it without giving off the impression that I’m either extremely hopeful he wants to make this real, or going to start crying because he wants to call everything off. “Yeah. Unless…unless you don’t want to pretend--.”
“No, no,” He says all too quickly, hands skimming my arms. “I like pretending. Pretending is good, safe. I just...wanted to make sure we’re still on the same page.” He grabs my hands, pressing a gentle kiss to each, before grabbing the bottles from the counter.
And as he leaves Janielle’s kitchen with a smile, I’m left standing alone and more confused than I’ve ever been.
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heartoferebor · 3 years
Note
⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ please!!! Tell me all the things!!!
Did you know I just spent HOURS thinking what I could talk about because some of the most interesting things that I'm burning to talk about HAVEN'T BEEN PUBLISHED YET (looking at you, Eskel Big Bang Fic that's sitting finished on my hard drive, waiting for the posting date...) Anyway, here, have some random tidbits for Every Little Scar that I CAN talk about: - This was originally a completely different fic. Like, COMPLETELY different. It started off as simple Orpheus & Eurydice ripoff for Geralt/Eskel. THen I thought it might be fun if I did additional trials. Then I thought it would be kinda great if Lambert was a part of it. Then I started plotting and realised that Vesemir would NEVER let them go on their own. And then I realised I also wanted Coën to be there and where there's Lambert/Coën there's also Lambert/Coën/Aiden in my brain so I had to add the damn Cat too (Aiden is GREAT comic relief). It took me SO MUCH plotting and back and forth to work out how on earth I was going to do that and still make it work. I rewrote the second scene of the fic about five times (whereas I wrote the first scene in one single setting blasting Tamino's Habibi on repeat and hardly had to change a word during edits).
- The second chapter has a paragraph that foreshadows like 50% of the rest of the fic :)
- This bit from the first chapter is the heart of the entire fic in five lines:
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As someone who'll likely never be in a romantic relationship or have biological children, it is beyond important to me to portray all the other wonderful types of love and found family that are out there and show that they are just as important and fulfilling.
- About 1k into chapter 4 I had ANOTHER epiphany about the plot and went a bit berserk and started plotting stuff with excel tables and all that and then rewrote bits of the second and third chapters to fit (thankfully I realised that BEFORE I posted chapter 2 lmao).
- Vesemir makes me cry a lot every time I write his POV, I love this deeply flawed old wolf so very very much.
- There are so many different vibes that influenced this that even I can't remember them all haha (from Discworld's Death to gothic horror and other various horror genres to Greek mythology to Black Sail's Death scenes, to The Seventh Seal, etc etc).
- I am going to stop talking now bc otherwise I'll just ramble on forever lmao
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houseofhalation · 4 years
Text
Am I attempting to write slice of life comedy because I’m depressed and having a hard time writing the three billion other things I have going on, despite never having written slice of life comedy ever at all in my entire life? Yeah.
Am I sticking my entire middle finger up at the canon as it stands and doing whatever I want? Also yeah.
Anyway enjoy the first part of this so far untitled thing. Lots of swearing, currently genderless MC, let’s all ignore the canon for a minute okay?
Monday mornings are extremely, unrelentingly, unquestionably cursed. Nothing good ever happens on a Monday. That’s how you know you’re utterly boned when your boss asks you to come in early for a private meeting. On a Monday.
Fuck. 
You haul yourself out of bed and wonder how much effort you should put into your appearance if you’re getting fired. Eventually you settle on not too much and crawl your way into the office, a prompt forty-five minutes before it’s actually meant to open. Most things are still dark. Your desk looks cold and neglected, and you wish you could have neglected it for just a bit longer. 
The bushy facial hair on your boss’s lips twitches in what is either a smile or a grimace when he sees you, and while you’re not sure which would be best to see at the moment, you think that it’s maybe not a grimace. You heave a sigh and follow him into his office, staring out his window into the still-sleeping city. 
He sits down behind his desk. 
You sit across from him, wondering if you should have brought a box or if your tote bag is big enough to carry everything out in. Regardless, it’s going to be a bitch to haul the contents of your desk home on the subway. 
He stares at you long enough that you start to wonder if you called the meeting. Then you remember that’s absurd. Isn’t it? It’s becoming abundantly clear that you shouldn’t have had that last glass of wine before going to bed. 
“We have a new client,” your boss says, and because you’re too busy wondering if your LinkedIn profile is up to date and considering his similarities to a walrus, you don’t immediately hear his words. They hit you like a brick wall.
“Okay,” you say because you’re not sure what else there is to say. 
“They’re out of the country,” he continues, looking more and more nervous. The last time he’s looked this nervous a prominent client went on a week-long bender and livestreamed most of it. Christ, that had been a mess to clean up and almost made you go on a bender of your own.
“You noted on your application that you wouldn’t mind relocating,” he says as if he can read your thoughts. “And you’re the only one in the firm without a family, so…”
It doesn’t sound like you’re being fired. 
“I’m not being fired?” You ask because you just have to be sure. Your boss blinks down at you and cements the walrus imagery in your mind forever. 
“Of course not,” he tells you. “They’ve requested someone to handle all of their online presence, and the firm determined that you would be the best fit.”
Most likely because as the newest hire, you’re lowest on the totem pole. Ugh.
“Now, you’ll be living on campus, so all of your accommodations will be taken care of. Nothing to worry about, really. The contract is indeterminate, so you’ll be there for…” your boss’s tongue peeks out to lick his lips and oh, shit, he’s super nervous. Not a good sign. “You’ll be there for as long as they need you to be,” he finally finishes. He slides a suspiciously slim manilla folder across his desk at you, narrowly missing one of his goofy little desk decorations as he does so. You flip it open and find a single page inside. 
Welcome to the Royal Academy of Diavolo! It proclaims proudly, right beside poorly-framed, blurry photographs of what you assume is a student, dressed up either for a theatre production or for a halloween event. Either way, not a super awesome first impression. You can’t even tell how old the student is supposed to be.
“Is this it?” You wave the single paper beside your head as if waiting for it to multiply magically. Your boss has the decency to look ashamed. “Can you tell me anything else about it?”
“It’s a school,” he says. 
“Right, but… College? University? Primary education? Public? ...Private?” Probably private, you determine with another glance at the name, and christ, is that comic sans? Your boss coughs lightly.
“It’s a school,” he says again, as if that in any way answers any of your questions. 
Fucking fantastic.
---
If you didn’t need the money so bad, you’d have tossed the sad excuse for a client profile in the trash. What the hell is your boss thinking, taking on this client? But you do need the money, so you go home and pack a few bags and look at your sad, shitty little apartment you sublet from your college roommate. They’ll be able to find someone new no problem, and you’re honestly not too sad to be saying goodbye to the shoebox. 
Sayo-fucking-nara. 
At least room and board is covered at your new gig at the mystery school.
---
You agreed to meet at the train station because that’s a public place with plenty of security cameras and witnesses, and honestly, if you’re going to get murdered for this job you want your kidnapping to be recorded, at the very least. You don’t know if your chauffeur is going to be holding a little sign with your name on it like in the movies or not, but you think probably not. You scan the crowd for someone who looks like they're from the Royal Academy of Whevever-the-hell and give up after an hour of sitting on the hard wooden bench provided for poor schmucks like you. 
The whole thing is probably a joke. Ha, ha. Very fucking funny, let’s haze the new employee. A lawsuit sounds like the perfect way to round out your Monday morning. 
Irritated at a brand new level, you haul your bags into the bathroom after you, fully intending to splash some water on your face. If you didn’t think they’d get stolen, you’d have left them behind on the bench. But seeing as how just about every earthly possession you have is within them, you’re not too keen on the idea.
So they follow you into the pitch-black void that is meant to be the restroom, which really, is just another cherry on the shit sundae that has become your morning. You’re tired, in the last place you want to be right now, chasing after some stupid-sounding client that probably doesn’t exist, and now the electricity is on the fritz.
Perfect.
Awesome.
Two enthusiastic thumbs up. 
You swallow a growl and fling out your arm, fully intending to find the wall and, hopefully, the lightswitch. You don’t find anything at all, just more black void, and why the hell aren’t your eyes adjusting so you take a mincing step forward. And then another. 
And another, just for good measure, which turns out to be the wrong decision, all things considered. You go hurtling forward and just before you make impact, all you can think is they’d better have cleaned this godforsaken floor sometime this decade before you smash against flagstone.
Not the tile you’d been expecting. 
What?
Your phone skitters out of your hands and you hear something on it snap with a sick, twisting feeling in your stomach. That sounded expensive and you don’t relish trying to get it fixed on a budget. Not to mention that you’re… somewhere and without a means of communication. 
“Oh!” Someone exclaims from above you just as you become aware that you can see. Kind of. The lights are still dim, but the moon gleaming in from the huge windows provides at least a little light to see by.
Wait.
Windows?
“You’re early,” the voice says, interrupting your stalled-out train of thought. Hands reach down and pick up your bags, and then help you to your feet. You allow them to because this has to be a dream. You’ve not woken up just yet, surely, and any minute now you will, and you’re going to get fired like you thought you were going to be. This is just a stress dream. A weird one.
“Sorry about that; we didn’t expect you for a few more minutes. Things were still being prepared.”
Or you’re dead. You’ve died in your sleep of an aneurysm or something and this is your brain’s last dying gasps as it tries to make sense of all your misfiring neurons or whatever. It’s been a long time since freshman biology class. 
“Either way, let me be the first to introduce you to both the Royal Academy of Diavolo and the Devildom!”
You stare dumbly up at the huge mountain of a man, dressed in what looks absurdly like a red military uniform. He smiles widely at you, eyes crinkled up in expressions of pure joy like you’re not dying or stuck in a fever dream. You pinch yourself hard on your arm.
Son of a bitch, it hurts.
Which means it’s high time your brain catches up and tries to process all of the words that have been spoken at you. A herculean task, really, because they don’t make a lick of sense and now that you think about it, maybe you hit your head when you tripped in the dark. Yeah. That would make sense. You’ve got a concussion, probably. Those come with hallucinations, right? You have no idea how concussions work, but that doesn’t stop you from deciding you have one.
“This… is not the bathroom,” you announce. 
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tarithenurse · 3 years
Text
Nightingale - 27
Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Hatake Kakashi &/x Fem!OC Contents: Oh the feels and worries. Slow progress in exchange for a bit with Team 7. A/N: Getting closer to post all I’ve written which means I should probably get on paper all that’s rummaging around in my brain. As usual, ASK or REBLOG for tag! HUUUGE thanks to all who are reblogging already <3
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Ch. 27
Spending most of his youth learning to corner people – and frankly, becoming one of the best at it – Kakashi can’t help the jittery nerves cascading down his back as he looks up to see the Third standing beside him. Hands on his back, the old man’s puffing on a dying pipe but his attention is on the memorial before them.
“Hokage-sama.”
“The pain never quite leaves.” The smile is bittersweet. “You don’t come here as much as you used to.”
I guess not. A fresh pang of guilt tries to undermine Kakashi’s heart. “I suppose...some days it’s easier to look to the future.”
“Hmmm...”
None of them say anything. Neither is it necessary to look to the other when the time comes and they silently say their “see-you-some-day”s and begin the walk back to the Academy.
Obediently following the elder man, Kakashi quickly realizes they are heading to Iruka’s classroom. Convenient, he puzzles, seeing as I was gonna go there. Class is just finished and the men step back to allow the rush of student to exit and regain their longed-for freedom before they can enter.
“Huh? Hokage-sama? Kakashi?”
...
From a distance, it would be easy to mistake the two figures for schoolmates. Pink and blue closely together, the giggles making the boys nearby glance in nervousness as they try to figure out what’s so funny, and Kakashi only goes easy on his students out of pity – kids their age still has a lot to learn about girls. And we never seem to figure it out completely.
“Although I commend you for remaining alert to your surroundings,” the sensei drawls, “losing focus completely won’t do you any good.”
The statement it underlined to near comical effect as they trigger the trap they had been trying to disarm and find themselves entangled in the thin threads crisscrossing between the trees all of a sudden.
“Damnit!”
“...moron,” the broody one grumbles, already looking for a way to get free despite his teammate’s flailing.
“WhaaAAAT?!” Naruto throws himself heart first into a shouting match with no clear opponent.
Better let them hang for a while and cool down. “Girls?”
“Hai, sensei,” the girls in question smile, one making the jōnin frown behind the mask.
“Care to explain what Naruto and Sasuke did wrong?”
He notices that Uguisu gives the younger girl a chance to answer first. “Naruto was being clumsy.”
It’s not wrong.
“And neither had noticed the second trap. It was set to spring either when triggered normally or when the first was disarmed,” the woman adds.
Three pairs of eyes scour the ground for any trace. The darkest close, accepting defeat, while the lighter pairs remain unsatisfied until Kakashi pokes at a particular root with a stick and a thinly woven net wraps the boys too tight to allow movement.
“Well, that’s it for today,” he smiles, “get a good night’s rest and be ready at eight o’clock.”
“Hey! Senseeei!” Naruto yells after the retreating adults, “what about getting us out!?”
But the white-haired man merely waves and professes his faith in the team to figure it out.
Out of sight, he leads Uguisu onto a path leading further away from town. He enjoys these quiet moments in the forest, whether they’re walking or lounging about. The best thing, and no one can change his mind on this, is when they’re lying somewhere and she’s carting her fingers through his stubborn hair. Or the rare instances where she feels safe enough to give into a kiss.
It won’t happen today (at least not right now) his instinct tells him. Something’s got the woman riled up, as if Naruto has poured itching powder into her clothes and she’s too proud to admit it; but she’s fidgeting with her hair, with the hem of her sleeve. Not that Naruto could manage to pull a prank like that on her. Besides, she’s barely able to contain a smile.
Leaping effortlessly up onto the thick branches of an oak, Kakashi smiles at the soundless pursuit which only stills when they both sit with their legs dangling in the air and the gnarly bark presses patterns through their trousers and into their thighs.
“Out with it.”
Uguisu arches an eyebrow, but the smile proves that she’s not surprised. “Umino Iruka says I’ll have my written exam in two weeks.” I know. “Aaaand until then, I don’t have to attend classes anymore.” Knew that too. “So! I was thinki-”
���No.”
Watching her deflate, all the exited happiness leaking from her features, Kakashi feels like it would nicer to sit down for a beating at the hands of Gai.
“You don’t know what I wanted to say.”
Gotta do this right. “You want to tag along on the mission with Team 7,” he calmly proves her wrong, “for the sake of the experience, probably, and to avoid getting bored...maybe you’d even say you’d feel safer with me around.”
The woman bows her head. Dejected. “I do feel safer around you.”
“I...thank you...but I won’t be enough if worst comes to worst. You know that.” Although the movements are minuscule, delicate, he can see how she’s curling up on herself. “In Konoha, you have the advantage of safety in numbers. Everyone is on high alert and have been since you let yourself be known.”
“But they don’t like me...”
Carefully, he reaches out to tip her face upwards. There are no tears. No anger. Just...empty despair that breaks his heart all over again because he knows it’s grown from distrust.
“Give them a chance,” he pleads, “you might just find friends here if you can grant them the same chance you’ve given me once.” Gingerly kissing the tip of her nose, he notices the flicker of hope in the dark eyes. “Iruka trusts you...and praises you. Seems Sakura adores you too. Kurenai and Asuma always wants to know if you’re doing okay...I think they might feel sort of responsible for your well being just like Anko does.”
“You’re just saying this to make me feel better.”
“Doesn’t mean it can’t be true.”
“Hrm.”
Releasing the loose hold Kakashi has on the woman he loves, he frees his face completely. “Uguisu, I want to make you happy. Want you to be safe. Always. You’re made to be free, so it must be hard to be confined this way until the tests are done and your skill is recognized.”
“But we both know I’ll never be send on a mission,” she whispers wryly without eye contact.
Yeah. “Not one on behalf of outsiders, at least.”
“And in your opinion: nothing that can put me at risk of Orochimaru discovering me.”
“I can’t hold you back forever,” he sighs, still trying to get her to look at him, “this will probably be the last time I’m away and can rest knowing you’re safe.”
All the thoughts and emotions inside Kakashi are threatening to spill over, to tumble out of his mouth without a care for the swirling maelstrom they might evoke, and as tempting as it is to let the damn break he knows a wrong move or word could further the divide he’s been breaching for months.
Uguisu’s hand is gentle and calm as it turns his to cup her cheek. When she leans into the palm, the jōnin allows the worries to evaporate in favour of hoping that he’ll have the chance to admit his feelings some other time. She knows anyways. All he has to do right now is to return the little smile brightening the dark eyes.
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madroxed · 4 years
Text
“YOU KNOW THAT YOUR BOOK IS UPSIDE DOWN, RIGHT?” [fic meme. SIMON/RAPHAEL, COLLEGE AU, ENEMIES TO LOVERS. for @hoechlder​. @ao3.]
+
“Okay,” Raphael Santiago’s saying, leaning back smoothly in his chair in a way that would absolutely have Simon unbalancing onto the floor, and offering his trademark smug smile at the poor girl across the table, “but madness as a trope has been at the base of the ghost story at least since Shakespeare…”
Simon tunes him out. It’s probably a really good point and he should be making notes, but he just….can’t. Raphael starts talking and Simon automatically switches off; it’s been that way since approximately nought point two seconds into their freshman year when Raphael had eyed Simon’s ironic Care Bears t-shirt with disgust and asked him if he wasn’t confusing college with elementary school.
Simon hates him.
+
“You don’t hate him,” Jace says later, when Simon’s finishing up rant number 1458 on why Raphael Santiago has been put on this earth specifically to torture him. Clary shoots Jace a sceptical look so Simon doesn’t have to. “He’s part of your college experience. Everyone needs a good nemesis.”
“Um,” Clary says, “who’s yours?”
“Your father,” Jace says, like it’s obvious. “I didn’t say it had to be another student. Izzy’s is the conservative dress code, and Alec’s is every obnoxious heterosexual couple he knows.”
“That’s us,” Clary tells Simon with a smile.
Jace salutes. “It’s worse because he has to spend all his time with us, but better because he can tell us to our face how gross we are.” He wipes away a fake tear. “He’ll look back on those memories fondly.”
“Okay, I get it. You guys get off on tormenting Alec,” Simon says, “but just so we’re clear, Raphael Santiago really is the worst.”
“We know, honey,” Clary says, patting his leg.
Simon feels very patronized.
+
Magnus decides that a Wednesday night is a totally reasonable time to throw a party, which is patently untrue but they all go anyway.
They lose Alec almost immediately, taking up his place at Magnus’ side as his boyfriend holds court, and Izzy disappears shortly after, followed by the eyes of roughly a million admirers Simon can’t fault for a second.
“You good?” Clary asks, and Simon waves a hand.
“Go. Find a corner to make out in. I’ll be fine.”
“Great, thanks,” Jace says, tugging Clary away before she can change her mind.
“You’re blocking the door,” a horribly familiar voice says, and Simon squeezes his eyes shut for a long moment before stepping aside.
“What are you doing here?” Simon asks before he can stop himself. He doesn’t care, he really doesn’t, except that he absolutely does and it’s going to drive him crazy for the rest of the night.
Raphael shoots him a look that says he knows exactly how Simon feels. “Unfortunately, I live here.”
“Uh,” Simon says, and wonders if he knew that. He’s ninety-percent sure he didn’t, in which case he and Alec are going to have a serious chat. “Since when?”
“Since the start of the year.” Raphael rolls his eyes. “Not that it’s any of your business, but Magnus is technically my guardian. Was my guardian. Obviously that stopped being important when I turned eighteen, but the damage was done.”
“And by damage,” Simon says, “you mean emotions?”
He thinks Raphael may actually growl. It’s fascinating. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be studying? You looked a little lost in Monday’s seminar…”
“Wow,” Simon says, and wonders where the alcohol is, “A, not all of us feel the need to take over discussions. And B, fuck you.”
Raphael smirks, and Simon wants to scream. No one in the world is able to get under his skin this much, and that’s saying something considering he and Jace accidentally became friends in sophomore year.
“I’m walking away now,” Simon says, and ignores Raphael’s mocking laugh behind him.
+
Simon’s drunk. Very, very drunk. Possibly the most drunk he’s ever been.
“Nope,” Clary says, pointing her glass at him. Half of it sloshes over the rim. “Remember prom? We were wasted.”
“God,” Simon says, scrunching up his nose. “That was bad.”
“So bad,” Clary agrees. “Where’s the vodka?”
Simon passes her a bottle that, actually, may be tequila? Honestly at this point he’s not sure it matters.
“Did you know Raphael lives here?” he asks out of nowhere, and Clary gasps.
“No! Here here?”
“Yep!”
Clary blinks and drinks her tequila. “Wow. So weird. You should go say hi!”
Simon snorts. “I already did. Sort of.”
“Well go say it again,” Clary says, pushing ineffectively at his arm. “With sexy eyes or something.”
Simon’s brain shorts out. “…What? Why?”
Clary laughs. “Because you like him, doofus. You like like him. You want to kiss him and marry him and be shouty about…comic books and that show only you two watch forever.”
“You liar,” Simon says, because all of that is blatantly untrue. Clary has no idea what she’s talking about. Absolutely none. Simon hates Raphael. Hates his stupid smug smile and his expensive jackets and his perfect hair and the way he always makes Simon feel hot and awkward and like he’s the only person in the room.
“Oh shit,” he says, and Clary nods, patting him on the shoulder.
“S’ok,” she says.
“It really, really isn’t,” Simon says and snatches the bottle of tequila back.
+
It’s very possible he’s dying. Everything’s both very loud and very bright even though his eyes are definitely still closed, and it tastes like something’s died on his tongue.
“Fuck,” he croaks and rolls over only to crash promptly to the floor. “Fuck.”
When he finally manages to open his eyes, Raphael’s staring down at him, wearing a heavy brocade robe and holding a truly giant mug. “You okay down there?”
“Your couch sucks,” Simon says, and Raphael shrugs.
“Magnus chose it, blame him.”
“Where’s everyone else?” Simon asks, attempting to sit up and failing spectacularly.
“They, like normal house guests, went home when the party finished.”
“Ah,” Simon says. “And, uh, I…didn’t?”
Raphael frowns. “You don’t remember?”
“Nope,” Simon says with a wince. “Too much…I’m gonna guess tequila based on the throbbing behind my eyes.”
“…Right,” Raphael says, and if Simon didn’t know better he’d say he was upset. He’s probably just mad that Simon’s still there, taking up his couch on a Thursday morning and stopping him reading the entire works of Tolstoy or whatever it is Raphael does for fun.
“I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I can, you know, stand up without breaking something.”
Raphael sighs. “There’s coffee in the kitchen.”
+
The kitchen’s a disaster zone, bottles and empty cups everywhere, and Simon doesn’t want to know what he just stepped in. Still, the smell of fresh coffee manages to take away some of the edge and Simon goes through cupboards until he finds a mug almost as large of Raphael’s.
“So,” he says, when Raphael follows him as far as the doorframe, “did you, uh, need help cleaning up, or…?”
“You really don’t remember anything about last night?” Raphael says, ignoring the question, and Simon frowns.
“I mean, I remember getting here and you telling me you live here, and I remember Jace starting up a game of beer pong, but after that…nope, not really.”
“Do you remember the party Magnus threw for Isabelle’s birthday our freshman year?” Raphael asks, which is completely out of left field, wow.
“Sure,” Simon says carefully. “Not the specifics, but I remember it was a fun night.”
“So,” Raphael says, and Simon’s not so hungover he doesn’t recognize the danger in his tone, “you don’t remember finding me on the balcony and telling me that you, and I quote, found me ‘super hot, especially when I do that smug asshole thing.’?”
Simon blinks.
“And,” Raphael continues, “you don’t remember the fourth of July when you brought me melted ice-cream and told me you liked my voice? Or the time you kissed me in the garden at one of Isabelle’s stupid sorority parties?” He takes a step forward and Simon swallows nervously. “Or last night when you found me in my room and told me you wanted to marry me and have shouty arguments forever?”
“Um,” Simon says.
“I see,” Raphael says. “It was just the tequila, then.”
He turns to leave and Simon finally remember to actually do something.
“Wait,” he says, and Raphael pauses. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
Raphael looks at him like he’s an idiot. Which…fair. “Because you didn’t.”
Which—
Fuck.
The thing is, well, okay, yeah. Simon’s had a crush on Raphael since he insulted his Care Bears t-shirt and proceeded to start an argument over the benefits of new media in literary studies. He knows this. Sure, he tries to keep it buried as far down in his own denial as he can, but it doesn’t help when he spends most of every shared seminar they have staring at the sharp jut of Raphael’s collarbone beneath his stupidly expensive button-downs.
It’s a thing.
He just…hadn’t known that maybe it was a shared thing.
“I woke up on the couch,” he says, which isn’t at all what he’d meant to come out of his mouth but at least it’s a full sentence.
“Obviously,” Raphael says. “You were wasted.”
“So I didn’t kiss you?”
The corner of Raphael’s mouth tilts up, just a little. “Oh, you did.”
“So you didn’t kiss me back?” Simon says, piecing events together slowly but surely.
“I never do,” Raphael says, and Simon frowns, feeling confused and a little hurt. “I always tell you to kiss me when you’re sober. You never do.”
Simon, it turns out, is the biggest idiot on the planet. Clearly college is wasted on him.
“Right,” he says, digging the last remnants of his bravery out from his pounding skull. “Right.”
It’s probably not super romantic that he steps in the wet patch again, but as first kisses goes it’s…well. It’s pretty fucking excellent, actually.
Right up until Raphael pulls away.
“God, you really need to brush your teeth.”
“Yeah,” Simon says, backing up awkwardly. “Yeah, I’ll just—”
“There’s spare toothbrushes under the sink,” Raphael says, rolling his eyes, but the flush on his cheeks gives him away.
“Be right back,” Simon says, and tries to remember where the bathroom is.
+
Raphael’s doing the leaning thing again. Simon wants to try it but he’s not going to risk crashing to the floor whilst they’re still in the honeymoon phase. Besides, he doesn’t think he’d look anywhere near as cool.
Raphael’s embroidered jacket is draped over the back of his chair and his shirt is unbuttoned at the collar, and Simon has no idea what conversation the professor’s just struck up.
Which isn’t too different from normal, really.
Raphael catches his eye and Simon’s heart does a truly embarrassing skippy thing in his chest.
“You know that your book is upside down, right?” Raphael says, smirk sliding into place, and Simon sighs.
He can always kiss it away later.
+
[for the au + trope + prompt game. send me one!]
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