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devildom-moss · 4 months

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hello !! happy anniversary to ur blog and so sorry again for not reading ur rules for the flash requests post 💔

may i request sfw + 12 w solomon. just him pining for reader. like doesn't even have to include dialogue w/mc, i just wanna see him being so horrendously down bad for them hehe thank you 🫶🏻

Thank you, and no worries! I hope you don't mind headcanons with this one. Now, did I get too invested in this request? I think so. It's almost double the intended length. Do I regret that? Not in the slightest. I hope you enjoy it!!

1 year anniversary flash request event - SFW

(Solomon x gn!MC)

Prompt 12 – Your choice: Pining

Pining!Solomon, whose hands tremble when you hug him as he slowly brings his arms up to try to hug you back. For his entire life, he had never needed to be held by anyone – not in the way that he needs you. When he’s in your arms, he almost can’t believe it. It feels too good to be true, like some cruel setup designed to bring him a moment of pure joy before ripping you from his grasp. So, his hands tremble with uncertainty and love and hope that he can never speak of. Solomon will snap himself out of his fear, and when he does, his hands will grip your back and pull you in. He never knows when to let go – or rather, he never wants to. If only he could keep you in his arms for a second longer. If only he could hold you every day. If only your warmth would linger on his skin forever.

Pining!Solomon, who will never give up sitting with his legs spread apart now that he knows the feeling of your warmth pressed against him when he refused to give you the space. He knows it’s rude, but he would do anything to keep that prolonged contact. He needs it. Politeness be damned. What does politeness know of the comfort he gets from the physical proof that you are right by his side?

Pining!Solomon, who traces the spines of his books, mapping your name through the topography of every curve or scratch as he waits for you to arrive for your study sessions with him. When you’re running late, your name exists on the spine of every book on his desk. You’ll live on them forever. Now, he can scarcely scan through his personal library without feeling your presence.

Pining!Solomon, who reviews your last sent message when he hasn’t seen you all day. His fingers hover over the screen as he contemplates reaching out. But is one day too soon? He scans his mind for any believable excuse to contact you.

Pining!Solomon, whose mouth is a reflection of his mind, always wandering in your direction. Whether he’s chatting with the demons or angels or in a conference with the Sorcerers’ Society. He can’t resist asking about your well-being or your daily life (the parts of it that he isn’t involved in). He brags about his adorable, talented apprentice to the Sorcerers’ Society and even random demons and witches he’s acquainted with. However, he’s always careful not to brag too much – less someone try to harm you or steal you right from under his watchful eye. If anyone so much as considered it, Solomon would see red until his anger was soothed by disproportionate aggression or the comfort of your voice and touch.

Pining!Solomon, whose body follows after you whenever you pull away. When you break off a kiss, he leans into you, chasing the feeling of your lips on him again. When you let go of his hand, he reaches forward, ever so slightly, trying to recapture your touch. When you let go during a hug, he inches just a bit closer. When you walk ahead of him, he picks up his pace to catch you. When your bonds strengthen with the others, his heart aches, trying to crawl its way back to you.

Pining!Solomon, who doesn’t know how to be alone anymore. His mind has your face and voice memorized. When you aren’t around, sometimes he imagines you calling him from the other room – that if he sat up and walked in there right now, he’d see your precious face, smiling at him. He’ll use technology and magic to preserve these memories with routine frequency – in case the worst should ever happen.

Pining!Solomon, who has never known fear like this. His entire life could collapse in on itself, making him an emotional black hole, from a simple shift in your existence. That is the magnetic strength of his love for you. No change in your presence goes unnoticed. If you got hurt. . . if you died. . . he would pull all realms into his pain.

But, also, Pining!Solomon, who has never known peace like this. If anything could wash over the wreckage of a garden that Solomon has cultivated himself – sick with rot and death that poisons instead of fertilizing, that smells of chemicals and rust, where only the toxic and wretched could bloom – and make it divine, it would be your presence. It would be your laugh when Asmo has pranked Solomon, and the witty sorcerer was none the wiser. It would be the way you danced along to music with Solomon in the kitchen as you prepared dinner – if for no other reason than pointless joy, then to distract him from his desire to help with the cooking. It would be the way you rolled your eyes when Solomon caused you trouble, because your annoyance couldn’t overcome your affection for him. It would be your warmth and the gentle sound of your breathing as you slumped against Solomon’s shoulder – when he longed to trace his fingers along your beloved form, but the fear of waking you stilled his hands. It would be the trusting, understanding smile on your face, when Solomon couldn’t express his feelings in anything more than a whispered “I love you” – even when you needed his praise shouted to the sky for all to understand.

A/N: this will be the last request for the 1 year event - SFW request day. I still have 3 more SFW requests in my inbox though.

Requests are now closed. I will be working on the NSFW requests tomorrow. Don't worry, if you got your flash request in (or if you're waiting on requests from the previous round of general requests), I'll still be working on those. This was a lot of fun so far, so thank you all for participating with me.

#please I love him so much after writing this. My heart aches ahh #anon #requests #moss 1 year event sfw #moss 1 year event #gn!mc #solomon #obey me headcanons #obey me #obey me solomon #solomon x reader #solomon x mc

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rcenvs3000w24 · 3 months

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My Journey with Nature at Grandma's Cottage

Hello everyone. My name is Rylie and I am a fourth year biosci student at the University os Guelph. Today, I want to take you on a little journey – not too far, just down memory lane to a place that holds a special spot in my heart and has played a crucial role in shaping my connection with the great outdoors. I'm talking about my grandma's charming cottage, tucked away in the midst of nature's embrace.

Picture this – me, a wide-eyed kid, running through meadows, chasing butterflies, and letting my imagination run wild amidst the trees. Little did I know, those carefree days at Grandma's cottage were planting the seeds for a lifelong love affair with nature.

Fast forward to my teenage years, when I started realizing there. My grandma became my nature guide, teaching me the names of wildflowers, the stories behind the ancient trees, and the secrets of the forest. Our walks turned into lessons in mindfulness, with Grandma as my guru in the school of Mother Nature.

Ever heard of a place feeling like a warm, comforting hug? Well, Grandma's cottage is just that. It's what the textbooks call "a sense of place." The familiar sights, the sounds of the wind whispering through the trees, and the aroma of my Grandma's apple pie – it all weaves together to create a haven that feels like home, no matter where life takes me.

As I grew up, my connection with Grandma's cottage deepened. It became my refuge, a place where I could escape the concrete jungle and recharge my spirit. The gentle melodies of birdsong and the calming ripples of the nearby stream became my therapy in a fast-paced world.

In the hustle and bustle of adulthood, Grandma's cottage became more than just a physical place. It became a metaphorical anchor, grounding me in the present and reminding me of life's simple joys. Nature, through the lens of this rustic retreat, transformed from a playground to an inspiration, teaching me to appreciate the beauty in every moment.

Some final thoughts:

So here I am, sharing my love for Grandma's cottage and the profound impact it has had on my relationship with nature. As I continue to visit this haven, I'm reminded of the importance of staying connected to the earth, of finding solace in its embrace, and of preserving its magic for generations to come.

I encourage you to seek out your own Grandma's cottage, whether it's a hidden spot in the woods or a bustling city park. Let nature be your guide, your sanctuary, and your constant reminder of the beauty that surrounds us. I am so excited to read everyones blog posts this semester! Until next time, happy adventuring!

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furnace-of-hope-tales · 1 year

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Hi! This is a sideblog for updates on the story I typically tag on my main blog as #adira. This story, in fact, is a series which I love very much. My main is @catkin-morgs

The first book (title chosen but redacted bc I don't want it to be too easy to find my under my author name lol) deals most with Adira's struggle in finding faith. Here's a summary of characters and themes and things.

Main themes:

Truth, what it is, how to find it etc

Integrity, staying true to what you believe in no matter the cost

Trust, who to trust especially as connected with the whole matter of truth

Stillness, characters struggle to be calm and still and await God's prompting and they are working on learning that

Important characters:

Adira. The protagonist. Lively, happy and tumultuous, with an unshakeable determination to find truth in whatever form it takes. I need to write a better character sketch of her.

Emily. Side/prominent background character. Complicated relationship with Adira, as she's adopted by Adira's parents but they aren't particularly close (they were as children) nor do they consider one another family. In previous drafts they were far closer, but it doesn't fit so much with how it's seeming at present.

Tom. Side/co-main character. Introduced during the first book and quickly becomes a beloved friend. Struggles with an illness (?) that has caused him to miss a year of school entirely and forces him to rely to some extent on Adira to help him with his classes as she is a whiz at his worst subject, history. Whether illness or injury or what, Tom ends up with a permanent disability that is walking-related.

Dorothy. Adira's mother. She may or may not be an important character in the first book depending on how much of her POV exists - she has some very important stuff that happens which sets up foreshadowing for later books, but worldbuilding may make it little enough that it's not worth including. Hence, she may be important or she may be merely background.

Neil. I don't even know what he's doing during most of this draft. He is introduced during the story and is important in one section - hence I may introduce him quite late or even find a way to work around needing him and introduce him between books.

Mr Saunders. Helps Adira with her doubts and has a complicated, unknown history with her mother. Neither will elaborate, but there's a lot of emotion between them.

Tom's family. They're important to help with the overall sense of community I want to build in this book, but I don't know how well that will translate or how long I'll spend on them.

Current progress: I've written so far three separate first drafts of the first book, one in 2018 (111k, abandoned), one in 2020 (52k, somewhat scattered), and one in 2021 (93k, not entirely coherent). I'm currently overhauling it (including rereading my 2020/2021 drafts which I may draw directly from) and plan to begin rewrites once I've completely re-outlined it and kept the bits I plan to keep. I'll likely at least somewhat outline the next few books as well, at the same time. I also need to do extensive research to ensure I portray Tom correctly, apart from anything else.

Book summary:

This is our world, but in the future, so to speak: a world which, once wracked by war, has settled into peace, with one Ruler, one hierarchy and one religion. The internet is a legend, a distant memory read of in books and wondered about. Everything in this world seems good. But there are dark things underway, and a system that will stop at nothing to preserve the status quo. Despite its seeming stability, pressure in the wrong ways could bring it down, and those who benefit from it are determined to make sure that is not the case. It is a system built on lies… what will they do to prevent the truth, once discovered, from getting out? And what, in any case, is truth? Adira has been confident she knows, all her life: but when another point of view comes into her life, it throws everything she thought she knew into disarray. She must discover the truth of the world before the uncertainty tears her apart, when friends and family are pulling her in both directions.

#adira #furnace of hope #pinned #catkin sideblog #writeblr #writers of tumblr #request an excerpt about/with any character and I'll either write one or find one from one of my drafts :D

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transphilza · 2 years

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I. I dont know how to cope. This seems fake still. It feels like if I come onto social media it's just all mourning and I can't bc its jsut a reminder that he's gone. I dont know what to do. This is the first big loss I've experienced, I dont know how to cope.

I know he lived a good life, a happy one. And I'm happy for him. But like. I just. Dont know. Its suffocating. I just want to curl up into a ball and cry about it, but I also want to forget.

I'll get distracted and feel fine and then I'll remember and feel guilty for being happy and fuck dude I just. I dont know what to do. Writing things out like this helps a bit, the pinned post on my blog helped, writing that out was helpful. But I'm at a loss. How are you coping at all? I cant watch the clips they hurt too much I'm feeling so deeply adn I didjtn watch much if his content I'm

heya nonnie <3 i’m gonna answer this under the cut cause i found i had a lot to say

i’ve only dealt with one major loss in my life before this one and it was last year, so i’m still very much still learning about grief and how to deal with it. i honestly don’t think it’s ever something you can prepare yourself for, not fully, so just know that feeling overwhelmed or unequipped or at a loss is completely fine and i feel you

in terms of coping, i think really allowing myself time to just sit and do nothing except think about him and cry my eyes out has helped. if you haven’t watched phil’s stream from yesterday, i seriously recommend it. it’s just music and minecraft, so it was less overwhelming than trying to watch clips or videos for me. i was crying for six hours after i heard the news… i cried for another hour when i woke up this morning. it’s okay to do nothing except curl up and cry and feel bad. it’s difficult and horrible and it’s okay to just sit with that feeling. give yourself time. distractions can be wonderful, but don’t force yourself into them, don’t force forgetting or moving on if you don’t feel ready for that

additionally, understand that feelings don’t have to be mutually exclusive to one another, if that makes sense. you’re allowed to feel happy just as much as you’re allowed to feel sad, and you’re allowed to feel all of it all at once too. you’re allowed to laugh and cry at the same time

for me? …the clips hurt a lot too. the vods hurt a lot. the pictures and the memories hurt a lot. they make me cry and they make my chest clench up but i keep on watching them because i know that i need to feel that horrible horrible feeling in order to process that any of this is real. even still, i can hardly believe it. mostly though, i know that above all else, techno has been a massive source of joy and comfort and inspiration in my life, and i need those clips to remind me of that. i need to remember what he means to me while i grieve, so i can preserve the joy of these memories. i’ve sort of been inspired by him even in my grieving, that immovable object mindset of his… i refuse to let this ruin the positive impact he’s had on me. i refuse to let my grief outweigh my love, no matter how awful and overwhelming it is…. does that make sense?

i’m really good at pretending that i understand my feelings more than i do, and i’m sort of eloquent, so i might come across as coping better than i actually am. but you’re not alone in this, nonnie, i feel just as hollowed out and overwhelmed and it’s all so so suffocating, but reminding myself that it’s okay to feel like that has really been the main thing that’s kept me going.

much love to you, i deeply deeply understand how difficult this is. please, be kind to yourself. i’ll be here with my silly words every step of the way

#❤️#talking #anon

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idjaa · 2 years

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this blog still gets a surprising amount of traffic. you might notice i never post on here anymore, and that’s because i’m doing great. i used this tumblr to express my feelings at the loneliest and lowest times in my life and it served its purpose, but its time is over. i hope this message can find some purpose for you.

they say “it gets better” and it sounds like a load of shit. i thought so, back when i was in that really dark place. i have half a dozen posts where i blatantly say so.

it’s odd how my entire mental deterioration and multiple near-death experiences are just documented and preserved for you all to see. i don’t relate to most of those things now and it’s horrifying to see them and to know that i felt that way. yet i’m keeping it all up, and maybe in this sad internet neo-archeology we can unpack the story of while things can be so so terrible, they also do get better. i am proof.

i don’t even think of that time as the same version of myself. i feel like i was reborn, or maybe i came alive for the first time, and had to learn everything anew. i felt like i had to meet a lot of people for the first time again and i was able to realize how many people cared about me. (meeting your friends again means being able to relearn all the things you love about them, which is a plus.) i had to learn what i loved to do, and boy do i love to do things. i’m doing my hobbies again. i love having hobbies! i love feeling accomplished after a day of writing my book or running or taking photos or being with people that i love. there is no greater joy than going to sleep with a smile on my face.

i’m afraid of dying again. i’m making plans for my future again. i’m looking forward to growing old and wrinkly and wise and having so many fond memories to reflect on. at the same time, i am so happy to be alive right now as myself at this age and to be able to make those memories. for the first time in a very long time- maybe even the first time ever- i am living and not just surviving. i am alive and it is all so beautiful. the joy of simply living for all of these sunny days is almost worth the years of isolation and struggle. almost.

i’m sure that i might be over-romanticizing this all a little bit. what is fresh and new and lovey to me might just be what regular, average life is like. but if that’s the case, i can’t be over-romanticizing after all because i think that human life is the most lovely thing that could ever be. no amount of romanticization could ever do it justice.

everything isn’t rainbows and sunshine, though. there are bad days. there are bad weeks. i just got through having a miserable week. but they are so rare and they pass. days can be bad, but life overall is not. life is beautiful with all of its ups and downs and lefts and rights. i don’t think i could stand a life without bad days. the path winds in a million different ways but it still goes towards the same ending. when that ending comes, many decades from now, at least i can say that i know what it’s like to be alive.

and so should you. each day i spent alone and turning to this godforsaken website for help i was still being here and that was enough. being here and talking about how i was doing was enough. every action is it’s own small step towards where you will be in life, and i promise you that life is the most rewarding thing about living. i know that it’s hard to keep pressing on but just wanting to be here is enough. please talk to your friends or a counselor or anyone. one day your tumblr will be inactive and barren and you will smell the flowers and smile. and if you’re reading this, i love you.

#my posts #if tumblr user idjaa can find joy then so can you #positive words #positivethinking #vent meme #just putting that there to distract y’all sad people #depression memes #and no this is not a manic episode dw i thought so too #but I can confirm #sometimes life just does get better

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askcookierunsibs · 4 months

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im curious if you still remember this blog exists

hi anon! ive never forgotten this blog, i dont know if i will ever continue it though </3 admittedly ive lost interest in the au, and while it will always have a special place in my heart i dont know if ill ever continue this blog. maybe one day ill add my new favorite characters to the au since its so fun and free but im not sure ill share it

i would like to thank everyone who followed this blog though, i had a BLAST with this and everyone was really kind and supportive of my silly lil joke au (which i was very nervous to talk about at the time hxbfkfb). i got a lot of fanart that i wasnt expecting and it made me really happy to see that people enjoyed what was just meant to be a way to pass time. i apologize that it just kind of fizzled out and never got a proper ending ,, if anyone remembers this blogs early EARLY days with the white background and tiny images i may post those just to preserve them

if anyone has questions about the au ill be happy to clear things up !! and if you want to see what ive been doing recently, my main blog is @walnutcookie and ive been working on a new ask blog at @ask-wonderbread :] thank you for all the lovely memories !!!! its crazy to me that this blog is nearly 2 years old

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jfreedlinehis5944summerinternshi · 9 months

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Week 12 Final Blog Post

Hi everyone,

This week is my twelfth and final week working with Dr. French and the Hungerford Project. Interning with Dr. French this summer has shown me what I could do in Public History and its impact on the community. For this last post, I will reflect on what I did during these twelve weeks and how they helped me grow as a better historian and a better person for the future.

First, I want to thank Dr. French for allowing me to assist him in preserving the history and memory of the Hungerford School and the Eatonville community this semester. With this internship, I met with many people from the Eatonville community that share the same passion for preserving their history as I do. While I was not born into the Eatonville community, I worked as if my community history was at risk of being forgotten and erased. I am glad that I will continue this work with Dr. French over this Fall 2023 semester by setting up a History Harvest and working with Dr. French's class to expand on what it means to be a Digital History in this ever-changing world. I want to thank Ms. Boykins for having me tag along and talk to her about my internship throughout this semester. She provided me with a way to have face-to-face meetings and talks with the history keepers of the Eatonville Community. I am happy that my work is already making an impact by scanning only a fraction of the stories and memories that the people of Eatonville have in store. Hopefully, we can heal the community whose history was stripped away almost 70 years ago. I am thankful that I will still work with Ms. Boykins and the other local historians in the Eatonville community in future events where we plan to continue this movement.

Looking back on my internship, I can find things that I could have done better at like, at the beginning of the semester, I could have stayed more in touch with Dr. French and reaching to emails faster so that we could have got more done before the end of the semester. However, while there are many things that I could have done differently, I produced a product that the people of Eatonville are motivated about and happy about the progress that I have made this semester. I am learning how to use the DT Titian and scan documents faster so that Dr. French and I can give the people their records back as quickly as possible so that they would not be worried about losing their history and their story about their community.

Overall, thank everyone for making this semester and my internship one to remember. I can not believe how fast this semester went and the amount of knowledge and skills I developed throughout this semester with Dr. French. This internship can be a launch pad for others to join and have training with Dr. French and the other projects done this semester.

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imaginativeamateur · 3 years

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Hi! Congrats on 500 followers! I absolutely love your blog, and I'm so happy to see it grow and achieve new milestones!

I would love to make a visit to Ramen Ichiraku :)

Table 1, 1 bowl of Shoyu ramen with Chashu and Wonton, with some Green Tea, please!

Arigatou gozaimasu!

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] Let the Rain Kiss You

|500 Followers Event|

Order: Table 1: Shoyu Ramen with Chashu and Wonton, Green tea

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x fem!Reader

Note: Hey!! Thanks for placing an order! This one is a bit different from the style that I've been writing in, I wanted to try something different :D So definitely let me know what you think! Without further ado, please enjoy your ramen!

Mid-summer rains were for flowers to bathe their shying petals in serenity.

Mid-summer rains were for memories to drop by and once again relive…

You were having an uneventful day at the bookstore where you were landing a part-time job at. It was summer and dewy raindrops pounded at the front steps melodically. Your bookstore was located in the outskirts of the village, quite far from where the downtown hustle was, making it even more solemn on days like this. The sky started to pour at four and it was six by then with customers so few that you could recall which sections they stopped by without hesitation.

One more hour until closing time and you found yourself bending languidly across the desk, eyes gazing over the green grass just outside the glass window. The ticking of the clock and dulcet songs playing in the background brought reminiscence to you as you watched the clear droplets hitting the leaves then gliding smoothly against the flourishing surface. You remembered the first time you came here and immediately fell in love with the tranquility the place possessed, from the wooden shelves packed with paperbacks to the windows that would glow misty every time it rained—it was relict yet refreshing in a mesmerizing way.

Your thoughts were disconnected when faint footsteps approached the entrance. A silver-haired man calmly shrugged off his drenched flak jacket and got inside the store. The droplets of water fell from the tip of his hair and trailed the outline of his sharp jaw. One of his eyes was covered with a forehead protector—the Konohagakure symbol shining brighter with a layer of water atop. Though you were unfamiliar with Konoha’s Shinobi and never went outside of your village for the entirety of your lifetime, you were able to detect a powerful aura emanating from the man.

You stood up from your seat abruptly to welcome the newly arrived customer with a bright smile, “Hello, how may I help you?”

He scanned the whole storey and put his hands into his pant pockets, seeming dejected. “I don’t think what I need to find is here.”

“May I know what books you're looking for?”

He thought for a moment and looked around once again before clearing his throat, “… Some poetry would be fine.”

You were puzzled. Your store was full of poetic compositions, from hundred-year-old ones to the most recently published ones, but he just said what he was finding was not here. Albeit confused, you made your way around the desk and walked closer to him. Only then did you realize that he was dripping wet.

You wearily offered, “I think it’s best if you can come in and dry yourself a little.”

He nodded and smiled humbly, “That’s very kind of you.”

-----

In fact, Kakashi was on a journey for his mission when it rained and he could not find a roof to seek asylum—none besides a lone storey that stood out at the border of the forest, not too far from the center, but distant enough to preserve its own peace and quiet. When he came closer, his hope faltered when the place turned out to be a bookstore, not an inn. But the girl was benign enough to offer him some hospitality. Though he noticed that she was cautious of him, she still guided him through the hall and into a larger room, surrounded by old bookcases with a mystic scent of forgotten beauty.

“Please wait here if you don’t mind,” she whispered, “I’ll go get you a towel.”

Kakashi settled himself on a bench, resting his head against the side of one of the shelves when she stepped out of the room. He could see the last weakling rays of the day shining through the glass windows, casting a warming yellow tone on the ancient volumes neatly placed on the bookcases, pleasant to the eyes. His thoughts slipped at the slight cracks of her footsteps approaching and the gust of wind that billowed into the room once she opened the door.

She carefully handed him a plain white towel, her gaze never left the floor in the process. The space was accommodated with comfortable silence and the rhythmic raindrops being the only sounds making their way through the little creak of the partially agape glass panes. Kakashi dried his damped hair with the towel, inhaling the subtly sweetness from the soft fabric, the furrow of his brows unconsciously loosened themselves.

The last exquisite glimmers finally dimmed, leaving the warm lamplight draping the room with pleasant hues of amber. She had long disappeared behind the shelves, swiftly strolling along rows of different compositions, looking for what he—an unexpected, special customer—asked for. Kakashi did not notice the moment his visible eye started trailing her petite figure across the room, following her lithe steps as she turned side to side in her search. He could not help but wonder the peculiar thoughts that quickly entrenched his mind—Kakashi suddenly felt oddly sedate.

-----

You came back with five books of different thicknesses and covers in your arms, sweats glimmering on your forehead from the quite strenuous expedition. You placed the books down one by one while explaining with faint pride, “I didn’t know what you like specifically, so I picked out five different styles for you to choose.”

You looked up with glinting orbs but your face immediately flushed a deep shade of pink when you saw his still slightly wet top glued to his defined frame, outlining the muscles underneath the thin layer of black fabric. Your eyes drifted outside the large window, pretending to admire the night rain, clearing your throat in embarrassment. He seemed to have noticed your flustered state, a low chuckle vibrated in his chest as he leaned forward to draw in one of your picks. The sudden closure of the distance between your body and his made you flinch, instantaneously stepping back, and missing your footing carelessly.

His hand flung out of instinct, grasping tightly around your wrist, pulling you back from landing on the hard wooden floor. Yet, with the strong force that he was used to exerting in his training, your dainty figure was forced into his bosom in a mere second, too fast for you to register everything. When you finally realized that your palms flattened themselves against his broad chest to cushion the impact and the beating of his heart was right under them, you gasped in surprise.

-----

Kakashi peered down at her with his only visible eye, sophisticated gaze scanning her body for any injuries. Seeing that she was still staring at him in shock, her hands right on his chest, he felt another surge of warmth flowing through his heart, leaving his mind in a daze. Kakashi gave her an assuring grin, and she snapped back into reality, hastily standing up from his lap, looking at him timidly as she scooted farther away. He felt empty when she escaped from his embrace. The cold air surrounded Kakashi almost instantly after she got up made him a tad unsatisfied.

He reached forward again for the leather-cover book, flipping through the first few pages with elegance. She stood there and watched silently, not daring to make a single noise. Though his eye was fixed on the pages, his focus was on the figure standing at the other side of the table that was rubbing her hands together out of nervousness.

“I like this one,” he blurted, trying to assuage the invisible tension.

Her eyes lit up and the familiar smile returned to her lips, making Kakashi smile too.

“This one is an old publication,” she explained as she led him back, “I remember seeing this one around when I was four or five.”

He took the paperback with one hand, the other grabbing the green flak jacket hanging from the hook, “It’s probably a great one for sure.”

Kakashi left when the rain stopped, with poetry in his hand and her smile in his heart. When he was finally able to find an inn and settled in for the night, he held the book once again in his hands, smoothing the cover with adoration. The title graced in silvery read, “Let the Rain Kiss You.”

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Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @thenightfallingstar @animepickle7 @simping-master-69 @tirzamisu @rinnegankakashi @the-tiniest-one @greenshirtimagines @theacevampire

#kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi hatake x you #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi imagines #kakashi hatake x y/n #hatake kakashi x reader #hatake kakashi x you #hashirama x reader #kakashi hatake #kakashi hatake imagine #kakashi hakate #hatake kakashi

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random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Kiss of Death (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: If the Angel of Death came upon you but you had half an hour, what would you do?

BGM: Ateez “Inception” slowed + reverb

Word count: 1,639

Warnings: Character death and preparation

Tags: @rintomoj @yuki-osaki @yamichxn @lonelyfangirl453 @cyanide9602 @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Really proud of this one, I really like it and I hope you guys do too.

The figure looms over you, its shadowy silhouette casting the room in darkness against the moonlight streaming through your window. At first, you figured it was a thief or murderer breaking in; anyone else would have concluded the same judging from the dark clothes and intimidating demeanor.

That is, until you realize the massive shadow blocking out all the light is due to a pair of overarching, feathery wings.

Your mouth can't help gaping open as you jolt up in bed. There's a supernatural creature visiting you at what you assume is an ungodly hour of the night. The thick grey wings retract into their back, allowing you view of their entire physique as the moonlight rushes back into your room, no longer restricted.

The figure appears human, their white cloak's hood settles over squared shoulders and hips of roughly the same width. Their hair cropped short and the rest of their features remain androgynous. You should be scared of the intruder, but something about their serene expression and inexplicably calm aura dispels any tension in the room.

"My child, forgive me for disturbing you," their airy voice is just as serene as their appearance, a gentle fingers barely ghosting your cheek, "But I'm afraid your time has come."

Your eyes widen. "M-My time? As in..."

They nod slowly, the hand cool hand trailing down to gingerly take your hand. "It is sudden, but to compensate, you are allowed half an hour to do as you please."

It's expected that being told you're going to die would send cold down your spine and threaten your entire being, your body shivering as your mind tries to comprehend what exactly it means to cease to exist. While it does happen, you're calm and collected, smiling at the messenger. "I'm thankful for the warning. At least I won't have to leave without preparations."

Your mind is surprisingly rational in the face of an earth-shattering reality, you're unsure if it's because of the influence of the angel or your complete blind acceptance of fate - you hope it's the latter.

You begin your preparations. The first thing you do is gather as many letters and envelopes as you have in your room. Each one is addressed to those dear to you: to your closest friend and loving family members. Pouring your most genuine feelings out into each of these makes your only slightly regretful that you might not have showered them with enough love in your life this far, but at this point you can only hope your affections shine through in your last moments, and that the thought of you writing your last words to them in your dying breaths will hold more weight.

Next, you pull out your bank card and all the money you have stashed in an extraneous corner of your sweater drawer. Dividing it into two even piles; one goes into the envelope for your parents and the other for your closest friend. In the envelope for your parents, you also include your bank card and the PIN, along with the trust that they'll know how to divide the money in the bank - though you very strongly suggest the idea of them taking much needed vacation for themselves. To your friend, you also include a list of all your social media and email accounts connected to friends you can only talk to and not meet face to face, mandate that they split this money between the other friends who need it most, that you trust their judgment, and also to spare some for themselves.

Finishing all the writing, the weight on your shoulders slowly lifts, as if releasing all your affections on paper is a much needed therapy. You try not to think of the possibility that it might just be your soul slowly disconnecting from your body.

"What will they think I died from?" you ask curiously, placing the envelopes face up on your desk.

The angel - who has been patiently watching your tranquil planning from afar - blinks. "They will think you simply died in your sleep.

"I see."

The only remaining preparation in your home was to leave your apartment key under the mat in front of your door. You send a text to that same closest friend to come by in the morning to help clean, and if you didn't answer the door to use the spare key under the mat.

All of this took up a 25 minutes of your remaining time. However, there is one more person you couldn't stop thinking about as your time of expiration looms closer and closer. You turn to your companion. "Would you mind teleporting me somewhere? There's one last person I need to see."

Three raps on the balcony door was all it took for you to see movement in the bedroom. The lump rolls over, a head peaks out from under the blanket, first checking the time then lifting up to face the window. Bicolored hair is illuminated as the figure slowly retreats from the bed, clad in nothing but dark sweatpants.

Your heart pounds and your stomach churns, the normal reaction that he elicits out of you whenever you're near him.

The boy rubs his eyes and blinks the sleep away, focusing on your waiting figure. He opens the balcony door full of confusion. "(Y/n)? Why are you here? It's 3 am." His voice is as gravelly as you've only imagined hearing it being, thought you usually picture him greeting you in the morning after sleeping next to him.

Anticipation wells up inside you. Up to this point, you had no problem spilling your deepest thoughts to your loved ones, but something about him had always made you think twice before showing any sort of affection. Call it a force of habit, but you've never wanted him to know about your crush on him since you wanted to preserve your friendship and keep your relationship from becoming awkward around your mutual friends.

But you have nothing to lose at this point; might as well cross this final what-if off your list in your last few minutes. "I know it's late, Todoroki, but I have to tell you something It can't wait until morning."

He sighs heavily and leans against the door frame. "I'm listening."

You use the ever-lightening weight you feel unraveling within you as strength to call upon. "I have feelings for you."

The boy's expression doesn't change after you've ripped the bandage off, his stoic expression still in tact.

You can't help but let out a puff of laughter. "You're the only person I've met who I can confidently say I've imagined waking up next to. I always thought we would've been compatible as a couple, we would've been happy together. Your calm nature, your quiet power and charisma, your heart, I did fall for all of it. And... I didn't want to leave without finally saying this to you."

This is your first confession. Every other crush you had, you let pass you by without so much as a word or hint. But now, you've run out of time to hide it. In a way, you're grateful for the pressure to finally overcome your fear of rejection, but only regretful that it came under these circumstances. If he rejects you now, it doesn't matter.

But Todoroki's response was unreadable, the only display of feeling being his slightly widened eyes.

Your face gets hot and you laugh to cover it up. "Yeah, I came at 3 am to confess to you, I'm sorry." Your eyes flicker to the clock on his bedside table, the time telling you that you have barely two minutes to wrap this up. Behind you, the angel makes its presence known by gingerly touching their hand to your shoulder. "I need to be going now."

You're about to leave the balcony when another stroke of bravery crosses your mind. Squarely facing him, you grip his neck and tug him closer until your lips meet gently as you've dreamed of on many occasions, though the burst of electricity that erupts between you two is indescribably better than what you've imagined.

Todoroki's hand reaches to meet your wrist just as you pull back to rest your forehead against his. You want to laugh; such a blissful feeling was waiting for you this entire time where you could've had endless kisses like these, but you have to be satisfied with just the one as it's the only one you're getting. You almost forgot that you have to part ways with him forever now. Still, it's a perfect way to die, you think in bittersweet parting sorrow.

You step away from him for his tether on your arm to keep you still. He finally exhibits emotion: desperation and hunger for another one, mixed with fear as he acknowledges there must be something amiss. "Don't go," he pleads, as if this is the last time he sees you. Little did he know it would be.

You give him one last smile. "Goodnight, Todoroki. Thank you." Your body is feather light now, your time whittling away to the final seconds. Without a second thought, you let go and fling yourself off the balcony.

In the blink of an eye, you're back in your familiar room, laying in your bed. The conflicting sensation of a heavy body but weightless inside overtakes you, and you know it's time. The lingering aftermath of your final kiss still on your lips, you smile to yourself. If your soul can remember memories, you hope this feeling remains permanently engraved in them. "I'm ready to go." Your eyes flutter closed and you breathe out, your terminal exhale coming with the tingle of a thin thread gently unraveling its last fibers.

A faraway caress is your final feeling.

"Rest now, my child."

Part 2

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki angst #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #gender neutral reader #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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okayto · 4 years

Text

Murderbot Reference: Character Descriptions Part 1

So, characters and things in Murderbot stories don’t get a lot of physical description, which is very cool, but out of curiosity I went through all 5 books and tried to note every time a character gets a description (body or clothing).

I also ended up making some non-visual notes, such as the names of Mensah’s marital partners and Amena’s age. Basically, the things I’d want to remember about a character if I was writing or drawing them. Therefore, beware of spoilers.

This got long so it’s under a cut, and I’ve split it into 3 posts. This post contains:

Mensah

Gurathin

Pin-Lee

Ratthi

Arada

Overse, Bharadwaj, Volescu

Wilken and Gerth

Miki & Human-Form Bots

Don Abene

Combat Bot

Amena

Thiago

Other posts: Part 2; Part 3

Mensah

· “She had dark brown skin and lighter brown hair cut very short and I’m guessing she wasn’t young or she wouldn’t be in charge.”

· Looks tired and sleep-deprived during pre-abduction interviews; more creases at corner of eyes after rescue

· Clothing: During rescue, wears a long caftan over pants (long enough to hold it up while running), “looked more rumpled and creased than they should, but not enough to draw attention.” One shoe falls off during run, she can toe out of the other one.

· Very good at controlling herself, can look physically relaxed during all this.

· Height: comes up to about MB’s shoulder. MB has to “look down” to meet her eyes directly.

· Feed interface is implanted as a fail-safe for emergencies, but is not augmented.

· One child “looked like a miniature version of Mensah;” family has 7 children total

· Two marital partners: Farai and Tano. Farai uses she/her and seems comfortable with Murderbot.

· Has at least one brother (who married Thiago), see next point

· Lives outside the capital city with two marital partners, plus her sister and brother and their three marital partners, “and a bunch of relatives and kids who Ratthi had lost count of”

· Is “second mother” in family

Gurathin

· Has “a small, quiet smile, and they all [PreservationAux survey members] seemed to like him.”

· Augmented human, specifically gives him some information storage (similar to MB), internal augment. Carries a specialized toolkit.

· Shorter than MB, who puts its arm on his shoulder to run after injury.

Pin-Lee

· During Exit Strategy when meeting MB, is wearing a jacket and carrying the key for Mensah’s implant.

· Wears feed interface in ear

· Take medication (unspecified, but had it with her during ES)

· Has past experience in habitat and shelter construction

Ratthi

· At end of ASR, is there to meet MB when it comes out of cubicle after Mensah purchases it. “He was wearing regular civilian station clothes, but with the soft gray jacket with the PreservationAux survey logo.”

· Shorter than MB, who puts its arm on his shoulder to run after injury.

· Carries a lucky spare interface

· Is a biologist

· No physical description (besides being shorter than MB), but according to Word of God on her Dreamwidth blog (no links or Tumblr will hide this post from the tags): “Ratthi is super hot. We're talking Sendhil Ramamurthy levels of hot.”

· The closest physical description in text we get is being used as a comparison: “Iris was small, shorter and slimmer than Ratthi, not much bigger than Amena.“

· Doesn’t seem to have a partner, but according to MB, has a lot of relationships with all genders of humans and augmented humans, and he and they all seemed very happy about it.

Arada

· “Arada has a lot of expressions, even for a human.”

· Short hair (singed in NE after whatever happened in the wormhole)

· Has light gold-brown skin “and you could really tell all the blood had drained out of her face” when frightened.

Overse, Bharadwaj & Volescu

· Overse uses she/her, Arada’s marital partner. Is certified as a field medic

· Bharadwaj uses she/her

· Volescu uses he/him; in a 4-way marriage

Wilken and Gerth

· Both she/her. Both augmented humans, carrying traveling packs and a couple cases MB recognizes as combat gear, including armor and weapons

· Have worked for GrayCris before, know enough about it to keep blackmail material on hand

· “From the shapes, the cases held weapons, ammo, and a couple of high-end sets of self-adjusting armor, the kind I’d only seen in the media.”

· Armor has energy weapons built into forearms. Faceplate and helmet. With no comm or feed, can hear but voices sound like they’re farther away. When armor powers down, automatically opens vents to allow air circulation so person doesn’t suffocate or get heat exhaustion.

Miki/Human-Form Bots

· No cloned human tissue, just a bare metal bot-body that can pick up heavy things (but not as good as specialized hauler or other cargo bot, according to MB). Big, globe-like eyes. Eyes are dark and opaque surface. Can extend a secondary clamp from chest and used to hold emergency kit while using its hand to treat MB.

· Cameras and sensory inputs are in head; its processor, memory and other things that make it Miki are in the chest/torso

· Strong enough to pin Wilken’s wrist to wall and stand firm while Wilken pushes.

· Human-form bots often used to portray “evil rogue SecUnits who menaced the main characters” in entertainment media, so humans who had never worked with SecUnits expected them to look like human-form bots, not SUs.

· Not popular in corporation territory (according to MB) because they’re more general-purpose and not as good at specific tasks as dedicated bots, and “with the feed available their data storage and processing ability isn’t that exciting.”

Don Abene

· Warm brown skin lined at the corners of mouth and eyes, long dark hair has strands of white. MB can’t guess age.

· Hair is loose after helmet taken off, long enough to need brushing away to check neck, and Wilken grabbed it.

· After helmet removed during fight, has a mark on neck where helmet rim pressed in.

Combat Bot (not Combat SecUnit)

· (Combat SecUnit note: they probably don’t look super different from regular SecUnits, at least if you’re not super close, because MB didn’t realize one SU in the Exit Strategy dock fight was a Combat SU until it was able to counter MB’s hacks; MB didn’t recognize it as a CSU on sight)

· Anyway: combat bots, separate things from CSUs

· Combat bots are close in shape to human-form bot, but 3 meters (~10 feet) tall, has multiple weapon ports in chest and back, four arms with multiple hand mods for cutting, slicing, delivering energy bursts, etc.

· Faster, stronger, and more heavily armed than a SecUnit, and a “not very endearing personality” according to MB.

· Camera and scanners in head, processing and memory in lower abdomen for protection

· Can deliver pulse through skin to cause SecUnit pain sensors to max out, and another pulse meant to fry SecUnit armor and explosive weapons.

· Grabbed SecUnit by head and shoulder with one hand; MB feels “shift in the metal that mean something sharp was about to come out of its hand.”

Amena

· Shorter than MB (“stares up” at it)

· Smaller than Iris [see part 2 for Iris] and Ratthi

· Has to tie hair up in order to put on EVAC suit

· Just under Preservation’s legal adult age

· Oldest of the family’s 7 children

Thiago

· Mensah’s brother-in-law, married to Mensah’s brother; Amena’s uncle

· Brown skin

#Murderbot #Murderbot Diaries #Network Effect #Martha Wells #Reference

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yoongsisbae · 3 years

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Content Tag Game

thank you @inkofyoongi for the tag and also bless you for the Poetica teaser I'm crying already!!! Yoongi and y/n kissing oh my heart.

1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)? Harry Potter and Attack on Titan

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for? BTS

3. how long have you been writing? Writing online, I wrote HP ff when I was a preteen. Oh god it was horrible, it was a lot of silly meme worthy stuff, but that was half the fun in the HP fandom back in the day, then years later I tried to write one AOT ff and it did not do well lol, I think I maybe got two comments one of them being really mean lol and I gave up and left my story unfinished and moved on from ff (funnily enough I based a scene in one of my HOAL chapters off of it and no complaints so ha!...lol.) Then a friend bought me a dream journal, and I fell back in love with writing again after HOAL 🥰

4. on which platforms do you post your stories? I have a Wattpad and I just created an Ao3 to crosspost.

5. what is your favourite genre to write? Angst, I guess I am just a masochist.

6. are you a pantser or a planner? Well I am definitely not a planner, so I guess I'm a pantser lol. I rather just write the story instead of planning. I vaguely know the endings, the problem is most of my stories start out as dreams, and what usually happens in dreams??? That's right, you wake up BEFORE the ending. So then I have the arduous task of figuring out what else is supposed to happen lol, I feel like if I just write it out it will somehow magically come together in the end, planning is unnecessary stress I don't need lol.

7. one shot or multi-chapter? You know I really admire one shot writers, but I am just not built like that...

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion? I would say as a writer and what I also prefer reading, between 6k and 10k is the sweet spot.

9. what is your longest published story? is it complete? Handshakes of a Lifetime is almost at 55k words 👀 and I would say it's half way done?

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most? I really love writing HOAL, some of the chapters were very therapeutic to write 🥲. During the beginning chapters I was going through a lot of chronic pain and there were long stretches where I was so engrossed I forgot about the pain which if you've ever suffered from chronic illness, is like finding a raft in the middle of the ocean. But also Run Run Run made me hysterically laugh for hours (the visuals in my head are something else man), I already know I am going to have so much fun finishing that story.

11. favourite request you’ve written and why? I don’t take requests, however there have been times when I requested myself to write lol. Instead of word vomiting all over my blog and oversharing to you guys who probably do not want to listen to my ugly problems, I said, hey, why not just take all that pain and channel it into a story instead? Because that's why people follow me after all and I'm a woman of the people lol, and that's how Blue and Grey was written. It's short and simple, and it's one of my favorite stories I've ever written.

12. are there reocurring themes in your stories? Hmmm pain lol, whether it be pleasurable pain or not lol. Again, my stories start out as dreams, so they are pretty random. I do notice there's a lot of “escaping”, that might just be a dream thing idk.

13. current number of wips? HOAL, C!HOC, RRR, BV:ITS, a cross over fandom story I am so excited for and will write before the year is up (I just somehow need to become a smarter writer before then), a cute theme story I want to release on Halloween, 6 angsty one shots for each member (Namjoon's is already written), and an unnamed invasion AU story that I hope will see the light of day, but I have so many questions as to what is going on and have to figure out those answers before I post it (also I don't know know if I should add another ongoing fic and do that to myself lol)

14. three things you have noticed about your own writing? I love cliff hangers, they are just so much fun, I truly can't help myself. I also can't help putting a hopeful spin on my writing, even when I think I shouldn't, the story would be more meaningful if I didn't, but I am a hopeless romantic so sue me. And even if my stories are very fantasy driven, I try to be as realistic as possible, especially during smut scenes, I need realism, I don't like writing unrealistic sex, so sorry if it’s not that fantastical sometimes, I try to make it up in story pacing 🥲🥲.

15. a quote you like from a published story. Chapter 4 of HOAL is full of sentences I am proud of lol. "...a storm so final in its answer, it must be controlled by the Grim Reaper himself." and "...rain droplets clash against the ocean, open like umbrellas, and the sea throws back tiny gems of water." I really tried to portray that calm before the storm feeling throughout the chapter.

16. a quote from an unpublished story. Here is a part of the unnamed story, "Namjoon never came back. You take out your phone, pull up Namjoon’s number. You don’t have a pen or pencil, and you’ve never been good at memorization. But this time you have to, you must remember the ten numbers as if your life depended on it, because you’re starting to feel like it might."

17. a space for you to say something to your readers. My dreams had been haunting me for awhile until I finally said, "okay, let me just try, I'll just try to and see if this whole writing thing will work for me." Sometimes you have thoughts that you just need to scream out into the world before they consume you and the fact that people are hearing me, and being moved in even the littlest of ways by my stories lifts the pressure off my shoulders just a bit every day. A lot of my stories are anonymous love letters to people in my life, memories I want to preserve and transform into stories people can enjoy, happy and painful, for better or for worse. So to my readers, thank you for enjoying my stories, for hearing me. ❤️

I tag: @cloudteawrites @bangtangalicious @smasmashin @alpacaparkaseok @deepdarkdelights @btsaudge @koosbabygrl and any other writer who wants to share! 💕

#your question 14 I am taking as confirmation of Yoongi being utterly in love with Poetica y/n 😭😭😭😭😭#ask game #tag game

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oculus-de-malus · 3 years

Note

URL CHALLENGE: You have to answer each question that spells out and corresponds to your blog’s url.

O - Oldest film that you enjoy?

C - Country you want to visit?

U - Unusual Phobia you have?

L - Lazy Day or a Busy Day?

U - Underwater or On Sands?

S - Scariest movie you like?

D - Deepest Wish written in ⭐️

E - Earth, Fire, Water or Air? Why?

M - Memory that brings you happiness?

A - Age you learned something difficult?

L - Loneliest moment of your life?

U - Unique talent(s)?

S - Song you can’t get enough of?

O - The oldest film that I enjoy is actually one of the oldest films, period. Georges Méliès Le Voyage dans la lune, which was made in 1902. It's an enchanting visual feast, with Méliès himelf being a true pioneer of cinema... his work was extensive, and he produced a multitude of films, a lot of which were centred around astronomy or religion, notably the devil. YouTube should have a lot of his work if anyone is inclined to seek it out on the back of this reply, and I really do urge you to do so...

C - Whilst I have travelled a fair bit, there is still so much that I still want to see... I've never been to Australia, or Canada, or Russia... I've never visited South America in its entirety either... I'd love to visit the Amazon rainforest... I've worked with charities that have helped protect and preserve it, and even though the heat and humidity would no doubt disagree with me, I would love to visit it one day...

U - Believe it or not, but I don't have any phobias! At least none that spring to mind... I used to be scared of the dark as a very young child, but quickly learned to embrace it as the beautiful, natural thing that it is, to the extent I now prefer it to the light...

L - It completely depends on the circumstances and the company... mood, the weather, how tired I am... all these factors play a part! If I'm with the right person and we're in the right mood, busy days are a great way to spend the time, exploring, and enjoying various activities... however, lounging out in bed with the right person all day and ordering takeaway can be so great too...

U - Being underwater is such a relaxing experience... I used to scuba dive quite a bit, and had some fantastic times exploring various parts of the Mediterranean coasts... however it's not generally something you can do for a long duration, so after a long dive, it's nice to lay out and relax for a bit on the sand... but that said, I'm not a sunbather... I tan, but if I'm on a beach, you'll likely find me walking, paddling, swimming in the sea, exploring rock pools, or being buried in the sand, rather than laying out on it...

S - Scariest movie I like is a tough one... films have never scared me as such, and I have always enjoyed horror as a genre, whether it be supernatural, psychological, slasher, monster or anything and everything inbetween... I do recall a film that affected me a bit when I was young though... Threads (1984)... it's a devastating portrayal of what would happen in the event of a nuclear bomb hitting a small UK town, told in a very matter-of-fact documentary style way... I've watched it since, and the impact it had on that first viewing is not negated much with repeat viewings... definitely not something to watch if feeling depressed...

D - When I was six, I wished hard to be an astronaut so that I could see the stars, haha...

E - In terms of astrology? Or as 'elements'? I don't put much stock in astrology... but I have an open mind and find the subject and its history interesting... a friend of mine was kind enough to do my astrological chart for me over Lockdown... more for her interest/noseyness than mine, but it was very interesting... both me and my girlfriend are fire signs in this regard, so I guess I'd better choose that... as elements, I love anything earth and water, as I love nature and often feel at peace near and in water, despite it essentially 'extinguishing' who I am, astrologically speaking...

M - A memory that brings me happiness... there are a few, so not easy to choose just one... one of more recent ones is last weekend, when I spent a special day with my girlfriend, ahead of her birthday...

A - I guess it depends what you mean by difficult! I learned to play the piano from a young age... it gave me the great ability to be able to read music, something you never forget... I also learned to ski when I was about 14... I also used to race dirt bikes in my late teens and took a rally driving course too... but I still probably cite piano as more difficult than these... probably because I was so young!

L - Wow, this one hits hard to talk about... it was earlier this year, when I'd come out of a very stressful, intense, all consuming relationship... on both sides... something that was no longer what it had been, despite us both still loving and having feelings for one another... once I had taken the decision to finally, and sadly, end it, I'd never felt so alone... I wasn't in a good place... luckily I had some people around me to support me and distract me enough to get through it... I honestly don't think I'd be here typing this now, if I hadn't...

U - Well, everyone is unique, but I doubt I have a talent that is! I can juggle, but that isn't really very unique... I'm a good multi-tasker, but that's also probably because I am an overthinker too... haha... I've unfortunately(?) been someone who has always been good at everything (academics, sports, hobbies) but has never excelled in anything... I was never a stand out performer in anything in particular, really...

S - At the moment I can't stop listening to :Wumpscut: - Hard to Bear... it got lodged in my brain when I was driving the other day, so I am forced by my brain to repeat it until it's been adequately satiated...

#ask #answered

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artemis-entreri · 4 years

Text

Fall

On the twenty-first of Eleint, Jarlaxle lays underneath a maple tree, looking up into its reddening leaves without a care in the world. The mercenary has many plans for the day, most of which involve enjoying the Autumn Equinox to the fullest. How he loves fall, loves all of the seasons, in fact, for such changes are not known in the Underdark. Yet autumn is perhaps his favorite, especially when it gloriously brings vibrant colors to the World Above.

He holds up a hand over his face, squinting against the orange-dappled glow of sun through the leaves as it paints his coal-black skin a rich mahogany. In that moment, his hand does not look as if it belongs to him, or to a drow at all. Jarlaxle whimsically imagines himself in the body of a human, a considerably tanned and swarthy human. Like one he spent many years traveling and adventuring beside.

It had been a similar day in autumn, though later in the season, with the wind carrying the first of winter’s chills. All the leaves then were a brilliant red, and had started to gather underneath the trees’ boughs. This didn’t stop the mercenary from enjoying himself however. It had taken him no time at all to clear a spot for lounging underneath nature’s splendor.

Just as he had fully settled into a relaxing recline, a withered leaf flew into his vision, pieces crumbling off as it slowly drifted toward his face. Jarlaxle batted the leaf away and turned to look with annoyance at his companion, who had been responsible for the unnatural animation of a long-dead leaf.

“So, have you become a botanical necromancer?” Jarlaxle asked the human looming over him snarkily.

“We should get going,” was his dour companions only reply.

Jarlaxle shaded his brow with one hand as he looked up at the man. The legendary assassin, Artemis Entreri, was outlined by the sun with an aura of gold. His normal dark complexion made into a deeper brown, heavily tanned from the time that they had spent underneath the rays of the past summer’s oppressive sun. With the light shining into his eyes, the drow couldn’t make out his companion’s features, but he knew that Entreri wore a disapproving scowl. Heaving a great sigh, Jarlaxle grumbled, “I don’t suppose I could persuade you to join me?”

“Not a chance,” Entreri deadpanned.

Sighing again, Jarlaxle slowly rose into a sitting position. Crossing his legs, he glanced up at the assassin and instructed, “Sit.”

Entreri shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Why?”

“Since you won’t lay down, then sit. Just do it. The sooner you do, the sooner we can be off.”

Entreri looked at Jarlaxle skeptically but sat down next to the mercenary.

Jarlaxle let a few moments of quiet linger. A gentle breeze teased at their cloaks and blew a few leaves over them. Entreri stoically brushed away the ones that landed on him. Jarlaxle moved as if he were going to do the same, but instead he tapped one of his buttons that decorated his various fabulous garments. Turning so that he put his body between the human and the view of his exposed container of holding, Jarlaxle pulled out a cake. It was a rather morbid-looking affair, frosted in dark chocolate and lacking any other decoration. However, the drow knew its quality, having ensured that the baker had made it from the finest-ground flour and packed it with fresh preserves of ripe seasonal fruits.

“What are you doing?” Entreri asked suspiciously, and Jarlaxle realized that he had his back turned to the assassin for longer than was natural to brush off a few leaves. With a grand flourish, he whipped about and held out the cake to his companion. “Happy Birthday Artemis!” he exclaimed.

The human stared at him incredulously. At first Entreri looked shocked and surprised, then he shook his head and allowed his usual scowl to reappear. “It’s not my birthday. Nor do I know when the thrice-damned day is.” Jarlaxle thought that he had detected a trace of sadness in his friend’s tone, but it could have just as easily been a trick of the light that suffused their comfortable seats.

“I know, my abbil, but you mentioned that you remember it being sometime before a season of rain. In Calimshan, the rainy season falls between winter and spring, which would mean that you were born in the autumn. Since you don’t remember the exact day, today is as good as any.” Jarlaxle beamed as he finished the explanation of his reasoning.

Entreri stared awhile at him in disbelief, with an expression that implied that the drow had clearly lost his mind. Abruptly, the assassin laughed mirthlessly. “It amazes me that you were as successful at what you did, when you have room in your head for such nonsense,” he commented dryly. Jarlaxle expected as much from his ever-sullen companion, so he didn’t pay the man much mind as he set the cake down between them and produced a knife, seemingly from nowhere. Entreri’s voice startled him, not because of its suddenness but rather from the barely discernible measure of genuine emotion it contained. “I see that you had it made to look dark and boring. Just the way that I like things.” Jarlaxle looked up to see a half-smile on his friend’s face.

The drow sighs as he closes his fingers into a fist and drops his hand beside him. That memory feels as though it was something that could have happened yesterday, his current surroundings so reminiscent of that time more than a normal human’s lifetime ago. Despite his knowledge of this, he is startled and momentarily confused as a withered brown leaf suddenly drifts into his vision, edges fraying off in its unnatural fall. In one fluid motion he snatches the leaf from the air and sits bolt upright, only to find himself looking into the bearded face of a grinning dwarf.

"Did I wake ye, sleeping beauty?”

Jarlaxle composes himself and chuckles. “Nay, I was simply lost in thought.”

Athrogate studies him closely for a few breaths before responding, “Lost in yer guilt again, ye mean?”

Jarlaxle snaps a warning glare at the dwarf before lifting himself to his feet and brushing off his clothes. Rather than replying, he summons his Nightmare steed and mounts it, then looks expectantly at his companion. “We’d best get moving, unless you want to miss the food, music and drinking. I personally have no desire to not eat my fill of apple pie.”

The black-haired dwarf summoned his demonic boar steed, hopped on and kicked it into motion even as he replied, “When there's drinkin ta be done and food to be ate, then no one 'ere has to wait fer Athrogate! BWAHAHAHAHA!”

With a hearty laugh himself, the drow mercenary spurs his horse to follow, but not before sparing a moment to gaze back wistfully at his spot beneath the tree branches. The hellish whinny of his Nightmare steed then drowns out all other sounds in the area, but not before Jarlaxle whispers to the wind, “Happy Birthday, Artemis.”

--------------------------------------------------------

[[ I realized that the first piece of fanfiction that I’d ever written, I’d never posted on this blog. Not by itself anyway, I remember posting it as a response to something, but I can’t find that anymore.

There are things here that I’d like to change for the sake of canonical accuracy to the Forgotten Realms, most notably how the concept of birthdays is handled differently in that universe (details in this post). Some of the speech patterns are also somewhat out of place for their world.

In the end, I decided not to change things, to let this serve as a point that I look back on to gauge how much has changed.

Miscellaneous notes: - Eleint is the ninth month in the Calendar of Harptos. - Artemis identifies his rough time of birth for the reader in the short story, “The Third Level”. ]]

#Artemis Entreri #Jarlaxle Baenre #Forgotten Realms #legend of drizzt #Jarlaxle #Entreri #Athrogate #ooc #fanfiction #birthday #Fall #Calendar of Harptos

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foramomentonly · 4 years

Text

In the Dark I Know That You Do

Summary: I have a headcanon that Alex slept with a photographer overseas and, as a result, some tiny art gallery in New York is displaying artfully erotic black and white photographs of him. He signed the release form when it dropped in his inbox because the pictures made him feel powerful and sexy, and he figures no one he knows will ever see them.

Then I thought: What if Michael sees them?

Author’s Note: I feel the need to say that this fic, and all my other fics, like my blog, is Maria-friendly. Just putting that out there.

Title is lyrics from "I Want You To Love Me" by Fiona Apple.

Read on AO3

Alex hears a soft, shuttering click and turns his head.

“This okay?” Josué asks, lowering the camera from his face and smiling softly. “You’re just—so fucking gorgeous, man.”

He’s squatting naked across the room, just returned from the studio’s tiny bathroom. His thighs are thick and meaty, the muscles corded as they support the weight of his body. The sight of them makes Alex burn, makes the vivid memory of him grinding down on Alex’s cock, riding him single-mindedly as Alex gripped those same thighs tight flood his senses. Alex feels weightless, somehow simultaneously above his body, and very much in it; he feels every scratch of the stiff sheets underneath him, every delicious ache from the evening’s activities, but they only serve to elevate this heightened feeling that Alex is good and right and glorious. Alex laughs, runs a teasing hand up the length of his own naked torso, his fingers catching in his dog tags.

“It’s okay,” he says, and Josué grins, raising his camera again, the lens re-focusing and the rapid-fire, fluttering click resuming.

Alex stares down the lens, willing the camera to stop time, to capture and hold him in this moment and this feeling forever and for real. He’s twenty years old; he’s free, he’s whole, and he’s alive within himself for maybe the second time in his godforsaken life, since the moment time failed to stop in the first place and Jesse Manes had crashed into the shed and into Alex’s sacred space, defiling it and him and the only thing that had ever felt right to him. The only person. Because time, unfortunately, doesn’t work like that.

Alex hears the soft buzz of his phone vibrate on the wooden table and looks down.

“Shit,” he breathes, picking up his phone and staring at the name and subject line next to the little e-mail icon: Josué Medina, Photo Release.

“Is something wrong?” Maria asks from across the table, and five pairs of inquisitive eyes focus in his direction.

They didn’t plan this gathering, but Michael, Isobel, Max, and Liz were having a drink when Alex wandered into the Pony, and it seemed rude not to sit with them. Traffic petered out as the night went on, and Maria eventually joined them, and before he knew it Alex is nursing his third beer at a reclaimed wood table with five people who’ve been in his personal orbit for so long that it never occurred to him they haven’t actually spent much time together as a group. It’s awkward.

“Who’s José Medina?” Isobel asks, leaning shamelessly into Alex’s shoulder to better read his phone screen. Max, sitting on her other side, pulls her back.

“Iz, personal privacy?” he chides.

“It’s Ho-sway,” Alex corrects, sounding the name out phonetically. “And he’s someone I knew—Jesus, seven years ago?”

“Oooh,” Isobel drawls, “so he’s an ex.”

“He’s not an ex. He was—”

“An itch?” she supplies, and Alex kind of hates her.

“Sure,” he says, rolling his eyes and pretending to miss the way Michael’s briefly flash with something unreadable when they cross gazes across the table.

“So, this is a booty call?” Liz asks, chin in her hands and eyelashes fluttering suggestively. “Is he passing through town and never quite got you out of his system?”

Alex forgives her much easier; her blood is basically tequila at this point in the night.

“Seven years ago,” Maria cuts in, redirecting the conversation kindly. “You were overseas at that point, right? First tour?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I was on leave in Italy. He was—well, is a photographer, from the looks of the e-mail, but at the time he was just a student. I don’t know why he’s sending me a release form.”

Alex scans the e-mail. It’s brief pleasantries and apologies for popping up unannounced in Alex’s inbox, all written with that easy, magnetic confidence that drew Alex in so many years ago. And then there’s the ask:

There’s a call for submissions for this arthouse photo book on queer military personnel as erotic subject. It’s not fetish; it’s art. It’s a tiny press and less than fifty people will ever see it, but it would be a big deal for me. I want to submit the photo attached and I need your consent. I know it’s intimate and I understand if you aren’t comfortable. But a guy can try, right? If it helps, it’s just for us, you know? It’s not going mainstream anytime soon.

Alex doesn’t understand half of what he’s reading; well, he’s unfortunately very familiar with the dark side of fetish since he lost part of a limb and gained a prosthesis. It’s the reason he’ll never re-activate his Grindr account. But the rest goes completely over his head, so he just taps the icon to open the attached image file.

It’s.

It’s intimate, all right.

Erotic, for sure, though the image stops short of full nudity.

And, before he can really fully process what he sees, it’s tugged out of his hand by Isobel’s bony fingers.

***

Michael is trying to focus on the conversation around him—on Maria, beautiful and loose by his side; on Max, reserved, but happy, flanked by his best girls; and decidedly not on Alex, staring at his phone with a dazed expression, lips parted softly and quirked in a barely-there smile. He shouldn’t care that Alex is receiving an email from a long-lost fling, or that he’s staring at said email as though transported. Michael is so fixed on not watching Alex out of the corner of his eye that he misses Isobel leaning over to pluck Alex’s phone out of his loose grip, and jumps at Alex’s cry of protest.

“Excuse me!” Alex says, turning towards her incredulously, but making no move to take his phone back.

“Damn, Alex,” Isobel whistles, tapping at his phone with two fingers to enlarge and then zoom in on the screen. “Save a horse, ride an Airman.”

Alex rolls his eyes, but there’s a proud, playful smirk pulling at his lips.

“Lemme see!” Liz cries, reaching across Max for the phone. Max looks back and forth between Liz’s grabby hands and Isobel sliding the phone her way, then shoots Alex a plaintive, deer-in-headlights look.

Alex shrugs.

“Isobel probably already forwarded it herself,” he says easily, and Isobel nods shamelessly.

Liz picks up the phone eagerly, mouth dropping open in an exaggerated grin, hand on her chest, faux-scandalized. Michael watches Max’s eyes dart over in curiosity, then quickly away again, back straightening and eyes fixed forward. He coughs gruffly.

Liz passes the phone across the table to Maria. Maria hesitates, looks questioningly at Alex.

“It really is fine,” he assures her, eyes sliding to meet Michael’s gaze next and raising a brow, almost in a challenge. Michael gazes over Maria’s shoulder and inhales sharply.

The image is in black and white, maybe so it will pass as high art rather than cheap erotica. Though Alex in the picture looks anything but cheap. He looks—He looks fucking sinful. He’s lying on his back on a small, messy pallet bed in what looks like a sparsely-furnished studio apartment, clearly post-coital. His hair is short and messy, soft tendrils sticking out at wild angles. He’s clearly naked, but his closer leg is bent at the knee, foot planted on the mattress, preserving some semblance of modesty. Michael notices with startling clarity a small bead of sweat caught mid-roll down the crease of his hip. One arm is thrown over his head languorously, the other resting on his chest, long fingers tangled in his dog tags. He’s thin, the outline of his ribs visible thanks to the stretch of his arm, but his body is toned and tight, the small swell of his bicep and the curve of his quad and calf muscles evident even at a distance. His head is turned towards the camera, dark, hooded eyes gazing directly down the lens, full lips quirked as though in acknowledgment of his audience.

It’s the expression that truly unsettles Michael. He knows that look. Intimately. Has spent hours and days and years, a whole lifetime coaxing that look onto Alex’s face with his hands, his mouth, his reverent touch, and all the other ways he’s pressed unspoken truths into Alex’s skin. Alex is at peace, lazy and comfortable and confident in his body, in its form and how he’s using it. This is an Alex blissfully alive and shameless in his own skin, absent the unrelenting control with which he holds himself back, the careful disassociation and denial of his own needs and desires. This is Alex basking in himself rather than swallowing himself whole. It’s intimate and sexy and, until now, Michael had thought only he had seen Alex like this. Only he had earned it.

Michael tears his eyes away from the screen, away from an Alex that’s no longer just his to focus on an Alex that isn’t his at all.

“So, this guy wants to display it or something?” Liz asks.

“Sort of,” Alex says. “There’s some kind of art book he wants to submit it to.”

“Would you get paid?” Maria asks, and Alex snorts, taking his phone back from her when she holds it out to him.

“I posed for it for free, so I think that window is closed.”

“So you knew he was taking it?” Michael asks abruptly, and Alex furrows his brow.

“Yeah,” he says slowly.

Michael is suddenly aware of several pairs of eyes on him, and he nods hastily and stammers, “Good. You know. That you weren’t—that you didn’t not know.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Isobel asks, examining her manicure. She seems bored with the conversation now that there’s nothing in front of her to ogle.

Alex takes a breath, looks down at his screen again.

“I’m gonna sign the form,” he breathes, and Liz actually claps in delight.

“You sure?” Michael can’t stop himself from asking, even as Maria kicks him with the heel of her boot under the table. “Doesn’t seem like something you’d be into, is all.”

Alex narrows his eyes and quirks his lips teasingly, but there’s a bite in the tone of his voice when he asks, “You trying to slut-shame me, Guerin?”

“Never,” he drawls in return.

Their eyes lock and their smiles slowly fade.

“I would never,” Michael adds, softer and more sincere. Alex nods once, looks away.

“It’s a gorgeous photograph, Alex,” Maria says, smiling warmly at him. “If you want to share it with the world, I say go for it.”

“And I say let’s go for another round,” Isobel declares, holding up her empty glass, officially over it. “Michael, I believe this one is yours?”

“It’s mine, actually,” Alex says easily, effectively ending the conversation. He grips the table for support as he slides out of his chair and stands, pocketing his phone as he goes. “I’ll be right back.”

***

They’re saying hasty good-byes in the parking lot, Liz and Isobel piling into Max’s car, Max extremely sober behind the wheel. Maria heads back inside to help her staff close up, and Michael stands quietly with Alex, waiting on his rideshare.

“You seem pretty sober to me,” Michael comments, pulling his jacket tighter around his torso.

“I’m tired,” Alex admits, “and my leg is bothering me. It’s just easier for tonight. I’ll pick up my car tomorrow.”

He glances sideways at Michael.

“You don’t have to stand out here with me,” he says. “Go inside and help Maria.”

“Why’re you releasing that picture?” Michael blurts, not realizing the words he’s speaking until they’re out there, irretrievable, and Alex turns slowly to consider him.

“I liked remembering how I felt when Josué took it. I felt free,” he says quietly, and Michael is shocked he’s even deigning to answer. “I was far away from Roswell and everyone in it. I felt strong, like I was in control for once. Maybe if the photo’s out there, that feeling won’t seem so far away.” He smiles mischievously. “And, I mean, I looked good. Hadn’t been too long since basic.”

Michael catches his gaze, holds it.

“Did I make you feel free?”

Alex’s smile is small, but genuine.

“You used to,” he breathes. “For awhile you were the only thing that made me feel that way.”

Michael feels his whole body release, as though he’d been holding in a breath, clenching every single muscle unconsciously. Alex shakes his head.

“What?”

“That’s too much pressure,” he says. “No one person can be everything good for someone else.”

Michael looks down and kicks at the dust and grime of the parking lot with his boot, and thinks of Maria.

“I told you I couldn’t be your medicine,” Alex continues, “but I think I was doing the same thing to you. Maybe that’s why I reacted they way I did when you started acting out.”

They let his confession hang in the air between them before Michael, now in possession of a one-track mind apparently, speaks.

“So you aren’t worried someone you know is gonna see it?” Michael asks softly.

Alex shakes his head.

“That’s why it feels safe,” he says. “New York, the 'art scene.' That’s a whole nother world.”

Michael nods, stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

“So, what if someone wanted to see it?”

Alex looks at him blankly.

“What if I wanted to buy a copy?” Michael explains. “I mean, you’re right. You were in spectacular shape back then.”

Alex bursts out laughing.

“Not like now,” Michael goes on, grinning as Alex’s shoulders shake. “You really let yourself go, private.”

The silence between them as their laughter dies is the most comfortable of the night.

“I’m okay with that,” Alex murmurs as a car pulls into the lot and a notification pings on his phone. “Good luck tracking it down, though.”

“Alex?” the driver of the car asks, rolling her window down an inch.

“Yeah,” Alex says, and pulls the car door open.

“Night, Guerin.”

“Sweet dreams, Fabio.”

It takes Michael three months to find the book after Alex mentions that it's out and his photo made the cut, and it takes some intense eBay stalking at that, plus he's out $60—indie press, my ass, he thinks as he clicks purchase.

#rnm #rnm fic #malex #malex fic #alex manes #michael guerin #isobel evans #max evans #liz ortecho #maria deluca #maria-friendly #my fic #background miluca

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