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lets-try-some-writing · 3 months

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I know that you're super busy with class stuff, but (no rush) do you have anything else in that Ratchet snippet where he was stuck in a pocket dimension for many vorns being punished by Primus?

Its not a lot because Ratchet decided to go get milk for a few weeks, but here is what I have managed to write for this fic. I believe I may get a burst of inspiration and finish it soon.

Previous snippet here.

Time Locked: Snippet #2

When Ratchet woke, he was practically shaking. He paced around his garden frantically, his optics on the only real entrance to his prison. He marched around the borders of his garden, checking his crystals and tending to shoots that had grown out of place. He even dug up fresh earth for some of the new sprouts. Anything to keep his servos moving.

Then, by some miracle, Orion Pax returned to the garden just as the nearest star fully began its rise.

“Pax! It’s good to see you!” Ratchet’s servos shook, and despite the fact that he was covered in dirt from his anxiety driven gardening, he hurried forward to greet the archivist. Orion regarded him with a curious helm tilt before nodding. Only then did Ratchet notice that the Archivist had brought something with him.

“Likewise. I assume you have more questions, so I took the liberty of bringing a few items with me.” Orion stepped into the center of the clearing and unfolded a small table, the kind one would use to serve only one or two individuals. He clicked everything into place, locking the table into formation before putting down a box on top of it. Ratchet raised an optical ridge, but he was too excited to question further as he rested on his knees across the table from Orion.

“Based on your previous queries, I have come up with some explanations for you as well as these items of interest.” Orion placed down a datapad beside the box. That alone left Ratchet gawking. The thing was so thin and transportable. The datapads Ratchet used when he was free of his prison were bulky unwieldy things meant to be stored in huge archives just to ensure nothing was lost or broken.

“Here, take this. It is a collection of major historical events and changes across Cybertron.” Orion slid over the datapad and Ratchet was almost too afraid to touch it. Even when he was the CMO, he was forbidden to put a digit on the records the archives kept. He had to have an archivist grant him a copy or access to the documentation. To just be handed such valuable data-

He paused as he held the datapad. Orion didn’t know about Ratchet’s curse. The datapad would be all but useless when left exposed to the elements. Ratchet sighed as he enjoyed the clean and sleek look of the device. Modern technology… If this was a common item, how much had changed?

“I have also brought a selection of other devices to sate your curiosity.” Orion smiled in a cunning manner that had Ratchet instinctively clutching his new datapad against himself. However, the Archivist merely slid the box over, prompting Ratchet to glare at it in suspicion.

“Open it doctor. I promise you that no harm shall come to you.” Ratchet hesitated before he carefully put the datapad back down and reached for the box. He searched for the series of hooks he was used to when it came to packaging, but his search was short lived as the box opened with a series of clicks. The lid came undone, and within was some sort of scanner and what looked to be a communicator.

Looking up at Orion, the Archivist maintained his smile as he pulled the items out and laid them on the table.

“This is an identifier. I thought you might appreciate having the ability to know more about the flora which you cultivate.” Ratchet gawked at the device and its many glowing buttons. He never had anything nearly as high tech as this during his time as CMO. And it was a mere gardening tool? By the Allspark, he had missed a lot.

“And this is a communicator that you may use to contact me from now on if you so desire.” Orion held up the communicator as Ratchet placed the scanner with his new datapad. Ratchet glared at the device, feeling the mark on his spark flare in disagreement. He was not permitted outside communication, that much was clear.

“I can’t use that thing. It is forbidden.” Ratchet’s voice came out low as he leaned back, instinctually driven away from the thing before him. Orion’s helm tilted in curiosity, or perhaps confusion. Then, before Ratchet could react, Pax pressed the device into his servos.

“FRAG!” Ratchet screamed as he threw the communicator, watching as it fritzed and then exploded mere moments after he came into contact with it. He whipped around to glare at his companion, anger running hot in his processors.

“I TOLD you that it is forbidden! I can’t use those things!” He all but snarled. Orion for his part merely hummed and closed the box with a thoughtful expression.

“I see. I believe I may have begun to understand this situation.” Then without missing a beat, Orion turned on the datapad and passed it to Ratchet. The smile returned and Pax laid out his own datapad in turn.

“Since I am here, shall we discuss more of Cybertron’s history?” This mech was strange. Very strange. What mech found a random doctor in a garden in the middle of nowhere who acted as out of touch as Ratchet was and then decided to return for a second visit? Why was Orion so accommodating? Why was he here at all? Ratchet of course had no interest in complaining, but he could see an ulterior motive from a mile away. Pax wanted something, and Ratchet was unsure he could give whatever Orion was looking for.

Ratchet held his datapad and nodded distantly as Orion directed him toward a certain set of files. Ratchet obeyed and listened closely as Orion began to describe everything following the Quintessons wars. He nodded along in the beginning, having already learned a good portion of what was being told to him. He noted a few differences, small details and events that the Council had evidently seen fit to censor. In those instances he spoke up and Orion hastily made notes before continuing. But past a certain point, all Ratchet could do was listen with wide optics and look at the various pictures Orion showed him.

So much time had passed, so much had changed. And everything would continue to move on without him-

So long as he was trapped in his prison.

“After the failure of Project Regen, the High Council diverted their efforts and implemented more restrictions on the castes. Too much freedom resulted in the death of the CMO of the time, a Prime, and quite a few well known scientists.” Ratchet’s optics widened as he listened closely. Everything up until this point had been largely information that he had been distantly aware of during his functioning but had paid little attention to. This was new.

“Castes were made more regimented, but also not quite as obvious. Social procedures took the place of numerical designators to denote castes and function. Medical knowledge also increased by leaps and bounds after the disaster of Project Regen.” Pax spoke with a smooth voice that hinted at vorns of performing this very function for others. Ratchet wasn’t startled much by the supposed leap in medical understanding. That was to be expected. When he was CMO he was already quite well aware of the new studies being conducted.

No, what caught his attention was the change from numerical designation to social procedures regarding caste.

“Once you have finished catching me up on our history, I would like to learn about the castes and the new medical system.” Ratchet made his request as he looked over the pictures of shining cities he hardly recognized. The history was all well and good, but it was the change in culture that mattered to him more. One had to know history to be familiar with culture, and by becoming familiar with culture, he could finally figure out just how out of touch he was.

Once he was the finest doctor on Cybertron. Once, he had sat upon one of the highest pedestals capable of being reached by a mech of his station. Did his knowledge and skill mean anything anymore?

“Of course, although I do believe we will not have enough time this cycle to complete this discussion of history.” Orion looked up, and it was only then that Ratchet noticed the nearest star beginning to set. He scrambled to his pedes, taking his scanner and datapad and hurrying toward the techtite tree in the center of his garden. It wasn’t much, but it would at least partially guard his new gifts from the weather.

“What are you doing?” Pax questioned as Ratchet slid his gains into a small gap in the trunk of the tree.

“Keeping these things safe. I can’t take them with me, and I don’t want them destroyed.” Orion made a curious sound and Ratchet shook his dirtied servos covered in grime. He felt the beginnings of exhaustion starting to weigh on his frame as he turned and tried to smile.

“Thank you for coming to my garden again. It has… it has been a very long time since I have seen anyone at all.” Again, Pax looked at him curiously with those cycling optics of his. Ratchet momentarily feared he had scared his newfound conversational partner away, but that fear eased as Orion nodded. That seemed to be his preferred reaction to just about anything.

“Please, come back to my garden on this cycle next vorn. I would like to know more.” Ratchet did not bow, he refused to sink that low. But he did try to make his genuine desire for further interactions clear with his tone. He had to keep this acquaintanceship. He had to. He wasn’t sure he could remain sane after being given a small taste of normal interactions again.

“You are quite fortunate that I am an archivist. My function is to teach and to preserve knowledge. Based on our interactions, it seems aiding you fulfills both those criterias.” Pax turned away, leaving the table he brought with him and only taking his belongings. Ratchet watched on quizzically but did not comment as the Archivist left his garden.

Settling down against the trunk of his tree, Ratchet vented deeply. He did not think it was fair, but the fate he endured was a little less tormenting now that he had someone to talk to.

His digits brushed over the datapad in its hiding place as the light faded. His optics cycled slowly and his frame relaxed as weariness settled in. For once, it was a peaceful restfulness that overcame him. If Pax returned once, there was a good chance he would return again.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #ratchet #orion pax #alternate universe #transformers fanfic #fanfiction #writing wip #yeeeeeeeeah heres the snippet #its coming along #lots to write still #its going to be broken record level long at this rate

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lgbtlunaverse · 8 months

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Nothing will dispell the "the curtains were just blue" myth faster than writing something yourself, because the amount of pretentious symbolism i am putting in my silly little fanfics is ridiculous. I mean SO much with these words, literally every single one of them. This fic has twenty five typos and zero correct uses of punctuation but if there's curtains you bet your ass I put thought into what colour they were.

#writing #fic writing #like this is stuff i'm doing for fun with my perfectionism meter turned down as far as i can get it #and i am still thinking about it A LOT #talk to me about how in red string fic jgy perceives the memory block both as syrup and as mud but nmj thinks it feels like blood #it's just a thing in their heads that mentally feels kind of thick and sticky but they both made something different of it #it's about issues with cleanliness / lies as a way to craft an illusion of a better lopking world vs the constant violence nmj lives in

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wardingshout · 5 months

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Zelda goes mushroom girl

#tloz #a link to the past #zelda #link #my art #I was happy with that first one but for some reason decided it still needed a companion piece so I spent way too long on that second one...#I don't think there was any time during the progress where I was happy with it but hfduhdfu at least I got to Attempt drawing moss hell yea #I also at some point sat in Pyu's art stream and said I enjoy drawing legs As I was being murdered by the infamously impossibe (imo) squat.#it's ok I had fun !! but I need to learn how to let doodles be doodles or I'll never finish stuff at this rate dfsuhfd #if everything in my tloz tag looks like it was drawn by different people uuuh 2023 was art crisis year ngl......#I'm falling back into my old ways rn though #anyway I think about these two a lot I think they're both stone faced and awkward ppl in different ways but they try rly hard to be friends #like I like to think it starts out so incredibly awkward and a bit sad bc they keep stepping over each other's toes accidentally the harder #they try but idk they find comfy middle ground idk in my brain they have a very interesting friendship I wanna get around to drawing it #in a proper way that might make sense....#if I don't write 200 tags I will die maybe it's bc I grew up on dA or smth #and yes I know how to find 1 (one) type of mushroom /I/ am not mushroom girl unfortunately smh

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somnimagus · 6 months

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My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

#legend of zelda #loz #twilight princess #loz tp #i'm still reeling that someone sent me an ask about this one.. that they took the time to find my tumblr and tell me they liked it #it really meant a lot; thank you to anyone that stops to leave comments like that. they make me happy #but yeah! here's the usual symbolism ramble:#i thought it'd be cool to have the 'spirits' flowing one way and the cats walking through them the other way #to kinda show the difference in life inhabiting the village in the past and present #link's face is covered because impaz was just waiting for 'the hero' so his clothes are what matters; not his face #and it (hopefully) gives a surreal and intangible sense to 'the hero' she could only hope would actually show up #you can feel free to interpret the glowy blue sheikah as ghosts or just as memories of the past! i couldn't decide either way #the one on the bottom left is oot impa since she's implied to be the village founder. so i guess she would be a ghost actually?#fan art #my art #project stuff #and ahhh the book-- everyone's stuff is so beautiful!!#especially the writing. some of the fics made me really tear up and some were so fun and clever. i really love them #a lot of them captured the sheer burden of the role of the sheikah; all of the time and grief and doubt #i know i always say this stuff about every project but. the people i get to work with in these are truly so skilled every time

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tubbytarchia · 3 months

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Missed drawing these two too

Bonuses

#rendoc #still thinking about them a lot #always #hermitshipping #sorry for the weird empty area in the first one. It was my attempt to make it take up less of people's timelines #this art is so embarrassing lol but man I like when Doc's drawn as a big goat man I have no defense I plead the fifth #or well at least it becomes embarrassing when its. shippy #whatever Tumblr people are usually cool so here goes!!#I am 99% a fluff and hurt/comfort person. Idc how frisky these guys get in fanon all I can ever think of is fluff sorry #Also contemplated implementing Doc's accent into the dialogue but I am forever paranoid of offending someone lol #idk how to write accents etc but you guys will make it sound fine in your heads I'm sure #hermitblr #tubby art

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nibbelraz · 5 months

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A writer and His number one fan hater

#svsss #shen qingqiu #shang qinghua #platonic cumplane???#Shen Yuan #scum villian self saving system #scum villains self saving system #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #I actually have a lot of thoughts about them that i wasnt able to articulate right with words or drawings #i just think #That Shen Yuan really did like the story #like he was upset on behalf of a good character #he was upset about its potential #he absolutely wanted more for him and was upset that it was thrown away to please the masses #he had no idea what Shang Qinghua was going through #absolutely just ranked on him and YEAH IT WASNT THE BEST WORK BUT clearly it still was good enough to make Shen Yuan care #like ah #I would love to read more dynamics about them about a struggling writer and his most trusted hater to yell at him to write his heart out #also Shen Qingqiu going through svsss and seeing how much thought Shang Qinghua actually put into the story #and how much effort he actually had in it before he had to settle and scrap #like AAAAHH Im not the analysis type and my thoughts about them really are all other the place but really I think nothing is stronger then #an author and a reader #cause my man read to the very end the ABSOLUTE END #hE CARED HE CARED HE REALLY CARED NO MATTER HOWWWW MUCH HE CRIED ABOUT IT #alright dont look at me they make me go crazy #my art #nibbelraz

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jonnywaistcoat · 2 months

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When writing, did you ever suffer from a fear or underdelivering or misrepresenting a topic? If you did, how did you overcome it? I enjoy writing but rarely bring it to the public out of fear that I am either not doing good enough or badly portraying the themes or aspects of what I write.

Absolutely, and on the one hand it's a very healthy fear - it prompts you to do your research and be thoughtful in how you write. On the other hand you've just got to accept that occasionally it will happen. Inculturation is a hell of a thing, and leaves us all with a thousand kneejerk preconceptions and perceptions of the world, some benign and some downright awful. And sometimes they crop up no matter how thoughtful you try to be. And you gotta understand that when it happens and people call you on it, you just have to take your lumps and learn what you can from it.

It doesn't help, of course, that the words you write are only ever half of what your audience reads: five people reading the same book are reading five different books, each filtering the text through a lifetime of psychology and experience. And they will find themes and problems in there you never even considered, and they will also find resonances and beauty in your work that you could never have foreseen.

At the end of the day, writing stuff thats meaningful to you (hell, writing anything at all) is a messy, bruising business, and anybody who tells you there are simple solutions or clear rules to follow is either lying to you or to themselves.

But you can't let it paralyse you. Its like if you're playing football and you're worried about falling over. It's a reasonable fear and you should do your best to avoid it, but occasionally it's gonna happen, and unless you want to spend the whole game just standing still in a field, you've kinda just got to get on with it. Just try not to be one of those writers who's always taking dives and... screaming for the ref to get a free kick? Hm. That analogy may have gotten away from me. I don't actually know much about football.

Point is, I'm aware that this isn't the most reassuring writing advice I've ever given, but yeah, its a messy, scary business. Just do your best. Be thoughtful. Be kind. And always do your research.

#Sorry for the ramble #One if those things I've thought a lot about #And still don't have any simple answers #That writing I guess

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seiwas · 5 months

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grow on me like a dog loved fondly: prologue | kamo choso

wc: 1.0k

summary: your regular to the flower shop is more than what he seems.

contains: written with f!reader in mind but can be read as gn!, animal shelter employee choso x flower shop owner reader, implied that reader is shorter than choso, flowers, small talk.

a/n: the promised choso drabble! depending on how this is received, i intend for this to be the prologue to a longer choso fic i have in mind!

You have a regular on the weekends.

Business in the flower shop tends to be slow during winter, with less occasions having the need for flowers and even less buds blooming during the season.

But even with the expected decline in customers, Saturdays always guarantee one—

The bells attached to the store doors jingle, allowing in a gust of cool air that tickles your cheeks from where you’re crouched down. The peonies in your hands were delivered just yesterday, the ends of the stems needing a slight trim to keep them fresh for longer.

You turn, standing up to face your visitor. A purple scarf is wrapped high around his neck, with white fleece running down the length of his arms—a sort of undershirt to the short-sleeved uniform worn atop it. The outfit is familiar enough, but what truly distinguishes him are the two spiky pigtails on the sides of his head.

There are a few things you’ve managed to pick up from four-line exchanges with your regular (six if you’re lucky): 1) he works at the animal shelter a few streets away, 2) the flowers he buys are for the front desk, a weekly replacement he deems necessary to keep the place looking alive, and 3) who he is, his name—

—‘Choso’, if the tag on his uniform says anything.

The tag that is now, also, just a hand’s reach away from you.

You look up, pocketing your plant nippers. The peonies dangle between your fingers.

“W-welcome!” you stutter, focusing on the thin metal chain running across his nose.

It’s new, an addition that intrigues you more about the man in front of you.

The look he gives you is lazy, gaze deadpan, almost empty. Anyone else might find it snobbish and off-putting, but you’ve gotten used to it—an almost magenta puffiness that surrounds his eyes, bags of fatigue that usually hang underneath.

He continues to stare, unmoving.

Considering all your previous interactions, you’ve realized, he isn’t scary or rude or anything of that sort—he’s just awkward.

A bit quiet and unbothered, maybe, but still just awkward. You don’t think he’s ever started an interaction with you first.

“Is there any flower in particular that you’re looking for?” you ask, motioning around your store.

The selection is limited this season—a few camellias and clusters of Japanese primrose with an abundance of peonies and daffodils.

His head turns as he glances around the store, pigtails bobbing slightly with each movement. When he faces you again, he shrugs, voice deep and firm as he asks, “Do you have any recommendations?”

It’s an odd feeling, borderline awkward and nervous; you have no idea why your mind is blanking.

“Um,” you clear your throat, tucking the peonies between your fingers into your apron pocket, “daffodils are bright and friendly, good for entryways and front desks, I think.”

He eyes the daffodils to your right, buckets of stems holding yellow and white. The store stays quiet for what feels like a good minute before he nods, agreeing to your suggestion.

“The usual?” two clusters, wrapped in newspaper.

Your question echoes throughout the shop, lingering while you pick at which daffodils look best.

“Yes, but two of them.” he answers in monotone, before adding on, a soft hesitancy, “Please.”

You smile to yourself, picking more daffodils for another bunch.

Both of you make your way to the cashier, another bout of silence surrounding you as you crumple newspaper and pull at tape. He always watches, you notice, his focus set on your practiced handling of stems and leaves.

You look up momentarily, seeing that he keeps his head down, “The pigtails are cool.”

He doesn’t say anything, and for a while you’re afraid you might have offended him, but he responds, voice low; it’s soft, gentle in a way you never expected it to be.

“Thank you.” you catch him shifting his weight from your periphery, hands digging deeper into his pockets, “The dogs think they’re chew toys when I wear it this way.”

You most certainly were not expecting that, either.

This is the most initiative he’s taken to add onto the conversation.

You grin, chuckling under your breath, “That must be fun.”

It’s faint, but you think you hear him laugh a little.

When the flowers are completely wrapped, you set them aside, making your way behind the cash register. You punch in the cost, ready to bill him before he speaks again.

“Actually, would you happen to do deliveries?” he seems shy asking it, barely looking you in the eye.

“Yes!” You nod, grabbing a pen and paper to hand over to him, “Just write down your contact details, the address you want it delivered to, and when you’d like it to be delivered.”

Another thing you’ve realized, is that despite appearances and what he seems to be, Choso handles objects gently; the pen and paper you’d just given him were taken lightly from your fingertips. Even the strokes of his penmanship are slow, the tip of the pen barely creating an indent on the small sheet.

“Will you be having both of these delivered?” you ask, holding up the bundles of daffodils.

“Just one.” he answers promptly, before adding on again, “Thank you.”

And you know you shouldn’t ask, shouldn’t be so nosy, but—

“What’s the occasion?”—

Flowers are rarely in demand during the winter season.

—“If you don’t mind me asking,” you follow-up quickly.

The immediate quiet makes you think you might have gotten too comfortable again, made him feel weird about your questions—but he answers.

“My brothers,” he finishes the final curves of his writing, “they’re coming to visit.”

The piece of paper is handed to you, and you hum, acknowledging his response. You go over his details, reciting it to him to double-check. But when you land on his address, your eyes go wide, a little ‘oh!’ slipping out.

He furrows his brows, confused.

You definitely, most certainly did not expect this.

“Sorry,” you shake your head, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, “Just—“ you chuckle, “I think we might be neighbors.”

thank you notes: @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat for sending me lil prompts that somehow birthed into this!! + @yemmuishomeforthementallyunwell for feeding the choso brainrot 🥹 + @mysugu @soumies for being my angels, lights of my life!! listening to me ramble abt this and helping me pick music, hash out plot, pick title, everything! ily

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

#choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso fluff #jjk x you #jjk fluff #choso x y/n #jjk xyou #shotorus.writes #jjk #choso #im also still too lazy to do the banner #ill add it tomorrow #if this doesn't work out i'll still write the longer fic someday!! just wont be a priority!!#but i have lots of themes i kinda wanna touch on alr

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alexxuun · 4 months

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I need to know if other artists also experience this. Every time I tried, I have to hide my face and take +2 psychic damage.

#am I embarrassed by my writing skill? am I embarrassed by the plot? Am I just cringe?#even with one where I know a lot of people like and I also personally like #it’s still physically painful to read it #i need to know if other artists also have this problem #alexxuun #comic #artist

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earthtooz · 1 year

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fluff, apologising and making up after a 'fight' kind of drabble bc i miss suna <3

suna rintarou shows up to your university on the third day of the silent treatment.

the sight is a surprise, to say the least. your pro-volleyball player boyfriend standing outside your faculty’s building with his hands in his pockets, blending in with baggy jeans, a hoodie, and a cap. he looks the part of a university student, but you could never be fooled, not when he's 6'3 with an equally admirable stature from exercising.

amongst the crowd of outflowing students, the dark-haired spots you, olive eyes widening upon seeing you. he pushes himself onto two feet before walking over to where you stay rooted, dodging the students who just came out of the same lecture.

“hi,” suna greets, stopping just a few feet away from you. the sight of his lopsided smile is enough to get your heart racing again. you've missed him so much.

regardless, you cross your arms to keep up an angry front, not wanting to give in to his charms just yet no matter how good he may he at using them.

“what are you doing here?” you ask bluntly, betraying the butterflies in your stomach.

his expression doesn’t falter at your iciness. “not happy to see me?”

you are happy to see him, very much so, especially when he has taken the initiative of literally showing up at your campus and waiting for your classes to be over to see you. he must be tired from practice as well and you know too well that mondays were never kind to him.

so the fact that suna came all this way for you makes you feel a little special.

he’s even wearing some of that cologne that you really like and unless it’s for special occasions, you know that your boyfriend is never bothered enough to wear any fragrance. he is so sly that you could kiss him.

“not particularly, suna.” you say in response, lying through your teeth.

suna clutches his chest like he’s been shot, making a gasp of offence at your statement. “babe, after i came all the way to campus? i thought i’d never want to come back here but i made some exceptions for the love of my life and this is what i get in return?”

“suck it up, i guess.”

“-and who on earth is suna? never heard of him. can’t believe you’ve already forgotten my name after three days, i’m losing sight of reality, babe hold me, i might faint.”

“whatever,” you chuckle a little at his antics, eyes softening with a certain fondness that suna doesn’t miss. his lips twitch upwards at the sight of it.

this is his chance to win you back. he throws his line in in hopes of catching you hook and sinker.

“let’s go to dinner tonight,” he offers, recovering from his previously downed position, voice contrastingly soft and gentle to smoothen his proposal.

“what, so you can stand me up again?” you quip, instantly slicing the atmosphere to turn tense as the line snaps in half.

suna’s grin falls, morphing into a guilty frown. “c’mon pretty, that’s mean. you know how sorry i am, i didn’t mean to forget about our plans.”

you huff, letting your arms fall back to your sides. “i know, i know, but you standing me up just stung. it was frustrating because i made time for us that i could have used to study with instead,” you confess. “you know how stressed i’ve been with finals.”

the athlete stuffs his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “but i’m trying to make up for it.”

“i know and i appreciate it, but now’s not a good time. i’m sorry but i can’t go to dinner tonight or any time soon, i have a bunch of practice tests to do that i can’t keep putting off.”

“then can i come over?” asks suna, a hopeful lilt to his voice.

“and watch me study? do you really want that?”

“i just want to be with you, i can order us takeout or something- on me.”

“guess i’m just irresistible, huh?”

“duh, do you know how much i suffered during the weekend? missed you so much, practically died from boredom.”

“oh so i’m just another person for you to bother? is that how it is?” you ask, unable to contain your smile.

the dark-haired scoffs. “c’mon babes, you know you’re better than that. you’re the only person i can bother.”

“oh fuck off,” you whack his shoulder teasingly. “also for your information, you’re not coming between me and my education.”

“ambitious people are a turn-on,” he mutters with a shrug before pulling you in to kiss your cheek.

“ew get off me, freak,” you joke whilst shoving him, not rough enough to actually create distance but suna still stands his ground from the force. his hand goes to hold your other cheek as he smothers you with over-exaggerated affection.

you laugh in his hold, holding on to his wrists for balance. “suna!” you yelp when he pushes too much weight onto you, causing the two of you to stumble sideways. “actually get off me.”

“can’t. won’t. don’t want to. this is what you get for not responding to me all weekend- what does a man need to do to get a text back from the love of his life?”

“easy. be a man.” you step out of his grasp with a satisfied smirk, beginning to walk away from your boyfriend who stares at you with his mouth hung open in disbelief. inevitably, suna runs up to you.

and as he encases you with his arms in the middle of the empty gardens of your university faculty, you know that the two of you will be okay. even if suna is the bane of your existence, there is no one else for you like him.

#still on break lol #been writing a lot of silent treatment fics... apologies #suna x reader #haikyuu x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna rintaro x reader #rintarou suna x reader #hq x reader #suna rintarou fluff #suna fluff #suna rintarou x reader fic #suna rintarou x reader imagine

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