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posi-writes1 · 3 years

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Why are you here?

Here is another drabble (or maybe oneshot? I don’t know what the rules are) from my AO3. Nothing to complicated. Just a reader struggling and Oikawa being helpful. Hope you enjoy. :)

Word Count: Just shy of 1.6k

Your eyes glaze over as you listen to your friend ramble on. If you have to sit here and listen to her ramble on about Oikawa freaking Tooru any longer, you are going to implode. You really shouldn’t be surprised that this is where your afternoon study session went. It had become the norm. The two of you would meet up at the cafe around the corner from the school to go over your homework together and she would eventually lead you down the Oikawa conversation rabbit hole.

You managed to rein her in and keep her on task for approximately 30 minutes today. A new record, you think to yourself proudly. Inevitably though, the conversation went to Oikawa, the charismatic 3rd year and captain of the school’s volleyball team.

It isn’t that you had a problem with him specifically. You just thought he was a bit overrated and fairly annoying. But you didn’t hate him or anything. You shared a class with him. He was a decent student and classmate. Not overly impressive but by no means an idiot.

You do have to admit that he always had a solid showing in volleyball. You have seen him play volleyball, seen the plays he makes up on the fly, the way he strategizes. Oikawa is clever. His motivation entirely focused on being better at his sport. You suppose there is value in his talent there.

You stop that train of thought before it goes too far. You don’t want to think about Oikawa. You turn a vicious glare to your friend. It is her fault you were thinking about Oikawa in the first place. She catches your look and returns your glare with a confused furrow to her eyebrows.

“What?”

“Why are we talking about Oikawa again? I’m tired of hearing about him. He isn’t even that great.” Why do you sound so defensive?

Her cheeks turn dusty pink.

“I’m sorry--I didn’t even realize. Let’s go back to our work?”

You nod stiffly, shaking your thoughts away as you pick up your pen and go back to your homework.

============================================================= You stare at the grade at the top of the paper. You spent the last three days on this thing. How did you get such a crappy grade on it? You clench your fist, the paper crumpling under your hand. Your parents were going to be so disappointed. You always have struggled to keep up with their lofty expectations of you. It isn’t a conversation you are looking forward to having this evening over dinner.

You let out a deep sigh and sink down into your chair, your back hunching over and your shoulders coming up to create a barrier around you, a shield to protect you while you work through your thoughts and emotions. You try to tune out your classmates chattering while you steady your breathing. No point in being upset. You will just pick yourself back up, promise your parents you will try harder, and do just that. One mediocre grade isn’t the end of the world...right?

You exhale slowly as you sit back up properly, trying to appear casual as you scan the room around you to see if anyone saw your moment of weakness. Your gaze locks onto soft brown. You stare blankly at Oikawa for a few moments before turning back to your paper. You miss the curious look he gives as his eyes linger on you a little longer.

=============================================================

You hold onto the rusted metal chain as you swing slowly. You cancelled your afternoon study session, choosing to head to the park near your house instead. You wanted to kill time before the moment of reckoning when your parents ask how school was today. The last thing you needed was to be distracted by talk of Oikawa.

What you didn’t notice at that moment was the boy in question strolling past the park on his way home. By coincidence, he stops and glances over to see you on the swings, looking a little worse for wear mentally. It only takes him a moment to make his decision. He makes his way over to you, carefully as if to keep from scaring you away. He knows you don’t like him much but he can’t just ignore you when you look so sad.

You don’t notice his presence initially, the only thing alerting you to another person’s presence was the squeak of metal coming from the swing next to yours. Your head shoots up as you look around. The identity of your company throws you.

“Oikawa?” You sound incredulous.

“Yes?” He hums out in response as he pushes off to start the swing moving.

“Why are you here?” You flinch internally at the aggression in your tone. If Oikawa notices (he does), he doesn’t mention it.

“Well isn’t it obvious? I’m enjoying the swings.”

Your expression falls flat, your words tired.

“Oikawa, what do you want? I would like to be left alone.”

He brings his feet down abruptly, coming to a sudden stop and turning to watch you carefully.

“You want me to leave?”

You return his look warily.

“Do what you want.”

“Alright then.” He resumes his swinging. You think he is doing this just to frustrate you and it is working.

The two of you swing, the only sound breaking the silence was the squeak of rusted metal on metal, for about 5 minutes before Oikawa speaks again.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You pause.

“Talk about what? Nothing going on here. Nothing at all. Besides, even if there was something, why would I want to talk about it with you?”

He shrugs. “Impartial third party?”

“Why are you doing this? Don’t you have a volleyball to hit around? Or fangirls to charm?”

He shrugs again, choosing not to respond verbally this time, waiting for me to break, to talk to him. You tighten your lips into a straight line as you look across the park. Maybe if you refuse to engage with him, he will give up and go away. Another five minutes pass before you realize that he doesn’t plan to give up that easily.

“I don’t want to talk to you.” The venom that laced your words earlier had faded significantly. You just sound worn down now.

“Okay.” He sounds nonchalant, like he doesn’t care one way or the other.

You huff and slow your swing to a stop. You toe at the dirt as you collect your thoughts.

“Do you ever get tired of the expectations?” Your words are so quiet you weren’t even sure if you said them out loud. You must have because Oikawa’s attention immediately snaps to you. He doesn’t seem to need long to consider his answer.

“No.”

You weren’t sure if the answer you expected but it also didn’t surprise you.

“Why not? How do you handle it?”

This answer he contemplates for a few minutes. You wait patiently, just as he has for you through this whole interaction.

“Turn it into motivation, the extra push I need sometimes.” He hums softly, mulling over his words before he continues. “But--ultimately--the expectations of others shouldn’t matter.”

You scoff, of course he would make it seem that simple. “Sure.”

“Are you happy?”

The question catches you off guard and your mouth drops open as you stare at him dumbly.

“Well what does that even have to do with anything?”

“Well--if you are happy, the expectations shouldn’t matter as much, right? Take volleyball--”

You interrupt him with narrowed eyes and an irritated expression. “Does it have to be volleyball?”

He grins brightly in your direction. It’s disarming.

“Yes it does. Now listen. People have expectations of my skill, right?”

He pauses and looks to you for affirmation. You nod. He takes that to mean you are listening to him and continues.

“Well, sometimes, I will admit, it does get tiring. But, volleyball makes me happy. I practice and train to get better for my happiness, not theirs. These are my dreams on the line, not theirs. My happiness can’t hinge on their expectations.”

The words roll around in your brain as you try to comprehend what he was telling you. Did Oikawa just give you advice in a roundabout way? And decent advice at that? Silence settles around the two of you again before you stand, dusting off your skirt and turning to Oikawa.

“Okay.”

Confusion paints his features as he stands to join you.

“Okay?”

You nod resolutely. You feel ready to head home.

“Okay. I’m going to find my happiness.”

He looks surprised that you actually listened to him as you turn away from him and begin to walk away.

You stop about halfway to the entrance of the park before abruptly turning and stalking back in his direction. His confusion turns to concern as he watches you make your back over. Confusion turns to shock as you stand on your tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek. You pat his face lightly over the spot your lips just left as you plant your heels back on the ground. You throw a few parting words over your shoulder with a small wave of your fingers.

“Thanks for the advice, Oikawa. I guess you aren’t as bad as I thought you were.”

Oikawa watches you go, a small, unsure smile on his features before it falls as he processes your words. You thought he was bad? Well that won’t do. He collects himself as he rushes off after you, determined to change your mind once and for all.

#oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyu x reader #oikawa tooru #I really need to figure out how to tag #maybe one day #maybe never

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raindrops-on-the-roof · 4 years

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major fanfic progress update! please check here for updates on ALL wips!

hey everyone! this may be a bit of a long one, so i’ll post the tl;dr here and then continue on under the cut! these are all as of the 28th of May 2020!

posted: it's nothing: currently completed. if there's more carmen/gray content in the next season you betcha I'm gonna update it though! hash for updates: its nothing

here is something to believe in: on temporary hiatus while I work out where I want the direction of the plot to go. i try to post progress with the hash: histbi

unposted: red threads, golden chains: Phoenix Wright! a wrightworth-centric eight-chapter analysis of the original game (with artistic liberty involved, of course!). hash: red threads golden chains

You can lead a horse to Water: Fire Emblem: Three houses! a half-finished claudeleth drabble focusing on Byleth's thoughts of Garreg Mach. not sure how far it'll extend yet; we'll see. hash on tumblr: horse to water

Jump into the Fog: Overwatch! a multichap Symmrat fanfic based around the overwatch recall (cause there isn't enough of those!). title is shamelessly stolen from The Wombats and the legendary vargrimar and nezkah. hash for this: jitf!

more information on all of these under the cut!

Extended version!

it’s nothing: currently completed at about 8k words! i originally intended to leave it open ended at chp 3 for next season (which is confirmed!! hooray!!) but I eventually succumbed to y'all asking for more haha. not sure the direction i would take other than that though, and i feel like the ending suits the rush of it!

here is something to believe in: on temporary hiatus at around 30k words! i know this is disappointing to a lot of you but i honestly wrote most of those words in a spur of inspiration without any thought as to how it would work lmao. i need some time to work out what the plot will be so that my writing has direction and you guys aren’t left disappointed. the other thing is that chapters are currently spanning a half day at a time and i cannot continue that considering the game spans several years! so i need to plan that out too. would appreciate any advice/assistance! i’m also still looking for anyone interested in betaing it! please pm me if you are :D

red threads, golden chains: currently sitting in my doc at about 20k words. i started this fic almost a year ago as a guilty pleasure during my last year at school (which is mostly why it didn’t get finished) but it is almost completed! i think only another 5k words max before it’s edited and posted which is super exciting! it’s likely going to be about eight chapters, posted weekly. keep an eye on the hash for updates! here is a taster (i haven’t written the description yet lmao):

“Edgeworth glares at him again and Phoenix remembers when they were on the same side. He supposes that it had never been intentional to chase Edgeworth, but that was just how things ended up: he doesn’t think he’s thankful for Dahlia, exactly, but almost certainly without her he never would’ve met Mia the way he did.

The more he thinks about it, the more he thanks his lucky stars that he fell into her lap and reconsidered that day - the day Miles defended him in class and seared himself into Phoenix’s memory. From that day, Miles showed him he wasn’t and never would be alone.

Until the incident, of course.

He left, and never explained why. He left Phoenix behind, and though that view is childish and he knows it, he can’t help but feel the cold space he left behind, tugging at his very being for years and years.”

look forward to it!

You can lead a horse to Water: it’s a oneshot; currently about a quarter done at around 1.5k. Claudeleth/Bylaude is probably in my top fire emblem ships so i just HAD to write something for it after the feels of this fic and ESPECIALLY this fic! the stunning poetry inspired me so much; just read these lines: ‘He wonders in-between breaths “If she could see me now, would she hate me?”.

Yet what he says is “If I need to shut up, then make me.”

And what he thinks is “If this is a nightmare, then wake me.”’ SPECTACULAR! unfortunately the fic is orphaned, but still, please go read it!

songs such as Charlie by Mallrat and Apricot Princess by Rex Orange County also inspired this! no clue when it’ll be up, but i’m not letting go of it. here’s a taste:

“The first time Byleth saw Claude, it was like something clicked.

Not visibly and hardly mentally, of course - but in her heart, despite its determination not to beat, something almost shifted, like it realised its perpetual emotionless state was unsustainable and impossible against his charming smiles.

Except, his smiles weren’t charming; they were razor-sharp, pointy and pointed, and it would take a long time before that changed, unfortunately.”

watch this space for more updates!

Jump into the Fog: the plans are currently at about 6k lmao! i am very excited for this fic cause it’ll be my first fully planned one! i have the overarching plot and all the characters planned out (everyone will be there, even Echo!) and am just writing the seperate character arc plots and finishing up the ideas for individual missions and such! here is the summary:

“Through no fault of her own, Symmetra finds out of Vishkar’s wrongdoing. Not knowing who to trust and having nowhere to go, she follows the last person on Earth she wanted to see to somewhere that can help her; Overwatch.

His health quickly deteriorating, Junkrat resigns himself to his shortened lifespan and decides to go out with a bang. Recalling a doctor who saved countless lives from his youth, Roadhog doesn’t take that lying down, and the ensuing hunt places them at Overwatch’s door.”

timeline placement: takes past after two weeks after the Paris mission shown in the Overwatch two release video. easy to assume after the events of the Christmas of year one of the recall. Baptiste’s betrayal of Talon brought a year earlier. Junkrat and Roadhog in Australia for Christmas, Lucio’s record released after Vishkar left Rio in November of that year. hence, this takes place in early Jan.

at the moment the planned ships are 100% symmrat, gency and bunnyribbit, and am considering the rest of the characters’ ships. i am also trying to make it as scientifically viable as possible! no cheesing here, i did my research into radiation poisioning lmao. Satya actually gets her friend *cough* Baptiste *cough* to disconnect her arm as she flees from Vishkar! the people present at the Overwatch base when they arrive (a week between them) are the people shown in Zero Hour, minus Genji (which will be explained!)

I’m SO excited for this fic, but I have no idea when it will be ready to post lol. I will likely try to finish other things before starting writing it (namely horse to water and red threads, golden chains and maybe even histbi), so the plans may sit dormant for some time. will be putting out a call for betas when i start writing!

thank you for reading, everyone! stay safe out there!

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jadeile-writes · 4 years

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Let’s talk about my newest fic spree because I wanna

First Imma talk Zelda. Hazbin will be discussed after. I’ll bold the first line of it so it’s easy to skip there if you’re so inclined.

But Zelda now.

Nobody has actually expressed any concerns about it, but I’m going to imagine that someone is losing sleep over this because it makes me feel important and stuff. And by "it”, I mean the “Shiiiit, she’s jumping fandoms, she is definitely going to abandon all things Zelda now and Adventure Gone Mini will never be finished and also the fandom will probably somehow combust without her, halp!”

That’s a valid concern. That happens a lot with writers, fanartists, and other content creators (and non-creators, but that’s less panic-worthy for most people). So, let me reassure you: I admit I’m a lot less enthusiastic about Mini nowadays, but that doesn’t mean I’m willing to abandon it this easily. It started as and still is a passion project, and I’ve actually managed to write it consistently for over a year now, which is unheard of with me.

I’ve admittedly occasionally considered taking a break from it, but I’m well aware that if I stop writing it for any amount of time, chances are I’ll procrastinate getting back to it until eventually it’s officially forever unfinished. I’m not willing to risk that, which was actually the reason why I stopped publishing a new chapter every two weeks and switched to three weeks a few months ago. That way my flagging enthusiasm got balanced by having more time to get it done without it being a chore. That works really well, too. I can certainly keep this up since it’s already a routine and I do actually know where the story is going and everything. All I need to do is write it. Sometimes it’s boring and uninspired, sometimes I’m hella happy doing it, but the bottom line is that I’m able to do it regardless of my mood for it.

I’m not sure if I’ll do the Mini sequel I’ve occasionally talked about in my comment replies. It may just be that I’ll sigh out of relief when I’m finally done with Mini and decide to simply let it go. I can’t say yet. I mean, the sequel wouldn’t be anything much anyway, just revisiting the characters and places, having Zelda drop by, a peek at Sidon’s magical training, stuff like that, probably in the form of drabble chapters. So it wouldn’t really be that hard to write, but I can’t estimate my inspiration for it at this point. We shall see. It’s still months away, since Mini is far from done.

I’m not sure if I’ll really get back to that Revalink fic I’ve advertised in my blogs here and at Ko-fi, even if I don’t yet actually feel like dropping it. I mean, it’d be a breath of fresh air anyway, since it’s a different ship and timeline (as in, before Calamity). So who knows.

I’m reasonably sure I won’t be starting any new Sidlink fics, though that’s partly because I’ve already explored the ship so thoroughly with the fics I have that it’d feel repetitive. So that’s one thing you shouldn’t hold your breath for. I’m sorry.

As for the fandom as a whole... There’s the sequel to BotW coming up, so it just might toss me right back into the fandom right when I feel like I’m done being super active here (for the record, I typically don’t really leave fandoms forever, I just stop being obsessed). So, there’s still solid hope for more BotW fics in the future. But for now I’m definitely only doing Mini, and then my other fandoms on the side.

Oh, speaking of that. Yes, I’m writing hella lot of fics for Hazbin Hotel, and it might feel like I’m neglecting Mini by using my time for these other fics instead, but that’s not the case. I still have my weekly regular writing hour dedicated to Mini alone; no other fic is being written at that particular slot of time, and Mini keeps being steadily written. The other fics are written at random times, and that time would not be spent on writing Mini even if I stopped writing the other fics. I’d probably just use that time playing Pokémon Sword instead or reading other people’s fanfics or watching youtube or something. So, no need for jealousy or worry there.

Now, let’s talk Hazbin Hotel.

If you’re following me on ffnet or AO3, or simply keep an eye on the new Hazbin fics in general, you may have noticed that I published the first chapter of Aceducation yesterday. The next chapter will be published tomorrow. Yay! And the last chapter will be up this Thursday. Excite!

I’m actually very proud of the fact that I got a grip and wrote the last chapter that quickly after promising I’d get it done soon.

...Yes, of course there is an ulterior motive for being so prompt about it.

And that motive is that I want to start publishing “Shit, the Radio Demon is a part of my afterlife”, or Afterlife for short, soon. I mean, since I plan on publishing one chapter a week, I already have a buffer of seven weeks at hand (yes, I finished chapter six today, so there is no longer an awkward gap between chapters there). That’s a long time to be used to write more, and also a long time for me to wait for my readers to catch up to the new stuff cause I’m excited about everything and I want you guys to see it : | So, I don’t want to wait any longer.

I don’t want to be wasteful about my general fic output by publishing all the fics at once, tho, so I needed to get the shorter fic, Aceducation, out of the way. That is, unless I wanted to hold onto it until after Afterlife was done, which would be months away with the once-a-week-and-over-ten-chapters schedule. Hence, suddenly a lot of motivation to get it done and published asap XD

Now, the question on your mind should be “Okay, so when do we get the first chapter of Afterlife?” And I have already decided on the answer: 6th of December.

Why that date? Multiple reasons. Starting with the fact that Aceducation will take until Thursday to be fully published, and I’m not publishing both fics at once. Secondly, since I update this blog on Saturdays, I want to hold on publishing the first chapter of Afterlife until after the next Saturday, purely so that I can officially put the posting date on the Update blog and post a spoiler snippet of the first chapter here before the actual publishing. Thirdly, and this is a long game reason, because of my Zelda epic, Adventure Gone Mini. I update Mini every three weeks on Wednesdays. Now, Sunday and Monday would be viable options for a weekly updating of another chapter fic, but I just don’t wanna. Tuesday is not an option, because then I’d be flooded with Hazbin feedback on Wednesday and that’d distract me from Mini (although that’s what I’m doing with Aceducation right now, ironically enough). Thursday I’ll be receiving feedback from Mini, so that’d be distracting me from Afterlife. But Friday works well long term, so Friday it is : D

If you feel like you can’t wait that long for the first chapter of Afterlife... well, I have it worse, trust me. I’m dying to post right this damn second XD That damn itch started the moment I finished writing chapter six today and was like “Huh, now I have seven consecutive chapters done. That’s seven weeks of content, and took me maybe two weeks to write. I now have seven weeks to write the rest of this fic, and obviously every finished chapter will bump that by one more week. ... ... why aren’t I already publishing the first chapter so that my future readers can start reading already agdakhdgkagdkga!!”

So yeah, I suppose that’s all I have to say. And this essay is about 1400 words long, which I would happily publish as a oneshot or a chapter if this was a fanfic. Can’t I stop being a writer for one damn second? Heh, see you around, my lovely readers!

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iridescentanachronism · 5 years

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calum + a coffeeshop run-in

Hello folks! I am back again to wreck havoc (by wreck havoc i mean write a mediocre at best + way too long oneshot LOL) so I hope no one minds! I am in love with Calum Hood so idk i thought i’d write this cute fluffy piece! This is an OC I might use her again, and the two don’t meet till the end but its very fluffy! If you’re not a fan of slow burn this probably isn’t the drabble for you. Anywho! Thank ya for the support on the last fic and constructive criticism is MORE than welcome!!! Love ya <3

WC: 1914

As the soft sunlight poured into the coffeehouse, she let a small smile grace her face; a steaming cafe au lait was sitting to the right of her favorite novel, It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini. The warm brick walls were covered with blankets of thick ivy and the familiar barista sent her a wave as he grinned at her seat of choice. Every Saturday morning she, as gracefully as possible, plopped her bag down onto the corner table next to the large window, and proceeded to order the exact same thing as the week before. The habit had evolved into more of a tradition for her and the employees, and all parties involved looked forward to it every week. Of course, however, not everyone knew of her tradition. All of the regulars looked at her with familiarity, however, Calum Hood was not a regular.

He first spotted her on Saturday the third, he would never forget the date. After becoming overwhelmed with the stress of the studio he had popped out for a smoke and ended up in the cozy joint, not anticipating the beautiful girl humming in the corner. He noticed how the pages of her book had been dog-earred, spine worn, and the cover had shown marks that could only be a result of love. He noticed the way her thick brown hair laid perfectly over her shoulders, and the way her hazel eyes began to moisten while she read. He knew that he wasn’t the only person whose breath had been taken by the polished young woman. Whilst Calum took his time adoring the woman who he had deemed no less than an angel, the boys continued to work, and eventually his brief solace had to come to an end. After receiving his drink, he considered introducing himself, but he knew he didn’t have much time before his absence would go from being a mere annoyance to a menace, so he swore to go back on the next Saturday, hoping that her visit was a habit.

Calum had never felt as though the days passed by slowly, his schedule was always packed and the bassist had little time to dedicate to anything other than his craft. Typically, he would be grateful for the daily recording sessions, long days of interviews, and time to perfect his abilities; this week, however, Calum yearned for the time to pass more quickly. He busied himself with every possible task in an effort to distract himself from the memory of the woman who had entranced him. No, he didn’t believe in “love at first sight”, but he did know that he was drawn to this girl in a way he had never felt before. He had purchased a copy of the novel that she appeared to adore, and after starting it he had realized why her eyes misted at the cafe; it was a gut wrenching story of perseverance in its most raw form. After reading a few chapters, he proceeded to clean his kitchen, do a load of laundry, tune his bass, attempt to write, and make himself lunch, Calum had about had it. It was only eleven in the morning on Wednesday, how the hell was he supposed to last until Saturday? He allowed his mind to wander into a dangerous territory; he began to build a backstory for the beauty. He decided she must be a quiet introvert who preferred to go at her own pace than follow another's, that's why she spent her Saturday morning alone and in peace, rather than surrounded by friends or family.

After a long day of bussing tables, Theo unceremoniously threw herself onto the couch in the backroom. It had been a busy Friday night at the restaurant she worked at, a scene that she knew far too well from her years of working there. She allowed herself three minutes, no more and no less, to rest before her short trip home. She was simply so exhausted that even the drive to her home had seemed daunting. After her time-out had ended, she quickly wished a goodnight to her coworkers and walked to her car. She faced almost no traffic on her car ride home (as she had expected, as she clocked out at 11:03pm), and made her way into her cozy apartment. After saying hello to the attendant at the desk downstairs, she scurried up to the third floor to complete her nighttime routine and jump into her familiar bed. Before allowing herself to fade into sleep, she rolled over and made sure to set her alarm for nine; it was simply tradition that she made it to her coffeeshop before the eleven o’clock rush.

On Saturday morning Calum was buzzing with excitement. Duke’s “walk” appeared to be more of a speed walk today, and Calum’s shower was about five minutes shorter than usual; his hair routine, however? Roughly 15 minutes and approximately eight curses longer. He could not wrap his head around the gut feeling he had all week: the stunning girl would be back today, and Calum would approach her. The plan seemed simple enough, being that he had not made one yet. Calum, or “Cool Guy Cal” as he demanded people call him, thought he would be able to come up with a smooth one-liner as he approached the girl he could not get off his mind. He gave Duke a quick kiss on the head before grabbing his car keys, asking fate to give him this one chance with the girl he couldn’t forget.

Theo woke up well before her alarm, she set it every Friday night hoping that her work sleep schedule would magically wear off and she would be able to sleep past six, but her plan never worked. She padded around her apartment in her ex’s large tee shirt and fed her goldfish, Samuel, while affectionately murmuring that he was the best choice she’d ever made. She tidied up the house and began her morning routine, brushing her teeth, washing her face, and pulling her unlawful curls out of her eyes with a few clips. She sighed at the dark circles underneath her eyelids, but hadn’t thought enough about them to bother with makeup. She grabbed her day bag, untouched from the week before, and happily trotted out of her complex. The walk to the cafe had always been her favorite part of her trips, the birds chirping and the bright sun spreading across her skin could turn any day into a good one. Her green maxi skirt brushed along her legs as she confidently strutted down the same route she took every Saturday morning. She walked with her shoulders back and head held high; unknowingly carrying an aura of professionalism and class. The young woman hadn’t realized that she appeared so poised before she moved to the Golden State. Far more people than she could count had complimented her for her stature since she moved, and she had just about had it with strangers approaching to compliment her “vibe”. During her tenure in Los Angeles, Theo had realized that everything here was curated to be seen by others. Simply, in LA people believed that every aspect of one’s life was meant to be on display, and therefore, little things like one’s strut down the street and the amount of rings on their hand translated to their worth and opinions. She continued her trot down the road, ignoring the looks being sent her way and instead focusing on the cafe au lait and comforting text that she knew awaited her.

Before Calum left his car, he made sure to triple check his appearance. He wore what he believed to be his best shirt (Ashton agreed with him, so he knew it wasn’t a mistake), left his curls a little messy, and made sure he had absolutely nothing in his teeth, despite the fact that he hadn’t yet consumed anything. He jumped out of the car and walked briskly to the ivy covered walls, a warm feeling began to spread in his chest as he swung open the doors and glanced around the cafe. The feeling dissipated quickly when he realized that the girl he had ventured out for was, in fact, not there. He ordered his drink of choice and sat at a table near a window before huffing in frustration, but he had nothing to lose at this point, so once his number was called he rose to pick up his drink and enjoy the serene cafe he had found himself in.

The little bell jingled above Theo’s head as she walked into the place she had grown so familiar with, her face still felt hot from the merciless Los Angeles summer she had walked through, and it was her absolute favorite feeling. The long skirt fluttered around her calves as she walked up to the counter to say hello to the baristas that she now called her friends, and they began working on her drink without even asking what she would like. She went to take her usual place in the secluded corner by the window, and while walking over noticed a breathtaking man sitting two tables away from her spot. Her breath hitched in her throat and she shot him a soft smile as she took her rightful place.

My God. I could wake up to that smile everyday. Calum thought to himself in awe. He quickly curved up the sides of his mouth to send her (what he hoped was) a sweet grin in return. He quickly shook the previous thought out of his head, knowing it was more than irrational and inappropriate since he had yet to even learn the girls name. He watched as the man who took his order walked over to her table with a bemused smile, they chatted briefly and it became quite obvious to Cal that his hunch had been correct, she does come here every Saturday morning. Zach, the barista, had left her table with a laugh and returned with a big mug. After straining to hear Calum heard the girl release a melodic giggle paired with a genuine thank you for the server. Zach mockingly bowed to her and said, with an exaggerated wink, “anything for you, Princess Theo”. Ignoring the spark of jealousy that ignited when Calum heard the pet name, he felt more gratitude for Zach than he could ever imagine. Theo. Theo fit the young woman perfectly; a greek name meaning “divine gift”. With this newfound information Calum felt the surge of confidence he needed, he approached the table in the corner with a bit of nerves in his tummy.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Calum, I was just wondering if this seat is taken?” He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but Calum may have thickened his accent a bit in an effort to woo the girl. She already had him wrapped around her finger, at this point he needed every advantage he could get. He watched in adoration as her face flushed bright pink, and she sputtered out a greeting of her own, “Oh! Um- hi I’m Theo it’s nice to meet you as well, no-no, the seat isn’t taken.” From the second that Calum slid into the chair across from her, Theo knew he would be nothing but trouble, and in the years to follow she would learn that while he was troublesome, he was so much more.

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xx-thedarklord-xx · 6 years

Text

I Gift to You

@restlessandordinary OKAY, two things. One, I had this idea in my head and it is probably WAY different than you originally planned. Sorry about that. Two, this is later than I told you I would get it out. Sorry about that. Three, if you’ve got an AO3, I would like to have it so that I can gift this to you, since it is longer than a normal drabble and can stand as a oneshot.

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The first time it happened, Draco swore it was just a slip up. He wouldn’t do it again. Nope. Potter certainly didn’t deserve his generosity. Because that was exactly what this was. People didn’t give him enough credit when it came to being nice.

It’s just that the sight of the eleven-year-old in glasses that weren’t fitting his face, were horribly old, fading in color and just not aesthetically pleasing, had him wanting to rectify this travesty immediately. This wasn’t because he cared or anything. Nope. This was doing everyone else a favor. Really. It benefited society by no one having to see the hideous specs.

Draco timed it perfectly. He knew that Potter tended to spend longer eating than everyone else. Certainly, longer than Weasley. The redhead inhaled food quicker than he did air. So, when Potter was about to leave for his morning class, Draco signaled the school owl that he had trained to wait for his mark. It took weeks to train the bloody bird. The only problem was that the bird was now attached to him. Which hadn’t been previously intended. At least the owl had proper taste.

The brown barn owl swooped down, catching the attention of a few stragglers but otherwise the notice was limited.

Confusion was the first expression that Draco could make out. He knew that the Gryffindor probably wondered why his snowy owl hadn’t delivered the mail, but the boy was too curious to not open it. Not exactly the smartest thing to do but that was just his own suspicious nature coming forward.

The confusion quickly bled into shock before a genuinely pleased glint appeared in the brunette’s eyes.

Instructions had been placed in the package, because Draco knew that intelligence was the reason the reckless idiot hadn’t been placed into Ravenclaw. The glasses were charmed to stay on his face until the wearer wished them off. They would mold to the user’s needs, whether the eye sight got worse with age or not. Not to mention, the frames would change to match the user’s outfit, ensuring that they remain elegant at all times. Which was a deal breaker in his opinion.

Draco’s resolve to allow this to be a brief moment of weakness and a onetime instance, shattered at the flush on Potter’s face and a shy grin flickered on the Gryffindor’s lips.

Salazar, this wasn’t supposed to happen. The git wasn’t allowed to make him feel like this. Draco Lucius Malfoy doesn’t do sappy feelings.

Angrily, Draco made his way swiftly towards the entrance, inwardly cursing Potter’s existence. It wasn’t until he almost reached the door that he heard Longbottom’s question.

“Oh, wow. Those are pretty expensive. Who sent them to you?”

“No idea.” Potter’s tone was a little awed. “The note just says, ‘To fix your face, finally’.”

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Draco was determined that the second time still be counted as a slip up. This wasn’t going to be a regular thing. Nope. Not at all. Because that was just silly. Draco Lucius Malfoy doesn’t do nice things for other people. Especially to Potter.

Unfortunately, the delivery was not as well timed as last year’s gift. The other two members of the Idiotic Trio were still around.

He watched his the school owl struggle to carry the packages and it caused a twinge of guilt inside Draco. He couldn’t trust any other owls to do the job, so the bird would have to do it alone.

When Potter looked to the owl, it was clear that he recognized the bird. The Gryffindor reached out a hand to softly pet the owl before opening the packages with gusto.

Draco couldn’t hear what was going on from where he sat, but he could tell that the other boy had gasped. It was the way the eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open slowly. Which was a great reaction so far. He knew that his gift would mean something. Not that he cared about that.

The silence was killing him. He needed to know what was being said. Draco slowly made to the end of the table, pretending that he was listening to a few of his housemate’s conversations before using that as a reason to go a different route towards the exit.

Just as he passed, he caught the beginning of Weasley’s questions.

“What is it? Why would someone send you books full of scribbles?”

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Scribbles. That one actually hurt.

“It’s not scribbles, Ron!” Granger corrected. “I think it’s in Parseltongue.”

“It is.” Potter whispered, fingers running over the title of the first book. Behind the Wonders of Parseltongue Volume I: The History of the Snake Language and Why it’s a Blessing and Not a Curse.

“Why do you think they sent it?” Weasley asked, eyeing the book warily.

“To send me a message.” Answered Potter, placing the book in his lap, only to pick up the second one. Behind the Wonders of Parseltongue Volume II: The Astonishing Accomplishments that Parseltongue has Brought to the World.

“What message? Because they think you are Slytherin’s Heir?”

Draco wasn’t going to even bother coming up with a mental reply for that one.

“No.” Potter shook his head. “So that I can love all parts of me. Even the ones that are perceived as evil.”

The insight had Draco fighting off a flush. That was not his intention… not exactly. He just hated the thought of others degrading Potter’s ability just because they don’t understand it. There is nothing wrong with being a Parselmouth. It wasn’t dark, vile or even evil.

“Does the note say who it’s from?” There was suspicion in Granger’s tone, which had Draco scoffing internally. If he had wanted to harm Potter, he would have. It’s not like the brunette even spell checks the gifts. Which was actually pretty moronic, but that was just Draco’s thought on the matter.

“No, it just says, ‘To learn something, for once’.”

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The evidence against this being a onetime incident was becoming a reach, even in Draco’s own mind. But that was beside the point.

So far, this would probably be his worst idea yet. This was getting rather personal… but he couldn’t allow this year to continue with the mass hysteria that everyone walked around with. Not when it was a farce to begin with.

This time, he chose to have Russet—not that he named the infernal bird—deliver the gift during a nighttime study session the Idiotic Trio were having in the Library.

When a light scratching drew Potter’s attention to the window next to him, Draco stepped into the shadows of an alcove.

“Oh, it’s you.” Potter’s voice took a happy glint to it.

Draco watched him rip of the packaging and freeze. This was a normal reaction, but he just hoped that the brunette wouldn’t become angry.

News clippings, articles posted in obscure news outlets, court records and even statements made by the accused where staring up at Potter.

He watched Potter’s brow furrow slightly with each passing minute until he was full blown frowning as each parchment was leafed through.

“Hermione!” Potter whisper yelled as his voice cracked.

“What? What is it? Oh, your anonymous friend sent you something?” Granger hadn’t looked up from her book on Medieval Flobberworms and Why They Were the Downfall of Mermish Society, as she walked down the aisle.

“Hermione, can the Wizengamot sentence someone to Azkaban without a trial?”

That caused Granger to peer up at him in confusion. “No, it violates several laws and is illegal.”

Potter thrusted all of the articles harshly as Weasley came around the other side of the table and read over their shoulders.

“Oh.” Granger whispered, blinking rapidly. “This isn’t good.”

“Black is innocent, isn’t he?” There was a miserable confusion in Potter’s tone. But Draco couldn’t have admitted that he knew from his father that Black truly hadn’t been a Death Eater, without revealing sources.

“Let me guess.” Weasley began sarcastically. “There’s no signature?”

“Just a note that says, ‘To provide the proof that has always been there, idiot’.”

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Sadly, it wasn’t hard to send Potter his gift this time. Weasley was being pathetically obtuse by thinking Potter would actually put his name in the Goblet. Granger was spending time between the two. All he had to do was wait until he knew she was with the redhead.

It was a bit risky to send the package outside, due to the chance of being caught but Draco knew that now was the best time.

The sound of fluttering wings had caught Potter’s attention. The Gryffindor put up his arm, allowing Russet a perch to land on.

“Hey you.” Potter teased, gently running his fingers through her feathers before taking the burden from the bird.

“Feels like a book.”

Draco rolled his eyes. Sometimes he wondered if Potter liked to state the obvious just to hear himself talk.

He watched Potter arch a brow as he picked up, Triwizard Tournament 1410: The Year No One Survived.

“What a morbid gift.” Potter whispered, aghast. Probably wondering why he would be sent a book that mentioned the deaths of all contestants.

It wasn’t until he began skimming the chapters that Potter let out a happy shout. “They are cycling through old tasks!”

Honestly, it was sad that Potter hadn’t gone through the history of the Triwizard Tournament. After the Dragons, Draco had recognized the task. It was the exact same, down to the golden eggs as well. It didn’t take a genius to realize what the second one would be, if one were to take in account of the history.

“Oh.” Potter whispered, eyes traveling the pages rapidly. “The egg is speaking in Mermish.” The boy smacked his forehead so hard, Draco wondered if it would leave a dent. Which would probably be an improvement.

Potter looked to Russet with kind eyes and a soft expression. “Your owner is wonderful.”

Draco refused to let that fluster him. It was just a truth after all. It was a known fact that Draco Lucius Malfoy is wonderful. Everyone knew it.

“Not to mention rude.” Potter chided with a small smile as he read the note. “To give help, Merlin knows you need it.”

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Draco wasn’t sure about this one. He knew he was taking a giant risk by doing this. It was one thing to listen in on his father while home, but it was another to actively go against him. Providing Potter either of these wasn’t the smartest.

The timing on this one was horrible but there was nothing Draco could do to change it. This was the only way to guarantee that Potter would be alone when he received them.

He watched the Gryffindor walk down the corridor with a hand curled to his chest, pain on his face and tired eyes that weren’t paying attention to anything. Draco knew that Umbridge had given the idiot detention again.

A small hoot from Russet had Potter looking up, smile lighting his features. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

The bird was once again struggling under the weight, but Potter was quick to help. He led the bird over to a bench against the wall before opening the package.

Potter’s brows pinched harshly as he picked up a book. “Prophecies and Why They Aren’t Meant to be Taken at Face Value.”

“Huh.” Potter scratched the side of his head. “Cryptic but I suppose I’ll keep it in mind.”

When Potter picked up the vial, a soft expression appeared on his face and it had Draco’s breath catching. He had to force himself not to look away.

“It’s a healing salve.” Potter’s tone was pleased but shy. The Gryffindor unscrewed the cap before placing it on the back of his bleeding hand. “I wish I could thank your owner.”

The overheard gratitude was enough for Draco.

A snort had Draco arching a brow. “To keep you safe, since you aren’t doing a good enough job.”

“They sure are blunt.” There was a pause as Potter traced the note gently. “But that’s a refreshing change from secrecy.”

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Perhaps Draco was feeling petty. Or his pride was wounded. Either one worked. He watched Potter’s face fall as he opened the gift from across the Great Hall.

Draco didn’t spare a look after that. He already knew that the Gryffindor was sorry but tell that to his disfigured body that would never look the same.

Dark Spells and Why Morons Shouldn’t Use Them Without the Knowledge Behind It.

No note had been attached, it was Draco’s way of voicing his displeasure but also because he hadn’t been sure what to say. He knew that the blame wasn’t solely on Potter but there had been a drastic difference in the two of them that day.

He stabbed his mashed potatoes heavily before shoving them to the side. His appetite had long ago disappeared.

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This was the first year that Draco had no idea how his gift would be perceived. He wasn’t there to witness it and had no idea where Potter was even at. It had taken quite a bit of Dark Magic to be able to get his owl to sense his previous gifts. He was counting on Potter being sentimental enough to have taken at least one of them with him on whatever expedition the moron was doing.

As much as it would be nice having the Golden Boy here for his last year, he knew that fighting the Dark Lord was preferable. Hogwarts wasn’t home anymore. Not with the Carrows here. Not with the violence or the curses. Not with scared children or irresponsible teachers. This wasn’t the Hogwarts Potter knew nor was it the Hogwarts that this place deserved.

Draco walked the corridors, pointedly ignoring the younger students sneaking out of the Great Hall. Today was mandatory ‘training’ with the Carrows. All older students were to show that they were capable of performing two of the Unforgivable Curses. Their targets were the younger students.

It had been difficult thinking of something that he could offer Potter, what do you get someone that is risking their life to protect the rest of the world? How do you offer something meaningful when life itself could be taken at any given time? What kind of gift is there to provide?

In the end he had sent numerous books on counteracting Dark Magic, what to do if one is involved in a Dark ritual and methods on surviving in the unknown. Charms to help against minimal to mild curses, and even objects to ward off intruders had been sent along as well. His gift might have been seen as overkill, but the message was clear, same as the note tied to Russet.

Don’t die, you bumbling moron.

Not just for the rest of the world, or even because someone needed to fight against the Dark Lord. No. Draco needed Potter alive for his own relief. He wanted the Gryffindor to live because it was only fair. The boy shouldn’t have to live his life only to die. What kind of shite was that?

“Don’t die, Potter.” Draco whispered to himself before straightening up at the sound of footsteps.

“Where did those students go? Did you see them escape?”

“No.” Draco informed Alecto as he turned around, head straightening, lie easily falling from his mouth. “You might want to try Zabini’s sector.”

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This was the last time. Draco knew that he couldn’t keep doing this. Not with the way things had played out. Not with the way his emotions were already too invested. Because if he didn’t get control of himself, then he would be spending the rest of his bloody life sending Potter gifts.

Draco had always thought sending Potter things had been difficult but none of them would hurt as badly as this one.

He made his way to the Owlery, timing it enough that he knew Potter had already left. The Gryffindor liked to visit the owls, probably missing his own Snowy one. A pang filled Draco at the thought of Russet dying as Hedwig had.

Right as he reached the door, a flash near his peripheral vision had him pausing. Despite not seeing anything of concrete, he couldn’t help but feel as if he was being watched. But time was of the essence, so he squared his shoulders and made his way inside.

The excited hoot Russet released at the sight of him had Draco smiling softly. He watched her jump from one foot to the next before flying straight to him.

“Hey beautiful.” Draco cooed, running his fingers along the top of her head. “You just saw me yesterday, you can’t have missed me that much.”

She gave him a reproachful look before nipping his finger affectionately.

Draco sighed heavily, trying to work up the courage that would be needed. “When I trained you, I always thought that our partnership would be for the one time. But apparently I have no self-control.” He shook his head ruefully at the way his eleven-year-old self had acted.

“I didn’t think I would grow attached to you.” If an owl could be smug, he knew that Russet was. The bloody self-righteous bird. “But I did. You are definitely smarter than other owls but also far too kind to be associated as mine.” He held up a hand when she hooted indignantly.

“But that’s not the point. You see, I thought long and hard about what my final gift should be.” He closed his eyes briefly. “I know he misses his owl, it’s easy to tell by the way he stops here to visit. He has a liking for you, so I know that my gift will be perceived well.”

A sad hoot had him peering into equally sad brown eyes. “He’ll be able to give you the kindness that I can’t.” When her beak opened but no sound came out, Draco was positive his heart broke. “I already made up the note. I just need to tie it to you and then… and then say goodbye.” His voice had cracked a little on the last word. This shouldn’t be affecting him so much, but Russet was the only thing that was normal anymore, the only constant in his life. Giving up his owl would be giving up a part of himself but… that was alright, right?

Draco blinked rapidly as he tied the note to Russet’s leg. He couldn’t meet her eyes as he touched her feathers. “You’ll be alright. Potter will take care of you.” That much he knew. He thrusted his arm a little in the air until she left his arm in an indignant cry.

He walked to the wall, not able to watch Russet fly away. Draco tilted his head until he could rest it firmly against the brick of the owlery, eyes closed tightly.

It took several moments before he realized that Russet’s wings hadn’t flapped for long. Her movement wasn’t still heard.

Draco opened his eyes and froze at the sight of Potter in the doorway, eyes peering softly at him and Russet sitting proudly on his shoulder.

“You would give me her?” Potter asked, breath a shaky whisper and hands trembling minutely.

“I’m not—It’s not—” He bit his lip, unsure if he could lie his way out of this.

Potter shook his head, stalling anything Draco could say.

“I figured out it was you a few years ago.”

If Draco’s head wasn’t already close to the wall, he would have jerked it in surprise.

The way the Gryffindor was standing made him think that the other boy was nervous. “I thought that it might have been you during my fifth year. Who else would insult me, you know? But it wasn’t until our sixth year that I knew. I really wanted to talk to you about it, but I ruined that with the bathroom incident. And you’ve got to know that I didn’t know what that spell would do. I would have never used something like that. I would—”

Draco raised a hand to interrupt the already long speech. “I know, Potter. I know. I wasn’t innocent either. I was angry at you for so long that I didn’t realize that you made it all real. What I was doing held consequences. You were one of those consequences. I couldn’t keep going as I was, something had to give. Unfortunately, that was me. I have accepted this and I don’t hold it against you.”

“You found me after that anyways. Even after I hurt you.” Potter whispered, eyes roaming. “You sent me your owl and it was a remembrance of what was here. It was a reminder that while I was drowning in responsibility, that reality was still waiting for me. That there really was an exit at the end of the tunnel of shite that my life was turning into.”

There was a pause as Potter grinned ruefully. “Don’t die. What a morbid note but a demand nonetheless. I’m still here, I’m still breathing.”

Draco wasn’t sure what to say. The realm of possibilities had past quite some time ago. This was turning into a conversation that he had never imagined happened.

“Thank you.” Whispered Potter, eyes being far kinder than Draco deserved to witness. “I’m not sure about the reason behind these gifts.” Draco looked down at his hands, not willing to own up to anything.

“I know what I would like for it to all mean.” The sound of his footsteps coming closer had Draco’s throat constricting.

“But Malfoy, I can’t accept this last gift.”

Draco snapped his head up, eyes narrowing angrily.

“I can’t take your owl from you.” Potter lifted up the note gently. “For you.” The man whispered softly. “I have had seven years of gifts from you but haven’t returned the favor. I think that’s pretty rude of me, don’t you?”

There was a teasing glint to the man’s eyes and that was the only thing keeping Draco’s sanity. “Now that you mention it…”

Potter grinned widely, taking the last few steps until there was only inches separating them.

“Your owl belongs with you.” Draco looked through his lashes, gaining confidence from the way Potter swallowed thickly. “I miss Hedwig more than I can properly express, but it would hurt more to take this one from you.”

Draco took a shaky breath when a hand tenderly cupped one of his cheeks.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to a joint custody.” Draco whispered, meeting green eyes that were smiling in a way that he hadn’t seen since before the war.

A joyful laugh had Draco’s heart skipping a beat. “I can do that.” Potter whispered, face leaning forward, eyes asking permission.

Patience wasn’t Draco’s strong suit. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Potter’s neck and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss. Belatedly, he realized that Russet had flown away the moment they touched but he was too distracted by Potter’s mouth. This wasn’t calm, sweet or gentle. How could it? Not when this had been building for years. Not when Draco had been imagining this very moment far longer than he would care to admit. Not when Potter was holding him tightly, hands roaming along his back and low mewls leaving his mouth.

“That was the best gift I have ever been given.” Draco whispered against smiling lips.

The sound of Russet flying up above them; hooting happily and wings flapping rapidly had Draco sighing happily.

Who needed gifts when he already had everything he could possibly want?

#Drarry #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #harry x draco #draco x harry #Gifts #Draco is a sweetheart #Also in denial #This was a prompt

2K notes · View notes

sugasgrowl · 6 years

Text

Simple

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1344

Warnings: Swearing and brief mentions of sex.

I think I’m going to start posting shorter little oneshots and updating more frequently. I write A LOT every day with friends, but I never think to post any of the drabbles I write????? Anyway, I decided to write this one because the idea of Yoongi being nervous to propose makes me wanna combust. Enjoy.

@dailydoseofdia @ellieljade @inktae @jeonjagiya

The four of you make me want to be a better writer :’)

It had been three weeks since Yoongi bought the ring. Three weeks since he dragged Hoseok and Jin with him to the jewelry store and stared at bright and shiny things until he felt like his eyeballs would fall out. He wasn’t even one hundred percent sure he found the right one because after a while everything started to look the same. Thankfully, he ended up choosing wisely.

He spent hours and hours trying to plan out the perfect night that ended in him getting on one knee and asking you to spend the rest of your life with him.

He had already brought up marriage to you two other times, only for you to say no because you felt like he wasn’t serious about it--granted, he hadn’t invested in a ring either of those times. He had also been piled up to his neck with work in the studio. Regardless, the thought of you shooting him down for a third time made him want to dive headfirst out of his apartment window.

To Yoongi’s dismay, the night that he finally got the guts to pop the question, he got nervous. So nervous, in fact, that every time he tried to speak, nothing would come out. He stood there like a deer in headlights for a good minute and a half until you stepped close enough to wrap your arms around his neck, sending him that gentle and disarming smile of yours.

In the end, the only thing he was able to do was kiss you. Since the portion of his brain that controlled his speech had suddenly turned to mush, he had no other way to express his feelings other than to pour his all into first base. Though he cursed himself for chickening out, he didn’t mind the direction it went.

The two of you very quickly ended up skin to skin and panting into each other’s mouths. That was a language he was more than familiar with--lights turned low, his hips rolling into yours in a slow grind, and whispering how much you loved each other as you bit back moans of pleasure. You made love until the wee hours of the morning and both of you were spent and fighting sleep.

It was when Yoongi woke the next morning that he realized that your love wasn’t the type for a fancy proposal. You had never been the “wine and dine” type of couple. You were simple. You enjoyed simple moments together and always had, so why was he trying to make the proposal so complicated?

As you lay sleeping, he carefully leaned over to open the drawer to his bedside table and pull out the ring box.

Small, square, and covered in black velvet. It seemed out of place in his hand, but he knew that inside it was a ring that you would appreciate. Shiny and bright just like your eyes.

Yoongi lay admiring the ring for what felt like an eternity. Turning it over and over in his fingers, he watched the way it glittered in the early morning sun. It was strange to him that something so material and so small could symbolize so much to a relationship.

You snored softly in his arms as he examined the ring, your slow breaths fanning out across his bare chest. He smiled down at you as you whimpered in your sleep. He silently chuckled and comfortingly smoothed your wild bedhead. He loved you. He wanted forever with you. Forever is a long time, but the idea of forever with one person didn’t seem so scary and so eternal when you were the person who would be by his side.

Yoongi bit back a smile as your tired body stretched in his hold and nuzzled itself deeper into him.

A contented sigh slipped from your lips, and he barely felt the flutter of your lashes against his skin. He knew you were awake, but didn’t quite have the energy to speak or move or do anything but exist. He loved when you were in that hazy place between being asleep and awake.

After a few, your arms tightened around him, “That’s a beautiful ring.”

He didn’t miss the feeling of your cheeks raising against him.

He raised the open ring box with a shy smile and nodded, looking down at your sleep swollen face, “I think so too.”

You stayed there, skin to skin and half asleep, for god knows how long.

Yoongi planted a kiss against the top of your head, “I love you so much, you know that?”

“I love you too. More than you’ll ever know,” you kissed his lips, his chin, his cheek. He thrived in your affection, “You’re the love of my life.”

Yoongi’s soft cheek rested against the top of your head, and he used one hand to maneuver the ring out of its box. He held it up, inspecting it on its own.

“Can I?” you softly asked. You had a stray eyelash resting on your cheek and red marks from the creases in the sheets tracking across your skin. You looked so beautiful.

Yoongi nodded, “It’s yours.”

You gingerly took it between your fingers, shifting it to watch the way it shone in the sunlight. You held it closer to read the tiny letters engraved on the inside of the band.

“Heaven on earth?” you read aloud, grinning sleepily and looking up at him. “You fuckin’ sap.”

He smiled bashfully and limply covered your face with his wide palm, “Shut up, I wanted to be romantic for once.”

You slid the ring onto your finger and wiggled them all against Yoongi’s chest, “It’s perfect.”

He showered your forehead with kisses, “I’ve had it for almost three weeks. The timing never felt right. I wanted to...do something bigger, more special. But I couldn’t decide on anything.”

He took your hand in his and looked at the way the ring sat.

“I got this one because the diamonds reminded me of the stars,” he kissed your knuckle.

“That’s why I engraved that, too. Our first date when we went stargazing after we left the record store. I nearly froze my ass off, but you wanted to stay a little longer,” he chuckled in nostalgia. “Five years later and I still see the stars in you. You’re like my little...my little heaven on earth.”

You beamed up at him, a hand snaking up his neck to cup his cheek.

“Will you marry me?” he breathed. It came out as a whisper, and he silently felt a part of himself die. He didn’t like feeling all nervous and weak and soft, but you had that effect on him. He hoped his eyes weren’t as wide as he felt like they were.

You nodded and bit your lip, eagerly crashing your lips to his. He accepted your kiss with bated breath. Though he knew you loved him and wanted to marry him, it was still nerve wracking. “I love it,” you smiled against his lips. “I love it and I love you.” “So you’re finally saying yes?” his brows raised in surprise. You giggled and let your head fall against his chest, swatting lightly at the pale skin. “Of course, you asshole.” He grinned, "Hey, I might be an asshole, but I'm your asshole." You nodded excitedly before holding up your left hand, “Forever now. You’re stuck with me.” He chuckled, his voice deep and gravelly from the morning, “That’s the point.” He kissed you on the temple, lips smiling into the brief kiss, “You’re gonna be a beautiful bride. If you even want a real wedding. We can always go to the courthouse—“ “No,” you interrupted, admiring the ring and looking up at Yoongi with earnest eyes. “Let’s celebrate. We’ve seen too much shit not to. Most people said both of us are too mean and crabby for anyone to love us for eternity, so it’ll be a big fuck you.”

Yoongi simpered, too elated to conjure up a witty response, “I can’t wait.”

#yoongi fluff #yoongi fic #bts fic #bts fluff #yoongi drabble #bts drabble

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imaginexmeintheuniverse · 6 years

Text

Merry Anniversary

A lovely anon requested: hi! I think youre doing drabbles or headcannons?? I feel so stupid cause I don’t know what difference 😩. anyqways i’d love a fix where it’s the reader and Mac’s first anniversary together and they have no idea what to get each other?? Thank you! If you’re not taking requests pls ignore this.

Pairing: Angus MacGyver x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1, 411

Tags: @coltcas

Masterlist | Christmas Drabbles | Part 2

A/N: It's a Christmas Anniversary ayeee! (kinda turned into a oneshot oops) Perhaps a part 2 for New Year's eh? *raises a Canadian eyebrow*

Christmas is stressful enough as it is. All the dinner plans, get togethers, and the gifts—the purchasing of the gifts is enough to make you weep over your bank account, but the mere choosing of the said gifts is a process that drives you absolutely nuts.

As a matter of fact, shopping for any type of gift is a stressful process; the pressure you feel increasing as you try to find the perfect present before the deadline. Now combine Christmas with your first year anniversary that results in the insanity that is finding the perfect thing to give a certain paperclip fiddler.

You already put a pack of paperclips in his stocking as soon as he had them put up, one for every team member, and he's been using them to make the cutest ornaments. Every day before and after work, he makes one of his little sculptures and adds it to the tree in his living room. You pretty much haven't slept in your own apartment for the whole month, and since he always wakes up before you do, he'll leave the little ornament on the night table for you to hang.

All this to say, you have the world's sweetest boyfriend which only adds to the pressure of getting him the perfect present.

The traditional gift for the first anniversary of a couple is something made of paper, so you wrote him letters every day this month, but you still wanted to give him something more. Mac would be overjoyed with anything you give him, simply because as mentioned earlier, he's the sweetest, so you just give him anything. You decide that it's time to ask for advice. So you call up Riley.

Now Mac on the other hand, might actually be even more of a mess than you are.

"I'm serious, Jack, she's probably going to get me the world's best Christmas-slash-first-anniversary present and I have no idea what to get her," Mac rambles on, pacing back and forth in Jack's living room, who is currently sitting on the couch watching Mac in awe because the man who always has an idea, is stumped.

"So you mean to tell me," Jack starts, still baffled by the situation. "That you can build bombs out of pizza boxes in less than a minute, but you can't think of anything to get Y/N?"

"I can't just get her anything," He stops pacing and turns to Jack. "It's Y/N; it has to be perfect."

"You really like her don't you?" Jack smirks, never thinking he'd see Angus MacGyver fall so hard for someone.

"I love her, and this is our first anniversary— and our first Christmas as a couple."

For once, Mac is the one who's worried when he sees a light bulb being lit above Jack's head. "Well, I think I might have a few ideas."

"Oh. My. God."

"What?" You turn to Riley who's not even trying to pick her jaw off her keyboard. You practically have to shake her by the shoulders-- which you do to get her attention. "What- what did you find?!"

Riley had hacked his bank records or something else that was probably totally illegal to find out what he was getting you. Whatever it is, it must be amazing because she's just gawking at her computer. Before you get a chance to take a look at the screen she closes the top down.

"Riley, what did he get me? I need to know!"

"You'll never believe it!"

"So tell me!"

"Sorry, can't do that," she denies you with a knowing smile. "But I just know you're going to love it."

"Well that sure makes my job a whole lot easier," you deadpan shooting her a glare before slumping back in your seat.

"Come on, you know Mac better than anyone; I'm sure you can think of something."

Spinning around in the office chair, you let out a defeated sigh when something catches your eye. A yellow sticky note with a cute message is on your door from when Mac left it there weeks ago. Suddenly, it hits you. "What does Mac love more than anything?" You ask rhetorically as you stand from your seat so fast, it make Riley jump in hers.

"Uh... You?" Your cheeks warm up at the sound of Riley's answer.

You try again, "What's something Mac loves to do?"

"Uh... You?" she repeats with an eyebrow raised and cheeky grin.

You laugh, and she groans as you grab her hand and start dragging her out of her seat.

When Mac woke up on Christmas morning, you were nowhere to be found. His first instinct was to panic and pull together all the resources he could to find you, but then his phone buzzed with a cryptic message telling him to check under the Christmas tree.

There, he found the first letter you wrote to him, on the first of December, along with a sticky not bearing a clue hinting for him to go to your favorite bookstore and paperclip sculpture of your own— not that it was as expertly crafted like the ones he made, but to him it was perfect. He pocketed your masterpiece and embarked on an adventure that would take him all over the city of Los Angeles, to find the rest of the letters with puzzles he'd have to solve to get the next clues.

That's right. You made him go to 25 different locations that mean something to you and made him solve puzzles to get the next clue.

Now here he is, at the first place you met, which is where the last note told him to meet you. As he walks through the same doors he walks through every day, and although this may be where the two of you work every day, it sure as hell doesn't look the same. In fact, he's tempted to pinch himself to make sure he isn't dreaming.

There you are, standing in the middle of the room in a red dress. You're waiting for him under the mistletoe and he's pretty sure that the rest of the world has ceased to exist.

"I'm not sure whether I should say 'Merry Christmas' or 'Happy Anniversary'," you say as he makes his way to you. "Merry Anniversary?"

"I love you," is all he responds before his hands place themselves on your back and press you to him, pressing his lips to yours. Your heart swells with joy, and bliss, and every other cheesy noun associated with happiness and Mac is pretty sure that his grows three sizes.

But Christmas wouldn't be the same with the rest of your family, so the rest of the team runs in, crushing the both you in a cliché group hug. When the group disperses, and people start eating and conversing, Mac pulls you to the side.

"Merry Christmas," you beam at him. He takes your face in both hands and captures your lips with his in a short, but passionate kiss.

Remembering why he pulled you to the side in the first place, he reaches into his pocket to grab the little box he had kept with him all day long. Both shock and an overwhelming amount happiness laces itself in every muscle in your body. He opens the box to reveal a shiny key.

Not that you were expecting a proposal, because after all, you hadn't move in together yet— hence the key and a year wasn't really that long... Was it?

"Would you move in with me?" he asks, now a little nervous that he might have made a mistake and unsure about the next course of action is you were to tell him 'no'.

Either way, you were more than happy that he would want to live with you which was another step closer to what you may or may not be hoping for.

"Of course I'll move in with you," you smile, winding your arms around his neck and pushing yourself up on your toes to place a soft peck to his lips.

"Happy anniversary, Y/N."

Although he shouldn't, he smiles to himself at the barely noticeable hint of disappointment in your features. He knows you love that he's asking you to take the next step in your relationship, but that seeing the little black box might have sparked a hope for something more. That same something he was planning on saving for New Year's.

#macgyver #macgyver x reader #angus macgyver x reader #maybe macgyver #angus macgyver #angus macgyver imagine #potatowrites #christmas drabbles #anniversary #merry anniversary #macgyver cbs #requested #macgyver oneshot #oneshot

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afanofmanystuffs · 6 years

Text

Yellow Y’all!

This is an update on all my writing stuff. Participation requested!

So, I reminded myself that I had a shitload of things sitting around. And they need to be posted. So, I found time in my busy, busy life to take a look. I have so many!!!

So, first of all, I'd like to announce a new drabble series: Editor's Elysium!

You're an assistant editor, and you've recently managed to get a promotion to be work under Castiel, the erotica editor who is purported to be able to fix anything and turn it into something on the New York Times Bestseller list. And along with you, he's gotten a new job: Angels, Demons and Everything In-Between (working title), by Dean Winchester. You soon remember that editing can be a fun, frustrating, and sometimes futile job, but whatever it is, Castiel is the best editor you've ever worked under. (Drabble series, implied Castiel x Reader, because it's me, duh. All tales here are strictly fictional, of course, and really have no basis in reality. Really, why would you think that?)

Now, the next part is where you all come in! I need votes! I have 7 WIPs/drabbles that I can finish and post.

(This got long so everything else is under the cut!)

Here are the contenders:

A Purgatory Cas X Reader fic, a oneshot that involves dirty fucking (idea).

Casifer X Sam X Reader threesome (The Devil and His Vessel)- Lucifer, since taking up the vessel of Castiel, is determined to outshine Sam in every way possible- including pleasuring you. (1200 words written, probably a oneshot).

ABO Castiel X Reader crack (Prompt: Vibrator malfunction)- 460 word drabble. Needs last sentence.

'These Are My Favorite Things' SPN version. I have three verses written and am planning to record and release it if I can find a musical accompaniment!

Dean X Reader and Castiel X Reader two or three part miniseries. Dean knows how much you like Cas but still baits you about it on a drunken night. Cas, of course, finds out. (I'm not as into this series but if everyone's into it I guess I could write it).

Dom/Sub Castiel X Reader- Castiel comes home angry, and falls back on the structure of his relationship with you. 925 words written, maybe about 1/3 done. NSFW oneshot, my take on showing a healthy D/S relationship.

Porn Star AU Castiel x Reader - Series. You and Castiel are some of the biggest names in the industry, but have never worked together before... Until now, when you're both offered to come shoot a sex on the beach movie on location. Your stay starts off with a bang as you meet a handsome stranger the first night you're there, and only gets more complicated as the shoot is forced to be extended while a tropical storm blows through. Will you and your costar ever be able to work together professionally? Obviously NSFW, 90 words written. Mostly still an idea.

I'd also like to announce that I'm planning on doing audiofics- the audiobook equivalent of my fics, and also any other fics (by other authors, with permission) by request. I am actively taking requests for which fic I should do first.

Now, I have more plots sitting around (including the Fallen Angel AU, featuring Dark!Cas and the Fantasy AU, featuring polyamory), but I think this is enough for now.

I also have the next part of Falling is Flying ready to go, sans editing. I just haven't had time. I also have one more part of The Cabin to write, edit, and publish, whenever I get to that, and I can post the last two parts. Hopefully I can manage that by the end of the year.

Please tell me the two WIPs you'd like me to go forward on first! All of these should eventually be posted, but if left to my own devices it's gonna be a really long time. Don't be afraid to pester me!

Tag List:

Please let me know if you’d like to removed, added, or switched to any of my tag lists!

The Cabin tags:

@kdfrqqg

Official tags:

@scarletluvscas @tornadoecat @bloodstained-porcelain-doll @greenappleeyes @wheresthekillswitch @goldenangelbloodcastiel @sparklingcas @peculiarlyrene @webcricket @kristendansmith

Unsolicited tags:

@lucifer-in-leather @archangel-with-a-shotgun @bkwrm523 @kittenofdoomage @pinknerdpanda @splendidcas @willowing-love @castiel-knight-of-hell @luciferismyhomeboy @mysteriouslyme81 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @charlie-bradcherry @just-a-touch-of-crowley @mrswhozeewhatsis @lipstickandwhiskey @thegreatficmaster @impala-dreamer @vintagevalentinexx @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @winchestersnco @rowdyhooliganism @purgatoan @roxy-davenport @ilostmyshoe-79 @castiellover @gneisscastiel @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @haven3333

Personal tags:

@mate-im-captain-jack-sparrow @ferid-trash-bathory @devilscharismatic @unlock-the-soul @silvie111

#writing #update #series #vote #wip #wips #afanofmanystuffs writes #afanofmanyarts writes #cas x reader #castiel x reader

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