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charzard-lord · 2 years

Text

Soothing Touch (Platonic!Avengers/Reader, implied Loki/Reader)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Fluff, comfort, language, slight pining

Pairings: Platonic!Avengers/Reader (with a focus on Bucky, Tony, and Natasha), implied Loki/Reader

Key: ☁️🧸🤝☂️

Summary: Whenever one of the Avengers is feeling down or in need of affection, they come to you for comfort. Everyone agrees that you have the most soothing touch. You will stroke their hair and sing/hum for them and it always helps them to relax. It has become a regular occurrence in the building, and sometimes, they will even fight over who gets to cuddle with you first. Loki is also quietly in love with you, but never acts on his feelings.

A/N: Hello! Almost a month again with no new posts! I know, I’m terrible at keeping up with this blog. I just haven’t really been inspired lately, but hopefully I’ll be posting more frequently. I have a few other fics in the works but hey! This is my first Marvel fic! So that’s exciting! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this fluffy little piece and thank you as always for interacting with my fics! :)

Today has been long and gruelling for everyone.

You and the rest of the team drag yourselves into the tower, exhausted from your most recent mission. Your enemies seemed more viscous than ever. You couldn’t wait to jump into your plush mattress and sleep for the next 15 hours.

As soon as you enter the tower, everyone retires to their respective rooms, except for one. You notice that Bucky has stayed behind, throwing himself onto the living room sofa. Even though you’re tired, curiosity wins the battle, and you find yourself walking towards him.

“Hey,” you say softly. Bucky grunts in response and you lower yourself into the seat next to him. A moment passes before you speak again.

“Is everything alright?” you can sense that something is bothering him, but you don’t want to overstep your boundaries. You’ve gotten pretty close with everyone in the building, but Bucky is more reserved than the others.

Instead of answering, he pulls you flush to his chest and wraps his arms around your back, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You’re surprised at first, but quickly melt into his touch, smiling fondly. You stroke his hair and hum quietly.

This is not unusual for you. In fact, it’s become the norm around here. Whenever one of the Avengers is feeling down, they always come to you for comfort. Sometimes, they even fight over who gets to cuddle with you first. They all claim you have the most soothing touch, the kind that could ease any pain.

You gladly comply every time, grateful that you’re able to offer your support. After all, they’re the people who took you in when you had nowhere else to go. You’ll do anything to return the favor.

You stay like this for a long while before Bucky finally releases you, pressing a tender kiss between your brows.

“Thank you,” he whispers, leaning his forehead against your own. You smile and close your eyes.

“Any time,” you reply, before moving away and standing.

“Well, I’m tired as fuck, so I’m gonna go hit the hay,” Bucky chuckles at your words.

“Don’t let Steve hear you say that,” he replies, and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever. Goodnight, Buck,”

“Goodnight, angel,”

With that, you retreat to your room and settle in for the night.

***

The next few days pass rather uneventfully. You haven’t had any missions so you’ve mostly been taking time to yourself, either to train or just relax. Today, you’ve decided to sit down and sketch in the living room. You have one of your favorite playlists on in the background, bopping your head along to the music as you doodle.

You hear the elevator doors open and look up to see that three of your teammates have returned from their most recent escapade. Something about a street robber. They didn’t think it serious enough to drag you along. Usually, they only brought you in for the really big missions. You were one of the team's most powerful assets and they wanted to save your skills for when they really needed them.

“Hello! We have returned! How are you doing on this fine day?” Thor addresses you, beaming widely. You return the gesture and stand, turning off the music. You look behind him to see a very disgruntled Loki and a less than pleased Natasha. Something must’ve happened.

“I’m doing alright. How about you guys? How did your mission go?” you say, eyeing Loki. He stares back and you can tell that something is weighing on his mind.

“Boring. Just some kid, stealing people’s wallets. He was only 16,” Nat says, walking to the fridge and grabbing an energy drink.

“Ah,” you reply, unsure what else to say.

“Right, well, Thor and I have to meet with Tony to discuss some business. You mind keeping an eye on Mr. Tricks?” you stifle a laugh at Nat’s nickname for Loki.

“Sure,” you nod, and the two walk off, leaving you alone with the God of Mischief.

You stare at each other for a moment before you burst into laughter, causing him to regard you incredulously.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just-” you stifle another laugh as you look up at him.

“Mr. Tricks?” you’re barely able to say it before you double over in a fit of giggles once more.

“It’s not that funny,” he mutters, but there is a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” you smile fondly, gently taking his hand and leading him to sit on the couch next to you.

It’s only been a little less than a year since the New York incident, so not many people fully trust him yet. He had been given a choice: either rot in a cell on Asgard, or help the Avengers as a form of community service to atone for his crimes. He chose the latter.

Loki looks around for a moment, as if to make sure the two of you are truly alone, before leaning closer to you.

“May I?” he asks, extending his arms.

“You may,” you reply, and he envelops you in a warm embrace.

He would never want anyone else to see him like this; he would be mortified. But you’re the one person he trusts in this whole compound, the only one who seems to see him for who he really is. He finds comfort in your touch, maybe a little too much comfort, but it’s comfort nonetheless.

He buries his face in your shoulder and inhales deeply, trying to embed your scent into his memory. It’s not often that he gets to hold you like this. The only times he can, are when the two of you are completely alone, which doesn’t happen very often.

It seems that everyone is always scrutinizing his every move, just waiting for him to make a mistake or do something that would allow them to lock him up forever. But now that he’s found you, he never wants to leave. Not that he’d ever admit that.

“Hey, I have an idea,” you say, and Loki pulls away to look at your face.

“And what’s that?” he asks, tenderly tucking a stray hair behind your ear. He revels in the way your cheeks flush at the simple action, wishing he could bottle up this moment and live in it forever.

You move away from him, eliciting a perplexed look from the god. Readjusting yourself, you lay on the chaise at the end of the sofa and beckon him to come over. He just looks at you, an eyebrow raised in uncertainty, causing you to chuckle softly.

“Come lay in my lap. I can stroke your hair and sing for you,” Loki can’t help the surprised squeak that escapes him, as a blush starts rising to his own cheeks.

“What?” his voice comes out a pitch higher than normal, but you don’t comment on it.

“I do this for the others all the time. They always say it helps them relax. C’mon,” you pat your lap and Loki can’t help the pang of jealousy he feels at your mention of the Avengers. He pushes it down, however, and manages to seat himself between your thighs, back pressed flush against your chest.

He closes his eyes and forces himself to relax as you begin running your delicate fingers through his long black hair. You hum softly, a beautiful melody that he recognizes but can’t quite place his finger on, and continue to lull him into a sweet slumber.

You can feel Loki’s presence getting heavier, his body relaxing more and more as he lets his full weight rest on you. A fond smile grows on your face. It makes you happy to know that he trusts you so completely. He has always been so guarded. It’s good that he finally feels safe with someone, and you’re infinitely grateful that that someone is you.

His breathing becomes deeper and you take this time to admire his sharp features. The curve of his jaw, the shape of his nose, the color of his lips. Everything about him is… bewitching. He is a god, after all, so you shouldn’t really be surprised, but his beauty still manages to take your breath away. When you first met him, you found it to be intimidating. But after getting to know him, you realized that he is just another lost soul looking to be found.

Just when you think Loki has finally relaxed fully, a crowd of voices can be heard getting closer. He quickly jumps up, removing himself from your lap and sitting as far away as possible. You giggle, causing him to shoot you a look, just as the rest of your teammates come around the corner.

Tony calls your name and you turn your attention to him.

“How was babysitting duty? Did ‘Mr. Tricks’ give you any trouble?” he asks, smirking as he watches Loki’s flustered reaction.

“Do not call me by that ridiculous nickname, you despicable cretin” he spits, standing and clenching his fists in anger.

“It was fine, Tony. No problems at all,” you say with a smile, hoping to diffuse some of the tension.

“Great! Now that that’s all settled, I need your magic touch,” he says, making his way over to you.

Loki steps in front of him, glaring fiercely.

“Is there a problem, ‘Mr. Tricks’?” Tony says, clearly just trying to get on the gods' nerves at this point.

Loki stares him down for a moment longer, before you reach out and place a gentle hand on his arm. He looks down, first at your hand, then over to you. He searches your face and something in his expression softens. He sighs, and steps aside, allowing Tony to pass through. With one last glance back at you, he briskly exits the room.

“I don’t know how you do that, but damn, is it effective,” Nat says, walking past Tony and crawling into your lap.

“Hey! I called first dibs!” Tony protests, but Nat doesn’t budge.

“First come, first serve,” she says simply, cuddling up closer to you. Tony looks to you for help, but you simply shrug your shoulders and begin stroking Nat’s hair, humming a new tune.

“C’mon! That’s not fair!” Tony whines, but you shush him.

“Be quiet. You’ll get your turn,” you smile teasingly at him. He keeps pouting silently, attempting to throw puppy eyes your way.

“Nuh-uh, not gonna work,” you say, turning your attention back to Natasha, who is already starting to fall asleep. A fond smile worms its way onto your features as you continue to run your fingers through her hair.

Eventually, she succumbs to her exhaustion, snoring softly. You let her rest for a few minutes. Then, you gently shake her.

“Nat,” you whisper, “it’s time to get up,”

She groans and buries her face into your stomach. You laugh.

“Nat, I’m serious. Other people are waiting their turn,” she just grumbles something incoherent and wraps her arms around your waist.

“Okay, I’m not waiting any longer,” Tony says, marching over and pulling out his phone. He types something in and before you can ask what he’s doing, AC/DC starts blasting throughout the tower.

Nat sighs before removing herself from your lap. She places a gentle kiss to your forehead as thanks, then turns to glare at Tony. He holds up his hands in defense as Nat grabs his phone and shuts off the music. She throws the device down onto the coffee table and drops herself into a chair next to Steve.

“Someone’s moody,” he mutters, turning his attention back to you with a smile.

“If you’re gonna be an asshole, I’ll let somebody else go first,” you warn, but Tony just shrugs it off, crawling onto the couch and laying his head against your chest. You shake your head, rolling your eyes as you begin the same treatment you gave Loki and Nat.

This continues until everyone has gotten a turn cuddling with you. By the time you finish, you’re exhausted and in desperate need of sleep.

“Thank you, again,” Nat says, and everyone makes noises of agreement. You smile and regard them all with fondness.

“Any time,” you say, and everyone retreats to bed.

#avengers x reader #marvel x reader #tony stark x reader #bucky barnes x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #thor odinson x reader #steve rogers x reader #fluff #comfort #marvel fluff #avengers fluff #fanfiction #reader insert #original work

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blueroses789 · 1 year

Text

I wish I could be stronger

Warnings:

Mental health issues

Smut

Angst

Domestic violence

next chapter: n/a

Chapter 22/

Anger is a poison to the heart: Chapter 22 (ps. Reader is as cuddly as an ice statue, so those of you used to nice Y/n, well, she's gone)

Decided that going to the mall was the last thing you wanted to do, called Mikasa to tell her. She sounded disappointed which made you feel annoyed. Didn’t she have other friends? And wasn’t your initial silence a clear signal you just wanted to be left alone? Plus you already had a dress for the Valentines day dance. The dance. You honestly didn’t want to go. But it felt callous to just leave Reiner in the dust. So you resolved to go.

You had spent the morning mindlessly doodling on a piece of paper. Today you had no desire for academics. Around 11:00 am hunger finally caught up to you. With a yawn and a stretch, it was off to the kitchen. To your dismay, Historia was sitting at the table. Despite the tension you were relieved that at least Ymir was not here. There was silence as cereal hit a bowl and the kettle whistled. You sat on a high chair in the kitchen. Almost done, you had thought Historia would leave you in peace. But it seemed the universe had other plans that day. As you put the dirty dishes in the sink the screech of a chair could be heard. Your stomach dropped as she walked towards you. After knowing Historia for several years, you could tell her mood solely based on her steps. This time the steps were heavy but fast, a sign she was angry and coming towards you with intent. So you turned to face her.

For a moment the two of you stared each other down. Historia had a slight angry flush on her cheekbones that she got whenever she was upset. “Well? I know you want to say something.” With no intention of beating around the bush, you just wanted to get this over with. “I get you don’t like Ymir but-” You chuckled. Historia winced. “My feelings go well beyond not liking her Historia.” A white-hot rage had bloomed in your chest, a bursting seed too heavy to stay contained any longer. And out of that seed came vines which wrapped themselves around you in their cruel embrace. It seized your organs, lungs, stomach, and heart. Breathing was becoming difficult, your stomach hurt beyond belief, but not worse than your heart. “Ymir harassed me for months and you just let it happen. Your disgusting Historia.” Her face turned a burning red. “Don’t you pin this on Ymir! I know what you’ve been up to.” This caught you off guard. “What?” “How you’ve been looking at me. Ymir told me all about it.” You were now totally confused. “How I’ve been looking at you?” Historia nervously looked at her feet. “I understand, but you have to stop. I’ve been with Ymir-” That was when you finally understood. It now made sense why she had been behaving like this for the past few months. You truly hated Ymir. So you took one decisive step towards her. “Historia, what did she say?” “That's none of your business.” “Oh, I think it is.” Historia finally met your eyes, here's a hard teal blue. “Why can’t you go after someone who is not taken? First Eren with Mikasa and now me.”

Your breathing came out like a drift of wind out of an empty cave. Ancient, steady, with all the mystery of time. You did not know why you suddenly felt calm, but there was a fury that steadied you. No one had ever believed you. First, it was Eren, now Historia, who had been your best friend. All it took was some girl Historia knew to derail a friendship that had endured for over a decade. In all the stories you had read, the protagonist was always able to prove themselves in the end. The bonds of friendship are what saved them. But you didn’t want to be saved. Maybe you just didn’t have that altruism or were just too tired. So you chose another option.

You leaned in so Historia could be able to properly hear you. “Now you listen to me very carefully. I have never, and will never, have any sort of interest in you. All Ymir saw was a stupid, empty-headed girl who she could use. That's all you are, so don’t pretend anyone will like you for who you are, because I certainly don’t.” When you pulled back there were tears flooding down Historia’s face. But you honestly would be lying if you said you cared. When had she ever cared, all the times you were hiding in your room, scared? You went back to drinking tea, and Historia left.

Reiner was nice and attractive. You had decided to go on a date before the Valentine’s day dance. You were actually pretty excited for this. You had never been on a date before. Even if it was something as simple as getting coffee, it didn’t sound so bad. In the end, you chose jeans and a cute red top. It snugly fitted your body and slopped, showing the top of your breasts. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you were actually surprised to find the reflection attractive. You wondered if you should wear makeup. Or maybe it was too much for a first date? In the end, you settled on simply settling on mascara and chapstick.

As you walked through the apartment you noticed Historia was not there. You wondered if she was in her room. It gave you satisfaction for Historia to feel the way you once did. Hiding in her room feeling utterly alone. With that, you felt the bond break.

Reiner got there first, sitting by the window inside. You gathered your courage, feeling nervous. The cafe was decently crowded, but not to the point of bursting. It was a relief because an empty one would make you nervous. When he saw you Reiner gave you a shy smile. At least you were not the only one who was nervous. It made you wonder if Reiner had ever been on a date before. “Hey.” You gave him a smile you hoped was charming. To your surprise, he stuck out his hand. You guessed Reiner was old-fashioned like that. You obliged, firmly. “So, how are you?” He asked. “I’m fine.” It wasn’t a lie, at least not in your eyes. In fact, you had never felt more free. You asked him how he was, to which Reiner said everything was good. Reiner was a good guy. The two of you simply talked about school and how you were liking your subjects. You knew he took the same business course as you these days. It was not a long one and in the end, you watched Reiner walked away. He had been kind enough to walk you home afterward. It felt like an accomplishment to do something you had never done before. Real fucking good.

As you walked into the apartment you noticed that Historia’s coat was missing. Her favorite pair of pink sneakers was missing as well. You felt sad. Not because you felt guilty. But because you did give a damn

Tag list:

@jaegersdiary

@didiyogo

@jeagersruletheworld

@maya3km

@casinorose

@erenjaegerwifee

@yellowowlet

#eren jeager #eren x mikasa #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren x reader #eren x reader smut #eren x reader fluff #eren #eren x reader angst #aot smut #snk smut #mikasa akerman #mikasa x reader #mikasa akerman x reader #historia x ymir #reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun #get ready for the angst and crack

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suitov · 1 year

Text

Tall.

Talllllll.

He'd waited a couple of months in case his growth spurt finally showed itself. (He was still optimistic, but why did it have to take so long?) He'd doodled the hearts in his notebooks, got hold of last year's yearbook just to see what that person looked like in their photo...

(Oddly enough, that'd been a wash. Though technically included, instead of a picture there was just an X and a note that this particular student had missed photo day owing to an accident.)

He'd made so many playlists. (He'd considered Cotton Eye Joe, but it was about a troublesome stud, and he didn't want to think of his... well, fine, call them a crush, might as well admit it... that way. It didn't seem nice.)

He thought he'd basically run down the list of things you were supposed to do when you liked someone from the year above. Obviously not including some of the things in Komaru's mangas, which he was pretty sure didn't happen in real life. He didn't want to become a yandere anyway! He just... well... wished senpai would notice him...

I really am so really, totally average and boring! he'd thought, and then, because feeling hopeless had never come easily to him, he'd decided to do something about it. Take action! Like a strong, macho, tall shounen hero!

So he'd slipped an anonymous note into their locker. Like a brave, tall, etc.

He peeped around the corner under cover of picking up an assortment of books, papers and sticker sheets scattered by a broken bag strap, which was an entirely believable occurrence. He'd had to wave off several kind classmates who wanted to help him.

Eventually, his target... no, bad word choice. His crush appeared. For some reason, there were sticking plasters all over his face and even a few bruises. He tried to do what Kyoko did and deduce what'd happened, but he must not be very good at it because he doubted the school would allow some kind of huge clawed predatory animal on campus, surely(?)...

But then his crush opened the locker, found and read the note, and did something totally unexpected.

His face, the same cute face seen in a hundred daydreams, crumpled. He covered his expression with a sleeve, as if ashamed to be seen with anything other than the habitual cute smile Makoto had been hoping for, and rushed away from his locker.

In Makoto's direction, as it happened. Right towards all the dropped -- oops! -- and tripped right on his face at his feet.

Not how Makoto had hoped to make a cute boy fall for him.

"N-Nagito! Are you okay?" The panic was, at least, enough to shatter his shyness.

Nagito let himself be helped up as far as his knees. "Sorry," he said, and seemed to be trying way too hard to sound normal. "How clumsy of me. Let me tidy these..."

"It's fine!" Makoto scooped up everything in some haste and shoved the crumpled collection back in his bag. "That wasn't even you... what's wrong?"

Nagito's cute, upset eyes, more green than grey under the fluorescent tubes, darted here and there. "Ah, just in a hurry to... deliver a note for someone." His hand, on his knee, clenched a familiar paper. "Which I'd better go and do before the next class starts! So if you'll accept my apologies for not paying more attention..."

Makoto could have let the excuse stand. He could let his senior save face. He could let it go.

And then he'd never know why his dumb love confession caused that moment of pure misery.

No! He couldn't let this go!

"Nagito, uh... could you please..." He hastily cracked open the nearest classroom door and, by luck, found it vacant. "...c-come in here for a minute!" Nagito definitely looked reluctant. "Please?" he said again, lamely, and plucked at his blazer sleeve.

"I..." Nagito seemed to be looking for an excuse. But maybe Makoto's pleading look (Celeste called it "perma-puppy-face", but that was wrong; he could be manly when he wanted!) had its effect. Because, without another word, he got up and followed him into the empty room.

"Let's sit down," Makoto said. He pulled a chair back towards the desk behind and straddled it in a mature and trustworthy manner. Nagito sank down at the desk without further protest.

And Makoto was stuck for anything else to say.

"I really must be a pathetic sight," murmured Nagito, "if even someone from the junior year was moved to take pity on me."

Makoto's head jerked up. "Hey! That's not true!"

"Ah... not pity, then. Reproach? Perhaps you're here to bully me?" The paper was whisked out of sight into a pocket. "Normally I'd be happy to oblige, of course... as long as you take it easy on my face, which has already taken its share of damage today. Did you want my lunch money? I have plenty, and I wasn't hungry anyway."

How was he supposed to react to this... frankly worrying kind of talk? Makoto showed his palms frantically. "No, no! I don't want... you're older and taller than me anyway! If anything, it's me who should still be finding you intimidating!"

Nagito was silent exactly like someone who had noticed the word "still" and was turning it over.

"That's not exactly what I meant," Makoto added, scratching his cheek self-consciously. "Listen, Nagito, I'm worried because it looked like you got upset by something. That's really all! I don't want to do anything to your face. Well, not, I mean... I don't want to beat it up, is what I mean!" Smooching might count as anything, but not right now.

"Well." That word managed to convey a great deal of skepticism and, oh dear, he really hoped Nagito wasn't judging him too hard, because the situation was only going to get awkwarder from here. "That's very kind. But, as I believe I explained, the unseemly hurry on my part was only because I didn't want to be late. So, if that's all?"

This kind of thing was definitely easier in Komaru's manga! The love interest would be pouring her or his heart out on the hero's dumb brown uniformed shoulder and he could go pat pat with his strong reassuring tall hands and declare that everything would be all right...

"It's just," said Makoto, drawing on all his heroic brave courageousness to get the words out, "that what it looked like, actually, um, was that you found a note in your locker that upset you."

He didn't miss the minute twitch of the hand towards the trouser pocket.

"And, uh, that was especially troubling, because it was the one who put m-- I mean, I was the one who put it there." He gave himself full points for gumption, B minus for getting the actual words out.

Unfortunately, Nagito's reaction was... actually more of a non-reaction? His expression closed off like a slammed locker door.

"Uh, Nagito?"

"Well. So you were here to bully me after all. Well played, Makoto Naegi. You truly had my guard down. A one-two punch worthy of the Ultimate Boxer himself." Nagito began to rise to his feet.

"Wait! Please!" Makoto clutched desperately for a sleeve. That had been that same completely unexpected reaction again. "I don't know what you think's happening, but you've got it wrong, Nagito. I'm not here to do anything horrible. Listen, I don't care if you're not into guys or not into me or whatever. I just don't want to see you hurt by some... some lame confession from some nobody..."

Nagito's beautiful eyes were narrowed. But he wasn't leaving just yet! Still a chance to mitigate the damage!

"You don't have to return my feelings, Nagito. I'm not under any illusion that I'm anyone who'd get noticed among all the amazing people here, especially you. Like, you probably get a lot of admirers and stuff, and I'm really not expecting anything from you, so... so please don't be sad or mad at me! I'm sorry for however I upset you!" He kind of wished he did have that puppy face like Celeste said. He'd puppy-eye the heck out of this disaster of a conversation.

Nagito extracted a crumpled fistful of paper from his pocket. He smoothed it out on the tabletop. His eyes, greyer than green but at least not hate-filled, scanned it up and down.

"Makoto. Are you saying," Nagito asked in a flat, lifeless voice without much hope in it, "that this is an honest representation of your feelings?"

"Well, yeah! Obviously... well, I wasn't completely sure how many Es there are in 'beauteous', but other than..." Something was scrabbling increasingly urgently at his scattered attention. "Hold it... are you sa... did you think that was fake?"

Nagito gave no reply.

"Oh my gosh, Nagito, why would you ever think that? When you're so beautiful and graceful and" tall so tall please ruffle my hair and let me kiss you on tiptoe "smart and everything? And you're so cool, you have zippers on your shoes and that wallet chain with the skull, and you even share my talent, except yours seems way cooler and... how am I supposed to not have a crush on you?"

There was a pause.

"It's generally written with an A and two Es, not three," said Nagito.

"Oh. Uh. Sorry."

"Uh." Nagito bit a fingernail. It didn't look like the first time the nail had been bitten.

Is he blushing? If only those bandages weren't hiding half his face...

"I think," said Nagito, "that I have made an entirely characteristic mess of this conversation."

Makoto's laugh startled them both. "That's exactly what I was thinking a minute ago..."

"Right. Uh. Well. I'm sorry that I... all of that. I shouldn't have unloaded on you that way."

"It's fine. It's okay." Though I still don't know why he'd think... that... "Did someone play a trick like that on you before, or...?"

Nagito winced. "It just seemed the obvious conclusion at the time."

What's this guy been through if that was the obvious conclusion? "Well, like I said, it's--"

Out in the hallway, the bell rang.

"--aw, darn. And I didn't even get to ask... um. Would you be okay with talking again later? Find me at lunch? I'm usually with Mondo and Chihiro."

"Huh." Nagito blinked twice. "You actually want to hold a second conversation with me."

"More than two, I hope!" Makoto insisted.

"Hope..." Nagito smiled like he'd said something funny. He didn't get it, but the smile was the important thing. "I'll... speak to you later, then, Makoto Naegi."

"Yay!" Makoto bounced on his seat. "I mean yesss! I mean, uh... yeah, that'd be... cool. Yeah." He beamed toughly at the pretty, pretty guy.

With a shake of his beautiful head, Nagito left the room.

I... I just...

"I just talked to my crush and he doesn't completely hate me, yeeeeah!" Makoto leapt up, danced around and crashed over when his shoelace promptly tied itself around the chair leg.

"You saw nothing," he said to the desk. The desk, cowed by his tallness, said nothing at all.

#makoto naegi #komaegi #nagito komaeda

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mydemonsdrivealimo · 1 year

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Fanfic ask: 14 and 15 😊

14. a fic you didn’t expect to write

honestly? all of the open heart ones. i have been a fan of open heart since chapter 1 released, and i played all the way through the end. i never thought there was a fandom, nor such a devoted one, and it never even occurred to me to look

with that being said, at the time of the books, i had come into a very pretentious group, and an interest like choices wouldve been made fun of relentlessly. ive now realized that a lot of that fear that people would find it reflected internally, to the point where i mustve avoided thining about it outside of just playing it.

i was/am very active in another fandom, and i was working on a lot of original stories, so it wasnt really an outlet i needed at the time. as i became bored with those things, open heart always sorta crept up on me. a few doodles of characters always managed to end up in my sketchbook, but by then i was doing full pages of them and starting to write little drabbles. that was when i started writing so ill just paint it chrome, and decided to check out the ao3 community to see if anything was there, and look into tumblr for fanart.

clearly i found some things asdfghjk, and decided to finally go through with all those fic ideas i had sitting around that i never thought would be worth getting into

15. something you learned this year

oh so many things, both socially, academically, and more. some of my biggest personal accomplishments are around art and how much ive improved and learned over the year. specifically, ive learned to render and use contrast much more in my art, primarily because of the open heart fandom with of how many pieces ive been making in the last few months

#ty for the ask <3 #asks answers

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trashinaglass-archive · 2 years

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Just for Us

Request: Heyyy I saw you were looking for requests.. mine is for Chris Evans, how about they both star in the MCU and after all those years reader and Chris get into a relationship and keep it secret for awhile but then decide it’s time the others should know before the media find out first :) Maybe Seb and Mackie could admit they had a bet on it as one of the reactions?

A/n: I just checked my drafts and found this. Thought I posted it months ago, but here it sat. So sorry about that. Just another reason that I’m the worst 🥰 Also, didn’t do much editing so sorry if it sucks

I have this weird guilt of replacing anyone from the MCU, even fictionally lol, so random original character thrown in.

Conventions were the best and the worst. It was incredible getting to meet and interact with so many fans, but it was so many fans. It was difficult sometimes, going on for so long with so few breaks. You picked up your pen as someone asked Tom a question about his upcoming Spider-Man movie, and began doodling, drawing Tom as a spider getting chased by Anthony and Sebastian, who continually pick on him. It only made sense.

Chris looked over at the paper in front of you, chuckling softly at it, but not getting the opportunity to say anything about it. “My question is for y/n and Chris! Your two characters seem to be getting pretty close,” the fan pointed out as she looked to you and Chris, who was sat next to you for the panel. “Is there any chance we’ll see some Maya x Steve action sometime soon?” The crowd roared with oooh’s as she finished the question.

Chris threw his hands out in a shrug, turning to look at you with his arm slung across the back of your chair. You could only shrug, not knowing what else you could say either. “One of the most frustrating parts of this job is that so much is a secret, even to us. I honestly have no idea what’s in store for Maya and Steve.”

“But it really wouldn’t hurt my feelings, if we’re throwing it out there,” Chris joked.

“Mmm,” you hummed, pretending to think. “I don’t know, I think I’d pick Bucky if I got to chose.”

The audience screamed at your answer as Chris threw his hands up in confusion, as if asking what’s wrong with me. You leaned over to wrap your arms around his neck in a hug, your head leaning against his as you laugh. “I’m just joking.”

“Ay, you can’t have Buck nasty anyways. He’s mine,” Anthony butted in, nodding his head confidently.

Sebastian shook his head, “Bucky already has an intimate relationship with his trauma.” His eye brow raised as one should shrugged up to his ear. The rest of the panel moved on, asking question after question until time had finally run up and you all broke for lunch.

“I love doing these conventions and all, but I swear the day moves by so slow,” you whine as you drop onto the couch Chris and Sebastian were sitting at, your head leaning against Chris’s shoulder.

Anthony let out a laugh as he sat in an adjacent chair, “I’d argue it moves too damn fast. You know, like what the hell just happened out there? I don’t fucking know.”

“Words,” you said simply. “Too many of them.” The boys laughed and agreed before beginning to talk about something that happened in a separate panel with just Mackie and Sebastian. You took it upon yourself to get comfortable, curling up next to Chris. It had been an early morning and you were too exhausted to care what any on lookers thought.

You felt Chris’s head turn as he looked down at you. “You okay?” He asked in a whisper, a hand resting on your knee. You only nodded in reply.

“You comfy over there, y/n?” Mackie asked, his voice raised in a slightly teasing tone.

You laughed quietly and nodded again. “I could use a blanket though,” you requested, knowing there was one on the other side of Sebastian.

Anthony glanced at it then back at you, and suddenly that mischievous gleam in his eyes, that you had gotten to know well in your years of knowing him, shined bright. “If only there was someone that cared about you and how cold you are,” he continued to tease.

Chris let out a breathe through his nose, knowing where his friend was headed but didn’t say anything. You could feel his body leaning as he stretched his arm out, grabbing the blanket off the furniture and draping it over you best he could.

“Oh, would you look at that. How sweet. What a nice man,” Anthony continued, looking back at you. “Isn’t Chris such a nice man.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back the giggle in your throat. “The nicest man.”

“But there are plenty of other nice guys, I’m sure,” Sebastian added, subtly looking back and forth between you and Mackie. “Do you talk to some other nice guys?”

You looked up at Chris, finally understanding what they were hinting at, and gave him a just tell them look. “You sure? It seems to be killing them not to know,” he joked.

“So it’s true!” Mackie exclaimed excitedly, leaning forward in his chair. Both of them looked as if they were watching an intense football game and one team was close to winning it all. You couldn’t believe how obsessed they seemed to be.

Chris laughed. “We’ve been dating for about a year and a half now,” he said nonchalantly.

“I knew it,” Anthony yelled, as he stood up, pointed at Sebastian who sat with his hands thrown up in the air. “You owe me twenty, dog.” Chris threw his head back in laughter as you sat up, your jaw slack in shock.

“You had a bet!?”

Sebastian put his hands up in surrender. “He was convinced you guys were dating. I said you were just close friends, and it just happened, I don’t know.”

“It just happened,” you repeated sarcastically.

“Why did y’all hide it anyways?” Mackie asked as he sat back down, looking between you and Chris.

“Easier,” Chris shrugged. “Trying to get through all that new dating stage and figuring all that out. It’s just easier to do on your own than to have everyone talking.”

You nod in agreement, “and if it ended up not working out, there wasn’t any reason for anyone to make it weird.”

Sebastian scoffed dramatically. “As if we would make anything awkward.” You hold back your laugh but smile, looking between the three men surrounding you.

“You just interrogated me. You definitely would have made it weird in some way,” you laughed.

“It’s called being fun,” Anthony defended as he walked away, a teasing smirk still lingering on his face. “But I won’t tell anyone. Promise!”

The three of you watched as he walked away before turning back. “Who do you think he’s going to tell?” You ask, knowing him better than that.

“Well, Tom did say something about having a crush on you in an interview a while ago, so he’s probably going to tease the kid about it,” Sebastian theorized. “And if he does, I’m not missing it. See you guys in a bit.” He raised his hand in a small wave as he stood up and followed where Mackie left, leaving the two of you alone.

You lean back into the couch with your back leaning against Chris, the back of your head resting against his shoulder. “Wonder if they’ll ever leave that kid alone,” you think out loud.

“Probably never, if I know them well enough.” Chris looked down at you with a smile as you turned your head to look back at him. Your eyes closed as he placed a soft kiss to your forehead, his head leaning against that spot as you sit there in silence. It was a rare occasion on promo days, so you soaked in for as long as you could before you were called for the next panel.

#Chris evans #chris evans blurb #chris evans x reader #chris evans oneshot #chris evans imagine

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jostystyles · 2 years

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the four times he almost said it and the one time he did | cm

a/n: it's finally here! this is my submission for @antoineroussel 's winter fic exchange! thank you so much for putting this together demi, your hard work doesn't go unnoticed! although this took me way longer than i'd have liked it to to get out, here she is! my first cale fic and my first fic using gender neutral pronouns. @gravestrain , I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it! as always friends, feedback is much appreciated xx

word count: 3.4k

the first time

The first time he almost said it, he was about to leave for Denver. Cale had been at UMass for almost a whole year, and he’d done it all: got drafted, started school, and scored his first collegiate goal.

He also fell in love.

Cale and (Y/N) met in class at the start of freshman year. He was in a new country, a new school, and the only friends he had were the guys on the hockey team. As a psych major, he had to take a few intro classes so he figured he’d make some friends there.

Cale arrived at class about 10 minutes early, because he hated being late and was anxious about getting a seat. When he walked into the lecture hall, he was met with quite a few kids who had the same idea. Blue eyes darting around the room, his eyes landed on someone before his body took him in the direction of them. He sat down in the tiny desk, flashing a tight lipped smile towards the person next to him, cheeks glowing red as their (Y/E/C) eyes met his. Cale’s heart began to beat a mile a minute, and he reached into his bag to pull out a notebook and a pen. He rummaged through the pockets, before remembering the new pack of pens was still sitting on his desk in his dorm.

Shit. He thought to himself. With no other choice, he turned towards the person next to him. Clearing his throat, he spoke up: “Um, excuse me?”

They looked up from the notebook they’d been doodling in, eyes wide and a brow arched before responding, “Yeah, what’s up?”

Shyly, Cale rubbed the back of his neck before asking, “I know this is like, the most idiotic thing to do on the first day of class, but do you think I could, um, borrow a pen?”

The sweetest laugh he’d ever heard was elicited from that statement. Reaching down into their backpack, they pulled out a pen before replying. “Sure thing, no problem. Here.”

Cale took the pen and uttered a shy reply: “Thanks, uh, I’m Cale.”

Tossing a stray strand of hair out of their face, his classmate responded “I’m (Y/N). Are you a freshman?”

“Yeah. Psych major, you?”

“Minor. Majoring in Social work actually. Are you on the hockey team here?”

Cale furrowed his eyebrows in question. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

(Y/N) giggled. “You’re, um, wearing a shirt that says ‘UMass Hockey.”

Glancing down at his shirt, he was met with the words they just spoke. He felt his cheeks grow redder.

“Oh. Uh, yeah I do.”

“You’re a funny kid, Cale. I think we’ll make great friends.”

And make great friends the did.. As the semester went on, Cale and (Y/N) grew much closer. They spent hours together in the library studying for exams, and at each other's dorms just to hang out. It got to the point where they started to just mesh friend groups, which meant that (Y/N) was most usually in the crowd for all of Cale’s games with the rest of their friends.

And as the year passed, Cale couldn’t help but feel himself start to feel something much stronger than friendship for (Y/N). From the way they looked in the stands wearing his sweatshirts, to the way they’d come to him each month and ask what color to paint their nails.

Cale thinks he was in love.

As summer came along and he returned home to Calgary, and (Y/N) to their hometown, he found himself missing the comfort he found when they were together. Then Sophomore year came along, and Cale decided to return to UMass despite interest from Denver.

“You’re really sure you don’t want to go play? I mean, Cale, it's the NHL. This is literally just Massachusetts.” (Y/N) said, as they were walking back from dinner.

Cale chuckled. “Yeah, I know. But I want to better myself before I go, you know?”

“Better yourself? You’re a freaking beast on the ice, Cale. I think you’d be fine.” They replied.

That brings us to April 14, 2019.

Cale signed his first entry level contract with the Avalanche. And he’d be flying out tomorrow to go play in his first game, in his hometown. His whole family would be there, everyone he’d ever want to be there. Except one person.

“Holy fuck, Cale. See, I told you you’d be gone before classes ended. This is insane! Your first NHL game. Oh my god. I’m so proud of you.” (Y/N) said to him, sitting in a chair in the corner of his dorm as he packed up his stuff.

Cale blushed. “Thanks, (Y/N/N). I wish you were going to be there though. I told you. I’d buy you a ticket right now if you’d asked me.”

He heard (Y/N) audibly sigh before responding. “Cale, I can’t go with you to Calgary. I literally have a test tomorrow. Besides, I don’t even have a passport.”

“Yeah, I know. I just really want you there.”

“Someday, I’ll be there. Cheering the loudest of course, because I’m your biggest fan.”

They were hugging now, Cale’s arms wrapped around (Y/N)’s waist. He was just tall enough that he could rest his head comfortably on top of theirs. He breathed into their hair, the sweet scent of lavender shampoo filling his nose when it hit him.

He was leaving tomorrow. He didn’t know for how long. Would (Y/N) miss him as much as he’d miss them? Cale liked to think so.

Feeling his heart begin to beat fast, (Y/N) looked up at him. “What’s wrong, Cale?”

(Y/E/C) met his blue ones. His heart was racing. He had to tell them. It was now or never.

“(Y/N)... I- I’m uh, I’m really gonna miss you.”

Maybe next time.

the second time

The second time came the summer after his debut season with the Avs. He had an amazing season: breaking records, and even winning the Calder. But nothing could compare to the excitement he felt when (Y/N) agreed to come visit him for a few weeks in Calgary. They’d just finished up finals and would be flying out in a week.

“I can’t believe you finally convinced me to get my passport, Lettuce.” Cale chuckled at the nickname he’d earned when they got drunk one night at school after (Y/N) made the connection that Cale’s name was synonymous with the vegetable.

“How else would you have visited me though? I haven’t seen you since we played Jersey at the start of the season.”

“In my defense, school’s been kicking my ass now that I have clinicals and stuff. And in your defense, you literally are a professional athletes. You don’t have time to keep up with measly college kids like me.”

Cale could hear the sarcasm through the phone and rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot. Text me when you’re boarding ok? I’ll see you soon.”

“Can’t wait, Veggie.”

Cale stood in the airport lobby, heard searching through the see of people until he saw who he was looking for. (Y/N) walked towards him, (Y/H/C) swinging over their shoulder as they pulled their backpack closer and lugged a suitcase behind. Cale knew he’d be hearing complaints and apologies about how disheveled they looked, but to him (Y/N) was the most beautiful person in the world without even trying.

Lost in his own thought, he didn’t realize just how close they’d gotten to him, before he felt someone jump into his arms.

“Hey stranger.” (Y/N) said, a smile wide on their face as they looked at each other.

Cale shot a familiar tight lipped smile, but (Y/N) knew the weight of just how happy he was.

“I missed you so much. I can’t believe you’re here. In my hometown.” He said, picking up the luggage and leading the two of them out of the airport.

“I know right? I feel like you’ve been home with me so much when you were still at school. Hey, do you think Matthew Tkachuck is still in town?” (Y/N) joked.

Cale stopped in his tracks. “Seriously?” He said, a feeling of jealousy suddenly running through him.

(Y/N) let out a laugh before grabbing his hand and tugging him forward. “I’m kidding, Lettuce. C’mon, I’ve got to meet the ‘rents.”

They arrived back at the Makar household, where (Y/N) was met with a warm welcome from his family. Seeing his mom hug them, and watching them joke around with his dad and Taylor made Cale feel… something. Having (Y/N) around him again made the feelings he’d pushed far away come right back up. And seeing the way they interacted with his family didn’t help either.

As the days passed during the visit, Cale had taken her to every possible attraction his hometown had to offer. It was nearing the end of the week and (Y/N) would be flying home in a few days. God knows when they’d see each other again. Currently, Cale and (Y/N) were sitting in the bed of his dad's truck overlooking a cliff at a park by his house. They fell into a comfortable silence, just enjoying the nighttime summer air. Cale was happy. (Y/N) was tucked into his side, wearing one of his many Avalanche hoodies.

“I’m really glad I came to visit you, you know. ‘S not the same without you at school.” (Y/N) said softly, as if they were embarrassed to be vulnerable.

Cale’s heart jumped into his throat. “Yeah. I’m really glad you came. It’s hard, you know. Being away from home all that time. Even when I was at school. Like, this place means so much to me and I don’t really get to, you know, show it off. And you, um, you mean a lot to me too. So I’m really happy you came.”

(Y/N) was looking at him now, and Cale lifted his eyes to meet their was a look in their eyes he didn’t quite recognize. He felt himself lean forward a little bit, and they did too.

It was now or never.

“(Y/N)...”

“Yeah Cale?” They spoke, and he could feel the heat of their breath.

“I uh, I’m just… I’m gonna miss you, that’s all.”

He couldn't. Not with them leaving tomorrow, for God knows how long.

Maybe next time.

the third time

The third time he almost said it, (Y/N) had come to visit him in Denver over holiday break. It was right before Spring semester was about to start, and they were graduating this year.

“Fucks sake Cale, If your leg shakes any faster you’re gonna take flight buddy.” Tyson chirped him.

Cale sent him a glare, and Nate spoke up before Cale could defend himself.

“Eh, lay off, Josty. The kid’s nervous because his little lover is coming to pay a visit.” He tossed up.

Cale rolled his eyes and blushed. “(Y/N)’s not my lover.”

“You wish they were though.” Nate responded.

This was going to be a long week.

Cale pushed his way past the other people in the crowded bar as he made his way back to the tables where everyone was sat. It was (Y/N)’s last night in Denver. So far, they fit in perfectly with the team and the other halves. Cale didn’t really find that helpful given his situation. He had tried desperately to get over (Y/N) this season, meeting and hooking up with a few people. That wasn’t like him at all. And of course, it didn’t work.

As he approached the table, he was met with the laughing faces of (Y/N) and Sydney, who were practically merged into one person at this point. JT sat across from them, a stoic look on his face, clearly not amused with whatever had been said about him.

“Oh, good, you’re back. Now you can deal with these drunk idiots while I go to the bathroom.” JT said, slipping out of his chair.

Cale slid (Y/N)’s drink across the table, and they started sucking at it like a baby on a bottle. “My god, Cale, your friends are So. Fun. Fuck school, I’m staying here with you forever.”

Sydney piped up, “I’d support that.”

Chuckling, Cale added, “As much as I love that, you need to graduate college first. Then we can talk about you moving to Denver.”

“Hmmmm, ok.” (Y/N) responded before turning back to a conversation with Sydney about something completely random.

As the night drew to a close, a barely buzzed Cale found himself ushering a very drunk (Y/N) into an Uber back to his apartment.

When they returned back, (Y/N) stumbled into the bathroom to get ready for bed, and Cale slipped out of his jeans and into a t-shirt and boxers. When he returned to his bed, he saw that (Y/N) had made themselves at home in his bed. He shook his head softly because he knew it wasn’t worth arguing, and they’d end up sleeping together in his bed tonight. It was nothing new, they’d shared a bed before, but each time Cale felt his heart ache just a little more.

“You still awake, Lettuce?” (Y/N) whispered loudly.

“Haven’t even laid down yet, (Y/N/N).” he replied with a laugh.

“Oh. Okay.” (Y/N) said, a sad twinge in their voice.

“What's up?”

“Do you love me?”

Cale felt the blood rush to his head and his heart drop. “What?”

“Do you love me? I’ve been thinking lately about whether or not my friends actually love me.”

Of course. It was just a drunken thought. With a sigh, he responded: “Go to sleep.”

He almost said it though. But not this time.

Maybe next time.

the fourth time

The fourth time it almost happened, it sort of did happen.

(Y/N) was back at school, and the Avs were having a record breaking mid season. Cale and (Y/N) had fallen back into the usual routine of texting and video calling when they found the time between games, and practices, and work, and classes.

Cale missed (Y/N). A lot. It wasn’t even the fact that he was missing them that made him so agitated. It was the years of lying to himself, and to his family and friends. The pining. The pushing away of feelings. Sleeping with other people and drinking his feelings away. It was the jealousy he felt when he saw Gabe and Mel embrace after games, or when JT would talk about rings, or when Josty would light up talking about the person he had started seeing.

Cale was tired. He was tired of denying his feelings. He was tired of missed opportunities, and stolen glances. The hours he would spend in his camera roll or on Instagram, watching replays of videos and pictures and memories and wishes.

He knew he loved (Y/N). From the moment they met, he didn’t know. All he knew was that there had to be a reason they were in his life, and that they met. All these feelings and moments couldn’t just be for nothing. It wasn’t meant to end in heartbreak. It couldn’t.

(Y/N) was like a sculptor with a chisel. And Cale was the block of marble. As the years passed, (Y/N) had chipped away at the surface of him. Through quick pauses in conversations, and discovering things about each other, and learning personalities, they chipped away at Cale until he was a masterpiece. One that belonged to them. The marble of his heart was sculpted perfectly to fit right into the hands that had created it.

Cale had been on edge for weeks. No one could really figure out why. He was putting up points like crazy and breaking records like no ones business. But he just wasn’t himself, and he knew it.

He had to tell (Y/N). It had been eating him alive for too long. For years, he’d been waiting for the perfect moment, but the timing was never right.

It was now or never.

With shaking hands, he pulled up the familiar contact and pressed call.

“Hey, Lettuce! What’s up?” (Y/N) answered.

“(Y/N)?” Cale said, a shakiness to his voice.

“Yeah? Cale, are you ok? You sound like you’re about to cry.”

“Yeah I’m uh, I’m good.” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Listen, (Y/N). I need you to just listen ok? I can’t. I can’t do this anymore. God, it’s so… it’s so..”

(Y/N) cut him off. “Cale, you’re scaring me. Are you ok? What’s wrong? Do you-”

“Fuck, (Y/N), no. It’s not okay. I’m so, I’m so fucking in love with you it’s literally killing me. It’s killing me. And I never get to tell you. I’ve tried so hard. I’ve tried so hard. Fuck.”

“Cale…” (Y/N) cried softly into the phone.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I gotta go.” Cale said, hanging up the phone.

He threw it across the room, hearing it smack against the wall. He put his head in his hands, feeling the tears fall down his cheeks. After sitting there for what felt like an eternity, he lifted his head and ran his hands down his face.

“Fuck.” he said to no one.

That’s not how he wanted it to go. At all. Making a spur of the moment decision, he got up to pick up his phone, which thankfully wasn’t broken. Shooting out a quick text to the group chat and an apology to Bednar, he shoved a few things into his backpack, grabbed his keys, and opened the flights app on his phone.

That couldn’t have gone worse.

Next time, it would be perfect.

the one time he did

The one time he did say it, he was rushing across the UMass campus in the middle of the night. After pulling the “Don’t you know who I am” card with the public safety officer at the gate, Cale managed to find a parking spot before he rushed out of his car in the direction of (Y/N)’s campus apartment. He knew exactly where to go, because they’d been so excited to show him on Facetime at the beginning of the year.

He raced up at least 4 flights of stairs before reaching the hallway.

402. 404. 406. 408. 410.

He halted in his tracks. This was it. He brought his fist up to the door, knocking a few times.

Cale’s heart was beating out of his chest, and it seemed like an eternity before the door clicked open.

(Y/N) stood there, eyes red from crying. He’d made them cry.

“Cale?” They spoke, shock evident on their face. “What? What are you doing here?”

Cale leaned forward, hands flying up to cup (Y/N)’s face in his hands.

“I came here to tell you I’m sorry. And to ask for a second chance.” He rushed out.

(Y/N)’s hand met his before saying, “A second chance? What do you mean?”

“A second chance to tell you I love you. Because I do. I love you so fucking much I don’t know what to do with myself. You are the only person on planet earth that I think I could ever truly be in love with. And I’ve been trying so hard to tell you, since like, Sophomore year when I left for Denver. I love you.” Cale said, whispering the last part.

“Cale. My god. I’ve been in love with you since the moment you asked for my pen freshman year. I just never thought you could ever feel the same way about me.” (Y/N) confessed.

Cale smiled. A real, genuine, toothy smile. One that was reserved for (Y/N). His (Y/N).

“I think we’re both idiots.” He said.

“Yeah, I think we are.” (Y/N) giggled.

“Can I kiss you now?” Cale asked.

“Please.”

Cale pulled (Y/N) flush to his body, their lips meeting in a harsh force that settled into something sweet. Almost like a fairy tale, Cale felt like his foot could lift off the ground, he was in such bliss.

They kissed for a few more seconds, before (Y/N) pulled away. Cale went back in for more, and they kept exchanging soft pecks.

They finally caught their breath, foreheads touching in harmony, and they began laughing.

Cale did it. He finally told (Y/N) how he felt.

Now there didn’t have to be a next time.

taglist: @tysonjost-taylorsversion @comphyjost @sorryjustafangirl @jostyriggslover96 @perpetually-anxious @stars-canucks @tinyhockey @suitandtys @plds2000 add yourself here!

#emmie writes #cale makar #cale makar imagine #cale makar x reader #cale makar fic #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #colorado avalanche fic

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lolibles · 3 years

Text

A-Z with kazuha

character: kazuha x reader

pure fluff, complete brainrot, some angst not much tho

synopsis: the fluff alphabet with kazuha

implied gn!reader but please let me know if there are any mistakes or things i should look out for when writing gn!reader, im still learning!! <3 NOT PROOFREAD its so long and im lazy :)

A- how affectionate are they with their s/o?

kazuha is a very affectionate person, and he doesn’t try to hide it. kazuha is known for his flowery words, while kazuha loves to turn all kinds of things into poetry, its painfully obvious when one is about you. kazuha never fails to show his affection and love to you with his words and endless haikus of you. he can not stop talking about you, and even though sometimes he does it to tease you and get a laugh at your flustered expression, every time he declares his undying love for you, he means it.

B- what their s/o does that takes their breath away?

there are many things you do that take his breath away, but one thing that makes his heart do backflips is when you remember his haikus, and keep his gifted poems. kazuha has dedicated too many of his poems to you to count, kazuha himself can barely remember all of them. so you can say he was very shocked when one night you randomly whispered a poem he created for you months ago into his ear. kazuha was beyond shocked, his head never turned so fast to look at you, eyes widening. when he asked how you still remembered it, you pulled out a little notebook with scribbles of the poems and pieces of paper stuck inside with notes of dates, and the occasional doodles. you said it was so you never forget any of them, even when you were old. as kazuha flipped through the book he noticed poems from as far back as when he barely knew you. kazuha turned back to you and buried his head in your neck, attempting to hide the blush on his face as he kept mumbling i love you. his heart was swooning with love and joy for you, he knew you loved him, but he never knew something as simple as that could make his whole world stop.

C- do they like cuddling? if so, how and when?

kazuha loves cuddling so much. kazuha is honestly pretty touch starved so he constantly craves your touch. kazuha also gets pretty tired after working a full day out on the alcor or helping out with the resistance. he believes after a full days worth of hard work nothing beats lazing around tangled in your arms. kazuha doesn’t mind being the big spoon or little spoon. there are times of vulnerability where kazuha just needs you to hold him close, run your fingers through his hair and tell him everything will be okay. and there are times where he wants to hold you tight in his embrace as if he was protecting you for the most malicious forces in the world. there are also times where he simply just wants to be close to you, bodies smushed together, his hands wrapped around you with his neck buried in your collar. he tries to make you laugh or giggle so he can feel the vibrations of your sweet voice. kazuha loves to cuddle you at night before bed, he loves to fall asleep with you, the sound of your heartbeat lulling him to sleep, the warmth of your body is so pleasant and inviting. however cuddling at night often means waking up much later than usual. it means that either beidou or gorou angrily barging into your quarters to wake you guys up because you both were late, threatening to split the both of you up since you can never wake up on time.

D- what do they dream of doing with their s/o?

kazuha is a simple man, he finds joy and love in the littlest things. but that doesn’t ever stop him for dreaming- or rather hoping. he wishes one day he can walk down the streets of his hometown and show you the different sights. he hopes that there will be a day when he can see you wear a kimono, under the moonlight as he takes you up to a secluded spot to view the beautiful fireworks, although he will argue that you are far more lovely. kazuha hopes to bring you to see the sakura trees bloom, as you talk about how you wished you could’ve have seen them earlier, he wishes he can brush off the flower petals on your head before pulling you in for a gentle kiss. most importantly kazuha hopes that one day, he can bring you to visit his friend. even if he no longer is blessed upon this world, kazuha is sure he would have loved you. it is only necessary for kazuha to introduce his beloved to his only family.

E- how much effort do they put into the relationship?

kazuha pours his entire soul into your relationship, you are the only one he has left after all. kazuha believes his sole purpose is to treat you like his queen, if even for a second you feel like you aren’t loved, then he has failed. kazuha wants to serve you, though you often tell him he should try to put himself first, he’d merely chuckle and say “if i’m the reason you smile as brightly as the sun, the reason you sleep well at night or the reason you wish to wake up the next day. then there is not a thing i would change.”

F - do they want to start a family with their s/o? what is parenting like with them?

after getting over kazuha's fear of marriage (check M), kazuha wouldn't mind starting a family. although he is perfectly fine if it is just the two of you. if you want children then he is ready to learn, for you. i think kazuha would settle with one or two children, and he says he doesn't mind if you have a girl or a boy- but he is hoping on a boy. kazuha would be a great dad, apart from the fact he travels a lot and is rarely home. he tries his best to be there for you, he usually takes on jobs in the area you are staying or go on shorter trips with the crux while you are in the first few years having a child. he doesn't want to leave all the work to you of raising a young child, nor does he want to miss out those precious years of being a new parent. he loves adventuring but he loves his family too. another thing kazuha can not get enough of is seeing the look on your child's face when he arrives back after a trip, waiting for him at the harbour, flailing their arms about to capture his attention. and he can not ignore the look on your face either, so happy that your loving husband is home. kazuha can be strict but he prefers not to be, he can't say no to those curious eyes that look just like yours. i like to think that kazuha teaches your child to be a smooth talker just like him, this means they both get out of trouble a lot with you. despite kazuha's aloof demeanour, he actually has a rather playful side to him often pulling small pranks with your child on you. he tells your child stories of all kinds of adventures he has been on, your heart swoons at the sight of your child resting atop his chest trying his best not to fall asleep due to the warmth kazuha radiates. kazuha teaches your child all about inazuma and his heritage, telling them about the history and how one day he will bring both them and you to visit his homeland. the safety of his family is his number one priority, he will do anything to protect you and your child. he also teaches your child how to fight, and most importantly self-defence. if you both are travellers though, you decide to wait until your child is older to bring them on your adventures. and when they are, beidou certainly doesn't mind having a little kid running around the alcor causing a ruckus amongst other crew members.

G- what kind of gifts to they give their s/o? do they want one in return?

kazuha has always loved the sentiment of crafting a handmade gift. the amount of time and effort that goes into making something, is enough to show how much love someone has for them. kazuha also always loves to imagine what kind of expression you’d have after receiving his gift, he never asks for anything in return, well actually occasionally he’ll ask for a kiss thats it. kazuha remembers making you a beautiful hairpin, one that matched with his maple leaf haori. he gave it to you one night randomly, his hands pushing aside a bit of your hair to pin up. the way your eyes closed as he inches closer, his fingers occasionally brushing against your skin. when he finally backed away from you to take a look at his masterpiece, he was stunned. the way your face glistened from under the moonlight, you were so ethereal. his breath hitched, and the calm man sitting in front of you became flustered. kazuha made a note to always mentally prepare himself before giving you a gift that you could physically wear- if not he’d definitely blow a fuse.

H- do they hug their s/o? how often?

kazuha definitely hugs you, but i feel like hugs only happen at specific times. of course he will indulge you if you ask for it. kazuha hugs you when he misses you, when he needs you close to him. if you didn’t travel with him, he hugs you a goodbye and a hello. kazuha hugs you tightly because he knows he will be leaving soon, or he misses you so much and never wants to let you go. if someone ever makes kazuha jealous (which doesn’t happen very often), he will hug you from your waist whilst no one was looking, as he buries his head into your neck, taking in your scent. “your mine.” he’d whisper, hugging you tighter. “i am yours.”

I- how romantic are they? do they have problems with being intimate?

kazuha has very little problems with intimacy, he is a naturally romantic person. the way he speaks should be more than enough as evidence. he doesn’t get flustered easily, and he loves to see your expressions when he does something overly romantic- cheesy even, at the most random times. his poetry and haikus are often of you, he doesn’t shy away from flirting with you, teasing you, and constantly he is thinking of different ways to show his love to you. like i said he never knows what may happen tomorrow, so he is going to spend every day in the present being romantic and loving to you.

J- do they get jealous easily? how do they act?

i can’t typically see kazuha as getting jealous easily. there is often the rare occasion of him getting impatient because someone else has held your attention for too long, but other than that its very rare for kazuha to get jealous- he trusts you too much and feels like there’s simply no need for such feelings. i feel like one of the only few times kazuha would get jealous is when he’s drunk. drunk kazuha is needy and clingy, he wants to be around no one but you. if there is the slightest bit of space between you two, kazuha is determined to get rid of it by any means necessary. if you’re having a conversation with someone, be prepared to continue it another day because kazuha is whisking you away and peppering you with kisses while glaring at the person who kept you away from him the whole time. it gets a little uncontrollable when it happens, but kazuha remembers everything that happens the night before and his reaction is absolutely priceless.

K- are they a good kisser? do they like it? how often?

kazuha is miraculously a great kisser, well that is debatable from the beginning since he didn’t have much experience but he learnt very fast, and he is an amazing learner. kazuha’s everyday kisses can range from many varieties. kazuha’s forehead kisses usually linger for just the right amount of time, they are comforting and homely. it feels like you can tell how much kazuha trusts and adores you when he gives you forehead kisses. kazuha’s cheek kisses are different. they are quick and fleeting, usually he peppers your face with them, instead of a single kiss. it is playful and often filled with laughter, kazuha does it with a teasing note as his hands cup your face and pulls you closer for another kiss attack. lastly kazuha’s kisses on your lips, saved for the most romantic and intimate moments you share. often hidden from the public where kazuha can show you how much he loves you without any interruptions. they are passionate and always leaves the both of you wanting for more. he kisses you not too rough not too gentle, just until your lips are slightly plump and red. he takes your cheek in his hand, his other on your waist, pulling you close he whispers “may i?” and if you allow him, he will make sure this is a kiss you never forget.

bonus: kisses on the back of your neck, saved for the most private moments. if you have longer hair he likes to brush your hair back and place a teasing kiss on your neck, just to see you get flustered. and if you have shorter hair he finds himself often staring at the back of your neck, and just decides to indulge himself a few times with a kiss- teasing you along the way.

L- when do they say i love you? how often? do they say or show it more?

kazuha has always been more of a mix of both, he tends to show his love a lot yet he never fails to let you know he loves you. kazuha says it when it is just the two of you, when he has your attention and he has yours. he says it while tangled in your arms, under the blankets as you try to fight the feeling of sleep so you can spend more time with your beloved. kazuha shows it in his actions, even if done unconsciously, he somehow manages to convey ‘i love you’. its evident in the way he smiles for you, his eyes glistening as he lets out a hearty laugh. its evident in the way he holds your hand, guiding you down the stairs- even though you are perfectly capable of walking on your own. it is evident in the way he stares at you while you patch him up after he got hurt again, listening to your mother-like nagging to be careful. he doesn’t always say it outright, but you know, you know he loves you.

M- thoughts on marriage? how do they want to hold the ceremony?

well kazuha definitely has thought about it, thats for sure. in all honesty he is a little intimidated by the idea of marriage. don’t get me wrong, he wants to get married to you, its just kazuha has an interesting past. he’s afraid that somehow even if he’s miles away from her, she’d end up coming back to haunt him, and this time take you too. kazuha also knows unlike others, he can’t offer you the most stable life. he fled from his own country, a god literally wants him dead. he wanders around without an end destination, no real home anymore. he wonders if you really want to get married to someone like him- this thoughts are the things that keep him awake at night. if you ever help kazuha get over his fears and make him understand you love him for who he is now, perhaps he wouldn’t hesitate before popping the question. he would love a quiet and small ceremony, he doesn’t mind a grand wedding but he would prefer something more lowkey and intimate. no distractions so he can take it all in, you finally are his.

N- what are dates like with them? how often do you guys have night outs?

dates aren’t as easy to come by with kazuha, working on the sea or with the resistance means work needs to be done and there isn’t much time for going out. but kazuha makes it work, most of the time its rather spontaneous. kazuha would appear before you and ask you to close your eyes, taking your hands in his to guide you to a little spot he made up on the alcor. hidden away from the drunkards causing a ruckus on deck. he sits you down next to him on a nice blanket and asks you to open your eyes. its a cute little get up, a few snacks and sake under the stars. kazuha would apologise for not being able to give you a proper date, yet you couldn’t ask for more. he’d pull you close saying he didn’t want you to get cold, and he’d teach you about stars and constellations.

another time while you both were working hard for the resistance, kazuha showed up by your tent at night and asked you to accompany for a walk. kazuha would take your hand in his, as he carried an umbrella over your heads. he wouldn’t bring you too far from camp but he tried to make your time worthwhile. he’d tell you about the poems he made of you the afternoon since he missed you the whole day. he’d promise to take you somewhere nicer once everything was under control again- he gives your hand a squeeze and kisses you on the cheek. it wasn’t much but it was all you both had. )

O- what would they do if their s/o got hurt or injured badly? (ouch)

it doesn’t matter how hurt you got, small or big, kazuha feels his world stop spinning. his mind flashes back to the moment he watched his friend die, and he desperately tries to keep his emotions at bay. tears threaten to spill, his voice cracks as he asks where you are. he gets to you as fast as he can, he begs that his legs don't give way yet. he blames himself for not being able to protect you, he couldn't save his friend, but please not you. the moment he catches the glimpse of your body bandaged up, bruises scattered all over skin, he can not contain the amount of guilt that rushes over himself. kazuha is by your side in an instant, taking your hand gently as he lets his eyes scan over your injury. he doesn't stop apologising, he lowers his head as he lets the waterworks run. ironically watching kazuha blame himself for not being able to protect you hurts more than the injuries you have sustained. if you can, please take him into your arms, tell him it's not his fault and you are okay. kazuha wouldn't know what to do if you were gone too.

P- are they playful in the relationship? how do they mess around with their s/o?

it may not look like it, but kazuha is rather playful. especially when it is just the two of you, kazuha suppresses the urge to not tease you. he can't help that you are just so easy to tease. he likes to challenge you to little games at the expense of a kiss. he loves seeing your expressions when he teases you, or purposely loses to you at a game. he also loves to flirt with you, tell you how much he loves you and how much he wants to make you his- even if you already are. he definitely is the type to ask you if your single and want to date him while you are dating, he says "your boyfriend doesn't need to know, so just come with me" and if you play along he falls more in love. it's also dangerous if your a ticklish person, he will often poke you just to hear your laugh or squeal. he craves to hear your melodic laugh, he never wants you to shut up. kazuha is never mean when he plays around with you though, he never crosses the line and he can read the mood well. he knows when is the right time to mess around with you, and he knows when to stop. as much as he loves it he never wants to make you mad. i

Q- what will they do if their s/o is queer or part of the LGBT community? how will they react?

kazuha doesn't mind, he believes that love is love and coincidentally he loves you for you. kazuha listens and is keen on learning your past and why you decides to be who you are now. he picks up on your prefered pronouns without hesitation and treats you with nothing but respect. if you are insecure about it, he will make it his only goal to write you a poem a day about how much he loves you and how much he wishes for you to find self love. kazuha is aware of the occasional disapproval from outsiders, and he doesn't think twice before using his vision to mess with them, knocking them off their balance or messing up their hair. he tells you that others may say what they want but you need not worry for there are many others who love you and will love you for the rest of their lives- him included.

R- how random and spontaneous is the relationship?

a relationship with kazuha is beyond random. there are moments when kazuha just grabs your hand and takes you away to some place because he wants to be with you. kazuha enjoys surprising you with things as well, if he sees something he thinks you will like, he will buy it or attempt to make it for you. when he travels he definitely brings you back pressed flowers or pretty gemstones that remind him of you. kazuha often does things for you on a "just because" basis, even if it holds no significant reason, he will give you a gift, give you a kiss or whatever you want. kazuha also randomly declares his love for you just because.

S- what do they do is their s/o is scared?

kazuha knows what its like to be scared, to feel petrified to the point its hard to breathe, hard to speak, hard to move. his world crumbles at the thought of how you may go through emotions like that. he never wants you to go through any pain, it simply doesn’t matter what causes you to feel so frightened. if it scares you, it scares you. there is no need for him to laugh at you or belittle your feelings. kazuha will never forgive himself if he makes you feel invalidated. when you are scared, kazuha will be by your side in an instant, his arms engulfing you like a warm blanket, as he whispers sweet nothings into you ear. he asks you to focus on his fingers tracing shapes onto your back. he doesn’t let go of you until he feel your heart rate return to normal. and when it does, he releases you from his tight grip to kiss away the tears rolling down your cheeks. giving you a simple smile. “my love, i wont let anything harm you. i love you.”

T- how much do they trust their s/o?

to be in a relationship means kazuha trusts you a lot. kazuha has gone through much, and is constantly on the run. there are few people he can open up to and trust that they would not leave him behind. it takes a while for kazuha to tell you about everything, don't get me wrong he knows he loves you but it isn't easy to bring something so dark about his past to light. he hopes you don't get mad or disturbed by him for keeping it hidden for so long. when he finally does tell you about his past, and you stick by him no matter what he feels his heart slowly gets put back into place.

U- do they like to take things slow or fast? (urgency)

kazuha takes things at a pretty average pace. honestly it's kind of like a write off, he knows it will take him a while to fully trust someone yet he is undoubtedly touch-starved. and when it comes to you he can't seem to hold himself back. when kazuha courts you its slow and relaxed, he never wants to force you into a relationship and make you uncomfortable. he takes his time to learn what you like and dislike, he takes his time to get to know you. and when you finally start dating he tends to take things faster, not too fast though, he makes sure everything he does is okay with you before rushing in head first. unconsciously he tends to touch you a lot, he finds comfort in your warmth. sometimes it's as simple as brushing your hair back, and sometimes it's having his hands on your thigh while you sit next to him. he just loves it so much.

V- how vocal are they about the relationship? do they want it to be a secret?

kazuha prefers to keep it lowkey. only a few people know of your relationship with him. he doesn't want you to get hurt because of him, after all he is rather infamous for escaping from the shogunate and their leader. he also is more on the private side. however its very easy to tell that kazuha is infatuated with you solely by the way he looks at you, talk of you. you can tell that he is completely smitten over you, it takes someone awfully dense to not realise his feelings for you.

W- random scenario with them! (wild card)

the first time kazuha saw you dressed up so beautifully was when beidou insisted that the both of you attended a party in liyue with her. he didn't enjoy parties as much but he thought it would be nice for you to take a break from running away, and if you were there he was sure it would be a lot more bearable. and he was right, it was. beidou had whisked you away earlier to be presentable for the occasion, kazuha himself had to wear something he wasn't used to- he thought it was uncomfortable. but the moment he saw you walk out of the room dressed to the nines, all the discomfort that came with his outfit was thrown out the window and replaced with fluster. kazuha was quick to regain his normal charm however, throwing compliments in your directions as he held out his arm for you to hold- yet not even his sly behaviour could escape your eyes, there indeed was a blush on his cheeks. beidou left the two of you to be, enjoying the food and lovely music playing in the background, yet all kazuha could hear was the melody of your voice. as the room fell silent and a slow tune began, kazuha earned a few nudges from beidou "ask them to dance" she whispered. and he did, it felt like it was straight out of a fairy tale. his eyes were burning into yours as he reached his hand out. you gladly accepted, but you never knew kazuha had learnt to dance, especially so well. you suppose everything about him is eloquent. the moment was something you'd cherish for the entirety of your life, the feeling of him guiding your footsteps along to his. his hands resting perfecting on your waist as yours did by his neck. he often made small jokes about the other stuck up guests, which made you laugh. his heart fluttered. as the song came to an end, you gave him a small kiss on his cheek. a smile appeared on his face, your action warming his chest.

"won't you dance with me again, my love?"

X- do they like petnames? do they use petnames? (XOXO)

kazuha loves using petnames on you. he likes to call you darling or my love. he finds using nicknames rather endearing, and he loves how you react with a simple "hm?" because you know he loves you like that. if you ever give kazuha a petname his heart swoons in adoration for you. he loves them! but kazuha also loves the way his name rolls off your tongue, the sound of your voice is like maple syrup in his ears.

Y- what do they do when they yearn for you?

missing you is something kazuha is unfortunately used to. given that kazuha is a traveller it is understandable why you two are often apart. when kazuha misses you, everyone can tell. especially since your absence in his life is all his poetry becomes. he muses how you are and how it hurts being so far from you. he often finds himself immersed in creating more haikus to show you when he finally reunites with you. more here.

Z- what is sleeping like with them? (zzz)

sleeping with kazuha is warm, you never have to fear the cold especially with kazuha's arms wrapped protectively around you. kazuha doesn't care whether he is the big spoon or small spoon, he just wants to be with you. if he spoons you, just make sure that he wakes up earlier than you if not he is never letting go. his grip is not too tight but still very strong around you. he enjoys being close to you and he loves how you let him be near you. if you are spooning him, please let kazuha rest his head in the crook of your neck. he loves to feel your heartbeat as he tries to fall asleep, the last thing he hears is your heart thumping every so peacefully. the smell of your soap puts him to sleep in a way he never knew it could. he loves how this time you wrap your arms around him to protect him instead, for once he feels like in your arms, he is perfectly safe.

oh my god this took so damn long???? but i didn't have much inspiration and this just came to mind. some letters were EXTREMELY hard to write so please excuse if its a little ooc i tried ;-; im glad im done tho, this honestly is the longest thing i have written in a very very long time and im really happy i did. im also pretty excited to try it for other characters i already have childe's and xiao's one in mind :) anyway!!!!!! please let me know if you liked this thank u bebs muah...

#lolible writes #genshin #kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin x reader #kazuha imagines #genshin imagines #kazuha fluff #kazuha angst #genshin fluff #genshin angst #lolible likes writing

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d0llpie · 3 years

Text

Angry confessions

Summary: You’ve tried everything to make Kyotani realise you like him but he thinks you’re joking

Kyotani x reader

Warnings: cursing

angst to fluff, mutual pining

a/n: i might make a part 2 but i’m not sure, lmk if you want one!

wc: 2.5k

Kyotani couldn’t stand you. Your annoying smile and indifferent attitude while he told you to get lost. Couldnt you take a hint? Apparently not as you continued to greet him the same warm way every time you saw him, slipping him notes during class and flirting with him. Couldnt you flirt with some other poor soul? he couldn’t handle it anymore, knowing you weren’t really flirting with him. Maybe you did flirt with others, that only made it worse, knowing it wasn’t just him who got to see your smile and teasing laugh everyday. Honestly he didn’t know which way was worse, all he knew was that he was sick of you.

It started at practise, he was used to Oikawa’s fan girls attending their practise just to ogle at the captain, that always annoyed him but he soon found you to be worse. Oikawa has tossed him a ball to spike down and you started cheering for him. He whipped his head around to see you smiling brightly down at him, waving. He was taken back, his scowl dropping for a minute as the tips of his ears turned red before he continued on with practise, trying to ignore your cheers everytime he spiked. You trailed behind him to the school date, chatting on about your day and how amazing Kyo’s spikes were while he just grunted and continued walking in front of you, trying to speed up. Every time he sped up, you did too, he wasn’t sure if you were just stupid or if you didn’t care that he was trying to get away from you but either way it confused him.

Since then you’d follow him around, having one sided conversations with the back of his head on the way to the gym, in between classes and sometimes even during lunch times when you weren’t with your friends. He wished you wouldn’t flirt so much, it was the worst part of your whole fan girl act. You’d compliment his hair, his spikes and his eyes often, it came out so naturally that it made him tense up and pause every time, trying to calm down the beating of his heart in his ears. Why couldn’t you just stick to fangirling over Oikawa? Kyotani could take you following him and talking about your day if it wasn’t for the flirting act. He even liked hearing about your day, it was cute to hear you ramble on until you decided to give him false hope with your remarks, sometimes even trying to hold his hand or rest your head on his shoulder.

It had been a few months now and you weren’t sure what to do. You were in a small cafe with your cousin Iwaizumi, opting to seek out the spiker for advice as a last resort.

“I don’t know Iwa, i’ve been flirting with him for months and coming to all your games to cheer him on and he doesn’t even look at me” you fiddling with your fork, huffing out dramatically.

“We’ll have you actually told him you like him or asked him to hang out?” you glared at his condescending tone

“I shouldn’t have to tell him! I don’t know how much more obvious i can get...plus i ask him to have lunch with me all the time” you sighed, feeling your heart sink. You’d thought that he didn’t like you, it was obvious at first that he found you irritating but overtime you thought he’d warm up. Maybe you were just being stupid, setting yourself up for heartbreak at your inevitable rejection. Still, you held on tight to the tiny bit of hope you still had.

“hey.” Iwa waved his hand in front of you, pulling you from your thoughts “I mean surely him ignoring you can’t get any worse if you actually confess right? Plus maybe i’m wrong and he does like you so you’ll actually make some progress” you hummed in agreement, though you were hesitant

“How am i supposed to confess though? He doesn’t even look at me when we talk, well, i talk..” you realised just how pathetic you sounded, how desperate. Was this how Oikawa’s fan girls felt? Ignorantly hopeful for someone who was out of reach? Well at least Oikawa spoke to his fan girls...

“Y/n...not to sound rude or anything, but why do you like this kid? He’s not exactly treating you very well..” you looked up at your cousin who was looking at you with eyes full of concern.

“Well he may not seem like the sweet type but i’ve seen him when he’s alone, he’s really cute when he doesn’t look like he’s on the warpath, plus i think he’s just shy around me and doesn’t know how to act around others, he’s sweet though, he doodles in his notebooks. Also, he’s really passionate about volleyball! i remember the first time i saw him spike, he actually smiled!” you giggled at the memory, blushing at the thought of Kyo.

“Whatever y/n, you need to confess before i do it for you.” you gasped in feign shock “You wouldn’t dare iwa-chan~” you laughed at Iwaizumi’s enraged expression “Stop hanging out with Oikawa ugh” you laughed at him, sipping on your hot chocolate you’d forgotten about.

Kyotani had woken up earlier than usual, deciding to go for a walk. While he was walking his mind drifted back to you, looking behind him half expecting you to be there talking his ear off about random things, making him blush with your flirting. It was cruel how you could flirt with him so shamelessly and not mean it. He so badly wanted you to mean it. He grunted in frustration, picking up his pace until he was running, he was running past a few shops and cafes when he saw you. You were sitting by the window as the sun hit you, his eyes widened, you truly were so pretty to him. He almost stopped running until he saw who you were looking at, Iwaizumi was there. Of course you’d be on a date with him, he was so strong and open. You deserved someone like Iwaizumi he supposed, someone who could actually talk to you, someone who was better than him. He continued running despite feeling his own heart in his throat, making it harder to breathe.

“I’m not writing him a letter Iwa.” you rolled your eyes at his suggestion, looking out the window to see a familiar head of blonde flash past in a blur. “Iwa! He just ran past” you stood up from your seat excitedly, smile crossing your face. “Wow you’re worse than i thought. Y/n, you’re a simp.” You weren’t even offended at his words “i mean can you blame me?” you sat back down, “Yes y/n, yes i can. You probably want to go after him right now” although he was joking he looked up to see you staring back at him hopefully. “Oh my god y/n, fine! Go. I’ll see you at school tomorrow. “ You got up and hugged Iwa squeeling, “Thank you thank you, if i don’t come to school tomorrow i’m either crying about being rejected or on a date with my handsome boyfriend, bye!” “Do not skip school y/n!” Iwa yelled after you as you ran out of the cafe, heading down the same path Kyo took.

As you passed by a park, you noticed Kyotani sitting under a tree, panting heavily. “Kyo!” You called out, smiling brightly as you made your way over to him, ignoring the frustrated frown on his face. “What” he gruffly replied, clearly annoyed but you were ecstatic to get a reply from him. “I actually wanted to tell you something!” It’s now or never you thought, this was a perfect time to do it, you were ready for either response, you waited for him to look up at you before continuing.

“Um, i haven’t really thought of what to say so i’m just going to say it, i like you. I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me? You don’t have to of course but i really wanted you to know” you played with your hands while you waited for him to say something, silence was not what you expected but- “are you serious right now?” he was angry?, you tilted your head to the side “of course, i’m surprised you didn’t already kn-” “What is wrong with you? First you follow me around everywhere, flirting with me and annoying the fuck out of me, now this? haven’t you played around enough? Honestly i didn’t think you’d take it this far, that’s just low y/n.” the tone in his voice was enough to have you back away a little, confusion covered your face, you definitely hadn’t anticipated this kind of response. Despite your heart sinking at the rejection, you couldn’t help but feel a little angry as well. Who was he to talk to you like that. “What the fuck are you talking about Kyo. A simple ‘Sorry i don’t feel the same’ would’ve sufficed, honestly this is the most you’ve ever said to me and it’s this?” He was taken back by your reaction. You were serious? “Why would you try confess to me while you were just on a date then huh?” you furrowed your brows in confusion before it dawned on you, he thought you were dating Iwaizumi. Now you understood more of what he was saying, you opened your mouth to speak but he interrupted you. “Yeah, I saw. You can drop the act now it was very funny. Now you can fucking leave me alone and stop acting like Oikawa’s clingy fangirls. I’ll finally stop having to hear you yapping in my fucking ear all day.” he wasn’t expecting to look up and see tears rolling down your cheeks. “Iwaizumi is my cousin..” you whispered meekly before turning back in the direction of the cafe, running home.

Kyotani sat there dumbfounded. You were serious. He just called the girl he liked annoying and clingy after she tried to confess all because he was too insecure and jumped to conclusions. “Fucking idiot.” he cursed himself out under his breath.

He didn’t know what to do, he couldn’t sleep, every time he closed his eyes he just saw that heartbroken look on your face, eyes filled with tears. Because of him. He groaned before going to his desk, he begun to write a letter. The thought of you never coming to his games anymore, you never cheering for him again, telling him about your day and that new show you start, even the flirting, he knew he couldn’t get through the day without it. You weren’t annoying, you were the only person who managed to make him stop scowling, he was relaxed around you.

You walked into your first class, finding a letter on your desk. Your eyes flitted over to Kyo who was sitting a few seats away looking away nervously, you could see how red he was from here. You tucked the letter into your bag, he didn’t deserve your attention and you were determined to not talk to him or look at him anymore. Kyotani watched you put away his letter, he frowned, you’d probably just read it later. He didn’t want to get discouraged so he waited for you during lunch but you never came. He was getting antsy, it was so quiet. After his final classes he was excited to go to practise, getting there on time for once, only you weren’t there. Instead he was met with an angry Iwaizumi “what the fuck did you do to her!” he boomed, gaining the attention of everyone in the gym. Kyotani looked down, surprising everyone “where is she?” he asked quietly, Iwaizumi quirked his brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “She’s probably at home or the cafe.” Kyotani looked up, running out of the gym ignoring Oikawa’s calls to come back and train.

You were sitting in a booth at the cafe, scrolling on your phone when you remembered the letter. You opened it despite your hesitation and began reading.

Y/n,

I used to find you irritating, i couldn’t understand why someone as pretty as you would follow me around and talk to me when i was so cold to you. I took your flirting as you either making fun of me or just you having a flirtatious personality so i would get annoyed. About yesterday, i misunderstood completely and i’m so sorry for snapping at you. I never meant to lash out on you and i never wanted to. I was fed up with the person i liked toying with me and when i found out you liked me back i didn’t believe you.

I’m sorry for hurting you, if you let me be yours i swear i’ll never hurt you again. I never want you to cry because of me ever again, i like you too y/n and i’m sorry i was too much of a pussy to tell you sooner.

I hope you forgive me

-Kyotani.

You smiled at the letter, looking up at the sound of the cafe bell ringing to see Kyotani, out of breath staring at you. You smiled up at him like usual and he returned it, moving towards you quickly. “Kyo-“ he cut you off, smashing his lips against yours, his lips were gentle despite the desperate hold he had on you, cradling your head in one hand and gripping your collar in the other. You smiled against the kiss, cupping his cheek before pulling away. “Hi” you giggled as he sat down in front of you, holding your hand on the table “Hi” he smirked at you. “Y/n, can i take you to dinner?” you nodded happily “of course you can handsome~” he blushed furiously and this time you got to see, you cupped his cheek again, leaning over to kiss his cheek softly, only making it worse. “C’mon doll” he pulled you up, holding your hand as you exited the cafe, walking side by side as he intertwined your fingers, smiling down at you with a soft expression. How was he so blind?

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aro-comics · 3 years

Text

History (Part 2)

History, Part 2/3 - I swear, things will be more positive in part 3!!!!! 😭😭😭 also I had to shorten this description more than a few times so sorry for the later post 😅 I expanded on the points I made last week about the ways amatonormativity makes it harder to understand your feelings or perceive elements of your identity. Even now, after I’ve realized that it’s okay to be without romantic love, I still feel insecure about finding a committed partner in my future. This isn’t to say an Aro you can’t find a partner, romantic or otherwise! But there are fewer people interested pursuing a non-romantic relationship. And it’s because of this, coupled with the fact that many life “”milestones””” traditionally involve marriage, that makes me unable to picture my future. I want to start a family. I want to have kids. I want to feel that I can count on someone to work with me to our shared goals. But I can’t figure out how I’m going to get any of this, without the help of a partner. So I’ve been thinking about this subject a lot. From when I started writing this comic (which was a few months ago), I think some of my feelings are starting to change, or get more complex at least. I still, of course, resonate with everything I’ve uploaded here. But I wanted to end this description with the full picture of what I’m feeling, which is this: I accept that my life might be different than most of my peers. It might be more challenging in some ways, but less so in others. But either way, it doesn’t mean I can’t pursue my goals or try to build a life I know I want and will hopefully bring me peace and happiness. The best thing I, or anyone really, can ever do is just go for it, and hope for the best. And I’m looking forward to getting a chance to try no matter what happens 💚💚💚 Happy ASAW everyone 💚

[Image Description:

Slide 1: Celia sits on a chair, looking skeptically at a book. “Part of that doubt is from the deep levels of amatonormativity in society - it affects how we see the world.”

Slide 2: So many people can’t even imagine that it’s possible to not feel romantic attraction to other people.

Celia shown arguing with an angry blank person.

“How can you not really feel romantic attraction?”

“Like, I just don’t see people that way ... ?”

“There must be someone-”

Slide 3: “(I know that I was one of them, when I was young)”

A younger celia with long hair is sitting on her bed, drawing in her sketchbook. She mutters to herself: “Or, I could pair him with Chiara but they’re not in the same country. Hm … Maybe I should make a new character … Last time I made Miles and Raymond together and their dynamic has really helped develop their personalities …”

Slide 4: Pure text slide. “There are no norms, no cultural guidelines, or even knowledge on what it means to form deep bonds or navigate life without the expectation of romance.”

Slide 5: Celia lying in a field with her former childhood friend. He’s talking about something, and she is smiling as she glances over.

“I don’t know how to describe what I felt, only that I didn’t have a crush.”

Slide 6: Celia as a teenager, seeing her former frenemy with his girlfriend. He looks angry as he glares at her.

“I didn’t feel like I would ever have a chance to be his “best friend” - so I decided to let him hate me, instead.”

Slide 7: “I didn’t see how I could live a life without romance -” Celia as a university student, watching some of her classmates talk.

“You know that girl I was telling you about?” “The one from your japanese class? Oh my god, did you two finally - tell me everything!!”

“Well, I finally asked her out, and she was so cute. I brought her flowers after class …”

Slide 8: “- so I kept blaming myself each time I saw my peers falling for someone else.”

A close up of Celia at her desk. Tears are welling up at the corners of her eyes, and she says to herself “... fuck. What am I doing wrong? Why can I never like anyone enough?”

Slide 9: “And in many ways, I still can’t see -”

Celia is drawn on the right half on the screen, and a stereotypical straight couple on the left. A “path” forms in front of both of them, the couple having a house, marriage, the woman holding a business briefcase with doodles of money and “CASH DOLLARS” scrawled around her, and a baby. On Celia’s side she has a lease, a smaller house, questionmarks drawn arounda child, and other legal forms which are labeled insurance.

“- how will I live my life without a spouse?”]

#RegularComic #HistoryComic

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agustdiv1ne · 2 years

Text

that’s the spirit! — TEASER

READ HERE!

pairing: choi soobin x reader

genre: sixth sense/ghost hunter!soobin, high school au, s2l, fluff with plot basically

wc: tbd, aiming for at least 10k :)

summary: several days before halloween, you find the quiet boy who you share some classes with staring up into your bedroom. you're a little creeped out, and miles more scared, but then he tells you something that changes how you see, well, everything.

warnings: (in this teaser) mentions of murder/serial killers, mentions of stalking, cursing, reader is scared scared, some overthinking on the reader’s part

note: this may be a halloween fic and november might almost be over, but i still wanted to get this out there. it’s the first time in months that i’ve worked on a full-blown fic, so i hope you guys are excited :)

TEASER

as soon as you catch sight of his shadowed form, your heart drops to your stomach. the blinds are shut and the curtains are drawn as tightly as possible in a heartbeat, your lungs constricting while your hands begin to tremor.

what the hell. what the hell? why is he even here — again? has he been here every night, unbeknownst to you? this couldn't be a coincidence — he stares at you in class and all of sudden he's standing right outside your house every night? no way, not a coincidence.

maybe he's a serial killer, you think. maybe he's scoping out your house for the best route up to your room. perhaps this is a scare tactic, a way to scare you before he strikes.

you flinch.

the front door. you almost never lock it.

you bolt without thinking, nearly tripping and falling down the stairs, to make sure the front door is secured shut. you check, double check to make sure all the windows and doors are locked, draw every curtain shut, check every nook and cranny for any possible entrance to your house. when you find none, you finally breathe.

soobin has always acted a little strange at school, but this is something entirely different. Is it because you ran into him that he decided that your were it? is this some kind of stalker horror story? are you going to become a serial killer's victim, one briefly mentioned in a documentary made a few years down the line?

or maybe this is all a cruel joke. yeah, a joke that you're the butt of, the punch line. you'd rather that be the case. you could live with that; you couldn't — no, wouldn't live if it's the former.

you feel bile rise in your throat, but you swallow it back down. you return to your room and check under your bed, in your closet, as if you were five years old again.

you don't sleep for the rest of night, cradling your old aluminum softball bat like a lifeline until the sun peeks its head over the horizon.

you wake a couple hours after you doze off, only to glance at your alarm clock and realize that school begins in a measly twenty minutes. after scrambling out of bed, throwing on clothes, and half-assedly brushing your teeth, you sprint to your car and speed your way down your neighborhood’s street. you make it to your first class with mere minutes to spare.

the school day passes at a snail’s pace. instead of completing any work, you decide to watch the clock, glancing up from the doodles in your notebook every few minutes, until the lunch bell rings. you don’t dare look at soobin, who sits across the classroom, as you shoot up from your desk as soon as your teacher dismisses you.

you make it a few feet into the hallway before a hand catches your wrist. your head whips around to see who stopped you, only for your heart to drop into your stomach.

you should have known it would be soobin.

his stare bores into your form like a laser, and you resist the urge to gulp. “what do you want?”

“this is going to sound crazy, but i need you to come with me,” he says, ignoring your question, and you stare at the junction where his large clasps your wrist. you snatch your arm away from him, your hands balled into fists hard enough for your knuckles to pale in color, fingernails biting into the skin of your palms — you think that you might start bleeding if you keep pressing. a few moments of consideration later, you meet his gaze and send him your best intimidating glare; you hope that he can’t see the nerves manifesting themselves in the tremble of your hands.

“absolutely not.”

you cringe at the shake in your voice while he heaves a deep sigh. it seems like he knows exactly what you are thinking when he speaks next. “i know you’re weirded out by what’s going on, and i really don’t blame you, but i need you to listen to what i’m about to tell you.”

you maintain your glare as your lips form a flat line. “no.”

he mirrors your expression, but there’s a shine of conflict in his eyes. “there’s something wrong with your house.”

cracking your knuckles out of habit, you ask what he means by that.

“if you’d hear me out, i could explain,” he deadpans, eyebrows raised expectantly.

you concede (not without a roll of your eyes), but tell him that you have to stay where people would be able to see you. he accepts the compromise, so the two of you push your way through the front doors of the building and find solace underneath a ruby-leaved tree near a window. it’s on the chillier side today, yet the goosebumps that usually plague you have calmed down for now. you watch as soobin nervously fiddles with the sleeves of his hoodie while you wait for him to speak.

“listen, if you’re not going to spit whatever the hell it is you wanted to say out, i’m gonna go eat lunch,” you say as you turn around to walk back towards the cafeteria. he panics, pleading for you to stay and that he promises that this won’t take long. you turn back to face him, and he lets out a sigh in what you think is relief, following it with a determined nod.

“please don't laugh. i, uh," he sucks in a deep breath. "basically, i can see ghosts.”

please send me an ask or dm if you would like to be tagged!

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

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Tattoo

Jiang Cheng decides to get his first tattoo the night he resolves to move out.

There has been a huge fight—yet again—where his father was more concerned with talking about Wei Wuxian, who wasn’t even part of this fight, and where his mother listed every single inadequacy Jiang Cheng apparently had.

And it’s enough.

He’s tired of feeling like shit in his own home and he’s tired of being made to feel like shit and he wants a change.

Which is going to start with him getting a tattoo.

His parents hate tattoos—one of the few things they can agree upon—and Jiang Cheng feels a little thrill going down his back just thinking about getting one.

But soon thinking about it turns into actively imagining, then into planning, and all of a sudden he finds himself in front of a tattoo studio.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t go in that first day; he simply can’t bring himself to. But then he spends another evening in the icy company of his parents, who are no longer speaking to him in the misguided attempt to make him apologize and Jiang Cheng decides that this is it.

He’ll get that tattoo and then he’ll get out of here.

Jiang Cheng goes back to the tattoo studio the next day, and this time he also enters. It’s not at all what he expected to look like, but he scolds himself for even thinking that. Clearly his parents and all their prejudices are way too prevalent in his life if he expected dirty corners and suspicious people everywhere.

What he sees are clean counters, tasteful pics of tattoos and not much else.

Until the most beautiful human being Jiang Cheng has ever seen steps out of a room.

“Hi, there,” the man says and Jiang Cheng does not swoon on the spot. “Do you have an appointment?”

Jiang Cheng slightly shakes his head to clear it and then he squares up.

“No, I don’t. I’d like to make one, though.”

“Alright. Sit for a moment,” the man says, pointing at a couch and then vanishing again.

Jiang Cheng does sit down, unbearably nervous now that he made that very first step and he wrings his hands in his lap. He’s so lost in his own head that he doesn’t even notice when the guy comes back.

“First time?” the guy asks as he puts a glass of water down in front of Jiang Cheng, who nods and gratefully takes the glass to take a sip.

“Yeah. That obvious?” he asks with a small smile and the guy shrugs.

“You get an eye for it, after a while. Nie Mingjue,” he then introduces himself and Jiang Cheng puts the glass back down so that he doesn’t notice how much his hands shake.

“Jiang Cheng.”

“Alright, Jiang Cheng, what do you want?” Nie Mingjue asks, a sketchbook making an appearance and Jiang Cheng swallows heavily.

“Just something small,” Jiang Cheng whispers. “Something I can hide away.”

At that Nie Mingjue pauses.

“I don’t make tattoos that have to be hidden away,” he cautiously says, already closing the sketchbook again.

“Yeah, well, I’m not asking for your opinion here,” Jiang Cheng snaps back before he clenches his jaw and scrubs a hand over his face. “I apologize,” he tacks on, much more quietly, as he gets up. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Wait,” Nie Mingjue says, sighing himself. “That was unprofessional of me. I just think—this is art, you know. Something you chose for yourself, something you should be proud of. That’s just usually how this goes. But if it’s private, then that’s perfectly fine. I didn’t mean to be an ass.”

Jiang Cheng slowly sinks back down into the couch at those words and Nie Mingjue opens his sketchbook again.

“Alright,” he slowly says. “I want three little dog paw prints on my hip.”

He didn’t give this too much thought, honestly, but it feels right. It’s been years since he had to give his dogs away for Wei Wuxian’s sake and while he’s not mad at Wei Wuxian for that, he does resent his parents for it.

They were just puppies. There was a chance for Wei Wuxian to get acquainted with dogs that didn’t mean him harm. They could have given them to someone close by, so that Jiang Cheng could have gone there to see them every now and then.

But they didn’t do any of these things and just took the only friends away from Jiang Cheng he had at that time.

He is still resentful about that.

“Like this?” Nie Mingjue asks and shows him the sketch he quickly did.

It’s really just those three paw prints, nothing fancy about it, and Jiang Cheng thinks it’s perfect.

“Yes,” he breathes out and he can’t wait for them to be on his skin.

“This will be quick and I have time now, if you want,” Nie Mingjue offers him and that makes Jiang Cheng freeze.

He did not expect this to happen so soon, but after a moment he finds that it’s the only thing he wants.

“Yes,” he decisively says and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

Jiang Cheng did not need to know that he has dimples.

“Good,” he nods, before he falls into what Jiang Cheng suspects to be the customary first client talk.

Jiang Cheng does his best to listen and nod at the right moments, but he is distracted by Nie Mingjue and the way he talks and moves and sounds.

In the end Nie Mingjue still seems to be satisfied, because he leads Jiang Cheng towards one of the back rooms where he asks him to take his pants off.

Jiang Cheng freezes again because he did not quite make that connection yet, but of course he’d have to at least take of his pants for this. He sheds them quickly, not looking at Nie Mingjue and reminding himself that he must see this several times a day and that surely Jiang Cheng is nothing special.

He barely realizes that his hands are shaking.

“Are you okay?” Nie Mingjue lowly asks him, clearly picking up on Jiang Cheng’s nerves and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know what to answer him.

In the end, the truth comes spilling out.

“No,” he admits. “My parents are going to disown me for this, should they ever find out. I mean they are going to disown me either way once I move out, but—yeah,” he finishes awkwardly once he realizes that he’s rambling because Nie Mingjue absolutely did not sign up to hear about Jiang Cheng’s fucked up life.

“Are you safe at home?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng catches him quickly checking him over as if he’s looking for bruises.

“Physically yes,” Jiang Cheng gives back as his eyes start to burn. “Emotionally not so much,” he adds in a whisper, admitting to this for the first time out loud, and he sways into Nie Mingjue when he clasps his shoulder.

“But you’re taking steps,” he says and it’s not a question.

“I’m taking steps,” Jiang Cheng agrees and finally gets on the cot, ready to get this first rebellious step done.

“Good,” Nie Mingjue says, clearly still worried, but also satisfied and when he starts the tattoo gun they don’t talk much more.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng is struggling. He feels isolated and lonely and like his parents scathing silence is going to suffocate him one of these days, even after he moved out, and there’s only one thing Jiang Cheng can think of doing.

He finds himself back at Nie Mingjue’s tattoo studio.

“Back so soon,” Nie Mingjue greets him with and Jiang Cheng realizes that it has only been three months since he got the paw prints.

It feels like so much longer, with everything that happened.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng awkwardly says and sinks down in the couch again. “I want something bigger.”

“Something you can’t hide,” Nie Mingjue replies, even as he sits down with his sketchbook. “How is that situation going?”

“I moved out. I’m not talking to my parents. But—” he trails off, unsure if he should really just unload all of his bullshit on this stranger.

“But there’s a lot of shit to unlearn and figure out for yourself, especially if this has been going on for a while,” Nie Mingjue says with an understanding nod and when Jiang Cheng stares at him, Nie Mingjue shrugs awkwardly.

“My brother has an interest in psychology and he loves using me as his sounding board. It only got worse when he took up some classes at university.”

“Ah, I see,” Jiang Cheng says and then sighs. “I’m deciding if it’s worth going to see someone,” he then admits lowly and cringes immediately afterwards. “I’m sorry, this is not what I’m here for and it’s absolutely not your job to listen to me.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised how many people see this as a therapy session,” Nie Mingjue gives back, and while Jiang Cheng would usually recoil at that, it doesn’t sound judging.

“But I’m here for this,” Jiang Cheng says and puts a slip of paper on the table.

He’s by no means an artist, but he has always enjoyed doodling and he’s perfectly capable of designing his own tattoo, especially when he gives it more than just a few days thought.

“That is bigger,” Nie Mingjue says with a raised eyebrow as he picks the paper up. “Much more difficult to hide.”

“No more hiding,” Jiang Cheng resolutely says. “I want it to curl around my arm, the head on the back of my hand.”

“Really big then. From shoulder to hand?”

“Yes.”

“Mh,” Nie Mingjue hums as he starts to sketch something.

When he turns the sketchbook to Jiang Cheng it’s still the snake and nothing fundamentally has changed, but it still looks better than the basic design Jiang Cheng came up with.

He itches with the need to get this on his arm.

“Yes,” he breathes out, reaching out to brush his hand over the sketch. “Please.”

“You’ll need an appointment for this one,” Nie Mingjue says as he gets up to schedule Jiang Cheng in.

It takes Nie Mingjue three sessions to get the snake done and Jiang Cheng loves it more than he thought possible.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng takes his time for the third tattoo. He takes his time to get used to living alone, takes his time to figure out if he really wants to go for a business degree and most importantly, he takes his time to get back together with his siblings.

They didn’t quite fall out when Jiang Cheng moved out, but he kept his distance for a while and now he doesn’t.

Now he welcomes them into his home and his new life and he sits Wei Wuxian down to have a real talk; one where he doesn’t allow Wei Wuxian to laugh everything away—either his own pain or Jiang Cheng’s—and afterwards they feel like family again.

Jiang Cheng briefly debates if he wants to do the same with his parents, but he finds that he couldn’t care less.

He can barely think about them without getting angry or nauseous or both and he figures it’s not worth it. Not now and maybe not ever.

So instead of wasting more thoughts on that Jiang Cheng finds himself back at Nie Mingjue’s studio.

“It does get quite addicting, doesn’t it?” Nie Mingjue asks him with a smirk when Jiang Cheng steps inside and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“Especially when you finally figure your life out for yourself,” he gives back and he has to admit that for the first time he’s not nervous as he sits down on the couch.

He knows what he wants and he knows what to expect.

It leaves him time to appreciate Nie Mingjue, though, and that makes Jiang Cheng’s stomach flutter.

There are tattoos on Nie Mingjue as well; making their way down his arms and one peeking out of the collar of his shirt. Jiang Cheng finds that he wants to see all of them.

“Okay, hit me,” Nie Mingjue says as he sits down as well and Jiang Cheng gives him his sketch.

Three lotus pods for him and his siblings. Jiang Cheng does only have good memories of them picking lotus seeds, and especially of Jiang Yanli’s soup.

“Next you’re going to learn how to tattoo yourself and then I’ll be out of a job,” Nie Mingjue grumbles as he takes the sketch and Jiang Cheng smiles with pride.

He did put an awful lot of work into this.

“I want it on my calf,” he tells Nie Mingjue who nods.

“Easy enough, but you need an appointment.”

“Sure,” Jiang Cheng shrugs and his eyes drop to Nie Mingjue’s hands, which are still holding his sketch.

Honestly, Jiang Cheng did not expect his heart to beat faster at that, or the thought that Nie Mingjue will put his hands on Jiang Cheng’s skin soon enough but he’s not going to stop it either.

The pods don’t take much time at all once the appointment comes around, and soon enough Jiang Cheng is stepping out on the street with one tattoo more.

It feels like he’s reclaiming bits and pieces of himself with every tattoo that he gets and he honestly doesn’t want it to stop.

It’s only a little bit because he wants to continue seeing Nie Mingjue.

~*~*~

“You’re going to be a regular soon,” Nie Mingjue says with a smile when Jiang Cheng steps into the by now so familiar studio yet again and he frowns, affronted.

“It’s my fourth time. How much more do I have to come by to be considered a regular?”

“Well, the true regulars drop by just to say hello, too,” Nie Mingjue says, clearly trying for nonchalant but Jiang Cheng sees the tension in his shoulders.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, but he still sits down on the couch. “But today I’m here for an appointment.”

“Do I even need to bring my sketchbook?” Nie Mingjue asks, clearly remembering that there was nothing for him to do the last time Jiang Cheng came by but Jiang Cheng nods.

“I just have an idea. I need you to draw it.”

“Oh, alright,” Nie Mingjue says, and is quick to retrieve the book before he sits down. “What do you want?”

“I want water, or waves, under my collarbone,” Jiang Cheng says and points at the spot.

It hasn’t been that long since he started to swim again, but he already knows that it will be a big part of his life from now on.

Jiang Cheng used to love it, until his parents made it into a competition between him and Wei Wuxian and pressured him to do better and better. Jiang Cheng stopped after one too many silver medals and he never picked it up again, too afraid of falling back into old habits, of feeling like shit for doing something just for fun, no matter how much he loved it.

But he picked swimming up again, and it turns out he’s still good and he still loves it. Even more now that he can just do it for fun and challenge himself if he feels like it.

And he wants a tattoo for it as well. It’s another piece of himself he reclaimed after all.

“Like so?” Nie Mingjue asks, showing Jiang Cheng the rough sketch.

It’s a little bit too stylized for Jiang Cheng’s taste and he tells Nie Mingjue so, who turns the page and starts again.

When he shows Jiang Cheng the new sketch, it looks more realistic and it’s exactly what Jiang Cheng wants.

“Yes,” he breathes out and smiles.

That one feels just as right as his other tattoos had.

“Water, huh?” Nie Mingjue asks, quite awkwardly Jiang Cheng thinks but he smiles at Nie Mingjue.

“I recently re-found my love for swimming,” he tells him. “It helps that my parents are not yelling at me to win a gold medal.”

“Did you use to? Win gold medals?”

“No. My brother did though, which both my parents used to rub in, in very different way. I stopped because they made me dread going into the water but now that I’m just doing it for fun,” he awkwardly trails off. “I still love it.”

“That’s good to hear,” Nie Mingjue tells him and Jiang Cheng is surprised when Nie Mingjue squeezes his shoulder. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you do look better. Definitely happier than the first time you came in.”

It makes Jiang Cheng flush, because he didn’t know that it had been that bad or that Nie Mingjue had been paying attention to him.

“I am. Better. Still on the way with a lot of things, but definitely better,” Jiang Cheng gives back and he tries very hard not to think about the fact that he still doesn’t know what he wants to do with his future or if he wants to get a dog, despite Wei Wuxian’s fear, or if he’ll ever be man enough to ask Nie Mingjue out on a date.

But slow steps. First he gets this tattoo and then he can think about what comes after.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng never gave much thought to his sexuality beyond the fact that it wouldn’t matter who he brings home; his parents were surely going to hate them, just because it was Jiang Cheng who introduced them.

He had looked at a few boys during school, but his mother had made it very clear that Jiang Cheng was going to get married to a business woman of her choosing, producing heirs for the company as soon as he could, and Jiang Cheng didn’t think much beyond that except ‘Fuck no’.

But now he has time to re-evaluate his sexuality and while he would probably label himself as bisexual at the moment he’s very definitely Nie Mingjue-sexual.

Not that he’s ever going to mention that to the man himself.

He’s standing in front of the tattoo studio yet again, even though he doesn’t have plans for a new tattoo yet. But Nie Mingjue had said regulars came by whenever, and Jiang Cheng wants to have that connection with Nie Mingjue.

He just can’t bring himself to make the first step.

So instead of going in, he walks up and down on the other side of the studio, berating himself that he just can’t bring himself to do it, but just as he is about to turn around and go home, Nie Mingjue steps out and walks straight up to him.

“Nervous?” Nie Mingjue asks with a teasing smile and Jiang Cheng deflates.

“I’m not quite sure how to make friends,” he admits and then wishes the ground would swallow him, because Nie Mingjue never said anything about being friends and it’s not quite what Jiang Cheng wants anyway.

“Usually you start talking to them,” Nie Mingjue says and steers Jiang Cheng towards a coffee shop.

“About what?” Jiang Cheng helplessly asks but he allows Nie Mingjue to lead the way.

“How was your day?” Nie Mingjue starts and Jiang Cheng finds that talking to Nie Mingjue over a cup of coffee is one of the easiest things he has done.

They start to do it weekly.

~*~*~

“Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue warmly greets him when Jiang Cheng steps into the studio again but he frowns when Jiang Cheng sits down on the couch. “You didn’t say anything about a new tattoo.”

It almost sounds accusing and Jiang Cheng helplessly shrugs.

“I woke up with the burning need to get one, so here I am.”

“Ah, a true addict,” Nie Mingjue says with a shake of his head, but he does get his sketchbook and sits down with him. “What’s it gonna be this time?”

Jiang Cheng takes a moment to gather his thoughts, letting his eyes wander over the tattoos on Nie Mingjue’s arms and he wonders if he can ever bring himself to ask to see them up close. To learn the story behind them.

“I want a lotus flower in the middle of my back,” Jiang Cheng finally says and it’s just because he still has his eyes on Nie Mingjue’s arms that he sees him jerk at his words.

“Between your shoulder blades?” Nie Mingjue asks to clarify and Jiang Cheng nods, finally looking up.

“Yes. And I want it in colour, too.”

It is the family crest and Jiang Cheng was torn about that for a long time, but it’s still his family and it’s still such a big part of himself that he needs to reclaim. Especially since his father does still want him as the head of the company and Jiang Cheng decided to do it.

“Oh, dear gods,” Nie Mingjue mumbles and Jiang Cheng frowns, torn out of his thoughts.

“Something wrong with that?” he wants to know but Nie Mingjue is quick to shake his head.

“No, not at all,” he says, busying himself with his pencil.

They fall into an uneasy silence and Jiang Cheng wonders what he did wrong to make Nie Mingjue respond like this, but before he can come up with a plausible explanation, Nie Mingjue gives him the sketchbook.

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng breathes out. “It’s gorgeous.”

He didn’t dare imagine the design too much, because he wanted Nie Mingjue to create it, but Jiang Cheng did not imagine this.

“Yeah?” Nie Mingjue asks and Jiang Cheng frowns when he hears his voice crack.

“Yes! When can we do it?” he asks, suddenly eager to get it done as quickly as possible.

“I have time today, if you’re really sure,” Nie Mingjue gives back and Jiang Cheng practically beams at him, which clearly is answer enough.

“Alright, get ready then,” Nie Mingjue says with a nod of his head towards the same back room they always use and Jiang Cheng eagerly makes his way over there.

He’s just taking off his shirt when he hears Nie Mingjue come back in, mostly because he hears the muttered “Fuck”.

“Mingjue?” Jiang Cheng asks, turning around, his shirt still around his arms. “Is something wrong?”

“Wanyin, you can’t do that to me,” Nie Mingjue breathes out, his eyes trailing over first his tattoos that Nie Mingjue himself put there and then towards his shoulders and back.

“Do what?” Jiang Cheng asks, honestly confused, but there’s something in Nie Mingjue’s gaze that makes him go hot all over.

“You can’t let me mark you up all the time and then not go on a date with me,” Nie Mingjue says, finally meeting Jiang Cheng’s eyes and it takes Jiang Cheng a moment to smile at him.

But once he starts, he can’t stop.

“Well, you’d have to ask for me to say yes,” he tells Nie Mingjue, finally taking his shirt off. “Why now, though?”

“Now,” Nie Mingjue huffs out and steps close, dropping a quick kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head, catching him completely off guard with that. “As if I didn’t want to ask you since that first time you came into my studio.”

Jiang Cheng can’t hide his blush, he’s sure of that, but when Nie Mingjue’s gaze goes soft, he finds that he doesn’t mind.

“Okay, but why now?” he asks again, though he couldn’t be happier despite the fact that Nie Mingjue still didn’t ask him out.

“You look happier, more grounded,” Nie Mingjue tells him. “And honestly, I’m only human. There’s only so much self-control I have, especially if you’ll allow me to mark up that masterpiece of a back.”

“I swim a lot,” Jiang Cheng says, smug as anything, because Nie Mingjue looks like he could bench press Jiang Cheng if he really wanted to and to hear that he likes how Jiang Cheng looks, that’s quite the ego boost.

“I see,” Nie Mingjue says, though he sounds strangled. “Go on a date with me, Wanyin,” Nie Mingjue then says, and Jiang Cheng likes the fact that it’s not even really a question.

“Weekly dates are not enough for you?” he teases Nie Mingjue, absolutely delighted by how this is going and he enjoys seeing Nie Mingjue flounder for a bit.

“You owe me at least twelve kisses then,” Nie Mingjue finally says, sounding absolutely indignant and Jiang Cheng chuckles.

“You only want one kiss per date? That’s quite disappointing, really,” Jiang Cheng says with a smile and Nie Mingjue rolls his eyes.

“We’re working our way up, once it’s officially a date and not just coffee. But you can owe me all the kisses you want.”

“I think I like that,” Jiang Cheng happily says and leans in to get started on repaying his debt right that instant.

It leaves Jiang Cheng breathless when they part and he’s strangely relieved to see that Nie Mingjue is not doing that much better himself.

“Your hand will be steady enough for this, right?” Jiang Cheng can’t help but to ask, because he wants that tattoo now and he would be disappointed if Nie Mingjue said no.

“I’m a professional,” Nie Mingjue huffs out, even as he gently cups Jiang Cheng’s cheek in his hand. “I managed to keep a steady hand all the other times, too, didn’t I?”

“That you did,” Jiang Cheng gives back and nuzzles into the hand.

They lose themselves a little bit in each other for a while, but eventually Nie Mingjue does get to prove that he has a steady hand, despite the circumstances.

Once the lotus flower on Jiang Cheng’s back is done, they go on their first official dinner date.

~*~*~

On their one year anniversary, Jiang Cheng gets Nie Mingjue to tattoo a green band around his right arm and Nie Mingjue manages to make it look like it’s shining from the inside.

Jiang Cheng catches Nie Mingjue wiping away a tear once he’s done and he would tease him for it, but since Jiang Cheng cried when Nie Mingjue revealed that the frog over his heart was for Jiang Cheng, he fears he has no leg to stand on.

Paw Prints Snake, expect imagine this spanning down the whole arm Lotus Pods Water, under Jiang Cheng's collarbone Lotus Flower, except it's in the middle of Jiang Cheng's back Green Band, there's no real pic for this, but imagine this ring as a tattoo around Jiang Cheng's forearm, because Mingjue's name is made up out of the characters for 'bright, shining' and 'jade ring' if google didn't lie to me

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #mingcheng #the untamed #mdzs #modern au #getting together #healing #tattoos #first kiss

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chaos-burst · 3 years

Text

direction to perfection

Dorian fought his parents to be here.

He fought tooth and nail to be allowed to live in a dorm, so there is no way he can back down from this decision. It’s his first shot at freedom and being normal and doing something for himself instead of his family.

Dorian will not back down.

He will persevere.

“Harder, come on!”

Loud moaning and the creaking of an old mattress accompany the dull thudding that comes from inside of his room. The room he’s currently standing in front of.

“I’m so close, so close, so close—“

Dorian stares at the door. His face is hot and he stands frozen in place as he tries to decide what to do. He needs his lute for the next bard class. He also needs to be far away from this room.

Gods, most of all he needs a new roommate.

“Oh, fuck, just like that—ah—“

Dorian closes his eyes and hides his face in his hands.

He was so proud after he finally convinced his parents to let him stay here. When he first entered his room he wasn’t even concerned about how small it was, or how his roommate’s bed was so close to his that stretching both their arms out would result in them touching hands.

And then he met Dariax, the guy he’s supposed to be living with for a long time.

“Dorian, are you literally standing here listening to Dariax bang someone inside of your room?”, Opal’s voice reaches his ears and he turns his head to look at her. She must see the desperation on his face because the next moment she gives him a pointed look before hammering her fist on the door.

“What the fuck, guys! Rent a room! And hurry up, Dorian needs his stuff!”

Dorian feels mortification creep from his face down into his stomach as he hears a loud thump, a shriek and a curse. The fact that Dariax knows that Dorian has been standing here makes him go through the five stages of grief so quickly that he can feel his insides churn.

Opal turns to face him and gives him a stern stop-putting-up-with-this look before she stalks away, twirling her dagger in her hand.

Dorian wishes it were that easy to voice what he wants.

To be sure of himself.

To live unashamed and free.

Sadly, his current repertoire covers none of these things.

The door gets yanked open and Dorian finds himself face to face with a white, half-elven woman wrapped in a bed sheet, her hair a complete and utter, blonde mess, her purple lipstick smeared across her left cheek.

“I was so close!”, she hisses as she holds up her index finger and thumb to indicate the fact that Dorian just ruined her earth-shattering orgasm.

“I—uh. I’m so—“

“Dorian! Gosh, I’m so sorry, I forgot that you had class, buddy!”

The half-elven woman throws Dorian the nastiest stink-eye and rushes down the corridor in nothing but the bedsheet wrapped around her. Dorian has no idea why she would do that, but Dariax distracts him.

Dariax, who is completely naked, his lips covered in purple lipstick, his cheeks flushed and his hair standing up from his head.

For decency, he’s holding a bottle of wine to cover his crotch.

Dorian wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

“I—uh. Sorry to disturb the—ah. Fun? I just. I just need to grab my lute real quick”, he says weakly, rushes over to his bed and grabs the lute leaning against the wall beside it.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, buddy, I’ll just go jack off in the shower, it’s no biggie.”

Dorian stares at Dariax who grins at him, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to say to someone in this situation.

“Sure. Have fun”, he croaks, his cheeks still flaming, and flees out of the room and down the hallway.

Dorian fought so hard to be here but gods, he wishes he were somewhere else right now.

The class he’s attending is one of his favorites—one that covers Bardic Inspiration as a form of self-expression, but it takes him a while to cool down from the mortifying ordeal of having Dariax as his roommate.

They’ve been living together for almost three months now and it’s not like it’s all bad.

Hell, Dorian likes Dariax.

He’s funny, doesn’t take himself too seriously, he tells ridiculous, entertaining stories and is loyal to a fault. But he’s also extroverted in a way that makes Dorian go insane. There is no moment of silence when Dariax is in the room—because Dariax hates silence. He also brings back so many different people to their room without asking Dorian first. Not all of them are Dariax’ lovers—at least not as far as he knows.

But they’re always loud, always messy and always completely oblivious to Dorian’s social cues.

Opal keeps ranting about how Dorian needs to reinforce his boundaries, but Dorian has no idea how to do that. Never in a million years would he bang on the door of his room if he knows that Dariax is having sex in there. Opal is always so loud and unapologetic about everything—Dorian envies her for it.

Dorian has never kissed anyone. Or had sex. Or anything in between these things. How the fuck both Dariax and Opal know exactly what they like and who they like is beyond him.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken?”, a soft voice says right next to him and Dorian is ripped out of thoughts and into reality. The class has been going for an hour and there’s someone standing next to him he’s never seen before.

She’s definitely some sort of fey—the whole lower half of her body is goat-like and her long ears are drooping. The amount of ribbons her dress is supporting is truly astounding and there is a whole crown of poisonous flowers on top of her head that she wears like a crown. Dorian blinks before catching himself.

“Ah—no. Please”, he says and gestures at the empty chair next to him.

The faun sits down carefully and watches as she carefully places a panflute on her thighs.

“Which bard college do you specialize in?”, Dorian asks.

“Hm? Oh, I’m not a bard. I’m majoring in druid. I just like to make music”, she answers with a smile.

Dorian never considered just taking classes that have nothing to do with his major. Maybe it would be something his parents would disapprove of even more than they did of his bard major and his choice to sleep in a dorm.

“I’m Fearne, by the way”, she adds and nods her heads slightly. A single leaf falls from her head and onto her panflute.

“Dorian”, he answers. Fearne smiles at him.

“You have very pretty hair”, she says.

“Oh. Ah—thank you? You—you too. Your hair, I mean. It’s—uh. Very green.”

Fearne’s smile widens.

“Thank you!”, she says in a tone that suggests that this might be the compliment she’s ever received. Dorian on the other hand wishes he could bite off his tongue. Your hair is very green. What kind of compliment is that? It’s no wonder that he didn’t have any chance to kiss anyone yet if this is all that he can come up with.

Dorian turns around and tries to concentrate on the professor’s lecture but his mind keeps wandering. He takes only a few notes and as he looks over at Fearne he sees that she’s doodling all sorts of mushrooms into her notebook. Then there is a small screech coming directly from her bag.

The class falls silent and everyone turns to look in their direction.

“What was that?”, professor Brooke asks with a confused look on his face. “I don’t remember any familiar registrations for this class.”

Dorian looks at Fearne who turns her head to look around at all the people staring in their direction.

“That was just me”, Fearne says and points to herself. “I ate too much pudding for breakfast.”

Professor Brooke looks embarrassed and very apologetic.

“I’m sorry, dear. Let’s continue then.”

As the lecture continues, Dorian leans over to Fearne.

“Didn’t that come out of your bag?”, he wants to know. Fearne shoots him a sly smile and gently lifts the flap of her green bag. Dorian stares at a small monkey peeking up at him with weirdly glowing eyes. Then the monkey raises his index finger to his mouth as if trying to tell Dorian to shut up.

Fearne closes the bag.

“That’s just Little Mister. He’s my… friend.”

“I see”, Dorian says.

He supposes that this is what he left home for—to meet all sorts of people, learn about all kinds of different things that he would never get in touch with while under his parents’ wings.

So Dorian decides to simply accept that some people are friends with monkeys and carry them around in bags.

If he can manage to live with someone like Dariax, he sure as hell won’t judge someone for bringing an animal companion to class.

After another fifteen minutes, Fearne leans over to Dorian again.

“I don’t understand this concept that the professor is talking about.”

“Oh, they explained it in the first half hour, before you got here.”

“Oh, I see. I was late”, Fearne says and looks disappointed, as if she was only now realizing this.

“Uh—yeah. Like, half an hour.”

“Time is kind of hard, you know. It’s like—it’s like this weird soup. And I don’t think I really have it memorized how to read clocks.”

Dorian stares at her.

“So. Are you not from here?”, he asks and groans internally at his phrasing. Fearne doesn’t seem to mind, though. She nods gratefully as Dorian pushes over his notes so she can look at them.

“No, not really. I come from the Feywild. We don’t really have clocks.”

“Because… time is a weird soup.”

“Yeah, exactly. Is that a saying here, too?”, she asks, her ears turning towards him full of excitement.

“Ah—no. I don’t think it is. Not here, at least.”

“Well, now you know it.”

Dorian nods and watches as Fearne studies his notes to copy some of them down into her notebook. He tries to imagine a world without clocks and immediately gets anxious at the prospect of always being late.

In the last twenty minutes of the lecture, they actually get to play their instruments.

“You play beautifully”, Fearne says after listening to Dorian play for a few minutes.

“Thank you! Your music is really different from what I know. It’s interesting.”

Fearne beams at him.

“Maybe we could make some music together some time?”, she asks.

“I would like that, yeah.”

Dorian isn’t bad at making friends, he’s just not as good or fast at it as Dariax. Maybe that’s because he’s a little more selective about the people he hangs out with, but Dariax just seems to consider everyone he talked to more than once his friend.

Dorian never really had friends growing up, so he doesn’t consider himself an expert. But at least for him Dariax’ way doesn’t seem to be all that great.

So when Dariax asks: “Hey, do you wanna come hang out with me and my friends tonight?” Dorian feels less than inclined to say yes.

“Uh—I already have plans”, he lies, trying to figure out if he should try to convince Opal to spend the evening with him or if he should just take this opportunity to have some peace and quiet in his room.

“Aw, man. Too bad. We wanted to go skinny dipping in the gym’s pool”, Dariax says.

“Isn’t that off limits at night?”, Dorian asks, his brow furrowed as he looks at Dariax’ face that breaks into a wide grin.

“Yeah, that’s why it’s fun to go there”, he answers and winks at Dorian. Dorian feels his cheeks grow hot and swallows as his intestines suddenly feel the need to writhe around like living snakes.

“Oh, well—I’m not really a—uh. A rebel boy, as they say”, he says and laughs nervously. “You go and have fun, though.”

He tries not to picture Dariax completely naked in the dim, shimmering light of the campus’ pool but he fails miserably. His palms start sweating.

“Oh, don’t worry, I will, I will. But hey, maybe next time!”

“Uh—yeah. Maybe”, Dorian says weakly as Dariax saunters out of their room and closes the door behind him. Dorian stares at the locked door for way too long and he’s endlessly glad that no one can see him.

This doesn’t seem like a normal thing to invite someone to. When he went to college to learn how to be a bard, he envisioned parties, maybe some illegal weed smoking on a restricted rooftop, at the most.

He did not envision to be asked to get butt naked, break into a gym with a pool at night and go swimming with a bunch of—probably drunk—strangers he doesn’t even know the names of.

That was, of course, before he got Dariax as a roommate.

Now Dorian feels like he should be prepared for anything.

As Dorian grabs his lute and sinks down onto his bed he wonders if Fearne lives on campus or if she lives in the Feywild and somehow manages to travel here for every class that she has. That would explain the time thing, he supposes, because he learned that time works differently on other planes.

This is the first evening in what feels like weeks that he has the room just to himself. In between the pieces he plays on his lute he simply sits on the bed, enjoying the silence. When he opens the window the cool breeze from outside reminds him of home and he closes his eyes for a little while.

It smells like rain and autumn outside. Dorian turns to look at the small room that’s his now. It’s nothing compared to the big, bright room he had at home, but it feels special simply because this is the first time he gets to do what he wants with a space without anyone breathing down his neck.

There’s not much in the room aside from their desks, beds and the closet they share, but Dorian pinned a few posters and postcards over his bed for the very first time. His bed is unmade—something that his parents would have never allowed—and there are fairy lights dangling from the ceiling that he actually picked out himself.

The desk is covered in sheet music and books and for a few seconds Dorian looks at the small picture of his brother and himself that is sticking to his pencil holder, before turning his gaze at some of the articles he printed out yesterday.

He might actually get some homework done in this blessed quiet.

At least that’s what he thinks until his phone rings.

At some point Dariax must’ve stolen Dorian’s phone and taken a selfie to make it pop up every time he calls Dorian, because as his phone lights up Dorian can see Dariax’ dopey smile appear. Dorian ignores the rush of heat he feels as he looks down at the glowing display, reaches for his phone and picks up the call.

“Dariax?”

“Dorian, hey buddy!”

He definitely sounds drunk, which doesn’t surprise Dorian. But there’s an edge to his voice that makes Dorian nervous.

“What’s up, Dariax?”

“I—uh. Remember how I told you that we were going to go skinny dipping in the gym and everything?”

“Yeah, I haven’t forgotten. It was like, three hours ago.”

“Cool, yeah. So the guys—“, and Dorian wonders who exactly ‘the guys’ are supposed to be, “were in a real funny mood. So. They stole my clothes and locked me in here—“

“They what?”

“I know, right? So… I tried to break open the lock, but I might be a little too drunk to get it right. And I was wondering—could you maybe bring me some clothes and get that door open for me?”

Dorian stares out into the night.

“How do you have your phone if they took all your stuff?”, he asks weakly.

“Had it with me in the pool to take some underwater selfies. It’s waterproof”, Dariax supplies cheerfully.

Dorian can see lights in the buildings all over campus and a crescent moon in the sky. He tries not to imagine what kind of pictures Dariax was trying to take of himself. Naked. In a pool.

“You want me to break open a door”, he repeats, just in case he misheard.

“I mean, kinda? Maybe? I really don’t wanna sleep in here. I slept in worse places, but it seems kinda shitty to wake up and immediately get into trouble for trespassing and all of that…”

Dorian isn’t sure if he wants to know in what kind of places Dariax has slept that count as worse as a college gym’s pool.

“But I guess I could just sleep in the showers or something.”

“I don’t really know how to get locks open”, Dorian sighs, but he’s already walking over to their shared closet. In theory, Dariax’ half is on the left, but he insists on just throwing all of his clothes in there without actually caring about which side they land on, so Dorian grabs some jeans, a hoodie and some underwear and stuffs it into his bag. He tries very hard not to look at the underwear too closely.

Dariax might not know what privacy is but that doesn’t mean that Dorian has to stoop down to the same level as his roommate.

“Fine. I’ll see what I can do”, he huffs.

“Aw, fuck yeah, you’re the best. I lo—“

“Bye”, Dorian calls and hangs up hastily before Dariax can finish.

His dreams of a quiet night dissipate into smoke as he throws the bag over his shoulder, grabs his keys, his jacket and his phone and leaves the room to head towards the gym.

Dorian, never in his life, has tried to open a lock with anything other than the key that was supposed to go into it. He doubts that he would manage to learn it in the heat of a moment so as he walks through the night, passing under a lantern every few steps he takes, he considers what he can do to get a locked door to open.

He is not strong enough to pry it open.

He has never learned how to do that trick with a credit card and isn’t sure if it would even work on this door even if he knew how.

There is no spell he knows that would be useful to open a door.

The only thing Dorian is good at is music and talking to people.

He makes his decision as he heads for the closest security guard patrolling campus at night.

“Excuse me, hi”, he says with the most honest and simultaneously nervous smile he can muster. The young man looks him up and down and seems to come to the conclusion that Dorian is worthy of his attention because his body turns towards him and offers a small smile back. He’s white withshort, brown hair, a long nose and arms full of tattoos.

“Can I help you?”, he asks.

“Well—this is so embarrassing. I—uh. I was in the gym earlier and I forgot my phone in there and my girlfriend wanted to call me tonight and I—uh. I already missed the last call so…”

He trails off as he tries to looks as bashful and stressed as he can—something that isn’t hard because Dorian still has to think about how Dariax is naked and probably dripping wet and how they’re most likely going to get into so much damn trouble.

“Oh wow, that sucks”, the security guard says and Dorian nods.

“Yeah, I’m—this is so dumb, I know you have better things to do, but… If you could just let me sneak in there for a minute and grab my phone? That would be a total life-saver, man”, he says and brings his hands up in front of his chest in a pleading gesture.

“Well, I guess we can make an exception. Don’t want to be the cause for trouble in paradise, right?”, he answers with a smile and Dorian forces himself to laugh.

“Thanks so much, I’ll drop off some cookies next time I see you around”, Dorian says and the security guard chuckles and makes a joke about bribery that Dorian doesn’t actually find funny but laughs about anyway. Since he officially ‘lost’ his phone he has no idea how to let Dariax know what his plan is.

All Dorian can do is hope that Dariax isn’t standing right behind the door butt-naked. Dorian supposes that he could always claim not to know him then—something that would only hold up for so long.

They walk towards the gym and Dorian can feel his heartbeat picking up.

What if he gets suspended? Kicked out? Sent home?

When they arrive in front of the gym everything is silent. Dariax is not banging on the door from the inside, calling Dorian’s name. Dorian decides to take that as a win as he nervously watches the guard fiddle for the master-key before opening the door.

“So, where did you leave your phone?”, the guard asks him and Dorian looks around hastily to see if he can spot Dariax anywhere.

“Uh—over on the benches, I’ll be right back!”, he says with an apologetic smile before rushing through the gym and towards the benches on the other side of the building.

“Dariax!”, he hisses into the darkness towards the corridor that leads to the locker-room and the pool.

“Hey bu—“

“Pscht. There’s a guard there. I had him open the door, you have to sneak out!”

Dorian starts crouching down on the floor and drops his bag so Dariax can reach it. He’s peaking his head out of the dark corridor and Dorian hopes that the security guard doesn’t spot him as he reaches his arm out towards the bag with Dariax’ clothes inside it.

“Did you find it?”, the guard calls over and Dorian can hear his footsteps coming closer. He hastily fishes for his phone and slides it under one of the benches.

“Not yet, it’s pretty dark in here”, he says. The rustling in the corridor next to him tells him that Dariax is hastily getting dressed.

“I have a flashlight, one sec”, the guard says and crouches down next to Dorian who feels bad for lying to the poor guy. He’s so friendly and forthcoming—Dorian decides that he actually has to get this man some cookies.

“Oh, there it is!”, he says and points to the left as the light of the torch reaches his phone.

“I’m afraid my arms too short to reach that”, the guard says and scoots back so Dorian can extent his arm and grab his phone. He tries hard not to look behind him to check if Dariax already made it out or not. He gets up, stuffs the phone into his pocket and dusts off his pants before turning towards the guard with an embarrassed smile.

“Man, thank you so much, this is really clutch.”

“No problem. I hope it works out with your girlfriend”, he answers and leads Dorian back towards the door.

“Thanks. If I see you again I’ll keep you posted!”

They step outside into the cool night air and Dorian can’t see Dariax anywhere. His heart is still beating rapidly in his chest and his palms are terribly sweaty. He wipes them off on his pants and decides that he needs a hot shower and his warm bed after this terrible disaster. His body feels as if he just ran a marathon.

So much for a quiet, peaceful night.

As soon as the guard leaves Dorian looks around frantically. If Dariax didn’t make it outside, there’s no way Dorian can convince this guy to open the gym up again without telling him the truth—something Dorian desperately does not want to do.

“Hey, over here!”

Dorian turns around and sees Dariax waving out of one of the bushes. His hair is wet and sticking to his forehead, his face is flushed and his eyes glassy, but he has a wide, reckless smile on his face that makes Dorian’s heart leap into his throat and press on his windpipe.

“What the fuck, man?”, Dorian hisses as he walks over to Dariax who gets up now, slightly swaying on his feet. There are some yellow leaves stuck in his auburn hair.

“Damn, buddy, that was awesome! You seriously have a velvet tongue, how did you even do that?”

“I asked nicely. What the actual fuck, Dariax? Why did your friends think that was a good idea?”

Dariax looks at him sheepishly and shrugs.

“Ah—to tell you the truth, I don’t know.”

“Sounds like they were fucking you over”, Dorian says and starts walking back towards the dorm. Some fine mist hangs between the trees, which look mostly black except for those who reach into the light of the street lamps. The orange and brown colored leaves remind Dorian of Dariax’ hair.

“Yeah. Sounds like it, huh.”

Dariax is quiet after that, something which Dorian, for some reason, finds even more disturbing than hearing Dariax’ sex-noises through a locked door.

“You okay?”, he asks after two minutes of walking in silence.

Dariax turns to look at him and the smile that appears on his face doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Yeah, sure. You know how it is, people just fuck you over. That’s how it works, I guess.”

“It doesn’t have to work like this”, Dorian says, his brow furrowed and his hands itchy to reach out and tussle Dariax’ wet hair for comfort. He doesn’t even know if Dariax wants to be comforted. Or wants to be comforted by Dorian specifically.

Dorian doesn’t even know why he feels the need to comfort Dariax, seeing as to how it’s his own fault for getting into such a situation in the first place.

“Hm, maybe. But I guess you showed up to save the day”, Dariax says, looking at Dorian thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I didn’t fuck you over”, Dorian agrees and holds open the door for them as they reach the dorm.

“Yeah. You didn’t. Thanks, buddy. I owe you one.”

The security guard’s name is Orym, he knows Fearne from taking some druid classes on the side on top of his fighter classes and he enjoys blueberry muffins.

“So, how did it go with your girlfriend?”, he asks while chewing on the muffin that Dorian handed him a few moments ago.

“We broke up”, Dorian replies with a gravelly voice and Orym pulls a face.

“I’m sorry, man.”

“Don’t worry about it. Thanks again for helping me with my phone.”

“It’s no problem at all. Thank you for this muffin.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you around.”

Dorian is pleased to find that the steady trickle of loud people that Dariax used to invite to their room before is thinning. He still goes out drinking and partying a lot, and he still has guests over to play Mario Kart or some horrible drinking game, but overall Dorian’s having more peace and quiet than ever before since he moved into this room with Dariax.

On a Wednesday night Dariax is sprawled out on his bed flipping through his phone. Dorian wonders if he’s going through his contacts, considering whom to call on for some. Well. Drinking or sex, probably.

Dorian hopes it’s not sex. And if it is sex, then for sex that is supposed to happen far away from here.

“How come you never go out?”, Dariax wants to know.

Dorian looks up from the sheet music he’s working on. He’s humming along quietly as he writes down, erases, writes down again and corrects the song he��s trying to write. He finds that he actually likes working in companionable silence, even though he didn’t think this would be possible with Dariax as his roommate a few weeks ago.

Dariax doesn’t seem to mind not talking as long as there is some sort of sound in the room—and Dorian’s humming apparently counts.

“How do you mean? I go out all the time”, Dorian says and looks up from his paper, cocking his head to regard Dariax who’s head is now hanging off of the side of the bed so he looks back at Dorian upside down.

“Yeah but like, partying. Drinking. College stuff, you know. You just hang out with the scary lady and she seems to like partying.”

“First of all, her name’s Opal. And I guess she can be kind of scary, but only if you’re a dick. And second of all, I hang out with other people! I met this very nice faun in my bard class and we’re making music from time to time. And—I don’t know. Partying is just not. Uh... It’s just not...”

Dorian sighs and leans against the wall behind him. The room is so scrappy that some of the wallpaper is coming down in little flakes in some places. He absentmindedly starts picking at his pillow.

“I never really went to parties before coming here. It’s just. I don’t know. New. I’m not like you. You know, with all the drinking and partying and—and uh. Sex. I guess.”

He can feel his ears burning and his cheeks heating up as he mumbles the end of his sentence. Dariax blinks at him and drops his phone on his face.

“Ow, fuck—okay. Wait. Are you saying that you’re a party-virgin and an actual virgin?”

“Oh come on, man, why do you have to say it like that? I’ve been to parties! But not—you know? College parties! And I never really drank alcohol before. It seems... I don’t know. Shifty.”

“Shifty”, Dariax repeats and a shit-eating grin spreads over his face, lighting up his eyes with a shimmer of mischief that Dorian finds very disconcerting.

“So you are a virgin.”

Dorian throws his pencil at Dariax and misses.

“So what? There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin! We can’t all walk around like you sleeping with people left and right!”

Dariax chuckles, obviously pleased with himself.

“Very true, I’m one of a kind. So, okay. But you kissed people, right?”, he wants to know.

“Why is that even relevant?”, Dorian hisses. He decides to throw his pillow next and Dariax almost falls off the bed trying to dodge it as he laughs.

“It’s not, I’m just curious! You’re always super uptight and mysterious, I know shit all about you and you’ve basically seen me banging someone at least twice!”

Dorian tries and fails to keep his poise as he flails his arms around.

“I could’ve lived happily without having seen any of that!”

“So that means you never kissed anyone?”, Dariax asks again, his grin wide and his eyebrows offensively wiggling. Dorian wishes he had some sort of cake that he could press Dariax’ face into.

“No, never. Are you happy now?”

“Would you like to kiss someone?”, Dariax wants to know and leans forward on the bed. He seems to have decided that sitting upright is the better choice in case Dorian decides to throw something else at him.

“I—I mean. I don’t know? I haven’t found the right person to kiss yet!”

“Ah, you’re one of those guys”, Dariax says with a wise nod that drives Dorian up the walls.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know? Like a romantic. True love and shit.”

“I wouldn’t—I. I haven’t really thought about it much. It’s not that important to me.”

Dariax pulls a face and nods, as if he understands perfectly what it means to not much care about kissing, sex or relationships. Dorian doubts that he actually understands with the frequency in which he drags people into his bed.

“I guess it’s not bad to wait for someone special”, Dariax concedes with a lopsided smile. “My first kiss was a total disaster, I didn’t know what I was doing at all and the dude told me it was like kissing a bowl of rice pudding.”

Dorian stares at him.

“That’s such a horrible thing to say”, he answers and Dariax shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess. He could’ve been nicer about it.”

Dorian’s brain is reeling.

Dariax had his first kiss with a guy. Dariax doesn’t only like women.

“Oh gods, I wish you hadn’t told me”, Dorian groans and presses the palms of his hands on his eyes until he sees little, colorful specs dancing on the inside of his eyelids. “What if I kiss someone I actually like and it turns out to be a completely terrible?”

He lowers his hands and stares at Dariax who stares back at Dorian with an intensity that surprises him.

“I mean. I guess you could just practice”, Dariax says.

“Oh yeah, sure. I’ll ask the first random person I meet in the hallway—“

“I would do it. Practice with you, I mean.”

Dorian blinks. He can feel the heat rising in his face and knows that his cheeks are turning purple.

“I—uh. That’s. Well. That’s very kind of you. But I’ll—I guess I’ll just figure it out on my own.”

Dorian chuckles nervously and glances back at Dariax who looks at him for a second longer before flopping back down onto his bed.

“Sure thing, buddy”, he says quietly and it’s probably just Dorian’s imagination that he sounds a bit disappointed.

“Dorian. Hey, Dorian!”

Dariax’ voice cuts through a dream about flying through space naked and Dorian opens his eyes. He is met with darkness and turns his head over to look towards Dariax’ side of the room. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to adjust and the confusion and sleep to drain out of him.

“Huh?”

“Hey, sorry. I—uh. I kinda had—I kinda had a nightmare?”

“Sorry to hear that”, Dorian rasps and rubs at his eyes, “was it the one about the giant dwarven woman again?”

“Ah, no. Not this time. I—uh. Do you mind maybe just… I don’t know. Talking to me a little? Or, ah—humming? I would scoot over but your bed is probably a bit too small”, Dariax rambles and laughs nervously.

Dorian is too tired to get flustered about the prospect of cuddling with his roommate.

“You can scoot over. But don’t hog the blanket”, he mumbles and makes room in his tiny bed, pressing his back against the wall and lifting his blanket up, his eyes already falling shut again.

“Oh fuck yeah”, he hears Dariax whisper. There’s a rustling, the sound of naked feet on a wooden floor and then the mattress dips and Dariax climbs into bed with him, his body way warmer than Dorian expected it to be.

He’s wearing nothing but boxers.

“You sure this is okay?”, Dariax whispers into the dark and Dorian makes a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat before letting the blanket fall down over Dariax. His arms simply drops which is probably way too close to a hug in this position as they lie face to face on the mattress that was not made for two people to sleep on it.

“Thanks a lot, buddy. You’re the best”, Dariax whispers. Dorian knows that Dariax is pretty dense simply because he’s a dwarf, but while he drifts back off to sleep he feels the tension in Dariax’ body. This nightmare must have been deeply upsetting for someone as carefree and jovial as Dariax to ask for goddamn snuggles in the middle of the night.

Dorian starts humming. It’s faint and definitely not his best and probably not even a real song, but slowly, ever so slowly, he can feel Dariax relax beside him as they both fall asleep again.

What his sleepy brain did not account for when Dorian allowed Dariax entry into his bed was how they might wake up in completely different positions to the ones they fell asleep in and how his body was a mean betrayer set out to humiliate Dorian.

As he slowly comes back to consciousness Dorian realizes how incredibly warm it is. The next thing he notices is that there is a quietly snoring dwarf pressed against his side, one leg pushed over Dorian’s legs. Dariax, sometime during the night, has curled into Dorian so his nose is now pressed somewhere close to Dorian’s ribs. He can feel Dariax’ hot breath tickle his exposed skin.

This is the most skin-on-skin contact Dorian has ever had with someone who is not related to him.

Dariax’ arm is curled around his waist and Dorian has no idea how he’ll be able to get to the bathroom without waking Dariax up or alerting him to the fact that Dorian is suffering a terrible case of a morning boner.

Yeah, he definitely didn’t think this through when he allowed Dariax in here. If Dariax pulls his leg up a little more his thigh will absolutely come in contact with Dorian’s dick and he is not ready for that to happen.

Not even a little bit.

Dorian can’t help but notice that Dariax smells kind of nice. And the feeling of naked skin on naked skin feels so much better than he imagined it would. He should probably not think about skin on skin contact too much in his current predicament but Dariax decides that this is the right moment to move his leg.

Dorian makes an undignified noise in the back of his throat as Dariax’ thigh rubs against his erection and before he can really consider what his best course of action might be, he’s already shoving Dariax off of him.

Since these beds are tiny, that also means shoving Dariax off the bed.

There is loud thunk as Dariax hits the floor and bolts upright with a yelp, his hair tousled and untidy, his eyes barely open.

“I didn’t do it!”, he slurs loudly, holding both hands up in a gesture of surrender and Dorian can’t help but wonder what in the nine hells Dariax has been dreaming about.

“Sorry, man. You were—uh. Getting a little close”, Dorian says and sits up, carefully pulling the blanket over his crotch.

Dariax blinks up at him.

“Sorry, buddy. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable”, he mumbles and sways to his feet to stumble back over to his own bed.

Dorian immediately misses the warmth and the feeling of naked skin against his but he pushes the thought away and clears his throat.

“Did you sleep okay after your nightmare?”, he asks.

“Hmhm. Like a baby”, Dariax mumbles into his pillow. His face is pressed into it and he didn’t even take the take to cover himself with his blanket. “You have the most beautiful voice.”

Dorian’s cheeks begin to burn and he grips the blanket tighter.

“Thank you.”

“’S no problem.”

Dorian glances over at his roommate. Dariax looks surprisingly peaceful like this and it doesn’t take long for him to fall asleep again. The quiet snore returns and his mouth falls open slightly. When Dorian finally gets up to take a shower, he shivers slightly in the cold before carefully stepping over to the other bed and pulling the blanket over Dariax.

“You know what, I feel honored that you’re going to trust me with your first time”, Dariax says, looking endlessly pleased with himself.

Dorian sputters.

“Excuse m—“

“Your first time drinking, buddy”, Dariax explains and laughs as he sees the flush on Dorian’s cheeks.

They’re both sitting on Dariax’ bed—because Dariax doesn’t care about getting spots on his sheets at all—with a bottle of liquor that is bright red and looks a little radioactive.

“Well, I think I would just—uh. Prefer it… to try this out with someone I trust before I make a fool of myself in front of a whole party, you know”, Dorian says. When no answer comes, he turns his head to look at Dariax.

Dariax’ eyes are shimmering with something that Dorian can’t quite read but it makes his heart race in his chest. Dariax never looked at him like this before. His expression is almost soft with the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Glad to hear you trust me, Dorian. I trust you, too.”

Dorian clears his throat and looks away, the tension in the air between them suddenly too much for him.

“I am very trustworthy”, he jokes and grabs the bottle to unscrew it and smell the liquid inside.

“Ugh—it’s revolting”, he remarks and coughs a little.

Dariax chuckles.

“That’s how you know it’s good”, he says with a nod and gestures for Dorian to take the first sip.

Dorian has tried some champagne before, some beer. Some wine. But never more than half a glass. He never tried drinking any hard liquor and this stuff is burning his throat and sending heatwaves through his whole body immediately.

“Wow”, he coughs and hands the bottle to Dariax.

“Good stuff, right?”, Dariax says and

“It’s terrible!”

“Yeah”, Dariax says with a wide grin and a twinkle in his eyes.

“I don’t think a thing can be both good and terrible at the same time”, Dorian remarks, his face still in a grimace as he tries to get used to the burning sensation of hard alcohol in his throat.

“Nonsense, those are like, all of my favorite movies!”, Dariax says and takes a huge swig out of the bottle before handing it back to Dorian.

Dorian feels weirdly honored that Dariax decided to stay in on a Saturday night just to hang out with him and test the waters with his roommate while no doubt all his friends are out there partying.

“Like what movies”, Dorian wants to know and takes another careful sip out of the bottle. His mind provides him with the terrible thought that this might as well count as an indirect kiss, something that is entirely idiotic and not useful at all.

“Okay, so, you know when someone asks you a question about yourself and suddenly you have forgotten all of your interests and hobbies and favorites and pretty much everything about yourself?”, Dariax says, his brow furrowed as he tries to think of a movie that is both terrible and good at the same time.

“Tell you what. I can say that two of my favorite movies of all time are Pacific Rim and Mad Max, and those are not terrible, mind you, they’re just good. But if I manage to think of one that is both terrible and good, I’ll tell you immediately.”

Dorian has neither seen Mad Max nor Pacific Rim. When he tells Dariax as much his roommate looks aghast.

“Oh my gosh, Dorian. Buddy. My boy. That is—no. No, I can’t let this stand. Grab your laptop, we’re watching Pacific Rim right now”, Dariax orders and looks at Dorian expectantly.

This is how Dorian ends up crying about giant robots. And maybe also brothers.

Dariax hands him a tissue and sniffs.

“Good stuff, right?”, Dariax asks and empties the bottle as the end credits start rolling. Dorian nods and watches as Dariax throws the empty bottle to the side before pulling out a second one from under his bed.

Dorian is definitely tipsy. He drank way less than Dariax, of course, but he can feel a faint buzzing in his head and his vision seems to be slowed. There is a feeling of heaviness in his legs as he accepts the new bottle—this time the liquor is bright blue and tastes even worse—and drinks.

The new sensations in his body aren’t unpleasantly.

In a way, his soul feels lighter like this, less anxious, less unsure about things, which is pretty nice.

“So, what’s your favorite movie?”, Dariax wants to know.

“I—hm. I don’t know. I’m not much of a movie guy. I suppose I liked Lord of the Rings when I watched it a few years ago”, he says, thinking about the movies he has seen and which ones he enjoyed the most. Weirdly enough it’s exactly as Dariax said—now that someone asked about what he likes, Dorian can’t seem to remember much about himself.

“Good choice”, Dariax says with an approving nod that makes Dorian feel weirdly pleased.

“I guess we could totally do a Lord of the Rings marathon, you know? Get some snacks, order pizza, get fucked up. Hey, we could make it a drinking game!”

Dorian isn’t sure why there’s a tingling sensation under his skin, or why his heart starts beating faster in light of Dariax’ suggestion. Maybe it’s because he feels happy that Dariax wants to spend more time with Dorian. Maybe it’s just because the alcohol is getting to Dorian.

“What about your other friends?”, Dorian asks.

“What about them?”

“Well—wouldn’t you rather spend more time with them? You know—partying. Going skinny dipping. That sort of thing.”

Dorian knows that he’s fishing for compliments. He knows and he feels embarrassed about it but he can’t stop. Validation is something that he craves way too much for his own comfort, but the alcohol has lowered his defenses—or raised his stupidity. Either one of those.

“Well—you know when we went skinny dipping and they fucked me over, that was like. Not cool? And you got me outta there, even though you don’t really do that sorta thing, you know? So—that was not the first time I got fucked over by people I called my friends, but it was totally the first time someone bailed me out of stuff. So yeah. I’d rather stick with you, if that’s alright with you”, Dariax says, taking a few long gulps from the bottle of blue liquid.

Dorian feels a rush of heat under his skin. It’s not unusual for him to feel strongly about being praised or validated, but it usually doesn’t hit this hard.

He swallows and laughs nervously, grabbing the bottle from Dariax and taking a big sip that burns his throat.

“Yeah—yeah, alright”, he croaks and Dariax beams at him.

“I’m sorry, by the way. That—uh. That those people left you behind”, he adds quietly and hands the bottle back to Dariax.

“Oh, you know. I suppose it’s on me. I’m not very smart and I’m not good on my own, so I tend to follow people’s leads and they—uh. I guess they get bored with me, or something? Anyway. It’s not really important. Hey, how do you feel about watching Mad Max, too?”

“Hey, my friend is throwing a party on Saturday. Do you want to come?”

“Are you kidding? Do I wanna take your partying virginity? Hell, yes!”

“Dariax...”

“Sorry buddy, I got carried away.”

Dorian is still thinking about rice pudding on Friday.

The fact that somewhere out there is a person who would tell someone else something mean like this makes him nervous to try and kiss anyone. What if he actually likes the person he’s kissing and gets told that his kisses feel like a bowl of rice pudding?

Or worse, something even slimier?

He’s trying to get another song for one of his bard classes done, but he’s unable to concentrate.

“Hey, Dariax”, he says and looks over at Dariax who’s watching cat videos on YouTube, “can I ask you something? About—uh. About... kissing?”

Dariax looks up at him with bright eyes.

“Sure”, he says and grins.

Dorian swallows.

“Uh—I was thinking. How—uh. How did you get better at kissing? Did you practice with anyone?”

“Nah, not really. I mean, not like that. I just went for it again and again until I got better at it. Guess it would’ve been nice to have someone around for practice, but I made it work anyway. No one’s been complaining for a while now.”

Dorian chews on his bottom lip and pokes the paper he’s working on with a pencil.

“So—uh. You said—“

“Yes”, Dariax shoots back immediately, as if he knows what Dorian is going to say next. Dorian feels the familiar heat rise up in his chest as he looks at his roommate who seems very intense all of a sudden, leaning forward and shutting his laptop, his eyes fixed on Dorian.

“I—uh. I don’t. I don’t really... I don’t like... guys?”, Dorian says and his voice sounds way too hoarse in his own ears. Dariax’ shoulders sag a little but he shrugs.

“Doesn’t really matter for this, right? It’s just kissing.”

“Right. Okay. Uh—so. If I—if I wanted to try this... how do you—how do we make this work?”, he asks.

His heart is beating so fast, Dorian is afraid it’s going to break his rib cage and fly out of the window. Dariax puts his laptop to the side and pats the mattress beside himself, his eyes still fixed on Dorian’s face with an intensity that makes heat pool in Dorian’s lower abdomen.

He pushes the feeling aside and gets up from his own bed to sit down next to Dariax.

“I know what this is about”, Dariax says with a sly grin.

“Uh—you do?”

Dorian doesn’t know what this is about aside from his own nagging sense of anxiety and the fact that he can’t stop thinking about kissing Dariax—which is entirely Dariax’ fault because he offered this whole practicing thing in the first place.

“Yeah. You’re going to check out some ladies on that party tomorrow”, Dariax says, his grin widening as he scoots closer to Dorian. Dorian can feel Dariax’ body heat and he presses his back against the wall, his fingers digging into the blanket crumpled below his legs.

“Ah—yeah. You got me”, he lies and laughs nervously. Dariax winks and gives him fingerguns.

“Don’t worry, buddy. I gotcha! I’ll be the best wingman ever. Here, just lemme—“

And Dariax climbs into Dorian’s lap, straddling him, his face so close to Dorian’s that Dorian can feel his breath on his cheek.

He holds his breath as he notices all the freckles on Dariax’ face, his scruffy beard, his hazel-brown eyes...

His heart is stumbling in his chest.

“Thanks”, he rasps.

“No need to be nervous, I’m sure you’ll be way better at this than I was the first time around. Just lemme take the lead, okay?”

Dorian nods.

If he gets hard now, Dariax will definitely feel it.

Fuck.

Dariax raises his hands and tilts Dorian’s chin up while his other hand gently cups Dorian’s cheek. It’s already almost too much for Dorian. His lips open slightly and his eyes widen as Dariax gets closer still, his nose gently touching Dorian’s.

“If you want me to stop, just smack me real hard”, Dariax whispers and his breath tickles Dorian’s lips before the distance between their mouths is closed and Dariax is kissing him, his hazel-brown eyes closed.

Dariax’ lips are warm and a little chapped and Dorian gasps against his mouth helplessly—something that Dariax seems to take as encouragement. He tilts his head to the side to get a better angle and then his lips press against Dorian’s in earnest.

Dorian’s heart stops for a few seconds before restarting with doubled speed.

His whole body seems to be on fire all of a sudden and he can’t help but raise his hands to touch Dariax—just touch him anywhere. He needs to ground himself, hold onto something, or he might just get lost in the feeling of Dariax’ warm lips carefully moving against his.

It’s a slow kiss, almost sweet, but Dorian’s skin is set aflame.

I don’t like guys, he thinks as his whole body decides that he must get closer to Dariax, wrap his arms around him, pull him in, cup the back of his head so he doesn’t move away—

“This okay?”, Dariax mumbles against his lips and he sounds so out of breath as if he just sprinted a whole mile.

“Yeah—I. Yeah.”

“You wanna try with tongue?”

Dorian swallows. There is still heat pooling in his abdomen. He should say no. He should stop doing this. This feels dangerous and stupid.

But it also feels so good.

“Yeah, okay”, he whispers.

Dariax doesn’t wait for another invite, he immediately leans forward again to close the distance between them and as Dorian’s hands dig themselves into the back of Dariax’s shirt and his heart starts racing even faster Dariax slides his tongue into Dorian’s mouth and Dorian’s mind goes blank.

There is a sound that is dangerously close to a moan and it takes him a few seconds to realize that it’s coming from him.

He holds onto Dariax like a drowning man before he manages to kiss back.

The second their tongues slide against one another there is a sound from Dariax too, one that shoots directly into Dorian’s lap. His hips buckle up involuntarily, his arms wrap around Dariax tighter and Dariax presses closer, his hips grinding down against him.

Dorian is lost.

And he’s so, so fucked.

It feels so incredibly good to kiss Dariax. He forgot why he even started kissing him, all he knows that he doesn’t want to stop, that he wants to get closer, wants to touch more skin—

He’s hard by now, and so is Dariax. Dorian can feel his erection through the jeans that Dariax is wearing.

Dorian buries his hands in Dariax’ hair and pulls. Dariax makes a helpless sound and bites down on Dorian’s bottom lip before sucking on it lightly and Dorian is afraid that he might come in his pants just from kissing and the delicious friction of Dariax’ crotch rubbing against his.

Shit, shit, shit, shit—

Before Dorian can make a fool of himself Dariax pulls back.

He’s panting, his eyes are glassy, his lips red and wet from kissing and he looks so pretty, Dorian is momentarily stunned by the revelation that he might not be into girls or guys or pretty much anyone.

But he’s definitely, terribly, irrevocably into Dariax.

Fuck.

“S—sorry”, Dariax gasps and clambers off of Dorian’s lap. “That was—I’m. I—uh. I got carried away a little. Didn’t mean to overstep any boundaries.”

Dorian swallows and stares at him, his eyes wide and his heart pressing against his rib cage.

“It’s okay”, he rasps. “I—uh. I got a little carried away, too.”

Dariax throws him a lopsided smile.

“Well. I’d say you’re good to go.”

And he gets off the bed and stumbles over to the bathroom, leaving Dorian behind with a rapidly beating heart, tingling lips and the revelation that he has the world’s worst crush on Dariax.

#doriax #critfic #exu fic #critical role #dariax zaveon #dorian storm #exandria unlimited #exu #fanfiction #screeching into the void #text #this has an M rating on ao3 jsyk #we have ~9k of practice kissing/college au magical realism here my guys #dorian #dariax

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quicksilverownsmysoul · 3 years

Text

Sparks pt.1

Quicksilver is my current obsession and I’ve been missing his content especially x-men content so I decided to create this fic! Hey y’all this is gonna be my first fic on this account so excited to share it with y’all Be sure to like, follow and comment to let me know what you think! (Full disclosure it’s been a while since I’ve watched the X-Men movies so some facts may be off. I am gonna try and rewatch them soon)

Word Count: 1214

Peter noticed that there were more people than usual gathered outside the school when he arrived. He had just come back from his house, going home for the weekend to restock on his supplies of various hostess snacks. There was a gym bag slung over his shoulder filled with them and a new walkman which just happened to end up in his bag when he was speeding through a convenience store. Totally not stealing.

There seemed to be an event of some kind going on, he cocked his head to the side and took another bite of his twinkie, his fifth one in the last hour. There also seemed to be a lot of noise and faint music coming from the house. Maybe Charles finally decided to loosen up and let him have the summer party he’d been bugging him about for the last couple months. He took one last bit of this Twinkie before readjusting his goggles and zooming up the path that led to the school. Time slowed as he picked up speed, the bees that buzzed past seemed to move in slow motion, he smirked and sped up even more.

He came to a stop a few meters away from the entrance of the school. Even as he stopped the world around him remained frozen, everyone stuck in their current positions, as he was free to roam. Peter looked around and saw a banner hanging from the archway of the school. It read, New Students Welcome. The writing was clearly Jubilee's and it was covered in glitter, as he passed underneath it some of it rained down on him. It was colored blue and yellow, horrible color choices in his opinion. So it was orientation day then, not his summer bash of the century, bummer. That didn't mean he couldn't have some fun messing with the newbies. Charles was sitting outside the school, hand extended greeting a new student. Peter ran up to the student and messed up his perfectly combed hair and flicked his finger against his chest every so slightly. He then proceeded to terrorize the rest of the newcomers, tying their shoelaces together or swapping their suitcases with one another. He even messed with some of the school's current students, stealing Scott’s sunglasses, moving Jean away from Scott and posing her and some new kid so it looked like they were making out. Placing a spider in Jubilee’s hair. He stood back and admired his handwork, planning on zooming away to his dorm before getting caught. But then he saw Kurt out of the corner of his eye. Of course this wouldn't be complete without messing with his favorite blue buddy. As he ran up to Kurt he noticed that he was talking to someone with a smile frozen on his features. That was rare, Peter slug his arm around Kurt and followed his eyes to see who was making him smile in that way. It was a girl with (y/h/l) (y/h/c) hair, she was wearing a Queen band shirt tucked into a pair of blue jean shorts. Her hair was blowing around her face, which was lit up in a brilliant smile, eyes squeezed shut as she laughed at something that Kurt had just said.

Peter felt himself smile as he looked at you, maybe with you here this place wouldn't be as unbearable. A tinge of annoyance wiggled his way into his heart at the fact that you were laughing with Kurt instead of with him. He continued to stare at you until he realized the whole reason he had come over to you guys to begin with. He took out a sharpie he had pocketed from the convenience store, he popped the cap off with his teeth and twirled it for a moment before deciding what to do with it. He decided to doodle a mustache on Kurt’s upper lip. He then turned to you, marker still in hand. He looked at you for a moment more before deciding that he wasn't going to mess with you, at least for now. That was until he saw the yellow scrunchie on your wrist. Surely you wouldn’t notice if it went missing, and if you did he’d have a reason to talk to you. He slipped it off your arm holding your hand in his, taking a silent note of how well it fit in his own. He took the scrunchie and stuffed it into his pocket along with the Sharpie. He then made a move to dash away thinking about how he could dash back and make a grand entrance. One that would hopefully impress you. But fate had other plans as he moved to run. He tripped over Kurt’s tail and landed flat on his face. Time caught up with him and everything seemed to happen all at once. The new kid fell back on his butt, Jubilee screamed for someone to get the spider off her, Jean pushed away the kid that she had been set up with and Scott gritted his teeth in an annoyance. A loud collective shouting of Peter rang out.

Kurt poofed away in surprise and you let a little laugh out at his expense. Peter was sprawled out on the floor, hair a mess. He was cursing under his breath about Kurt and his stupid tail and how he was gonna chop it off one of these days. He made a move to try and get up before you noticed him but Kurt reappeared on top of Peter. Peter let out a groan in protest of the unwelcomed weight. Kurt’s voice joined the chorus of cursing Peter’s name. You looked at Kurt with an eyebrow raised and let out an airy laugh “Peter? Who’s Peter?”

An annoyed look rested on Kurt’s face as he pointed down to the silver speedster still laying at your feet. You looked down to see Peter lying on the ground frozen as you locked eyes with him. He felt his face turn red and cleared his throat letting out a choked “Hi.” An octave too high. He then got up a record speed, knocking Kurt off him, pushing past the crowd and disappearing inside the school. He clutched his gym bag to his chest trying to calm himself down as he ripped into a Twinkie. His heart was beating incredibly fast and he could feel his face getting warmer by the second. He couldn't believe that he had made such a fool out of himself in front of you. He peered around the corner and saw you helping up Kurt with a smile on your face. Great, he had helped you guys get closer.

You helped Kurt back to his feet as you picked up the snack cakes that had fallen out of Pete’s gym bag during his getaway. “Peter seems-”

Kurt cut you off, ‘Annoying.”

You let out a little snort. I was gonna say “interesting.”

“If you say so.” Kurt changed the subject and offered to carry in your bags. Your reluctantly gave him one and you both made your way into the school. Peter watched you two as you came in and promised that the next time you meant he wouldn’t make a fool out of himself.

I hope y’all enjoyed the first part! If it does well I’ll be updating it next Wednesday! In the meantime send me fic or headcannon requests to my inbox and I’ll reply as soon as I can!

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sunder-soul · 3 years

Note

first of all your work is AMAZING- like damn that smut? 👀 but anyway- i’ve had this concept for awhile imagine that reader was the one who made the design for the dark mark for tom riddle? like y/n is an artist and likes to draw, paint, all that jazz, and she saw the symbol in like her dreams or something and decided to draw it. and then tommy boy sees it and takes a liking to it like, “...i could use that-“ i don’t if this is a weird ask or not but i thought it was interesting. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So this has been in my inbox for so long bc I just couldn’t crack how I wanted to tackle it and then yesterday BOOM I had an idea so here I am!! Hope you enjoy 💖

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Consume

Summary: Reader looks into Tom Riddle’s tea leaves on an unlucky day in Divination. Something looks back.

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: none.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’ve heard of the domino effect before, but never has it been so grimly demonstrated to you than in that exact moment standing in front of the entire Divination classroom with the only spare seat left opposite Tom bloody Riddle.

It started (or at least, as far as you can tell) an entire week earlier when you’d walked in on Ophelia Greengrass sobbing in the fourth-floor girl’s bathroom during second period. Up until then you’d not spoken more than half a dozen words to Ophelia across your entire time at Hogwarts, but it had felt wrong not to say anything – and as it turned out, Ophelia had been in dire need of someone saying something to her. She’d been dating Lestrange for a little over three months and by the sounds of it things were not going well.

So of course you’d comforted her as best you could but it was hardly surprising when she tentatively approached again you the next day, and the next, and the next, and then every single day for an entire week there had been a new horror story until yesterday you’d finally had enough and told her that she should break up with him.

That, of course, was why he’d confronted you in the corridor that morning on the way to Charms, angrily accusing you of losing him his girlfriend. And that was why you and Lestrange had been caught by Peeves with a watering can full of Bulbadox juice brandished gleefully in his spindly hands.

Which was how you both ended up in the hospital wing for the entirety of first period, Lestrange with boils all over his face and down his back, and you with them on your hands from where you’d managed to shield yourself.

You’d left Lestrange behind complaining loudly as the matron peeled back his school shirt, sprinting all the way up to the Divination tower at breakneck speed, throwing the trapdoor to the classroom open and scrambling inside, the trapdoor falling shut behind you, the very final domino.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor,” you gasp as you spin around to face her. “Peeves caught me and Lestrange!”

The class snickers.

“That’s quite alright, quite alright…” Cassandra Trelawney says, deep and ringing, “we have not yet started, take a seat with Mr Riddle and we shall begin…”

You freeze. Riddle…?

That’s when it hits you.

Lestrange always sat with Riddle in Divination.

And you’re so late that everyone else already has partners.

You turn to see Tom Riddle sitting at the back of the room looking at you with a polite but blank expression on his face. The class giggles again. The vast majority of Hogwarts students are at least somewhat in love with Riddle – beautiful, intelligent, polite Riddle, orphaned and poor but refined and successful. Better yet he barely speaks to anyone, leaving a lot of empty space of endless possibility for people to fill in with their personal daydreams.

He scares you.

Those horrible boys that hang around him remind you of flies hanging around rotting meat. And if they’re the flies, that makes Riddle…

You grit your teeth and step forward, weaving between the other tables and snickering students to take your seat, dropping your bag to the floor and eyeing the tea set on the small table apprehensively.

“Begin your readings!” Trelawney calls.

You frown and turn to Riddle questioningly. “We’re doing tea leaves?”

“Tasseography,” he corrects smoothly, leaning forward and picking up the burnished copper pot with one hand and pouring steaming tea into the little china cup in front of him.

You blink at him silently. There’s something manufactured about his face that you can’t put your finger on.

“Shall I go first or would you like to?” Riddle asks casually, pouring you a cup, too.

“I don’t mind,” you mumble, looking away.

Riddle sets the pot down and picks up his cup in long, elegant fingers, lifting it to his lips. “The instructions are on page seventy-nine,” he says after taking a sip, looking around the room disinterestedly.

You pull out your book and find the right chapter and scan the first few paragraphs as Riddle finishes his tea, sipping absently at your own, and by the time he finally hands you his cup your heart rate has finally returned to normal from running up eight flights of stairs.

“You have a scattered-type formation,” you say, checking it against the diagram on your page, “and it’s north-west oriented.”

“Mhmm,” Riddle says noncommittedly, his dark eyes level on the parchment before him as he takes notes.

You lean forward over Riddle’s cup and frown as you compare it to the pictures in the book. “That looks like shepherd’s crook,” you say, pointing to a cluster shaped like a pinched hook, “which means… either the responsibility to protect, or the exertion of power and authority over a group of people.”

Riddle scoffs very lightly, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he continues to write.

Something about it had clearly struck a chord with him, but you pointedly train your eyes back on your book. “Oh,” you frown, checking his cup again. “Or it’s the old glyph for seven.”

Riddle stops writing. You look up curiously at the sudden lack of his quill scratching evenly on his parchment to find him perfectly still, his eyes on your face. “Seven?” he repeats, tone distinct.

You nod and push your book around to show him. “The number seven used to be drawn like that, too.”

Riddle’s eyes drop to the page and linger there for a moment before he resumes taking his notes – though his expression is much more preoccupied than before.

But something in Riddle’s cup has caught your eye. Beside the shepherd’s crook/number seven is a lump of tea leaves so distinct in form that it’s almost comical – the round of the cranium, the square of a mandible, and gaps in the leaves to indicate two eye sockets.

“Oh,” you say in surprise, pulling your book back around. “Wow, that’s pretty clearly a…”

You trail off, frowning. You’ve noticed the tea leaves below it, the long twisting trail that leads directly into the skull’s mouth. A cold, creeping feeling is curling in your stomach as something about the image before you seems to move, you can almost see the thing writhing, it almost looks like a…

“How are we going?” Trelawney asks, suddenly right beside you.

You jump, looking up at her in panic. “Fine,” you say quickly.

She lifts her brows, assessing you thoughtfully. “Hmm,” she says, before glancing at Riddle. “And you?”

“Fine,” Riddle echoes smoothly. But he’s not looking at Trelawney.

He’s looking at you.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The image worms into your thoughts like a deep root, twisting into places you don’t expect to find it and spreading itself out more and more. The dreams are first, and then the nightmares, and finally the night terrors. The skull hovers before you, its pitch, hollow eyes bore into you, the snake coiling endlessly with its fangs yawning wide.

Something about it is cold and evil, some sort of strange perversion of an ouroboros, the eternal snake broken by the skull’s mouth.

Consuming it.

“What is that?”

Your head snaps up from your parchment feeling like you’ve just been jolted awake from a deep sleep, and it takes you a second to process the sight of Tom Riddle before you, his eyes fixed attentively on the parchment strewn on top of the essay you’re supposed to be writing.

He’d caught you drawing it for the hundredth time.

“Nothing,” you say hastily, sliding it away under a book. “Just a doodle.”

Riddle’s eyes flick to yours. There’s a cold rigidity to his expression that you don’t like. It’s a coldness that feels horribly familiar.

For a moment you almost think he’s going to force you to show him, but after a long moment Riddle looks away and he’s gone, disappearing off further into the library. You exhale in relief and pull out the parchment again.

Drawing it made the thoughts go away for a bit, like manifesting the horrible thing distracted it from its need to live in your head. You lift your quill and carefully write a single word next to the skull.

Consume.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The parchment goes missing the next day.

You never prove that he took it, never even mention it to him, but Riddle’s eyes have a cold glimmer to them when he catches your eye in Divination next, the smallest curl to his lips like he’s daring you to bring it up.

The dreams abruptly stop.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When you see it next, it’s in a photo on the front page of the Daily Prophet beneath a terrified headline, a spectre hovering just like it had in your nightmares at school years prior. Except this time it’s real. This time it’s above the burning remains of the family home of a prominent Muggle-born politician and Voldemort’s name is a shadow on everyone’s lips.

You stare at it on the page, the snake writhing in ink, the black, hollow eyes of the skull, and you think about Tom Riddle’s cold smile watching you from across the classroom, his manufactured beauty, the boys that hung around him like flies around rotten meat.

He’s named it the Dark Mark.

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