#but i Love a game that leans into poetry and makes you feel when you think

[zincbot]

i'm really enjoying disco elysium. way more than i thought i would it's just a really good game

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

GO FOR IT! ; YUUTA OKKOTSU

synopsis; yuuta’s been crushing on you ever since the first group project you had together, but he’s too nervous to confess. luckily, he has some over-eager friends willing to help! step 1: ask for your number!

word count; 7.4k

contents; yuuta okkotsu/reader, gn!reader, university au, yuuta majors in creative writing and writes poetry in his spare time <3, no curses au, yuuta is a cutiepie, he’s also a loserboy, pining and longing, unrequited love, maki inumaki and panda are wingmen (but not very good ones), fluffy vibes, gojo makes a guest appearance (stay safe), literally just yuuta being whipped for like 7k words straight

a/n; im gonna have to edit this a lot i think….. but for now it should be fine :3 i love the boy!!

”you’re staring. again.”

yuuta flinches. a jolt overtakes him, running through his body, and the pen he’d been absently writing with slips from his fingers. it tumbles down to the ground with a soft thunk. 

gazing up at the shadow towering over him, his eyes are wide, a little flustered; like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. like he’s expecting a smack on the head from the person in front of him.

— it’s maki. 

and she looks displeased, lips pursed and a single eyebrow raised. unimpressed, as she stares him down — the same way he’d been looking at you just a second ago.

”they’re gonna think you’re a creep if they catch you, you know,” she sighs, shifting from one foot to another. carrying her bass in a case on her back.

”maki, c’mon,” comes from behind her, an even larger figure strolling up to the pair. grinning brightly, fluffy hair tousled by the afternoon breeze. ”cut him some slack!” 

”salmon,” a third voice joins in. inumaki’s got some green paint staining the sleeve of his hoodie, and his fingers are dirtied with charcoal.

his closest friends, all joining him on the table they usually frequent on campus. right next to a giant tree, casting a pleasantly cool shade and obscuring the irritating brightness of the sun.

maki, headstrong and resilient. infamously rude. a music major, primarily, though yuuta knows she has more than a couple minors. if you pay attention, you can see her almost everywhere on campus, and she always does well on exams. confident, enough so that just being around her makes yuuta feel a little more secure in himself.

panda, a big kid with a big heart, always wearing monochrome clothes. ‘panda’ can’t possibly be his real name, though yuuta’s never found the courage to ask. truthfully, he isn’t sure panda even has a major, or goes to this university at all — but nobody’s mentioned it yet, and he doubts they ever will.

and then inumaki, the quiet kid, always helpful and kind. a little teasing, too. selectively mute, speaking exclusively in rice ball ingredients, but yuuta has already begun adjusting to the thought behind his phrases. an art student with remarkable talent, from sculptures to comics to paintings. he mostly spends his lectures playing games on his phone, though. and he's the kindest guy yuuta knows.

his beloved friends. the reason he can smile through each day, even when it’s a little difficult.

and maki’s right, he knows she is. if you were to lock eyes with him, and realize he’d been glancing over at you for the past ten minutes… god, he doesn’t even want to think about it. you’d be weirded out for sure, wouldn’t you?

but yuuta just can’t help it. you’re far too radiant to ever look away from, smile much too pretty.

you’re just sitting there, laughing and talking with your friends, the same as any other day. comparing hand sizes with miwa, or leaning over to whisper in mai’s ear. snorting over something momo said, or trying to understand the code kokochi’s fiddling with on his laptop. just being yourself, with people you’re close to.

and yuuta desperately wishes he could be among them. wishes he could see your honeyed smile up close, hear the melodic lilt of your laughter, breathe in the lingering scent of your shampoo. he wishes he could speak to you without stuttering, without tripping over his feet — hang out with you outside of class. just something small, like studying together, or grabbing a bite to eat.

he wishes he could get to know you. 

yuuta thinks he must seem like a fool, to be so affected by your mere presence. everything comes to him so easily, when he looks at you; the pitter patter of his heart, his sweaty hands, the whirlwind of butterflies swirling in his chest. even just the way you twirl your hair or chew on your pencil is so mesmerizing. 

so all he can do is stare, hopeless, a moth to a flame. basking in the warmth of your gaze, directed at your friends.

hoping one day, maybe… that warmth will fall upon him, as well.

(maybe one day.)

”hellooo? earth to yuuta!”

”see? he’s hopeless.”

”mentaiko…”

”inumaki’s right. he’s a man in love!”

”he’s a boy with a stupid crush,” maki scoffs, picking at a piece of lint on her tank top. ”and we have a study session we need to get done. the exam’s next week, remember?”

exam.

yuuta shoots up, wasting no time in grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder. the ring hanging around his neck dangles with the sudden movement, and he clutches onto it.

”ah — right!” he squeaks, apologetic. ”sorry, it completely slipped my mind —”

before his mind can begin to overthink every action he’s taken these past few hours, a hand reaches out to pat his shoulder. pat, pat. reassuring and stabilizing.

inumaki smiles at him. yuuta can’t see his mouth, from behind the fabric of his hoodie, but his eyes crinkle softly; and it’s enough to put yuuta’s heart at ease.

”don’t apologize,” maki says. simple, straightforward. ”let’s just get going. i need to do better than naoya did last time.”

”you’re still mad about that, huh?”

”he only got a higher score because i wasn’t on top of my game,” she grumbles, digging her nails into the pockets of her baseball jacket. ”he doesn’t even like music. he’s just taking the course to piss me off. grown ass man.”

a chuckle slips from yuuta’s lips. the warm breeze ruffles his hair, and he holds onto the strap of his backpack, following closely behind as his friends begin to leave. sending one final glance at your figure, over by a table near the apricot trees.

and that’s when it happens.

— he looks over at you, and finds that your eyes are already on him. 

a moment passes.

while yuuta struggles to find his breathing, your lips curl up into a soft smile. then you raise your hand, waving to him cheerily, teeth peeking out from between your lips. he can see it clearly, even with the distance between you. 

a smile that glimmers like a jewel, in the light of the sun. 

yuuta feels his lips part, mouth falling open ever so slightly. but he waves back, afraid to take too long, unable to stop the pounding of his heartbeat — smiling giddily, like a schoolgirl tripping over her feet. 

his friends just watch, wholly unimpressed.

”do you think he’d notice if i threw a rock at him?”

”maki!”

”what do you like about them, anyway?”

the question is unexpected. yuuta has to do a double take, eyes straying from his excerpt of sappho 31 up to the person seated across from him. tapping her pencil on the edge of the table, resting her sharp jaw on the heel of her palm. 

”huh?”

”them. your crush,” maki reiterates. ”what caught your attention? there’s got to be something, yeah?”

”oh?” panda chirps, leaning back in his chair. a teasing grin playing at his lips. “i thought you didn’t care about his silly little crush.”

”i don’t.” a huff pushes past her lips, hands reaching to fix her lazy ponytail, hair tie dangling from between her teeth. ”i’m just bored. i already know all this, anyway.”

”tuna mayo.”

”oh, are you curious too, inumaki?”

”well, out with it. why them?”

yuuta blinks. once, then twice — mind spinning in circles, as his friends await his answer.

and, truthfully, yuuta can’t pinpoint the exact moment he felt it. that burst of joy, that tinge of excitement — the puppy love that rika always spoke of. she was always good at verbalizing her emotions, in a way yuuta never could.

(he always knew he loved her, but he could never put it into words.)

and he knows that he likes you. he knows because every word you speak has him stumbling over what to say, because even a single smile sent his way makes the world feel so gentle. he knows because he’d probably throw himself into incoming traffic, if you just asked him to.

but he can’t put it into words. not spoken ones, anyhow — putting them on paper is one thing, the one thing he can do. writing out his love for you in similes and metaphors, sonettes and alexandrines. it’s how he copes with everything; writing and writing, til his fingers start to hurt. he can compare you to a dandelion, to the way cicadas buzz in the light of the sun. the scent of childhood. but it’s harder to speak it out loud, to turn the feelings into sounds — that’s maki’s specialty, not his.

why does yuuta like you?

he remembers it clear as day, but still can’t pinpoint the exact second he fell headfirst into love. it was more of a creeping realization, something soft and sweet trickling through his veins. that sinking feeling, how helplessly he fell for you.

it all started with a pencil.

in hindsight, it’s a little silly. but yuuta can’t bring himself to think back to that moment with anything other than fondness.

(your smile was just so bright.)

that day had been a disaster. he was nervous, painfully so, afraid of every single new thing he came across during his first week of uni. scatterbrained, running on almost no sleep, unsure of where to put his feet as he walked.

honestly — what kind of trainwreck forgets their pen and notebook during their very first workshop?

all that anxiety, all those hours spent overthinking, and he still couldn’t manage something so small. in the moment, he almost panicked; sitting with you, a total stranger, wholly unprepared for such a simple assignment. read a couple excerpts, analyze them on paper. all yuuta could do was stare blankly at his lap, frozen, throat dry. hands cold with sweat.

but then you smiled.

”did you forget your notebook?” you had asked, voice set to a soothing tilt. calm, not angry or impatient.

”ah — yeah, i, um…” yuuta could only swallow thickly, fidgeting with the strings of his hoodie. ”i’m sorry. i haven't been sleeping well, so —”

”hey, hey, it’s fine!” you chuckled, teeth peeking out from between your lips. ”i totally get it. i almost forgot my laptop at yesterday’s lecture. we can just share!”

then you pushed your notebook closer to him, inviting him in. moving your chair a little, angling it towards him. but all yuuta could think of was how pretty your smile looked, how kind your presence felt.

”here you go,” you grinned, snapping him out of his trance. ”you can use this.”

a pencil. yuuta took it from your opened palm, gazing at it in wonder. an orange-coloured, halloween-themed pumpkin design. completely out of season. the tiny pumpkin was cute, though.

such a casual kindness. but maybe that's exactly why it made his heart flutter so deeply; as if you did it without even really thinking. as if kindness comes easy, to you.

that’s probably how it began. by the time the workshop ended, yuuta knew that he liked you, and he knew that he wanted nothing more than to be your friend.

(subconsciously, his fingers tap at the zipper of his backpack. the pumpkin pen is still with him, after you waved him off with a smooth you can keep it, if you want. yuuta has found that he always writes best when he uses it.)

”well?”

maki’s voice snaps him out of his trip down memory lane, and he stumbles for something to say. what does he like about you?

squirming, yuuta feels his face heat up, as he thinks of you. all he can see is your smile, the kindness in the tilt of your voice. the brightness of the grin you sent his way. warm and saccharine, like the sun peeking out after a downpour — when the streets smell like honeydew and rain.

”they’re just… so cool,” he finally sighs, a dreamy look smoothing over his face. ”they’re so nice. and their smile is so beautiful. they’re so smart, too — god, you should see the way they write — everything about them is just…”

yuuta blushes a deep red, smiling even still. lovesick. ”.. so, so wonderful.”

maki freezes in the midst of the tapping of her pencil. panda stops kicking at the foot of the table. and inumaki looks away from his phone, messing up his full combo.

a moment of silence passes. the study hall grows quiet, and yuuta looks down at his lap; suddenly embarrassed. sipping from his little carton of apple juice.

”hey…” panda starts, delicate. somehow, yuuta dreads the teasing edge to his voice. ”have you thought about confessing to them, yuuta?”

”what?” the boy in question squeaks, choking on his juice. ”no, of course not!”

”why?” maki deadpans. popping a chip into her mouth. ”you’re head over heels, right? might as well do something about it.”

inumaki hums. affirmative.

”i… don’t know,” yuuta sighs. a heavy breath, a little wobbly. meek. ”they’d just reject me, wouldn’t they? i mean…”

(you’re totally out of his league. right?)

maki scoffs, sitting up a little straighter. there’s an angered kind of affection in her eyes. ”you’re just deciding that all on your own. how would you know how they feel?”

the gaze she sends his way is intense. it always has been. there’s a kindness to it, though, something that makes yuuta want to look her in the eye — but he can’t, eyes still locked on his hands, resting in his lap. ”… still,” he manages a weak smile, somewhat sheepish. ”even if i wanted to, there’s no way i could. i’m too much of a coward.”

…

maki slams her textbook shut. the sound is sudden, loud. yuuta flinches, and a wince leaves inumaki’s lips. panda just watches her, snacking on some chips, a mild curiousity simmering in his eyes.

the girl in question gets up from her seat, grabbing her bass case and throwing it over her shoulder. then she looks at yuuta, eyes full of decision.

”— well, lucky for you, we’ve got some time to spare.”

a blink. yuuta gazes up at the girl in front of him, tilting his head in confusion.

maki sighs. exasperated. ”i’m saying we’ll help you. don’t look so resigned, dumbass.”

at that, panda gets up too — suddenly excited. ”are you thinking what i’m thinking?”

she just huffs, smiling even still. ”probably not. but let’s hear it.”

the grin on his face widens. he scribbles something down in his notebook, showing off the writing proudly. ”operation: get yuuta to confess is about to commence!”

inumaki turns off his phone. sitting up straight, arms decisively crossed, a strangely serious expression on his face. completely invested.

”wait — wait!” yuuta stutters, eyes wide with flustered shock. ”don’t i get a say in this?”

”of course not.”

”nope!”

”bonito flakes.”

”b… but —”

”alright, so here’s what i’m thinking,” panda begins, writing down unintelligible notes on the pages of his tattered notebook. ”we need to start small. we don’t want yuuta getting heart palpitations and fainting in the middle of campus, so —”

”tuna mayo?”

”yeah, that’s perfect! hang on, lemme just…”

”let me see. i don’t want you messing this up.”

yuuta’s voice comes out tiny, as it falls from his lips. more of a squeaky breath. ”guys, i really — you don’t need to —”

panda continues to scribble in the notebook, engrossed, arm hanging off maki’s shoulder as they go over the contents. inumaki nods along, walking over to them with lazy steps. yuuta’s protests go unnoticed, and all he can do is watch them mutter under their breaths.

”— okay. listen up, yuuta.”

he raises his head, and meets maki’s sharp eyes. she’s smiling, strolling over to place the notebook right in front of him. ”here’s how this is gonna go.”

yuuta looks down. 

everything is written out with a pink sharpie, glittery and pretty. there are little hearts doodled out across the pages, and he can tell exactly which ones were drawn by who. all of them look messy, with the exception of inumaki’s perfect little shapes. 

and there, right in the middle, lies a line of text.

panda reads it out, voice loud and cheery, while maki and inumaki stick close. all smiling, as a chill crawls down yuuta’s spine.

”step 1: ask for their number!”

plan a

”okay, so… what am i supposed to do, exactly?”

panda throws an arm over yuuta’s shoulder, and he’s enveloped by the scent of fresh sunlight. the weight is heavy, a comfort. ”we’re going with my plan first! it’s the best one, so don’t worry.”

”i don’t know about that,” maki scoffs. ”we can’t ask mai. best case scenario, she’ll laugh at us a little and say no.”

inumaki hums. he rips out a part of the notebook he’s been tasked with carrying, doodling a little face and showing it to the rest of his friends.

yuuta leans in close. it’s a cute doodle, charming. and he can tell who it’s supposed to depict. miwa kasumi.

”yeah, she’s our best bet,” maki sighs, brushing some specks of dust off her jeans. ”she seems like the nicest one in that group.”

yuuta tilts his head, brows furrowed in confusion. he plays with the ring hanging around his neck, a nervous tick he’s never managed to get rid of. ”wait, so…” he trails off, unsure. ”what are we doing, exactly?”

panda tugs him closer, a friendly smile on his face. ”we’re going to their friends for help!” he beams. ”that’ll be easier for you, right?”

a blink. yuuta gazes into the eyes of his friend, something soft blooming in his eyes.

they can be a chaotic bunch — but they’re still so considerate. considerate enough to know asking for your number straight out would be too much for him. considerate enough to think of his comfort, in a way no one else has bothered to before.

(faced with such immense understanding, such genuine friendship, how could he ever bear to let them down?)

”… alright,” yuuta gulps, clutching his ring as if to give him courage. managing a smile. ”let’s do this, then!”

with newfound determination, the four of them seek out miwa kasumi. it doesn’t take too long — she’s studying, going over legal codes in the library, eyes narrowed in concentration. and she isn’t alone.

”hey, miwa. muta.”

the pair look up from their respective textbooks and laptop, meeting the gaze of a certain maki zenin, waltzing over to their table. miwa smiles, but kokichi doesn’t say anything.

”hi, maki! how are you?”

”i’m good,” she answers, straight to the point; but her eyes soften a little. then she gestures towards yuuta with a tilt of her head. ”sorry, but this guy needs your help.” 

”hm?” miwa shifts in her seat, meeting yuuta’s nervous gaze, as he steps forward. ”ah, you’re… okkotsu, right?”

”ah, yeah! sorry for interrupting you two…”

”no, no! please, don’t worry about it,” she grins. sweet and soft, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers. ”we don't mind. right?”

kokichi still doesn’t say anything. but he nods, when miwa meets his eyes — and yuuta notices that they seem a lot softer when she does.

”so, here’s how it is…”

panda explains the situation to the pair. yuuta looks down at the floor, face flushed as he shifts from foot to foot. by the time he’s finished, miwa looks wholly invested, and kokichi looks a little less like all he wants is for them to leave him and miwa be.

”awww, that’s so sweet!!” she gushes, clasping her hands together. eyes glimmering with excitement.

”right,” maki hums. already a little impatient. ”so, basically — we need their number.”

”… ah. well, um —” miwa trails off, averting her gaze. she looks over at kokichi, but he only shrugs, going back to his coding. ”see, here’s the thing…”

with an apologetic look in her eyes, she turns to yuuta. ”i support you 100% — but i dunno if it’d feel right to just… give away their number like that, you know?” she mumbles, sheepishly. ”i think you should ask them, yourself. that’d be way more romantic!”

”yeah, but that’s a tall hurdle for a socially anxious guy…” panda mutters, patting yuuta’s back.

”still! i’m sure they’d appreciate you being direct.” miwa closes her eyes, a dreamy expression painted on her face. ”i’d be elated if someone asked for my number like that!! all stuttering and shy… it’d be so cute!”

(if anyone notices kokichi stiffening beside her, they don’t mention it.)

maki sighs, resigned. ”well, i don’t think we’re getting any numbers here. good. what kind of creep just texts someone out of nowhere, anyway?”

”i thought it was a good plan!” panda protests, pouting a little. maki shoots him a look.

”it was an awful plan. what were you planning to say? hey, i forced your friend to give me your number, but would you want to hang out sometime?” she crosses her arms with a sharp scoff. ”i’d beat your ass!”

panda grumbles a little under his breath, but doesn’t say anything. 

”sorry i couldn’t be of more help,” miwa mumbles, sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. ”good luck, though! i hope they say yes!”

”thanks, miwa,” yuuta smiles, already in the process of being tugged away by his friends. ”i really appreciate it!”

plan a

plan b

”alright, inumaki’s turn. what’s your take on the situation, mister?”

the boy in question sits up straight, back resting against a tree trunk. he writes something down, and yuuta waits, patiently — absentmindedly staring at the white petals of the apricot trees on campus. pure, fleeting, sweet blossoms unfurling before him.

when he’s finished, inumaki presents the page to yuuta, and everyone gathers round. reading the writing, eyes trailing over his little doodles. panda grins, and maki strokes her chin in contemplation.

”you’re a genius, inu!”

”well, it’s probably the easiest way to go about it…”

yuuta purses his lips. it’s a good plan, he thinks; writing out a note, and passing it to you in the middle of class. that way, he won’t have to turn his feelings into sounds, won’t have to speak them out loud. there’s a safety to it, the trickling of ink across blank papers. one that’s never failed him.

”… that should work,” he mumbles, and inumaki visibly brightens. ”what am i supposed to write, though?”

”just be straightforward.”

”not seconded!” panda huffs, crossing his legs. ”you need to be dramatic. heartfelt. that’ll catch their attention!” he stops to think for a moment, a hum buzzing loudly in his throat. ”hey — why not write them a love poem? put those skills to good use!”

”a love poem?” yuuta squeaks, a slight heat rising to the tips of his ears. ”there’s no way i could do that! and i’m not skilled, i —”

a pause. yuuta bites his lip.

”… it’d just be embarrassing,” he finally mutters, playing with his ring.

(he wonders what rika would think, if she were here. what she’d advise him to do — would she like the love poem idea? probably.)

”well, you could at least try. who knows, maybe they’ll like it,” maki attempts to reassure him, chewing at a piece of gum. ”if they’re anything like miwa, it’ll be easy.”

gnawing at his bottom lip, yuuta emits an anxious hum. deep in thought. maybe you would like it, but… what if you just think it’s cheesy?

maki observes him, intently. listening to the emotions behind his silence. tapping the pads of her fingers on her knee, in a rhythmic motion. ”… at least try writing something out,” she says. ”if you can’t think of anything, then just copy some random old guy. what was his name, uh — catallas? or something?”

yuuta’s gaze snaps up, eyes gone wide. ”catullus?” he gapes, in disbelief. ”are you insane? do you even know what kind of poems he wrote?”

maki shoots him a confused look, and a tilt of her head. ”isn’t he the ’give me a thousand kisses’ guy?”

”he is, but that’s —” a sigh, exasperated. flustered, as it flows from his parted lips. then he shakes his head. ”nevermind. it doesn’t matter.”

”tuna…” inumaki mumbles, nudging yuuta’s shoulder with his head. a silent encouragement. and even with no words, yuuta knows what he’s trying to say.

just be yourself. this is your specialty, right? 

write from your heart.

”inumaki…” yuuta meets his gaze, and is met with a pair of warm eyes. a friendly punch meets his shoulder, soft and delicate. kind.

”… alright. i’ll write it!”

”that’s the spirit!” panda grins. ”just give it to them during tomorrow’s lecture.”

”yeah,” yuuta nods, mustering the courage to smile. ”i will!”

when yuuta gets home that night, he makes himself a cup of coffee with too much sugar, and gets ready to write.

he listens to maki’s acoustic guitar covers through his headphones, curled up with the fluffy blanket panda gave him, and munches on a hastily made onigiri to give himself much-needed energy.

(writing with a certain pumpkin-themed pencil, basking in the scratching of lead against blank pages.)

his hands are shaking.

it’s barely noticeable, but it’s there. that nervous shiver of his bones, the rattling of his skeleton. you’re sitting right next to him, so close he can smell the shampoo you use, the mint off your breath —

and yuuta can’t seem to hand you the note.

he spent all last night writing it. putting every single little drop of his love into every single little word. but that fear of rejection still remains, rendering him useless, unable to act.

you’re listening to the lecture, but only halfheartedly, absentmindedly doodling in your notebook. out of boredom, he assumes.

it’s the perfect moment to strike.

yuuta’s hands are shaking, and his heartbeat is stuttering, crawling up his throat. he takes a sip of water, hoping it’ll make the dry sensation go away, but it doesn’t work.

(just be yourself.)

with a deep intake of breath, he pushes the note over to you — not daring to look your way.

his eyes remain glued on the laptop screen in front of him, but he hears you pick it up, hears the rustling of paper as you unfold it. his heart echoes with a similar rhythm, unstable, borderline erratic. the rest of the lecture passes by slowly, minute by minute, at an agonizing pace.

when it finally ends, yuuta has to restrain the urge to run away — turning towards you slowly, hesitantly, as if just the sight of you could blind him if he isn’t careful. but you’re already looking at him. and you’re smiling.

”that was so good, yuuta!”

….

huh?

”sorry, but i honestly don’t have any feedback,” you mumble, eyes trailing over the note again. ”i like it a lot. i didn’t know you wrote poetry!”

”… ah.”  yuuta stumbles for something to say. staring into your eyes, blankly. dumbly. ”t.. thank you! i’m glad you liked it.”

with a brief shake of your head, you smile, and something sickly sweet unfurls in his chest. ”not at all. thanks for letting me read it! i’m sorry i can’t really help you improve…”

mentally, yuuta falls to his knees. places his palms on the floor and dry heaves, clutching his heart. did you not get it? was he not clear enough? he wrote it with you in mind, so —

”maybe you could show it to professor nanami?” you suggest, unaware of the turmoil within the boy to your right. ”i'm sure he’ll be a great help! he can seem a bit intimidating, but he’s nice.”

”.. yeah,” yuuta smiles, weakly. ”i’ll do that. thanks again.”

for a moment, he isn’t even upset. because you flash him another bright smile, and suddenly, even the frustration of yet another setback doesn’t feel so awful.

(maybe it’s fine, he thinks. maybe this is enough; speaking to you, getting to see your smile up close. maybe he doesn’t need anything else, after all.)

”so?” maki questions, waiting for him outside of class with his other two friends. ”how’d it go?”

shoulders slumped, but still wearing a smile on his face, yuuta chuckles. it comes out sounding a little strangled. ”they… thought i wanted their feedback on my poetry.”

….

”what.”

panda attempt to stifle his laughter, but it doesn’t really work. inumaki elbows him gently, but yuuta sees his eyes crinkle, too. he breathes out a low chuckle. ”they liked the poem, at least. so i’m happy.”

a sigh falls from maki’s lips, and she waltzes over to him, a hand on her hip. the other reaches out for the note in his palm. ”let me see.”

quickly unfolding it, her eyes trail across the words on the pages, the flowery lines of writing —

and then she shoots him an unimpressed look.

”.. yuuta,” she pinches the bridge of her nose. ”what the hell is this? you didn’t even mention their number.”

panda leans over her shoulder, peeking at the text. eyes glancing over a couple lines, riddled with sugarsweet metaphors. ”uh, wow. you… really got into it, huh?”

a groan leaves yuuta’s lips, the sound muffled as he cradles his head in his hands. ”please don’t say anything else. i just wanna crawl into a hole and die…”

inumaki shakes his head, erratic, pointing at the poem with shining eyes. ”mentaiko!”

”ah, you liked it? thanks, inumaki…”

the boy in question smiles, shooting yuuta a thumbs up. he returns it with a small smile of his own.

surrounded by his friends, all he can do is bask in their warmth — and the memory of the smile you gave him.

plan a plan b

plan c

a groan fills the air, as yuuta slumps over the table. cheek pressed against the cold wood, absently kicking his legs, voice meek and defeated.

”this is never gonna work,” he mutters under his breath. eyes devoid of hope. ” i’m just not cut out for this, guys…”

”aw, c’mon….” panda reaches over to ruffle his hair, palm big and warm. ”don’t give up hope! you want to grow closer to them, don’t you?”

”i do, but…” he sighs. ”this isn’t going very well, is it…?”

inumaki frowns, sending yuuta a sympathetic glance.

”oh, quit moping already!” maki grumbles. ”we just need to keep brainstorming. isn’t it time for my plan, yet?”

”should we really even keep going…?” another sigh, heavy with fatigue. yuuta’s mind spins in circles, tiring him out. rendering him a bit cynical. ”i mean… maybe it’s fine if things stay this way.”

a moment passes. maki looks at him, emitting a soft scoff. ”what, so you’re just gonna keep pining for the rest of the term?”

”that’s the plan.”

”yuuta…” panda pouts, shoes bumping against his beneath the table. ”be more positive! just think about it; with every step you take, you get closer to confessing!”

yet another groan. this one is deep, riddled with exhaustion. muffled into the table. ”that’s the scariest part…”

before either of his friends can begin to persuade him otherwise, encourage him further, a sing-songy voice echoes throughout the air. loud, cheery — a little bit obnoxious.

”oh? did someone just say confess?”

at the same instant the sound reaches their ears, a chill runs down the youths’ spines. in tandem with each other, they raise their heads; gazes falling on a certain satoru gojo.

panda and maki are the first to act, speaking simultaneously as the white haired man inches closer. 

”— no.”

maki closes the notebook containing operation: get yuuta to confess, right before their professor can get close enough to see it. then she turns towards him, shooting him a cold look.

”your hearing’s getting bad,” she hums. ”maybe you should book a doctor’s appointment.”

a pout. gojo takes a seat right beside her, uncomfortably long legs bumping against every single other pair of shoes beneath the table.

”oh, c’mon. you know i heard you.” his hand reaches out to ruffle her hair, but she smacks it away. ”you’re starting to sound just like megumi, y’know that?”

maki grits her teeth. ”guess it’s a genetic thing,” she huffs. ”now can you leave? don’t you have papers to grade?”

”don’t you have papers to write?” gojo smirks, a teasing mirth in his eyes. hidden behind his sunglasses. maki ignores him. 

placing his palms on the table, he leans a little closer, lips curled up into a cheshire grin. foreboding. ”sooo… yuuta’s got himself a little crush, huh?” he teases. ”tell your favorite professor allll about it. maybe i can help!”

”professor geto is our favorite,” maki shoots back, instantaneous.

a soft huff. there’s something sour in gojo’s expression, now. ”that guy? really?”

before the two can argue further, yuuta takes the opportunity to to speak. smiling apologetically, polite and sweet. ”thanks, mr. gojo, but…”

”he doesn't need your help,” maki cuts in. so much for diffusing the tension. ”and do you really expect us to believe you get girls?”

”wha — rude!” gojo scoffs. ”for your information, i’m a natural charmer!”

… 

a moment passes. then another.

”… tough crowd,” he clicks his tongue, met only with four blank stares. ”but, really — let me help! i'm your professor, you know?”

and this time, yuuta thinks that gojo’s smile looks just a little more sincere. something kind and gentle in the way his lips curl up, like a father’s affection for their children. something that makes yuuta falter.

(maki might like mr. geto more — but when it comes to yuuta, his favorite professor is a no-brainer.)

so he speaks up, again. ”we can at least hear him out, right…?” maki shoots him an unimpressed look, but he doesn’t back down. ”we’re stuck, anyway…”

and just like that, gojo brightens. it’s obvious, in the way he sits up, more alert. in the way his grin grows wider. ”right? what you need is the perspective of someone more experienced.”

”have you even talked to a girl before?”

”i see him at ieiri’s office, sometimes.”

”salmon.”

”isn’t she a lesbian? that doesn’t count. i mean, like, in a romantic context.”

”i thought mr. gojo was gay, too?”

”what? no way. have you seen the way he’s dressed —?”

gojo clears his throat, voice loud and grating. demanding attention, cutting his eager students off. ”anyway,” he chirps. ”gather round, children! i’ll tell you exactly how to ask the person you like for their number.”

”wh —” yuuta blinks. ”how’d you…?”

”operation ’get yuuta to confess!’, step 1: ask for their number!” gojo repeats, grinning ear to ear. voice rich with amusement. ”i like the glitter. it’s a nice touch.”

maki huffs. looks like she didn’t close it fast enough.

begrudgingly, the youths quiet down, finally willing to hear their professor out. and gojo seems satisfied, at last, speaking in a hushed whisper; eerily serious all of a sudden. ”ok, so here’s what you do…”

everything goes silent. yuuta strains his ears, and gojo parts his lips. 

”— just ask them! easy, right?

….

”let’s go, yuuta.”

”mentaiko.”

”i heard they're serving those sandwiches you like at the cafeteria today! let's hurry before they run out.”

”ah — i was just kidding!” gojo laughs, as his students get up from their seats. ”i have an actual answer!”

maki grabs her bass, inumaki takes the notebook, and panda ushers yuuta away. they begin to walk down the hall, ignoring the pleas of the man behind them. pouting, as his shout echoes throughout the hallway. 

”kids! come back!”

plan a plan b plan c

plan d

”okay, so this is going absolutely nowhere.”

relishing in the shadow cast by the giant campus tree, the four friends sit on their usual table, sandwiches in hand. yuuta takes a bite of his, tentative. a little disheartened.

”really, guys… i appreciate it a lot, but maybe we should stop here.”

maki huffs. reaching across the table, she gently smacks him over the head with her can of sprite. ”no way. we still haven’t tried my plan.”

he leans back, a little further, a hesitant look in his eyes. the sun shines down, relentless, but the air smells like rain. in the distance he sees clouds, dark, approaching at a slow pace.

an omen, he thinks. a reason not to speak out.

rika always liked the rain. she liked the scent that came with it, the puddles she could jump in. she liked shaking the branches of tiny trees, just to see him jolt and squeak as the raindrops hit him.

the ring around his neck weighs heavy on his heart. the promise of it, the oath within the silver.

(when we grow up, let’s get married!)

”earth to yuuta!”

his eyes flutter open.

the sun shines down, embracing the contours of his face. painting his world yellow. from this angle, staring up at the tree, he can see it breaking through; between the gaps of the green leaves, the white blossoms. forcing its way into his line of vision.

a flicker of hope.

”do you want to hear the plan or not?” maki scoffs, crossing her arms and tapping at her elbow. impatient.

yuuta meets her gaze, finding it in him to muster up just a little more determination. ”yeah,” he breathes. ”i do.”

a smile blooms on her face. ”good. alright.”

panda and inumaki inch closer to the pair, careful not to knock over the cans of soda resting on the table. in a mess of limbs and tousled hair, they gather round.

this is it, yuuta thinks — the final plan. if it fails, he’ll just have to keep pining from afar. memorizing your smile, over and over, until you graduate and part ways. 

this is it.

maki parts her lips.

”— just ask them,” she says. ”straight out.”

silence. 

a moment passes. a soft, pleasant breeze flits by, caressing yuuta’s skin. his ring sways with the wind, gently. 

”… huh?!”

panda furrow his brows, leaning closer with his palms on his knees. ”i thought we agreed that was stupid!” inumaki huffs out a low affirmative noise, holding his sketchbook tightly to his chest. but maki only puffs out her chest.

yuuta tilts his head, with a soft furrow of his brows. ”didn’t you just cuss out mr. gojo for suggesting that…?”

”well, it’s dumb when he says it…” she mutters, under her breath. then her gaze turns firm. ”look — yuuta.”

when the two lock eyes, he notices a steadfast determination, glimmering in her irises. something almost burning.

”you aren’t going to get anywhere if you’re too cowardly to even look them in the eye,” she tells him, not allowing him to squirm away from the eye contact. ”you guys can come up with those convoluted plans all you want, but there’s no way you’ll grow closer if you can’t face them.”

tousling her hair, softly, maki lets out a sigh. there’s a kindness to it, distinct. he can tell she’s trying to be tactful. 

”if you really want to get to know them, then you have to be direct. and you have to believe in yourself. you’ve already resigned yourself to the fact that they’ll say no — but that’s just dumb.”

panda winces, under his breath, but doesn’t say anything. maybe this is exactly what yuuta needs to hear.

the boy in question listens, the eyes of his friend boring into his own. determined, confident, sincere — everything he isn’t. everything he wants to be.

”even if you don’t believe it, you’re a charming guy. we all think so,” she continues, matter-of-factly. angered affection overflowing in her voice.

”have some confidence, dammit!”

a moment passes. yuuta feels his lips part, ever so slightly. a little speechless.

panda and inumaki sit shoulder to shoulder, hands over their eyes, shielding themselves from the sight in front of them. comically, as if it’s too bright to look at directly. 

”this… overflowing tough love…!”

”salmon roe…!”

maki grins, all teeth, a little wolfish. but kind. ”the worst thing they can say is no, right? 

yuuta blinks. ”maki…” he mumbles, looking into her eyes, a certain sensation running through his chest. a kind of confidence. passed on from her to him — one friend to another. the most natural exchange in the world.

then he smiles. a little meek, somewhat awkward — but bright. ”yeah. yeah, you’re right!”

the lazy grin on her lips only deepens, as she gets up to her feet, dusting non-existent dirt off her jeans. reaching a hand out for yuuta to take. ”c’mon, loser. shape up. you’re gonna steal their heart, aren’t you?”

a moment passes.

yuuta takes her hand in his. ”i am,” he swallows down a gulp. willing his voice to sound even a little bit self-assured.

and she pulls him up, effortlessly, overflowing with a natural resilience. still grinning cheekily. encouraging him. ”you’re gonna go out there and do your best, right?”

”i — i am!”

another voice chimes in. ”you’re gonna finish my essay for me this week, right?”

”i am!”

…

”wait —”

maki hits panda over the head with a soft thwack. a wince leaves his lips, and inumaki giggles, quieting down when maki sends him a warning glance.

”don’t throw him off his game,” she huffs. then she turns to yuuta once more. ”let’s go find them. alright, loverboy?”

a smile blooms on his lips. grateful, to be surrounded by such sunny people. ones that make it a little easier to smile each day. ”right.”

— but before either of them can take a step forward, a warm voice spills into the open air.

”um, yuuta?”

the boy in question stops in his tracks. he feels his eyes widen, spinning on his heels, hair ruffled by the breeze — turning to look at the source of the sound. 

it’s you.

you, with your sunkissed smile, that inviting voice. that soothing, soothing presence. one that has his heartbeat picking up in speed, hands growing sweaty, throat running dry. one that makes him feel a little bit feverish. and you’re looking right at him, into his eyes.

”hey!” he sputters, blinking rapidly to convince himself that he isn’t hallucinating. but you just keep smiling, answering his awkward greeting without skipping a beat.

”hi! sorry, could i just… talk to you, for a second?” 

he blinks. the world stops spinning.

(you… want to talk….

to him?)

attempting to find the words, any words, he opens his mouth — but nothing comes out. not a single syllable, no vowels, not even a sound. nothing at all.

he can only stare, star-struck.

it’s not until his friends push him forward that he’s snapped out of it; they surround him, on all sides, wearing matching grins. teasing and excited.

”don’t worry, he’s all yours!”

”have fun, you two!”

”salmon!”

— then they’re off. 

yuuta tries to reach for their sleeves, in a weak attempt to keep them from leaving, but they’re gone before he can even blink. leaving him all alone, with someone he can’t talk to without experiencing intense symptoms of heart failure. 

he stumbles for something to say, again, but thankfully you beat him to it.

”sorry for interrupting you guys,” you say, voice set to a low tilt. apologetic. and his throat unclogs, a little.

”ah, no, it’s fine!” he smiles, maybe a little too giddy. wanting so badly to reassure you, to put you at ease. ”i’m happy to speak to you!”

…

(oh god oh no why did i say that —)

your smile widens, blooming like a flower in the sunlight. unfurling in front of his very eyes. ”me too!” you say, excitedly. ”i feel like you and i have been talking more, recently… it’s nice.”

eyes crinkling, you wringle your hands together, and look at him fondly. yuuta’s surprised he manages to keep his knees from buckling.

”i think so too!” he grins, ears pink and dimples showing. 

both of you smile. the breeze curls around your hair, illuminating the colour of your eyes. yuuta stops breathing, for a moment — just taking it all in.

”so — anyway…” you murmur, fiddling with the fabric of your pants. ”um… haha. sorry, i’m — a little nervous…”

yuuta blinks.

(he knows where this is going. all the signs are there, right in front of him; the flush of your cheeks, the nervous tapping of your fingers, the hesitance in your eyes. he’s read enough shoujo manga — he knows what this means.)

and he almost can’t believe it.

all he can do is keep smiling, hoping it’ll give you even a fraction of the peace that your smile brings him. ”don’t be,” he says, voice soothing. scratching the back of his head. ”whatever it is, i’ll — um. i’ll listen, so…”

he clears his throat. swallowing thickly.

”just — whenever you're ready.”

there’s no mistaking it. your ears are painted pink, and you’re gnawing at your bottom lip. fiddling with your fingers and avoiding his gaze, with a soft inhale, clear air filling your lungs. he wonders if your throat feels as dry as his, if your heart is beating even half as fast.

”um… okay, so…” you mumble, eyes unable to stay in one place for too long. a soft bout of laughter escapes you, and he can tell you’re trying to stave off your own nervosity; it sends a pang of ache running through his chest.

he wants to tell you that there’s no need to be nervous. that he’d listen to anything you have say, absolutely anything, no matter what it is.

he wants to tell you that he’d never let you down, that he’d have to be foolish to even think the thought.

he wants to tell you that he’ll hear you out. whenever, wherever. for as long as you need.

”do you, um…”

a gulp. your eyes find his, and there’s a soft kind of decisiveness in them. 

here it comes, he thinks. here it comes.

yuuta feels the heat on his cheeks, ears burning. and he hears the patter of his heartbeat, loud and heavy, echoing in his muddled mind like a mantra. but his chest feels light; fluttery, butterflies dancing around uncontrollably. 

clutching the ring around his neck, subconsciously, he looks you in the eye.

they’re bright, glimmering like little galaxies — or maybe more like summer skies. painted over with a warm hue, something nostalgic and sweet, so pretty it hurts. if he strains his eyes enough, he’s almost sure he can see the swirling of fluffy clouds in the depths of your irises.

a smile rests on your lips. it's almost overwhelmingly sweet, albeit a little shy, as you part your pretty lips. voice soaked in nervosity, tingly and shaky, and something he knows to be puppy love.

a shallow, dry intake of breath. yuuta braces himself.

here it comes. 

your voice spills out into the air, dripping with honey and magnolias. he thinks to himself that he’d like to hear the melodic lilt of it every single day; before going to bed, right after waking up. walking to campus together, heading back to the dorms when the sky gets dark.

just the sound alone would be enough.

subconsciously, he tugs on the strap of his backpack. thinking of the pencil inside it. his lucky charm, along with the ring around his neck — ordinary objects, both too precious for words.

(when we grow up, let’s get married!

you can keep it, if you want.)

here it comes, yuuta thinks.

a new beginning.

he strains his ears, and purses his lips, and watches your lips move as you finally ask —

”do you have maki’s number?”

(somewhere in the distance, from an inconspicuous bush, the muffled screams of three students and one professor resounds.)

[oo-delallymrcrow]

Cuddle

Summary: you and the tabaxi have a nice talk and then cuddle

A/N: aw guys!! ☺️ I'm so happy that you liked Meeting Carnivàl Lecroux and wanted more! I already have a few things in the works but I got the request for one with Morning Frost and I was half way done so here it is!! I hope you like it and if anyone has any other requests please feel free to ask!

"Ah, hello, (Y/N).”

You open your eyes and see an upside down Frost as he looms over you. It was the evening and everyone was just relaxing and staying in. Kremy and Gideon in their room together. Gricko, Torbek, and Twig were playing children's games and drinking hot coco together. Hootsie was cuddle up on the couch with you when Frost entered the common room.

You stretch and yawn as Hootsie lets out a quiet hoot before jumping off the couch and heading toward her dad, stoping to rub against Frost and walking away.

Frost let put a chuckle as Hootsie rubbed against him before moving to where Hootsie was taking up the couch. He sat in the vacant spot, crossing his long legs as he does, adjusting his cloak and robe over his frame. He speaks in a monotone manner and a dry, sarcastic tone that may come off as uncaring to those who do not know his personality. Luckily, you have been getting to know Frost lately over your shared passion for knowledge and books. His yellow eyes land on you as he sits down, a neutral expression on his furry face.

"So, how are you faring, my dear? Enjoying yourself?”

You hum with a small smile on your face as you sit up, "I am. It's been nice getting to relax and just take some time for ourselves. How are you Frost? Enjoying any new books?"

Frost tilted his head back against the couch and shrugged. He crossed his arms and tapped his clawed fingers against his bicep. He seems to think for a moment before looking back at you, his ears twitch as he thinks of an answer.

"I've been working through a book of poetry, actually. Not exactly my style, but I find it quite relaxing to read to myself."

His neutral, aloof expression softens a bit more as he speaks. He is, as usual, calm and collected, but you can see small hints of emotion in his eyes and mannerisms.

You sit up a little as he mentions reading poetry and nod your head.

"I do love a bit of poetry myself. But I get how it's not everyone's style. I think you have to find the right words to really give the reader the right emotions and once it does." You put your hands up and make a little explosion noise. "Magic happens.”

Frost's eyebrows rise slightly, probably surprised by the unexpected enthusiasm in your voice. He hums and nods in agreement, his long, pointed ears twitching once again.

"Hm, perhaps that is the problem. The poetry I'm reading is rather bland and lacks that... 'oomph' you speak of."

Hiis expression became a little more amused, a slight smirk crossing his face. He crosses one leg over the other and looks at you properly.

"Maybe you have some suggestions.”

You blink in surprise but nod your head as you lean a little closer.

"Oh I think I could help. What are you wanting exactly? What are you trying to give the reader in your poetry? Happiness, sadness, maybe a little romance?”

As you lean in towards him, a smile appears on Frost's face. He leans forward a bit as well, his eyes locked on yours intently. He lets out a thoughtful sigh and hums for a moment, contemplating the question.

"I suppose I'm looking for those... feelings which are difficult to put into words. Feelings of melancholy, perhaps, but not quite. Almost as if you are missing something in your life, but can't remember what."

He pauses for a moment and lets out a quiet chuckle.

"Or maybe I'm looking too hard.”

"Naw you're just thinking too hard. Just got to say what comes to mind."

You pause and look away for a second before turning back to him and clear your throat; "here let me try a little something. Don't laugh if it doesn't sound good, alright?”

Frost tilted his head to the side, his yellow eyes studying you intently. He nods and clasps his hands together in his lap, giving you his full attention.

"Alright, I will do my best to refrain from laughing... No promises there."

His smile becomes a little more bemused, as he leans back against the couch and waits for you to begin.

"Ok maybe something like,

‘There’s a whisper in the wind tonight,

A gentle sigh I can’t quite hear,

A yearning wrapped in twilight’s light,

For something lost, yet ever near.’"

As you mutter the last words you blush and look away from Frost. You twist your hands in your lap and awkwardly chuckle as you shake my head.

"It's probably not very good but maybe something a little like that could work?”

Frost looks almost taken aback for a moment by the words you spoke. He looks at you as you look away, but notice his eyes lock on your hands as you twist and rub them together. He could tell you are nervous by the gesture and the blush on your cheek. However, he is more preoccupied on the words themselves.

You sit in silence as Frost stares intently at your hands before you laugh and hide your face in your hands.

"Oh that was bad wasn't it? Sorry I've never really written or spoke poetry before.”

Frost shakes his head and lets out a little sigh, smiling fondly.

"Nonsense, that was beautiful. You painted such a clear picture with your words, even a 'non-poetry enjoyer' such as myself could see it."

*He chuckles a litte, "I was more surprised that you spoke the words in such a... captivating manner. You really seemed to be able to convey the emotion of the words. Where did you learn to do that?”

You peek out from under your hands and shrug as you place them in your lap again. You lean back into the couch as you stare up at the ceiling.

"I don't know. I've always liked lovely words and listening to people speak or sing. I actually listen to a lot of music and just hearing the way people put there emotions in songs, is just like poetry in a way.”

Frost nods and hums as he listens to your explanation, watching you intently as you speak and stare up at the ceiling. He can most likely sense the underlying anxiety in your voice as you speak and the way your hands twitch together and occasionally rub your comfy pants.

"I see. Well, it certainly shows. Even if you have not written or spoken much poetry in the past, what little I heard makes me believe you have a very good grasp on what good poetry sounds like.”

You smile and turn your head to Frost, "thanks Frost. Maybe I'll try and take up poetry whenever we have time."

You hear loud footsteps as Gideon walks through the room, heading toward the kitchen with a yawn. He looks like he just woke up from a nap as he glances over and waves, "sup lovebirds. What are you two talking about?”

You and Frost turn heads as Gideon walks into the room. Frost glances at the back of Gideon's head as he walks towards the kitchen. He shakes his head with a sigh and refocuses on you.

"We're simply discussing poetry, Gideon. Apparently our little friend is a bit of a poet herself, as it turns out.”

"Oh," you blush and shoot a hand out to lightly tap Frosty's arm as it sounds like he's teasing. "I'm not that good. Apparently I need the right inspiration to be able to do it."

At that comment you wink at Frosty in a teasing manner, the gesture causing Frosty to break out into a bemused grin as Gideon lumbers back out with a glass of water. You chuckle as he stumbles a bit as he slumbers back to his room.

"Heading back to bed?"

"Yeah," he mumbles and waves a hand again, "no loud noises you two."

You blush at his comment and throw a pillow at his back as he laughs. Frost shifts in his seat but yells at Gideon.

"You know, you shouldn't say those things. It gives us ideas!”

You bust out laughing as you get up to grab the pillow you just threw before sitting back on the couch, a little closer to Frosty.

"What ideas does that give you?”

Frost shrugs and feigns innocence as a sly smile forms on his face. He looks over you, and places an arm behind you on the couch.

"Oh, you know. A good idea leads to another idea, which could lead to more bad ideas. Which then leads to even... more ideas. It can become a bit of a chain reaction, hm?"

He chuckles and gives you a wink, his ears flicking once again, almost teasingly this time. You giggle at his ears, flicking and nod as you try to think of what he's saying.

"So what's a good idea that leads to a bad idea? An example is what I need."

You sit up, criss-cross on the couch facing Frosty as he chuckles at your question and sits up straighter, shifting to face you. His ears remained perked and upright, listening to your words intently. He hums as he lifts his hand to his chin, tapping against it as he seems to contemplate on an answer. He smirks as he speaks, and winks at you again.

"Hmmm... How about I show you?”

Your eyes widen as your breath catches for a moment at how he speaks.

"Show me? I guess you can show me.”

Frost continues to smirk but moves forward with whatever he has planned. His eyes remain fixed on your face, watching your reactions carefully as he uncrosses his legs.

“Hmm, perfect.”

He lifts his hand and places it on the side of your face as he leans in a little as his ears twitch and his tail flicks out as he brushes his lips against yours. You shudder but lean in closer as you place a hand on his knees to stabilize yourself as Frost fully pulls you into a kiss.

It is different but feels like a beard tickling your nose with his whiskers and you giggle a little as you pull back as you scratch your nose.

“Sorry, it was tickling me.”

Frost nods as he brushes a strand of hair that fell against your cheek.

“That's alright. I know this must be different for you.”

“Oh yes,” you nod but sit up onto your knees to sit a little taller than Frost on the couch. “But it's not unpleasant.”

You lean in as one hand grips the couch next to you and strokes down his fur on his cheek, scratching his chin as Frost goes ridged at first but then melts with a sudden and loud purr erupting from his chest as he melts. As you process what you were hearing, Frost leans against you to the point of pushing you back on the couch as you continue to scratch his chin.

You huff as the tabaxi flops his weight on you but smile as First cuddles into you. You move your hand to the tip of his head and give him a little scratch which makes his ears twitch even more.

You both lay there completely relaxed and honestly at the mercy of Frost. You smile as you close your eyes and continue to pet Frost as he purrs against you.

“Are you lovebirds alright?”

You peek an eye open to see Kremy now standing in the doorway. Looking at the two of you with a raised brow but a smile on his face. Frost slightly moves but only to make himself more comfortable and wrap you up in his arms as you close your eyes with a smile and do the same to Frost. Being intertwined together makes you feel warm and cozy, ready to fall asleep again.

“Hmm, we're fine Kremy,” Frost says as he starts to purr again.

You just hear a little sigh and a snap as a blanket covers the two of you and the lights dim. You and Frost cuddled together and slipping into a cozy dream.

[whiteskullofroses]

Hi! I saw that you accept request for Baldwin IV. If you do still accept, could you pls write one where y/n and Baldwin would stay up too late talking to each other until one falls asleeps? Thanks 💕

Hi there thank you for the request! And to clarify, you can always request any characters you want❤️ Enjoy!

LATE NIGHT TALK

Baldwin Iv x reader

It was a cold night in Jerusalem. You were walking around the palace gazing up at the stars and thinking about life when all of a sudden, a familiar voice grabbed your attention: "Y/N!" He called out to you from his room. It was all lit up with candles so you could see his shape clearly: "Care to join me?" The young king's voice sounded so energetic, even though it was already midnight. You answered: "With pleasure!" And happily headed out to his quarters.

Once you reached the hallway that led to his room, you noticed that the door was already opened for you but still, you knocked on the wood to make your presence known.

He turned from his desk to look at you. His mask shone from the candles around him and made his blue eyes sparkle.

"Care for a round?" Baldwin gestured towards the chess set and sat down at the table. "Y/n" Sitting down and listening to his words "I've missed you tonight. I rarely see you these days."

You smiled and replied: "Work has been incredibly tiring," taking a sip of some wine a servant poured: "I've hardly found any time for friends."

Baldwin leaned closer to you: "Well now it's the time. Relax."

You started the chess game and asked: "How come weren't you at the banquet last Monday?"

The King moved a pawn and sighed: "I had an unexpected meeting which I couldn't miss."

Nodding, you moved on since you didn't want to trouble him with hard topics so late in the night.

"Have you read any new poetry lately?" Asking him like you always do, you always loved to listen to him talk about the things he was passionate about, one of them being literature.

Whether it be myths from across Europe containing dragons and other mystical beings or poetry that many saw as simple, however from a trained eye's perspective it was true art projected onto paper.

"Yes, I've read this wonder piece from a book from France Preseren called 'Poezije'" Grabbing the book from a nearby chair and flipping through it, Baldwin proclaimed: "Would you like to hear it?"

"I'd love to, Baldwin." You supported your head with your elbow on the table, as the late hours of the night cut into your brains. "Where did you get it from?"

"I believe I got this book as a gift from my sister when she visited Carniola."

Finally, he started reading, his voice soft as ever:

Fresh flowers will spread fragrance far and near,

Like roses when the winter's passed away.

Your eyelids became heavier and heavier with every word he spoke:

And spring displays its marvelous array,

While through the trees white scattered blossoms peer

Your breathing became deeper, with waves of relaxation washing through your body. All of a sudden you felt like you were 10 years old again, when your mother used to read you books to help you fall asleep.

All this time away from your parents and away from your childhood made you forget how soothing it was and how much you enjoyed it.

Baldwin continued reading the poem whilst you were drifting off into peaceful sleep, right there on his 'chess table'.

He hardly noticed you falling asleep right opposite to him as he was focusing on the text he was reading. But when he finished reading the poem and looked up from the book, he realized you slept through half of it.

He chuckled to himself. Baldwin wasn't mad or annoyed with you, rather he felt a sort of fulfillment that he managed to get you to fall asleep.

For a moment he just sat there, staring at you. You didn't know it at the time but he admired you deeply. For your intelligence and your beauty. He found that this was one of the times he could truly silently look at you and not feel bad about it.

Whenever he would catch himself gazing upon you he would get this guilt deep in his chest. He felt as though it was appropriate for him to look at you when the two of you were just colleagues.

So he slowly walked up to you and carefully picked you up. Walking up to his bed and laying you down in the middle, he knew he couldn't sleep there that night, that would be simply too much.

He decided to go and spend the night in the guest room. Just as he was about to leave your side, you woke up and grabbed him by the wrist, gently but enough so he could feel it.

"Baldwin, stay."

THE END.

[marikosenwrites]

kazuuuuuuuu for anythin pls

inazuma men dating head canons

sen: okay so first request im nervous af shitttt but anon thanks for the request! i'm gonna do inazuma men dating head canons because head canons are literally the easiest to do but i enjoy doing them! (since it's "for anythin" i'm gonna do gn!reader) surprisingly little inazuman men btw (wanderer is in sumeru but kuni and scara sob not including them)

warnings: names called, ooc?, i can't do poetry (kazuha esp)

gn!reader

kazuha

♡he's a soft bb

♡when he first confessed, he read a poem instead of normally confessing and this is normal for kazuha to speak in riddles

♡you had to think for a minute until you figured it out

♡ofc you accepted his confession

♡you guys went on small dates at first, like at uyuu-tei and such

♡soon, you started going to each other's houses instead

♡like home dates and you would drink tea and cuddle on the couch together <3

♡sometimes he would stay for the night

♡like one time he came over and a thunderstorm happened

♡so he was like "the rain doesn't stop me from returning home."

|♡"but, i wouldn't want you to catch a cold! ah, i know! you can stay for the night, i bet i have some larger clothing that suits you." you tried stopping him from leaving.

|♡kazuha smiles, "as you wish, my love."

♡so you let him shower first and then you

♡he wore a large shirt of your that your aunt gifted (she mistakenly had your size wrong)

♡you guys cuddle in bed and he gives you a small forehead kiss that makes you go to sleep

♡you just smile and lean closer into his chest

|♡"may the stars of teyvat representing me be with you even when i'm not here, my darling."

thoma

♡loves you lots

♡he goes on dates with you at the komore teahouse, you both were ayato's friends so he allows it

♡you guys love taroumaru to death

♡even if you had an allergy, you would just wear a mask and look at taroumaru lovingly from a distance

♡i feel like thoma's a simple is best kinda guy

♡so the simplest dates ever, like just cafe dates or home dates thats all no further planning needed

♡if you have a garden or something like that, you guys just hang out in the grass and like make flower crowns (if you or thoma know how to make one)

|♡lying in the grass be like "dear me, these flowers are so pretty. but do you know what's prettier?" he asks you, turning his head to look at you.

|♡"...no, what is it, thoma?" you reply while you fiddle with the petals.

|♡"you." he says, as he watches your cheeks turn bright red and put tomatoes to shame.

|♡"...thoma! that's so cheesy!" you would tell him, but your reaction says otherwise.

♡regularly stays at your home, or stays with you at the kamisato residence if ayato and ayaka allows.

♡often big spoon if you're gonna like do cuddling and stuff in bed

|♡"goodnight, darling! have a sweet dream, i'll still be here when you wake up. if waka doesn't wake me up, i guess."

arataki itto

♡would often play that game (i forgot) with you

♡challenges children with you too

♡i'm gonna expect that the two of you are playful so you're gonna be like YESS when the child says okay to yours and itto's antics

♡you guys gonna keep losing and then like get one or two victories and stuff

|♡"YES YES YES WE WON!!!" itto screamed in happiness.

|♡"I KNOW, ITTO, I KNOW!" you screamed back at him, frightening the kids, both of you.

♡their parents gonna ask them to stay away from you but they're like "NO IT'S FUN"

♡they end up getting grounded for a week 💀

♡he stays at your house for at least one night if you have home dates because kuki is coming after him

|♡when you're like "NO SNACKS FOR YOU THEY'RE MINE"

|♡he would shout back "NO FAIR I WANT THEM TOO"

♡and you two end up on the couch sharing the pack of chips with him

♡you fall asleep on him and as the "caring boyfriend" he just sleeps too

♡in the morning you wake up first because itto is such a sleeper

♡you have to make breakfast for him but he wakes up in the middle of you making breakfast and gives you back hugs <33

|♡"morning...did you have a nice sleep?"

gorou

♡feel like he's the type to confess first

♡he gave you apples when he confessed (there are a lot in watatsumi i suppose (and fruits))

♡supports pda and doesn't support pda at the same time

♡maybe holding hands and smol kisses

♡likes inviting you to watatsumi and pick fruits together <3

♡his nickname for you is just the shortened form of your name (if ur name is already short well.... just your name i'm sorry)

|♡"n/n, look! this one's perfect! come on, i'll pick it with you." gorou gestures for you to go over to him.

|♡you go over to the boy. "oh, really? wow...it really is perfect!"

|♡"i know, right? come on, pick it."

♡after some convincing, gorou picks it for you 💀

♡you guys just hang in his house (if he has one) bc you're still in watatsumi and no you dont live there

♡he's skilled with his hands (both in cooking and...the other way)

♡loves being the big spoon when sleeping with you

♡actually wraps his tail around your stomach to keep your warm

♡cooks your breakfast when you wake up

|♡"n/n, it's time to wake up! i have breakfast on the table for you, come on, it's apple pie!"

kamisato ayato

♡i used to say kamistos shit ignore it

♡your confession caught him off guard (you confessed first)

♡he also has feelings for you

♡so ayato asked if you would like to go to komore teahouse when his schedules are a bit more manageable

♡ofc you said yes

♡yall were just chilling and getting to know each other at the teahouse

♡doesn't exactly favor pda you realized

♡as the head of the kamisato clan, assassins are often planted in his house

♡doesn't want you to get hurt bc of him

♡you end up getting hurt? YOU'RE STAYING WITH ME FOR 2 MONTHS

♡showers you with affection when you're alone though

♡quadraple triple double checks if yall are alone

|♡"okay, seems like we're alone now," your boyfriend states, giving in to his uncertainty and letting out a tired sigh before coming to your loving arms on the couch.

|♡"'yato, are you sure you don't need a break? ayaka seems bored lately." you slightly massage his shoulders, feeling his tense muscles relax at your touch.

|♡"maybe some time. most of the events need me to be participating. i'm sorry i can't spend more time with you, love."

♡you hum in silence

♡ayato loves that you're getting along well with ayaka

♡he has her teaching you swordsmanship

♡sometimes thoma joins ("but, waka, i wanna join! i wanna help y/n-san!" -thoma)

♡ok so sleep positions

♡sleeps face up

♡but when you're there (usually after the attacks or smth) he's wrapping his arms around you while sleeping on his side

|♡"good night, darling. let's hope none of the little bugs bother us tonight. have plenty of sweet dreams, good night."

shikanoin heizou

♡his ego went *BOOM* when you confessed to him

♡heizou loves solving mysteries with you <3

♡one time he asked you to attend his case so you can see how cool he is

♡loves sharing food with you (?)

♡goes to onsens with you all the time

♡loves listening to music with you too

|♡"isn't this piece soothing?" he would ask you, putting an arm around your waist.

|♡"of course, 'zou. this is just right for me," you would answer, leaning into him.

♡loves staying at your house for some reason??

♡also stays for like a month once at a time probably half his year is in your house

♡but he doesn't mind

♡your presence is enough to soothe him and his tired mind

♡just sleeps face up

♡you do too

♡he always wakes up earlier than you, case or no case

♡BREAKFAST!!!

|♡"morning, my love. had a good sleep? i hope you did, because breakfast is coming."

(would do this at 7am idk why)

a/n: i learned the art of putting the "keep reading" sign (thumbs up!)

©all banners, dividers, and stories are made by marikosenwrites and the pictures in it are from pinterest. i own none of the GENSHIN IMPACT characters mentioned here.

[spiriteddreams]

I Know the End

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader Warnings: angst Word Count: ~2k A/N: season 2 is out who's ready to cry with me :D

Nothing ever ends poetically. It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was all red. But it’s easy to be selfish when you are in love. You hold onto the concept like a lifeline and become strung alone in this clothesline of hearts. Your emotions are spread thin, clipped at the edges at the result of a strained relationship.

A love with Gojo Satoru was never one for the books. It was whispered words when no one was looking and lingering touches when you pass by one another. How many years have you played this cruel game with him? The memories bleed together as do the years and yet you hold on selfishly. To him, the world did not need to know of the way his crystal eyes lingered a second too long on your figure, or the way he swore upon empty promises to no one but you. He loves so easily, sly with his words and so eager to be around you. His touch is a brand, his words a blunt knife, driving in, digging deep, dismantling you bit by bit. But the worst comes when the overwhelming weight of it all feels heaviest whilst you are alone. If there’s one thing that becomes clear the longer you’re around him, it’s that Gojo Satoru is far too good at pushing people away. He’s so easy to get along with and you find yourself falling for him before you even realize it. But he keeps people at a distance. No matter how close you may be, physically and emotionally, it’s like you run into Infinity everytime. 

And yet you glorify it in your head, pretend that sickly sweet words and phantom touches are real. You cling to the memories in the worst way possible, because everyone leaves you before Gojo does. And when he finally does, he does it so casually cruel that you think you feel his technique shoot through your chest and leave a gaping hole as you bleed. You tell yourself that you have parted on good terms, because in your head, it is easiest to remember the good rather than the bad. 

You remember high school days, hand clasped around Shoko’s as you chased after two boys who wobbled on a bike together. The blissful ignorance of childhood is one that you wish you would have treasured longer. Because a mission gone wrong turned the course of fate and you could only watch as both Gojo and Geto stumbled down their separate paths. Only that Gojo’s led towards you and your open arms. The guilt for not reaching out far enough for Geto still eats at you and you wonder if perhaps Gojo holds that against you.

But when you recall the memories and bury yourself under sheets and stare at picture frames that collect dust and his text messages you’ve chosen to ignore, you are selective about your memories. Because the good is warm and comfortable and loving and oh so cruel. But the good is followed by the bad in a tidal wave that crashes upon the shore during high tide. It pulls you into the deep, that freezing painful deep that stings your skin and shocks you to your core. And then you are drowning in hurt, in tears, in unrelenting sadness as you mourn over a relationship held together by cobwebs. 

But forever will you believe that Gojo Satoru is deserving of highest praise. His name carries across the stories of the legendary holder of the Six Eyes who, when he was born, shook the world. And he knows it. You relish the days when your friends, your family would tease you both. Words of appraisal cooing over the two of you even as Gojo looked away with a blush on his face and grumbled for everyone to “stop making a big deal out of nothing.” But even as he said those words, he didn’t pull away from your touch, instead leaning closer, as if chasing the brush of your fingertips against his skin.

Then it ends. It ends on a day you least expect it the most, when the sun is warm and caresses your face and you think that it is just another day of rest, basking in the sun. Despite that, the heavy feeling in your chest that had been building for the past few days has seemed to fester, ready to spill over. Something is near and you know it, can feel it and no matter how much you try to push away the growing anxiety, it sits heavy in your chest. You wonder if Gojo’s noticed. And as if he was reading your thoughts, he appears, calling your name with a tone that douses you in cold. Peeking through his sunglasses, his blue eyes look duller than usual.

“Are you okay?” you sit up, watching as Gojo looks down at you for a moment, then looks away. He is silent and you wish you could read what was going on in his head. Perhaps that’s always been one of the hardest things about loving someone who’s walls have been built up for so long that even when he allows you to peek through one crack, it becomes smoothed over in an instant, blocking you right back out.

He sighs, “I’m fine.” His words are far too clipped for comfort and you straighten up, staring up at him in confusion. You don’t prod him to speak, knowing that when he wants to, he will. Gojo likes to choose his words slowly, precise and careful with everything he says. He dislikes rushing into things, and gods knows how much he spends in his head mulling over his thoughts. It scares you, more than you’ll admit, to know that there are a million things that Gojo has, and will always, keep from you.

“I think we should end things.” The words take a moment to register, but when they do, you’re snapping your head up, eyes wide and mouth parted in shock. “Before you argue about it, I’ve already thought it over,” Gojo says bluntly. He still refuses to look at you. “I don’t think beneficial for us to see each other.”

You stare at him in shock. “Beneficial? You act as if this is just a romance of convenience.” The cold seeps into your tone before you register it. But Gojo looks unfazed, as if he was prepared for this. It scares you. It’s just another one of those things he’s kept to himself. “Satoru, what’s going on?” He hates the way you say his name, so breathy and concerned. Sometimes he feels as if you can see right through him. He wonders if you’ve caught onto his own lies that have begun to wrap around his own throat.

“The distance between us has grown too far, I don’t think it’s fair for us to continue to pretend that we feel the same,” Gojo shakes his head. You push yourself to your feet, gathering your composure before fixing him with a glare, the same defiant glare that drew him in. He takes a shaky breath and reminds himself that this is necessary in the long run. You will be safer if you are farther away from him and this path that he’s chosen to follow. The sacrifices that are sure to come will put you both in a precarious position where you will have to choose between one another and the greater need of Jujutsu society. And if Gojo can make that decision before it tears you apart on the spot, it’s a risk he’s willing to take. The apologies can come later, he’ll grovel at your feet if he has to, put aside his ego and swear up and down that he’ll never deceive you like this again. But for now, please, he begs, please just let him do what he needs to do before someone else forces your hand.

“No,” you shake your head, eyes narrowed as you take a step towards him and jab a finger at his chest. Your eyes widen momentarily when you make contact with the hard plane of his clothed chest; he let down Infinity. “No, you don’t get to pull this on me. One week ago you were telling me how I was yours for the rest of your life and now you’re trying to break up with me? Cut the bullshit, Satoru.” He hears the tremble in your voice and he’s not sure who you’re trying to convince more: you or him.

“Look, I’ve been thinking—”

“Then stop thinking!” you shout. You sound irrational and you know it. The tears gathering in your eyes are a clear sign of it. “You’re making it sound like this is all some thought out, self-sacrificing, selfish plan and—” You both stare at one another. Gojo hates that you know him so well because you come to the right conclusion far too quickly and he knows that you’re not going to back down now. 

“This is your plan isn’t it,” you say quietly, voice tinged with disbelief. Gojo was known for his plans, well thought out and well executed to success. So careful and thoughtful in the process and you’ve watched him time and time again commit to things without a second thought. So to hear that you’re part of this next selfish plan, placed in this position, ready to be swallowed up on his chessboard is a slap in the face. You can play dirty too and in this moment, with anger and disbelief clouding your thoughts and vision, you strike faster than him.

“Fine. You want to break up, then we break up. But we’re doing it on my terms,” your words are all bark and no bite but you refuse to let him see. You hold back the tears and push through your watery words as you step back.

“If you want to call it off, then it’s off for good. When all this shit is over I’m going back to Kyoto and I don’t ever want to see your stupid, pretty, face again!” you stumble over your words and Gojo only watches behind his glasses, mouth pressed into a thin line. You want to rip them off his face and force him to look you in the eyes and tell the truth. Far too cocky for his own good, you hate that Gojo Satoru is so effortlessly cruel and fuck does it make you angry. The words spill and you take low jabs, both verbally and physically and Gojo just takes it. He takes the watery calls of his name and the cursing, your gasps of breath and your own selfish cruelty that he knows damn well that you don’t mean.

By the time he disappears, you’re left with nothing but the crisp air of Autumn. Sharp and stinging in the back of your throat, you inhale sharply as you whip your head in the direction you know he’s gone in: your shared home. The worst part is that you had both kept things a secret, a little game where you both sat at other ends of a glass table and now that it's shattered, where do you turn to, who do you turn to?It is then that you finally realize that despite your own attempts to twist the game, you had fallen right in. Blinded by the sudden rush of anger and the overflow of anxiety from the past few days you had done exactly what he had wanted. A breakup is a breakup, whether or not it is on his terms or your terms. And you know that now the words have been said, it’ll be hell to try to find him and talk it back over.

If only he was still around to hear your cries of his name as you run towards him, bloodied and battered, voice hoarse as you frantically search for him in Shibuya. You catch wind of the words “prison realm” and your blood runs cold.

On October 31, Gojo Satoru feels his limbs stiffen and his mind races. You’re still out there, still fighting, still angry, still cursing his name with love disguised as hatred. You’re still out there but so long as you stay out there, stay alive then things are all going according to plan. And when he finds a way to escape, to destroy those cursed fingers once and for all, he’ll grovel at your feet and promise to love you to whatever end. 

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3 Bonus: @shiinleaf and gojo kiss and make up and there was no official breakup and all is well

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

Do you think Draco has a daddy kink?

Interesting question!

In all honesty, if Draco was feeling dominant (which, I see him as a dominant leaning switch) I don't think he'd be into the Daddy thing.

(I accidentally did an entire sex headcanon of Draco based on all the hcs I have developed while writing for him over the past weeks. So here you go lmao.)

I think it would either gross him out because he's heard his mother refer to his father as 'Daddy' when he was younger ("Now Draco, listen to your daddy") or it would just fall flat for him and it wouldn't do anything for him.

I think in terms of titles, Draco would surpass 'sir' and go straight for something like Master. He would fucking love if you called him Master, because he would love the idea that he has total control over you, he owns you, he is your god. (Tbh, he would probably also like it it you addressed him as 'My God' or 'Oh Godly One'.) He would get really turned on by a title that shows a lot of power.

He would probably even go for 'My King' or something like that.

But completely truthfully? I think Draco would like it best if you called him by his name. Now this is probably an absolutely unpopular opinion, but I think Draco Malfoy wouldn't as much be into the BDSM performance hard kinks - but he would hardcore be into making love. Passionate, kissing over every inch of your body, making you cum with his tongue as a way to worship you, laying you down and spending hours worshipping your body, whispering praises against your skin.

(Like genuinely in my head - Ron fucks rough like an animal and Draco fucks sweet like a husband in love, and most people would swap those two. But this is the truth to me.)

Like - think about it.

Draco hasn't had a lot of love in his life. (Whether you subscribe to the idea that his parents were abusive or not, they were never super affectionate with him, they always just kept him around as a prize and not like a real person, and then they offered him up to the fucking Dark Lord when that was convenient for them.) So he would seize the opportunity to get all of his love and affection from you. All of the touch and physical contact he craves - from you.

Being a hard dom involves way too much restriction of touch, and when he's alone with you, he craves touch. And he just can't deny himself of that. He wants all the skin to skin contact possible - he doesn't have the mental energy to play dom/sub games often. He's much more of a service top if anything.

Also - he's spent most of his life being called 'Malfoy' by others, especially people using his name like it's a slur or a bad thing - so he would fucking love for you to call him by his first name, and hearing you say it with pleasure would be his favourite thing. So he would likely prefer that above any title. Because it's special to him - the way you say his name, in and out of the bedroom, is like poetry. He cherishes it.

Anyway, yeah. If you want to discuss other Potter boys (or gals) at length, I will! (js, Harry James Potter has a Mommy kink...)

[st-eve-barnes]

Burn (Modern AU Aemond x Fem Reader/OC)

Summary: It's Christmas Eve and you're stuck in the library with one other visitor: the quiet and mysterious Aemond Targaryen.

Warnings: 18+ for Explicit language and content, mild angst and comfort, some Christmas feels.

Word count: +3700

So my obsession with this man isn't going anywhere soon, I just can't get him out of my head and I had a real craving for some Modern Aemond this week.

Poems used in this fic are from Lang Leav and one of my personal favorites, Pablo Neruda.

(All my fics are also on AO3)

Darkness fell over university campus that December evening. Thick soft snowflakes covered the grounds and the buildings with a peaceful white carpet, just in time for Christmas. Inside the library the only lights were coming from the small reading lamps on the tables and the colorful festive lights from the big tree in the middle of the hallway. 

You sat by one of the tables, tucked away in your warm winter sweater, nose stuck in your books, oblivious to the weather magic outside. There had been a few other people here tonight when you had arrived but by now they had all left, one by one, leaving you alone with the librarian, a young lady who was always more interested in playing games on her phone than in the many enchanting stories in the books surrounding her.

Sometimes you didn’t understand people. 

Your head had been buried in poetry books all week, rereading old favorites and discovering new gems, highlighting sentences that spoke to you, anything to find that spark and become inspired but so far all they left you with was that heartbreaking feeling that you were incapable of feeling anything. 

Your pink marker moved across the page over another favorite : “There are days when the melancholy settles on you like a sudden change in weather. The kind of sadness that is intangible. Like the presence of an ache where you can't pinpoint exactly where it hurts, you just know it does.”

You sighed deeply.

It was Christmas Eve, you could have been with your family, surrounded by your brother’s dumb jokes and your mum’s traditional Christmas roast, drinking too much before unwrapping the presents and then passing out on the couch while some sentimental Christmas movie you’d seen a thousand times played on the old living room tv. No, it wasn’t a big deal or anything, the whole night wasn’t even that special but you had always been a sucker for nostalgia and right now your heart ached for just a little glimpse of home.

Instead you were here and the smell was not one of Christmas turkey but of old books in an old building, a continent away from everyone you knew and loved. You wrapped  your arms around yourself to fight the cold chill running up your spine. 

Focus. You came here to write so why weren’t you writing?

You looked up to see the hands on the big clock ticking away, the page in front of you still as empty as it was 3 hours ago. You stretched your arms up over your head and let out a deep breath.

That’s when you noticed him, seated two tables away from you.

Aemond Targaryen.

You’d seen him around campus before but he was the last person you expected to see here tonight. 

You wondered why you hadn’t noticed him before now because everything about him demanded to be seen. From his long legs covered in black jeans and black leather boots to his long blond hair and pale beautiful face. Tonight he had traded his usual black leather jacket for a black fuzzy sweater, making him look softer than usual. 

And of course the eye patch…you’d heard the rumors around campus but nobody seemed to know exactly what happened except that it had been a violent, tragic accident in which he lost one eye at a very young age.

Aemond was leaning on his elbow and kept his face down, buried deep into his books. Not Literature and Poetry like yours but History and Philosophy. 

His family was one of the richest founding families of the town, everybody knew who they were and who he was. But Aemond wasn’t like the other Targaryens, he never displayed his wealth, he was quiet and usually kept to himself. An outcast almost, everyone knew who he was but nobody seemed to really know him. Every single time you’d seen him around campus he’d been alone. 

Much like yourself.

God, you were getting distracted again. Focus.

You returned your attention back to your books, reminding yourself why you came here tonight. To find that spark, that one little nudge that would kick your writing into gear. The story was right there, in the back of your mind, it just needed to come together and find its way onto the paper.

You leaned forward in your seat, head in your hands and staring down hard at the empty page, willing it to come to life.

You had nothing. 

And the hopelessness set in again. What were you even doing here? Did the world really need another uninspired writer?

You pushed yourself out of your seat. Maybe taking a walk would help clear your mind.

**

Your fingers brushed over the hard covers of the poetry books in the back of the library. It would be closing time soon, there was no point to this anymore. You could read a thousand poems and it still wouldn’t change a damn thing. You had no muse. How could you write a love story when you didn’t even know what love was? How could you write about desire when it was a concept so foreign to you?

You placed the last of the books you borrowed back in its place when a shadow moved behind you, startling you.

When you turned around you found him leaning against the book shelves, arms crossed and a curious look on his face as he watched you. Aemond.

“I apologize, I didn’t meant to frighten you.” His voice was deep yet strangely soft and you realized you had never actually heard him speak before.

“That’s okay, you didn’t."

He gestured to the last remaining book in your hands,”May I?”

“Oh, it’s…”

“Pablo Neruda,” he read, quirking his eyebrow.

“I was just…looking for some inspiration."

He opened the book and started browsing, giving you time to study him without him noticing. His pale long face, full lips and sharp cheekbones, the eye patch you so desperately did not want to focus on but couldn’t help yourself, the blond hair resting on his shoulders. Everything about him was exquisite. His frame strong but thin, his long legs…

“Hmm, I like this one,” his voice pulled you from your thoughts and without looking up at you he started reading the poem:

“While the sad wind goes slaughtering butterflies I love you, and my happiness bites the plum of your mouth.

How you must have suffered getting accustomed to me, my savage, solitary soul, my name that sends them all running. So many times we have seen the morning star burn, kissing our eyes, and over our heads the gray light unwinds in turning fans. My words rained over you, stroking you. A long time I have loved the sunned mother-of-pearl of your body. Until I even believe that you own the universe. I will bring you happy flowers from the mountains, bluebells, dark hazels, and rustic baskets of kisses.”

He looked up to meet your eyes before reading the last sentence, voice dropping even lower as he whispered,”I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees.”

You were frozen in your spot, mesmerized by the raw sensual tone in his words and the way he was looking at you as if he wanted to devour you.

Desire.

That what had been unattainable to you suddenly right here in your grasp, as unexpected as it was undeniable. And he sensed it.

You turned away from him, needing a moment to catch your breath. Aemond didn’t give you one.

Even with your back towards him you could feel his eyes on you, feel him move closer until his hand was on your shoulder. You shivered, no longer from the cold, in fact you were no longer cold at all. He caressed your shoulder gently, then your arm, fingers tracing patterns into your sweater, making you wish you could feel him on your bare skin. When he reached your hand, his fingers brushed against yours…electricity like you’ve never felt.

He waited for your response. You had none, your entire body was burning up and he had barely touched you.

He laced his fingers with yours, thumb circling your skin softly, caressing you as if you were already lovers. His voice a whisper in your ear,”Tell me to stop and I’ll walk away.”

You could feel his warm breath in your neck and you thought you might die if he stopped now. You had never needed anything as much as you needed him.

Your voice was barely even a whisper, but it was all he needed to hear. “Please, stay.”

He pressed his body against yours, his chest to your back, trapping you between the book shelves and him. He grabbed the hem of your sweater with both hands and pulled it up, over your head. 

Then his hand was in your neck, pushing your hair to one side and pulling your top down just enough so he could kiss your shoulder blades. Soft and delicate at first, easing you into it, letting you get used to his lips and his touch. You sighed against him, leaning back against his chest, silently asking for more.

When his lips moved up to your neck his kisses were no longer chaste, he was all tongue and teeth now, needy and wet and you felt so high you were afraid you’d never come down again.

His hands grabbed hold of your waist, keeping you close, lips curling up into a grin when he became aware of his effect on you. He caressed your hips, your stomach, up to your breasts, cupping them softly through your top. You arched into him, starved for every touch.

Neither of you seemed worried about being in a public place where someone might come in at any time and catch you.

But there was no one, there was only him and him was all that mattered. His hands were so warm on your skin, a comforting fire you would gladly get burned by. His lips still on your neck, marking what he claimed as his now.

“Aemond,” you moaned, unable to hold back.

He spun you around to face him and your lips were on his instantly, returning the fire with which he’d kissed you. His teeth grazed your lips while his tongue refused to untangle from yours, kissing you deep and slow and so incredibly passionate. He licked into your mouth as if you were giving him life. 

You wanted his tongue in between your legs. 

Your hands pulled at his fuzzy sweater, desperately needing  to get rid of the layers still separating you two. He took the hint and pulled it over his head, leaving him in just a black t shirt. Your hands roamed over his strong chest and stomach, pulling. More. Closer. God, you needed him so much closer. Your hips involuntary rocked against his and he bit down on his lip, his erection now pressing hard against your inner thigh.

Impatiently he pulled his own shirt over his head, offering you more skin and you eagerly took it, licking his neck and kissing his shoulder while your fingers moved down over his stomach. He hissed when you reached his happy trail and when you started unbuttoning his jeans he quickly grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Nuh-uh. You first,” he breathed and he pulled your shirt over your head and unclipped your bra.

You had no time to feel self conscious because his mouth was on your breasts right away, sucking at your nipples until your back arched  and you had to bite your lip to keep from moaning so loud the librarian would hear you. His fingers started fumbling with the buttons of your pants, pulling them down and letting them drop to the floor. 

The sudden cold made you shiver for a moment but it didn’t last when Aemond’s lips found your ear again,”May I taste you? Please?”

“Yes,” you breathed, biting your lip in anticipation”God, yes."

A smirk on his face when he added in a low whisper,”I want to lick you until you cum on my tongue.”

You couldn’t speak or function when he dropped down on his knees in front of you, his eye looking up into yours and you realized this was the first time you really looked at each other.

Time stopped.

He was so beautiful, the intensity in his stare made you feel all kinds of things you as a writer should be able to describe better but there were no words for him. No words at all for how he made you feel except that for the first time in a really long time you felt. 

Your hand slipped into his hair, caressing his head softly.

He never took his eye off you as he slowly pulled your panties down and started putting soft kisses on your inner thighs. Your leg was pulled up over his shoulder, giving him all the access he needed. 

That first flick of his tongue on your clit sent shivers right down your spine. He drank you in as if you were the best thing he ever tasted, the soft whimpers and moans falling from your lips encouraging him. His hands searched for yours, finding them and lacing your fingers together as he held you, his mouth pushing you closer and closer to your release.

When he suddenly pulled back you whined at the loss. “Don’t stop!”

He smirked up at you,”I’m not going to stop, but you need to be quiet for me or we’ll get kicked out.”

“I’m sorry,” you couldn’t help but giggle.

He squeezed your hands,”Can you be quiet for me, sweet girl?”

You nodded and bit your lip. Aemond held eye contact for a moment and then his mouth was back on your clit. And you could see stars.

You wanted to scream but you didn’t make a single sound when he made you come undone, hands squeezing yours hard, giving you an anchor to hold onto as your entire body started to shake around him.

You weren’t sure how long it lasted but it felt longer than ever before. The next thing you knew Aemond’s mouth was back on yours and you could taste yourself on his tongue. His fingers now exploring your folds, not giving you time to recover, teasing, circling, you were so wet and he revelled in it. That satisfied smirk back on his beautiful kissable lips. And then he slipped two fingers deep inside your walls, stretching you, making you bite your lip again just so you would keep quiet.

He was struggling to open his jeans and get rid of his boxers, “Fuck, I need to be inside you, right now.”

This time he was the one fighting to keep his moans quiet and the desperation looked insanely attractive on him. You couldn’t explain it, this pull he had on you, you barely knew him and you doubted he even knew your name. But none of that mattered, if he didn’t fuck you soon the world would end.

“You want it?” he breathed into your ear and teased your entrance with the head of his cock.

Your legs wrapped around him and he lifted you against the book shelves, pushing in slowly while his lips found yours in a sloppy kiss.

“Tell me if it hurts,” he spoke in between kissing you, his voice as soft as his lips ,”I don’t want to…”

“I want you,” you whispered and to encourage him you moved your hips with his,”I don’t care if it hurts.”

He moaned into your mouth and then grabbed hold of your hips, fucking you slowly but more urgently with every thrust. He was big and he didn’t hold back but you could take it. You would take anything he would give you, you were so lost on him.

“Look at me,” he breathed,”You doing okay?”

You nodded and wrapped your arms around his neck, holding him close,”I’m okay.”

His hand moved up to cup your cheek, eye seeking yours and holding eye contact as he started fucking you harder. His forehead pressed against yours. Did he feel it too? This need to be even closer to each other. You whimpered when your orgasm started to build.

“That’s it, my darling, give it all to me, let me take it,” he moaned softly into your mouth,”That’s it, you’re doing so good…so fucking good.”

You were gone after that, not only did you see stars but the entire universe was right there when his hand moved between your legs to find your clit again. His dirty words in your ear pushing you closer and closer to the point of no return. He was as lost as you were, slamming you into that bookshelf and biting down on your shoulder to keep his moans quiet when your walls squeezed him so hard he fell apart.

You couldn’t come down from it, and you didn’t want to. Right here in his arms, with him still buried deep inside you, is where you wanted to stay. 

Aemond’s breath heavy against your skin, hands caressing your face and hair, putting soft kisses on your forehead. You wanted to disappear right there.

***

“Hey? Hello? Sleepy girl? Wake up.”

Your head moved up from the table, confusion on your face when you found the librarian looking right at you, both amused and slightly annoyed.

“What?”

“You dozed off about an hour ago," she pointed out.

“No…I was just…I,” the reality of the situation dawned on you, especially when you noticed Aemond sitting in his seat, still buried deep inside his books, not even looking up. He hadn’t moved, and neither had you. “Oh, no…”

“You’re drooling a little there,” the librarian teased when she noticed you staring at him.

“Oh, god,” you covered your face,”Was I…loud?”

She gave you a little smile,”No, don’t worry about it. I just came to warn you we’re closing in an hour, so anything you still want to get done, now is the time.”

She left you alone and you buried your face into your hands. For a few minutes all you could do was sit there, trying to get the dream and Aemond out of your head and come back to reality. Then you realized you couldn’t, and maybe you shouldn’t, maybe you should just use the gift your imagination had given you.

Your fingers found the keyboard and you started typing. You didn’t stop until the library closed an hour later and you had written 10 pages without even really trying. The characters were there, and their love story…it was dripping with passion, still foreign to you somehow though not so much anymore now. Your lips curled up into a smile at the thought of him. Even though it had been nothing but a dream you could still feel his lips burn on your skin.

While you were gathering your stuff and putting on your coat you’d noticed Aemond had already left. You couldn’t help but feel your heart ache a little. For what could have been, for what he might have meant to you, if only it could have been real. But he would never know, nor would he ever know you or even notice you.

You braced yourself for the cold when you opened the library door and stepped outside but instead of the biting chill of winter you were met with soft small snow flakes falling down on your head while you could hear people sing Christmas carols in the distance. Another involuntary smile curled around your lips and suddenly your eyes were feeling teary. Who knew it would turn out to be a magical Christmas Eve after all?

You should call your mum in the morning, wish them all a merry Christmas and let them know you were doing okay. Not entirely there yet, but okay.

When you continued walking the path away from the library you noticed him. Black leather jacket over that fuzzy sweater, hands deep in his pockets to fight the cold. For a moment you froze, unsure of what to do. Should you approach him or just ignore him? But then you noticed he was already walking straight towards you.

“Hey,” his voice came out a little hesitant, almost shy even,”I…um…I noticed we seem to be the only two people on campus tonight.”

“It would appear so,” you hid in your scarf but looked up to meet his eye and gave him a smile,”Hi.”

“Hi,” he returned your smile with one of his own,“I’m Aemond.”

“Yeah, I…I know who you are,” you confessed,”I’m Y/N.”

Another smile on his lips.“Hello, Y/N. I saw you in there,” he looked back at the library,”Actually I’ve seen you in there a few times but…you always seem so immersed in your books I couldn’t bring myself to disturb you.”

His eye held your gaze.

“You wanted to?” you carefully asked,”Disturb me?”

He smiled shyly again and you thought he never looked more beautiful than he did right now, staring at you with such softness on his face as the snow kept falling down around you both.

“Can I…,” he hesitated, searching for the right words,”Can I buy you a coffee or something? Or a very late Christmas dinner?”

You laughed and his face lit up.

“Yeah, okay,” you nodded,”Both sound very nice actually but…can you do something for me first?”

“Of course. What do you need?”

“Can you pinch me?”

He looked a little confused at your request. Confused but not unwilling to do as you asked. 

He stepped closer to you and carefully reached for your hand, letting his fingers brush against yours ever so gently before lacing them together and giving a soft but firm squeeze.

His touch…electricity like you’ve never felt.

“Like that?” he asked, his voice now just as deep and seductive as you remembered from the dream and you couldn’t look away from him.

“Yeah, exactly like that,” you smiled softly and then bit your lip. Neither of you broke eye contact nor did he let go of your hand as you both started walking.

[gold-rhine]

sub Kazuha x Gn! Dom Reader

A\N: Repost bc my previous blog got shadowbanned.  I would describe this as melancholy fluff with some smut and a tinge of poetry. Kind of a slowburn, as much as you can get in a oneshot. and yeah, the preface is tanka, not haiku, but tanka worked better

Warnings: nsfw, but not focused on porn. Cock stands for dick\strap as usual. Edging, overstim, praise, oral, semi-public.

wordcount: 3k

He watches the hills,\ red asters on the lush of green, \ not knowing summer \ is madly in love with him \ and flowers bloom for him alone

You meet him at a party, he’s a friend of a friend. You notice how he sweeps his crimson eyes over you with interest, but don’t pay too much attention. He doesn’t seem like anything special at a glance. He’s pretty, sure, but nothing outstanding, a build on the smaller side, but not enough to be distinctly slender or feminine, just a little short. He’s thin in a wiry kind of way, his skin too tough and weathered from the constant exposure to sun and wind. Someone else could take this brilliant white hair with a red streak and turn it into something striking, but he just keeps it in a ruffled sideways ponytail.

He’s quiet, unassuming, introverted, doesn’t shy away from people, but doesn’t shine either, few thoughtful remarks and a sweet smile. You deem him nice, but boring, and proceed to ignore him. He’s tactful and understanding enough to catch on, and doesn't try to press himself on you.

This night you leave with someone else and easily forget about him.

Next time you meet him, it’s at another party and he’s consoling a crying girl in a corner. She’s choking on her sobs and he’s talking to her, quietly but firmly, you can’t make out the words, but even from afar you can sense the steadfast kindness in his calm voice. You realize it’s better to not interrupt, but give him a glass of water as you pass by. He hands it to the girl and offers you a brief, grateful smile. Next thing you hear about her after some time is that she finally left her asshole boyfriend for good when everyone already gave up on trying to convince her.

Some time after, you two are in the same company again, this time it’s a bohemian group and you’re trespassing in a closed park. You don’t expect him to go along with it, since he seems so quiet and timid, but he actually scales the high iron gates first without hesitation, perches on top and helps others climb.

He looks strikingly different in motion. Easy on his feet, agile, he doesn’t show off, but there’s an elegance of precision in his movements. When he pulls you up by the hand, you lean over him just a little too close and stay just a moment too long. You see the moment he realizes it’s intentional when he looks up at you, his eyes widening, just a brush of pink on his cheeks.

“I didn’t expect this from you,” you tell him, grinning. “You seem like a such a goody-two-shoes.”

He blushes harder, but gives you a wry smile.

“I have a lot of unexpected sides.”

“Then I’m looking forward to finding out,” you wink at him, let go of his hand and jump down, hearing him take a shaky breath behind your back.

Next time you at the same party, he gets a little drunk, and when it comes to risque games that he usually passes over, he sits down, swirls the bottle, and it looks like he knew it would point at you because he throws you a glance, blushing, even before the bottle stops twirling.

You two go into a small, dusty closet, stand between the old, crinkly clothes, and you expect him to be timid, but he suddenly reaches for you, presses his lips to yours firmly. You answer his kiss and feel him melt against you, his soft lips tasting sweet like fruity liquors he was drinking. The sharp sting of herbs kept there against the moth and the smell of Kazuha’s heated skin mix together into a unique blend, he’s warm and firm in your arms. When you run your hand down his body, he makes a cute noise against your mouth, bends his back a little and you can feel the lace of some old dress scratching at your fingers as you move. This is the first time you notice his ability to sharpen the reality around himself, make the insignificant details turn into a unique, unforgettable poetry.

You break the kiss and move away with a sigh, meeting his intent, searching eyes, his arms still around your neck.

“Maybe when you’re sober, baby.”

He bites his lip in frustration, but lets you go. For the rest of the evening, you keep your eye on him to make sure no one takes advantage of his vulnerable state, but he soon falls asleep on the sofa in the corner of the room. When you gently put a blanket over him, he stirs, quietly mutters your name. You smile and press a quick kiss against his temple and leave him to rest.

Few days later when you walk through the woods near the river, you hear faint sounds of music. Curious, you go through the bushes and see Kazuha sprawled on a large sun-warmed rock on the riverside, playing a harmonica, a couple of cats curled around him.

“Hey.”

He jolts up, surprised, disturbing one of the cats. Then he sees that it’s you and relaxes with a small smile. Grey cat huffs indignantly and goes back to sleep. “Hey.”

“What are you doing here, casting a spell to attract the cats?” you ask with a smirk, walking up closer.

He shakes his head with a soft, quiet laughter.

“I like relaxing on warm rocks and the cats like it too. It’s just a happy coincidence.”

“Hmm, I don’t know if I buy that you’re not casting an enchantment. You’ve also attracted me after all.”

“Have I?” he asks quietly, but intensely, his voice trembling just a little, looking up at you with hopeful, questioning eyes.

You lean down, catch his chin and feel him tense under your fingers. You smile, slowly and gently stroke the tender underside of his jaw, watching his eyes lid over.

“Tomorrow, at noon, this place. Show me a truly unexpected side.”

Next day at noon he’s sitting at the same rock, completely naked, watching the river, his back to the road. He feels so nervous, all of his nerve endings raw and sensitive, even slight tickling of high grass stalks around the rock reaching up to his legs resonates sharply, intense midday sunshine feels like a heavy touch. He’s not really noticeable from the road behind the thick bushes of wild briar roses, but the risk of being seen like this is there anyway. He looks at the dark waters of the river with long ribbons of gently swaying water plants, with his heart beating so loudly in his ears that he almost misses the sound of your steps.

You run your hand from his sharp shoulderblades down his spine, very lightly, just the fingertips, and he shivers. When you gently turn him over, press his back against the warm rock and whisper “You managed to surprise me once again. Good boy,” against his neck, he gasps, and when your hand slides down his body, it finds his cock already hard for you, his legs falling apart in invitation. He makes the sweetest moans, air trembling around in a hazy summer heat, smelling sharply of the river and bittersweet mix of grass and flowers. He watches bright red petals of briar roses swirl down the dark green water currents while he himself is losing control as you fuck him, his moans breaking into screaming as he gets closer and finally comes.

He’s not very experienced, but very curious and open to experiments, has no problem admitting when he likes something, even if he blushes adorably while doing so. He likes spontaneity, taking risks and not knowing what to expect. You like teasing him while you two are visiting some new place, - first of all, he’s a joy to travel with, easygoing, surprisingly shrewd, good humored enough to turn inconveniences into something to laugh about. He has adventurous and sharp senses to always find something interesting even in places he’s never been before, but also has so much sincerity and sense of wonder that even most mundane and boring things turn interesting in his presence, your own little poetry lens.

One night he leads you off the main street through twisting alleyways to find a  small town square with a festival of firedancers. When you ask him how did he know, he laughs “I heard the drums and smelled the burning oil, it was bound to be something interesting.” There’s music and cheap wine, and beautiful performances all around, people dancing with burning staffs and poi, flaming spheres on the chains, swirled in both hands. He watches with quiet excitement, biting his lip like he can’t decide whether or not do something, and you nudge him gently.

“Why don’t you try it too, if you want?”

He looks up at you with a shy smile. “I don’t know, you think I could?”

You grin with reassurance. “Of course! Just wait a second,“ you tie his hair up in a small bun to keep from getting burned and let him go. “here, now you’re ready.”

He almost hits himself in a face with fireball at first, but quickly adjusts, his natural dexterity leading his movements, red flares of pois twirling around him with a flourish. He meets your eyes, his own radiant and crimson, fire trailing circles around him, and suddenly the night focuses itself around him, all other dancing lights becoming flashes of red leaves swirling in the darkness, while in the center of it he smiles brilliantly just for you.  

Later, in a small dorm room next to a big hall where the new friends you made at the festival are celebrating wildly, he rides you, slightly burnt fingertips gripping at your shoulders, bright red wax sliding down his arched back, and his deliriously sweet moans drown in the noise of drunken songs and laughter.

He’s also so fun to play with, slowly wind up during the day as you two are just exploring around. He loves feeling like he’s always open for you, even if people around don’t realize, that you can have your way with him at any moment, drag him into the secluded alleyway or a dim arc and kiss him, grope or even push him down on his knees and use his obedient, sweet mouth.

You make some great memories that way too. Finding a small private courtyard drowning in wisteria and peonies, where you two eat lunch on the carved bench. The big street where a litter of puppies escapes it’s owner and runs after him, so he has to catch and give them back, laughing with an armful of puppies trying to lick him.   A small café overlooking the sea, where people on the boats wave at you and you wave back, smiling, seagulls are screaming overhead and begging for crumbs, and when you kiss him, his lips taste of seasalt and caramel dessert he just ate. He’s on his knees on the cracked teal tiles of the public bathroom, his shirt ridden up high enough to expose his puffy pink nipples and his pants down to his thighs, showing his hard, red dick that twitches and leaks as he’s moaning around your cock, his wet gleaming eyes lidding over and your hand buried in his soft hair.

For him, it feels like being carried by a whirlwind, butterflies in his stomach and a translucent swirly current overlaying over the day, punctuated by red splashes of lust that only sharpen everything around. His clothes are buggy enough to hide his arousal, and from time to time you catch his quick excited glances, slight blushes, enjoy how lovely he is in this luminous sharp desire, how you can make him tremble and his breath hitch by just rubbing the back of his neck or drawing circles on his elbow. At the end of the night, sometimes you fuck him roughly, make him come fast, and sometimes you stroke his pretty, swollen cock for so long without letting him cum that he’s writhing in front of you, whimpering and begging incoherently, oversensitive to every touch, tied hands clawing at the sheets. Sometimes he feels like even though he’s free, his heart is clear, but empty, and so the passion you draw from him, extreme, overwhelming emotions make him feel truly alive.

It’s a few months into knowing him he tells you of his past, scarcely, not empathizing, very matter of factly, the disgrace of his clan, his unfair persecution and exile, his travels and struggles. After, you tie him up and kiss and caress every centimeter of his body until he’s delirious with pleasure, make him come again and again. You feel like you have a unique treasure, a golden shard of sunshine in your hands, a rare case when innate kindness doesn’t break or dim under the hardships, but instead only strengthens, brightens with experience and wisdom despite the young age.

One night when you’re exploring a new city, you’re caught in the rain and ran, laughing, to the nearby dingy eatery that is still open at this time. It’s in the semi-basement, so you can see at the street level how streetlights are flickering, blurred in the falling rain currents and puddles, and the cheap lamp over your small table is flickering too. Kazuha is shamelessly perched in your lap, because nobody there cares, your arm around his waist, a little drunk from light beer he’s having, but mostly from how you look at him, his features beautiful and soft, his smell of rain on clean skin and forest leaves overcomes the stuffy sour air around. He truly blooms from attention and certainty that he is wanted, becomes more talkative and excited, starts telling you a funny story about his adventures with his fiend Beidou, widely gesticulating with his hands. Sometimes you catch his hand and kiss his knuckles and he giggles cutely. Your hand slides under his shirt and then under the band of his pants, first just covers his hipbone, but then slowly, teasingly starts moving down his stomach in lazy, light circles, and he doesn’t resist, just tenses, flushed and squirming in your lap, looking into your eyes, your hungry gaze promising what you’ll do to him later.

In the cheap room you're renting for the night you have to fuck him on the floor, bedcover thrown underneath, because the old bed creaks horribly if you even breath on it. His mouth is stuffed with a pillowcase to muffle his involuntary moans and whimpers, because the cheap walls are too thin, and his eyes are rolling over helplessly as you whisper how beautiful and good he is in his ear.

It’s almost sunrise when he’s curled against you on the bed, the sky in a small round window in front of you is clear and vast after the rain, pearly grey and illuminated from within in the wake of dawn. The silhouettes of the buildings are striking against that background, the whole world beautiful and tender like a watercolor painting. He tells you quietly of his friend, his feelings never spoken out loud, and an untimely death that made sure he’ll never be able to express them.

“I made my peace with it,” he says softly, watching the first rays of sun glimmer on the peaks of the highest towers. “I just feel like I’m… not enough for something grander. I’m just a short haiku in the lives of others.”

There’s a lot to say to that. First of all, how much he really has to offer, but also how clarity of a perfect haiku can change life better than the longest poem. But more importantly, how he is enough as he is, how he is a pleasure to be near just by existing, no special effort needed on his part. When you move to hover over him and caress his body, the bed creaks long and loud, but you ignore it. As he’s melting under your touch, he bites his hand to keep quiet, but you gently pull it out, kiss the bitemark.

“But.. I will make noises, I can’t help it,” he whimpers softly, looking up at you while your fingers circle his entrance.

“It’s okay, sunshine,” you tell him, pressing kisses to his jaw, corner of his lips, side of his neck, gentle curve of his collarbones. “You deserve the world. Just enjoy yourself. I’ll tell whoever complains to fuck off.”

He bites his pink swollen lip, whines sweetly and arches his back as you thrust your fingers inside him, his white fluffy hair covering the pillow under. Even on the shittiest old bed, in the cheapest dingy room, he’s perfect.

[ouroborosorder]

what do you think the most stellar examples of arknights' vfx are?

Okay so there are a lot of examples, so I'm going to try to keep my description of each one short. Unsurprisingly, most of my favorite effects are on more recent, paid skins for fan-favorite/meta 6* operators, since those are the ones they put their whole ass into.

Executor the Ex Foedere. The way that it weaves blasts of light and the shapes of Sankta wings into his shotgun blasts is absurdly creative. Perfect for a saint of Laterano.

Passenger's Skin. Specifically his S3. Stellar lightning is a weird pitch, but it's so fucking beautiful that it works. This is the effect that convinced me that I might enjoy being a VFX artist after all, not fucking kidding.

Jessica Alter. Look. Her skills are underwhelming as fuck, they're all the same shot effects every time. But. Do you genuinely understand how amazing these gunshots look? Do you know how hard it is to make a stylized gunshot that doesn't just look like magic? These are breathtakingly good. The glass shattering on hit genuinely made my jaw drop when I first saw it.

Eyjafjalla the Hvit Aska. It's hard to make a healer that genuinely looks unique, but Eyjalter's dreamlike colors and flat effects manage to bring the visual style of So Long Adele into every map and make it look reasonable with the artstyle.

Kirin R Yato. Monster Hunter's effects are extremely distinct, and seeing them recreate MH's style in Arknights' is really lovely. My one sorrow is that I wish there was more lightning, since like. Kirin.

Lin. Glass is a legitamately hard thing to pull off because it so often just looks like crystal, but leaning more into glass dust and shards makes it work perfectly. Her skin is also quite pretty, but it loses the glass look that made me love Lin to begin with.

Reed the Flame Shadow. Holy fucking shit holy fucking shit holy fucking shit holy fucking shit fire made of flowers?? The way the fire looks secondary to the whole thing while being undeniably present is stunning. Her skin is nowhere near as good tho.

Penance. Penance has such a stunning aesthetic that it immediately endeared me to her. Her vibe of gilded thorny chains carries to her effects and it works.

Texas the Omertosa. Fucking. Duh. It's hard to make a normal sword swipe look unqiue but Texas nails it. Her skin's effects are even more stunning, even if the animations are awful.

Minimalist. It's hard to make effects that are minimalist and still look good.

Specter the Unchained + Skin. I need to specificially call out her skin. Her skin may be one of my favorite pieces of effects at all time. The colors, the aegirian poetry as part of the visuals, the stellar water, it's all practically perfect.

Kazemaru. A sleeper hit!! She's got a lot going on with the "paper-controlling ninja whose clone has a completely unique aesthetic" thing so it seems like she might be too busy, but it manages to pull it off. Shoutouts to her clone's spawn, which actually does the slash mesh slightly wrong intentionally because the ring look actually helps a lot.

Goldenglow. It's rare that I see a lightning character and say "I have never seen anything like that before in my life" and Goldenglow's pink and blue stylized lightning genuinely shocked me.

Ling (Does it Wash The Strings). If you want my choice for best VFX in the game, this would at least be in running for first. It's flashy as hell, but manages to not be overbearing. The S3 dragon attacking with mountains rising from the earth alone is stunning, but the normal attack impact is my favorite part of the entire thing. It's so simple and elegant and stylish.

Amiya Guard. Amiya's Guard form is the combination of Amiya's Arts, Sarkaz Arts, Ch'en's swordfighting, the normal AK Arts and sword design languages, and a tiny bit of weird space tech to represent the Precursors. And it manages to come together to something that feels really cohesive while still drawing attention to how incongruous these elements are. The effects actively tell the story of Amiya - a girl with big shoes to fill, carrying the legacy of so many.

Ceobe, and her Unfettered Freedom skin. At this point in Arknights' lifespan, they had a much more defined visual language for how Casters look compared to melee units. Ceobe, being a Caster who throws fucking enchanted melee weapons instead of casting spells? So she combines their languages, with the buildup and trails of Arts casters and impacts of melee units, it's subtle and I love it. Unfettered Freedom deserves a special shoutout because I love geometric magic so fucking much.

Conviction's Skin. Why is this so good they're a joke operator.

Dorothy's Skin. I may have mixed opinions on this skin, but the effects are objectively stunning. I am personally heartbroken that she doesn't have the sand anymore, but that's a personal thing. I also don't like that her S3's range is obfuscated by the explosion but again that's nitpicking.

There's probably WAY more that I've missed and even more I cut for time, but those are my favorites after browsing the list of operators and skins for like, two hours straight. If there are a few I missed... Look, this list is this long already.

Also note that I didn't really list enemies or anything other than playable operators. Their enemy effects are usually... servicable, with a few standout exceptions with Talulah and Frostnova.

[baby-yongbok]

Poetry

Chapter Four - Rising

Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, the type that makes you giggle

Summary: Two hopeless romantics in a room during a terrible storm sounds like the perfect date, right?

Word Count: 4,035

A/N: I just got out of the hospital three hours ago but I had to queue this post as soon as I got home. I'll go rest I promise but I really hope that you all enjoy this chapter. + If you haven't already, I highly recommend reading the previous parts before this one so that you get the ✨full experience✨. See you next Thursday at 6 💕

Part Three

✧Poetry Series Masterlist✧

✧Main Masterlist✧

 You can’t remember the last time that talking to someone felt this easy. Maybe it was when you first met Changbin at your freshman university orientation, or maybe it was back in second grade when you made five new friends on the playground. Whichever it is, you can almost guarantee that neither of them compare to this.

Once you and Hyunjin agreed on something to eat, the two of you got to talking. The fact that you were unaware of what he did for work prompted him to offer you a game of twenty-one questions. To be honest, the idea of it made you feel like you were in high school again but you agreed seeing as you’re both adults and you highly doubt that he’s going to ask you what your favorite color is and then follow by asking if you are a virgin. By the time you two got to question five the game changed from twenty-one questions to plain old story telling. He told you about his roommate Felix and how he’s known him since the eleventh grade, as well as his roommate Han who is a head stylist for Versace New York. The food arrived some time during his story about the day that he and his roommates all moved in together and they all lost their keys at the same time. You can’t remember the last time that you laughed this hard, the last time that you smiled this much. You’re almost sure that Changbin can hear you over his music on the other side of the apartment. 

As the two of you are eating you decide to open your Spotify and play some music. This led the two of you to go back and forth recommending songs and asking each other the constant question of ‘have you heard of this artist?’. To your surprise, your taste in music didn’t differ much. You’re a bit more into rock than he is and he’s a bit more into indie than you are but there is definitely some major overlapping. 

“Oh, you have to know this one.” Hyunjin throws his head back as he tries to remember the name of the song that he wants to recommend. “Always Forever by Cults, please tell me you know that song.”

You type the song into the search engine and furrow your brows as you study the album art. You press play and once the first few notes fall from your speakers you perk up, jaw hanging open as you look over at Hyunjin. 

“Oh my gosh, I love this song! I never knew the name of it, I heard it earlier this year when I went ice skating with Changbin and his girlfriend but I didn’t get a chance to google it.” You stand from your seat at your vanity, your food long forgotten as you sway to the music happily. The smile on your face makes Hyunjin’s heart light up as he watches you from his spot on your floor. 

“I saw them perform this song live a year ago when I went to some indie rock concert with Han and his friend Jeongin. I’ve loved it ever since I heard it, something about it is so captivating.” You nod your head as you continue to dance softly, swaying back and forth, mimicking a solo slow dance. 

“It makes you feel like you’re in a daydream.” You close your eyes and spin yourself, keeping your eyes closed when you come to a stop. “Like you’re slow dancing at prom.”

“Yeah?” Hyunjin leans back on his palms, his eyes never leaving you. “I didn’t go to my prom so I don’t really know the feeling.”

Your eyes snap open and your mouth falls agape again. “What?” 

“Oh, please don’t stop on my account.” Hyunjin teases but your reaction doesn’t falter.

“You didn’t go to prom? You didn’t get your legendary prom slow dance under the disco ball?” Hyunjin’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Disco ball? Did you go to school in the 80s?” You roll your eyes and take a couple steps back to your computer, starting the song over.

“You’re only a year older than me, hush.” You turn up the music and take a step towards Hyunjin, holding your hand out in his direction. He looks at your hand and then up at you, his confused eyes meeting yours. “Come on.”

He stands slowly, adjusting the sweats that you gave him and taking your hand. 

“What’s going on here?” You lean forward a bit, taking his other hand and placing them both right above your hips. 

“You are going to have your legendary prom slow dance.” You smile, placing your hands on his shoulders and starting to sway with the music. 

“Is that right?” Hyunjin asks, clearly amused by you. You smile up at him, nodding your head like a teenager, a very fitting attitude for the situation. “Wouldn’t it go more like..”

Hyunjin moves his left hand down to rest on the small of your back and the other gently moves your hand and intertwines your fingers with his. Your breath catches in your throat as he pulls you in closer, your chest pressing gently against his stomach. You slowly slide your free hand down to rest on his bicep, the feel of his skin under your touch sends an electric shock up your spine. 

“Like this?” He whispers as the two of you start to rock to the music, his honey orbs staring into yours in a gentle exchange. 

“Yeah, this is - this is right.” Your tongue feels like it’s going numb and you aren’t sure how you’re still standing right now because you definitely can not feel your legs.

 Even though Hyunjin is the one that pulled you closer to him, his heart is pounding in his chest. Every second that his hand rests on the curve of your back is a second closer to him going insane, a second closer to losing all control and spilling his heart out to you. He couldn’t help it, the electricity in your touch charged him up in a way that no one has before. Each time that you touch him he finds himself wanting more, wanting to say more, do more, be more. Anything for you. 

“What color was your prom dress?” Hyunjin asks, desperate to break the tension between you two as you rock back and forth. 

“Green, it was a green gown that almost looked like it was made in the 50s.” A laugh escapes you as memories start to pass and Hyunjin smiles at the sound. He loves your laugh, he could listen to it all day and night if you’d let him.

 “My date was my high school best friend, Sam. He was a bit of an oddball like me, we agreed to do a 50s theme together. He got a vintage three piece suit to match my dress and he bought me the most beautiful silk gloves as a gift.”

Hyunjin watches you as you reminisce, your cheekbones high and covered in a deep blush. He closes his eyes for a second, imagining that he knew you then, imagining that he was there when you walked into the auditorium. Hair done up and your green dress coming to life with every step you took. He imagined seeing you laugh and dance with your friend as he admired your beauty from afar, the smile that would take over when you hear the first few opening notes to your favorite song. He imagined you slow dancing with some guy that he’s never met. He wonders if the steps came to you naturally or if you needed some guidance, did the disco ball shine as brightly as your eyes? There’s no way that it could have. Even the newest stars in the sky couldn’t compare to you. 

Hyunjin’s eyes fly open when he feels you, leaning forward and resting your head on his chest. Your eyes are shut gently and your breathing is soft and even, He takes in the green of your sweater and for a moment he lets himself pretend that he's with you on your prom night. He let himself pretend that the two of you are teenagers, inseparable and blindly in love. His thoughts slowed down all together, all of his senses zeroed in on you, on this moment. Could he allow himself to stop watching from the sidelines? Could he allow himself to wholly and completely get involved with you? You’re so sweet, so beautiful and precious, he’s never met a woman like you and he wishes that you never met a man like him. A man so afraid of love, so afraid of giving in. 

“You would’ve been handsome.” Your voice breaks the silence and Hyunjin feels his pulse quicken at the sound of it. 

“Hm?” 

“If you went to your prom, I bet you would’ve been handsome.” You tilt your head back a bit, still resting on his chest. Hyunjin grins down at you, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips. 

“Yeah? What makes you think that?” 

“When you got here and you were wearing that suit you looked handsome, soaking wet but very handsome.” You smile at the memory of how he arrived hours ago and Hyunjin feels his heart flutter a bit. “I mean, I’ve said this before but you’re very beautiful, Hyunjin. And I don’t just mean physically.” 

He stops swaying completely, your eyes boring into each others. Both saying something so similar yet slightly different. 

“You’ll change your mind about that.” He whispers and you sit up completely, your hand squeezing his a bit. He forces a faint grin before shifting his attention over to your vanity. You move your hand from his bicep almost instinctively, laying it gently on his cheek and turning him back to meet your gaze. 

“I mean it.” He stares back at you and for a second you swear that you notice tears gathering at his lash line before he blinks them away. His eyes slowly wander from yours, tracing over the curve of your nose before landing on your lips. He licks his lips a bit as he studies them, the faint glossiness welcoming him to lean in. 

Hyunjin wants nothing more than to go for it. If you meant what you said then maybe he could allow himself to let go. Maybe he could stop watching from the sidelines and actually live the life that he’s been yearning for. Maybe, just maybe. He looks back up into your eyes and he can see it, he can see your longing. You’re wearing your heart on your sleeve and he can’t even seem to get out of his head for two seconds, he has the most beautiful woman that he’s ever seen practically begging him to kiss her and yet, he can’t. He just can’t. 

Suddenly he takes your hand that’s intertwined with his and lifts it into the air, prompting you into a spin that completely takes you by surprise. You nearly forget about the palpable tension that was bouncing off of the two of you just seconds before. A surprised giggle leaves your lips as he spins you again, this time a bit faster. 

“I’m gonna get dizzy.” You laugh as he spins you for a third time and you can feel your center of gravity shifting, you can hear a faint chuckle escape from his throat as he steps forward to catch you. He holds your side against his chest as you wait for the dizziness to die down. 

“Thank you.” He says, wrapping his arms around your a bit tighter. “Thank you for that.” 

You aren’t sure if he’s referring to the dance or to what you said just a second ago. A gentle ‘You’re welcome’ falls from your lips just as the song ends and you both jump at the sudden sound of Pierce the Veil blaring through your speakers. 

“Is it on shuffle?” Hyunjin asks through a laugh as you push yourself up off of him to sit back at your vanity. You laugh along with him shaking your head as you turn the volume on your speakers down. 

“Any more recommendations?”

After what felt like hours of recommending songs back and forth the two of you decided to clean up your space and move over to your bed to watch a movie. You scrolled through the movies on Hyunjin’s Netflix but nothing was jumping out at you. While you searched for your next method of entertainment Hyunjin was carefully taking inventory of your space. His eyes slowly scanned over all of the medals on your wall and the trophies on your bookshelf. He looked closely at the details of each photo that you had framed, asking who a certain person was every so often before nodding and taking another look. You enjoyed being seen by him, the interest that he took in you made your heart flutter like a little girl watching her first crush.

“Anything interesting?” Hyunjin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize that you’ve been mindlessly scrolling for a bit. 

“Uh, not really” Hyunjin hums in response as he scans the spines of the first row of books in your extensive collection of literature. “Oh, did you ever finish that Brontë novel?”

Hyunjin looks over at you, shaking his head and bringing his hand up to the back of his neck, a nervous habit that you noticed last week. 

“Uh, no I actually got distracted with another book.”

“Oh really? You should really finish Villette, I promise that you will be completely enthralled.” He smiles, nodding his head. 

“I believe you, you seem to know all of the good stuff.” He chuckles a bit, looking back over at your collection. “How about we keep things classic, instead of watching a movie we can read like we usually do. How’s that sound?”

You smile, closing your laptop and pushing it towards the end of your bed. 

“I’d like that, I mean, I basically have a mini library right there so pick your poison.” Hyunjin chuckles again, nodding his head and turning his attention fully towards the books. 

“They’re organized by genre so the top shelf is non-fiction, second is history, third is fantasy, fourth is romance, fifth is poetry and sixth is fairy tale.” He looks up and down your tall bookshelf then over at you with a smile. 

“This is quite an expensive collection.” You smile, nodding proudly, you take pride in how your collections grown over the years. “Is there anything that you don’t have?”

“Yes actually, a hard cover of Maya Angelou’s children's book Life Doesn’t Frighten Me. My mom used to read those poems to me when I was little. Eventually the copy that we had fell apart and by then I was much older so we didn’t replace it.” Hyunjin watches as you smile at the memory but it quickly fades as you fall deeper into your thoughts. He wants to ask you so many questions. Is your mother still alive? What was the book like? What was it like being read to by your mother? He’s always wanted to know what that was like.

“Maybe when you get a copy you can read it to me.” Hyunjin’s voice tears you away from your thoughts and you quickly flash him a smile. 

“Of course, You’ve been reading to me for weeks, it’s the least I can do.” Hyunjin reaches forward and plucks a book from the fifth shelf. 

“This is actually the book that distracted me from Villette.” He starts walking towards you, opening the book and skimming one of the pages before sitting next to you, leaning back against your headboard and crossing his legs at the ankle. You move a bit closer to him, your shoulder brushing his slightly, the infinitesimal touch lights your nerves on fire, the all too familiar feeling of electricity rushing over both of you. You both exchange a quick glance before looking away, why does this keep happening? Does he feel it too?

“The sun and her flowers, huh? Did I turn you into a Rupi Kaur fan?” You try to distract yourself from overanalyzing the feeling.

“You did.” Hyunjin flips through the pages as if he’s looking for something. A satisfied hum escapes him when he finds it and you watch as his eyes scan the grayed out page. “Remember when you asked me which section I think I belong in?” 

You hum in response as you study him, you can't help it, it's like he’s your favorite poem. His messy hair and full lips look like a masterpiece to you. The way that his chest rises and falls softly makes you feel like you’ve just read a piece from one of the world's most consummate writers. Just looking at him makes you feel full of life. 

“I wasn’t sure when you asked me before. I thought that I was in Falling like you, but after reading the book I have my real answer.” His eyes meet yours, calm and sparkling. You nod, prompting him to continue. 

“I think that I belong in Rising.” He opens the book completely before clearing his throat slightly and licking his lips before reading the poem in front of him. “they should feel like home, a place that grounds your life, where you go to take the day off, the one.”

“That’s one of my favorite poems.” Hyunjin nods, his eyes still focused on the page.

“There were so many pieces in this section that spoke to me, so many pieces that felt like they were just peeled off of me like a scab to a wound.” You raise your eyebrows slightly as you take in what he said, Hyunjin notices your expression and his eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What is it?”

“Nothing, it’s just, the way that you explained that was so poetic. It sounded so natural too.” A deep blush creeps up his neck and he brings his hand to the back of it, scratching lightly. 

“Really? I wasn’t trying to do that, sorry.” You shake your head, grinning at him.

“Don’t apologize, I enjoyed it. I like hearing about how you feel.” 

“I don’t talk about my feelings often.”

“Why not?” Hyunjin freezes for a second, trying to think of an answer that won't scare you away. He racks his brain trying to think of a quick response but nothing comes to mind. Usually he'd get upset with himself for having such a hard time figuring out what to say but right now he feels free. If he can't think of an excuse he doesn't have to tell you one, he can tell you the truth, he can let you peek into him for just a second. Maybe it's time that he finally does that. 

"Uh, talking about your feelings wasn't exactly encouraged in the house I grew up in." You can tell by the slight shake in his voice that this is a sensitive subject for him. You nod your head, welcoming him to continue if he's comfortable. His eyes wander away from yours and start staring down at the quilt underneath the two of you. 

"I don't think that I ever saw my mom express anything but anger. That was the only emotion allowed through the front door so naturally I followed in her footsteps." You feel a tinge of sadness in your heart as he opens up to you, the thought of younger Hyunjin harboring his mothers anger in his chest breaks you a bit.

"I used to be such a horrible person." Hyunjin chuckles a bit as he thinks back to his teenage years. "I was such a bad kid. I got into so many fights, Felix would always try to stop me. He'd try to save me but it was no use, once I got started I just couldn't stop. Not even my mom could snap me out of it." 

“Does that still happen?" 

"I've gotten a lot better at controlling myself. It's been awhile since I've gotten angry, hopefully you never have to see me like that." 

"If I do then it's alright." Hyunjin’s eyes quickly meet yours again, he holds his breath, afraid that if he exhales he’ll lose his composer. “I’ll be there to calm you down.”

You smile at Hyunjin and the vines of worry tangled around his heart loosen a bit as your words echo through his head. “How could you be so open? You’ve only just met me.”

“It doesn’t feel like it. It feels like I’ve known you forever.” Hyunjin glances back down at the poem in front of him, careful eyes glossing over the words. ‘they should feel like home’. 

Just as Hyunjin opens his mouth to reply, a sudden flash of light shines through your window followed by a deep rumbling. Your ceiling light and lamp go out but thanks to your dim fairy lights you two aren’t in complete darkness. You jump at the sound, instinctively clinging to his arm and hiding your face in the crook of his neck. His hands abandon the book and instantly move to comfort you, one rests on the back of your head and the other moves behind you to wrap around your shoulder, holding you close to him. 

“Hey, it’s okay, I got you.” He whispers, trying to avoid scaring you further. “Everything’s alright.”

“I hate lightning so much.” You mumble against his skin and the feel of your breath against him makes his pulse pick up, you can feel it against your cheek. “I’m such a scaredy cat.”

“That’s alright, I am too.” A breathy chuckle leaves Hyunjin’s lips and you move a bit to catch his gaze.

“You’re afraid of lightning too?” You move your fingers almost imperceptibly over the exposed skin of his bicep, an ingenuous movement that sends jolts of electricity up his spine. It’s you, you’re the cause of the lightning within him. 

“Something like that.” His eyes find yours the best they can in the dim light.  “I think that I’m getting over it though.”

Your eyes trail down the curve of his nose and stop at his blushed lips. He dips his tongue out to lick them and you move closer, a mere inch separating you. You look back up at him to find him staring at your lips as well. 

“Are you still scared?” His eyes flick back up to yours and you shake your head, grinning a bit.

“Not at all.”

Hyunjin brings his hand from the back of your head over to your cheek, your eyes flutter shut and he leans forward, closing the gap between the two of you and connecting your lips. The kiss is pure and gentle yet your grip on his bicep tightens a bit as you try to brace yourself. How could something so soft make you feel like you’re being blown away? 

Hyunjin exhales softly as he moves his lips against yours, the electricity in his body has morphed into fireworks. There’s not a single worry in his mind, the only thing he can think about is you. This is all about you, maybe it always has been. 

He deepens the kiss, just for a second. Just to get one final taste of you, to feel you this close to him for one more brief moment before he breaks it. You both pull away slowly, opening your eyes at the same time and staring into each other's eyes like their black holes sucking up your universe. Hyunjin gently brushes the pad of his thumb against your cheekbone and you can’t help but smile. You smile wide, showing your teeth and giggling a bit. Hyunjin lights up right after you, chuckling a bit. He leans in and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin for a few seconds. He pulls away, still smiling, and you look up at him.

“Maybe I’m in Rising too.” Hyunjin’s smile grows wider, his joyful gaze searching yours.

“Yeah?” You nod your head, leaning into his touch.

“Yeah.”

← Previous Chapter ♡ Next Chapter →

[wraithdance]

The TF 141 Compatibility Love Report

For: @stuffireadandenjoy

Disclaimer:

This is based on my personal opinion and interpretation of you and the character.  the user makes no claims to be a real doctor or any medical professional. All court requests will be responded to by a hired mariachi band singing a beautiful rendition of N.W.A's 'Fuck Tha Police' (please don't sue me :^)

The Doc says your TF 141 Perfect Match is…

Kate 'Watcher-1' Laswell!

Romance: I didn't just choose Kate because she's perfect for you, but because YOU are perfect for HER! She's patient and mature, the perfect partner to truly appreciate the complexities of your brain!

Kate is often used to maintaining order and polite distance from others in order to come out on top when shit hits the fan. In a partnership with her, you'd both get to be free to be messes with each other. The way you'd lean on the other is all trust and the desire to grant the other just a lil more sweetness.

Kate holds her cards close to her chest and her love for her people even closer. She'd be the type to tease you about the thing that's (rightfully) working you up and will think about how she can make everything right in your world. God help the person who makes you frown because she may not look like it but she takes her grudges to the next level.

Kate isn't showy, she's the definition of fortitude though. She'll thumb her fingers across your cheek and remind you to take a break. She's watching to make sure you haven't forgotten to eat and surprise you with an intimate staycation where it's just you two against the world.

You would be the only one in her life to convince her to make an ass of herself and just do silly things just for the hell of it! She'd never get tired of seeing that look in your eyes when you make her sit down for a Jurassic Park marathon (she'll never admit to enjoying them lest you tease her about it!) Romance with Kate is holding hands at the bookstore, kisses beneath awnings when you're soaked to the bone from the rain, shared bubble baths where you take turns reading poetry.

Sex: Passion, passion, passion! Kate wants every time to feel like magic on fire. She's attentive and watchful (ha get it?) she wants to know every nerve in your body and which one makes your breath hitch when she kisses it.

Kate is not afraid to be demanding and after some time and utter devotion she'd be more than happy to trust you with taking the wheel on things. On the days she's completely spent and unable to communicate the weight on her shoulders making you feel good is what centers her every time.

Possible points of Contention:

Long working hours and extra secretive :(

So incredibly stubborn (can be bribed with kisses)

fighting over closet space she needs room for her loafers

Your Poly Pairing (haha) is….

KateGaz- Both are intellects of the highest degree and unbelievably good in the moral sense. Being with them would be the most electric experience as they make an effort to always communicate and be present. Kate would be a buffer for Gaz's more petty side during game nights and Gaz will whisper what cards Kate's holding when he's inevitably kicked out of the game. If you like your partners to be loving, affectionate and perceptive of your needs, this poly pairing is perfect for you!!

[transingthoseformers]

//scuttles in here Hello, have the dose of Clerk!Megs nonsense on earth with humans

In general I feel like Megs would be spilt on the humans/interacting with them. Like he is interested and kind of eager (again, he ain't like canon megs who would probably squish a human under his pedal/foot lol), but also wary and cautious because humans are very fragile. Also i think if you exposed Clerk!Megs to our/human history, the man would have a stroke so hfjkdsf.

But as for like named character that come to mind, BUCKLE BECAUSE THIS IS GONNA BE LONG!

Jack He kind of sees himself in Jack. A young teen struggling with very little, having to work to make ends meet to help his mom out, he can understand that. Megs would def would put what he is working for a break just to listen Jack ramble or listen to the kid vent while he worked on his own stuff. He allowed Jack to study in his corner of the base/where every the team is staying since it's the quietest spot next to OP. Megs has probably, unknowingly, taught Jack the tunes of a few old mining songs since I can see him humming them absent-mindly while working. Jack is probably the reason Megs probably wishes he chose a car or something similar as an alt mode because he wouldn't mind picking Jack up from school, but he will settle with sometimes carrying Jack around on his shoulder or hand when he is merely exploring Nevada's deserts or walking around the base.

Miko Even if Megs is an ambivert, I don't think anyone can match Miko's extrovert energy X_X. Megs gets overwhelmed so easily by Miko. I also think they would not get along. Like...At all? Megs probably gets annoyed Miko doesn't take her studies seriously. Like on the verge of snapping datapads levels of annoyed. Is this because of his own history? Yes. yes it is. He does not understand wasting the chance to learn and grow, in favor of video games and loud music. I feel like it's also like mutual for awhile on Miko's end too. Megatron looks so cool, what do you mean he's a giant book nerd? She probably mistook him for like a harden gladiator (hah), only for Ratchet to go "...no, he's a clerk". I feel like it would take awhile for them to even like click, maybe something happens like Megs gets hurt trying to keep Miko safe (he's annoyed by her, but he doesn't like want her dead), and Miko tries to like make it up to him by showing him some Japanese poems since she knows he likes poetry.

Raf Silent panic because Raf is so small. But like seriousness, Megs adores Raf and loves the fact the kid likes to learn. He has probably mentioned Raf to the team on Cybertron a few times when on call with Orion, to the point now Shockwave and the other science guys to gain an interest. Megs probably sits on the sidelines, doing work, while Raf talks with Shockwave (mainly) and the others on Cybertron, learning from them and jolting notes down. Sometimes Megs has to intervene and remind them not to overwhelm Raf with stuff. Would def remember and remind Optimus to bring Raf snow if forever reason that had to go to the artic.

As for all three of them together, yeah Megs adores them tbh. He is willing to help them out and sometimes humors them with flights around the desert in his alt mode. Megatron would def be the supervisor on the Cybertron science projects ratchet sort of takes over. Silent screaming when Ratchet enters more main scientist realm and Shockwave encouraging it. Would also help on any English or History projects the kids have, but is smart enough to NOT try and turn the projects into mini weapons and stick to EARTH things.

Agent Fowler (and tbh the US Gov in gen) Their relationship is strictly business. Megatron archives usually any interact they have for historical purposes. I feel like he is very neutral leaning to disliking them, but still completely neutral. If this was like in Earthspark though with this version of Megs, alarm bells would be ringing and he would be screaming at Optimus when it came to Ghost and the government in that.

Silas Kill on sight fhsdjf. Megs is more passive, but Silas awakens all urges to kill in him. Idk how Silas would work in this AU tbh, but maybe he does still end up kidnapping Breakdown and Bumblebee and stealing things from them (BD's eye and Bee's T-Cog), and Megatron is the first one to be willing to kill him. Is this related to trauma from being a low caste miner and how he was treated like a tool/object that can be broken down for parts? Maybe :).

June (Jack's Mom) You know that scene where June asks about where Optimus is and goes "Oh, i even wore heels~". Yeah that, but now include Clerk!Megs. Megatron, of course, respects June and her profession! But ma'am, why are you flirting with him, you are confusing him to no end.

I don't have words beyond "yes please"

[sasseffects]

Writer Interview Game!

Thanks for the tag @atsadi-shenanigans!!!

When did you start writing?

God, as soon as I could piece sentences together. I'm pretty sure I still have my first original short story hidden away somewhere. My first fanfiction was in elementary school, though- Sailor Moon!

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I love to write poetry, but not overly much a fan of reading it. I also enjoy reading nonfiction, but please dear god don't ask me to write it I'll die.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I really enjoyed Diana Wynne Jones' writing growing up, as well as Tamora Pierce's works. If I can possess even a smidge of their writing abilities I'll consider myself successful.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

It's wherever I can plunk down my laptop, though it's usually the loveseat in my bedroom. I usually lean against the arm so I can look outside my bedroom window while I type. My dog and cats will alternate sitting with me or on the bed, depending on their neediness levels.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

It depends on what I'm writing. Poetry? Definitely music similar in feeling to what I'm writing. Fanfiction? Go back and play/read/etc. whatever inspired me to write the fic in the first place. Sometimes I'll read previous chapters of my own fanfiction as well.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

I've surprised myself with my penchant for hurt/no comfort. Sometimes life sucks and it doesn't get better, even in fiction. It's been extremely cathartic.

What is your reason for writing?

Stress relief, and it's really fun! There's a good community out here, and I've really loved making friends. <3

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

Any and all comments are motivating; it means someone took time out of their day to say something to me!

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Vaguely competent! I have this issue where if I feel like something isn't perfect the first time then it isn't worth publishing at all. So I just want readers to think that I'm like, semi-ok at writing. Because GOD do I try.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Emotion and description.

How do you feel about your own writing?

As I wrote earlier, I have this huge issue where if I feel something isn't perfect the first time then it isn't worth posting. I'm usually disgusted with my writing by the time I finish a chapter- when I start posting "Beneath a Shadowed Sun" I will 100% need a beta just so I don't delete the whole file and dive off a cliff.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Initially, I just write for myself because it's what I enjoy and the writing is cathartic. If the writing gets even close to being posted on AO3 though, I start to panic and nitpick.

tagging @bullavellan, @thejessis, @tobuo, and @wick-de-la-vela! In case y'all have any writing projects to share!!

[murdockbuckley]

omg 10 wips?? which one is your favourite?

better yet, what is your favourite line from each??

i cannot pick a favourite but here are some snippets from a few!!

1. aroace eddie

It was forced upon him with the expectation of a domesticity pertaining to romantic love. An expectation he could never live up to, for a reason he could never admit to - for fear of being known, of being shamed, of being different.

2. girldad!buck

I remember the first time you told me about the family you made for yourself in LA. About how your Captain felt more like a father to you than Philip ever did. About Hen and Chim who felt like your older siblings. And how Athena marrying Bobby made her your sort-of-not-really-but-kinda mother. I know the bond you all have has only grown stronger through the years. They are your family. Her family too, introduce her to them. Let her know her grandparents and her aunts and uncles; Maddie is right in that they would all love and accept her, no matter how long you think you’ve ‘kept her secret’.

Ask them for help. They will help you without any hesitation, okay?

I know Eddie is probably there with you, or you’ll be telling him as soon as you’ve finished reading this. Lean on him. Accept his help. Talk to him. You are each other's safety nets, so don’t be afraid to fall into him.

3. poet!buck #1

Later that week, Buck found himself alone in his apartment with the rain pattering gently on the windows. Not the most ideal weather for him, but if he wants to write about his thoughts from that night, and everyday since, he supposes it’s a fitting choice. Maybe The Universe is trying to help jog his memory - it’s not as if he remembers every excruciating detail of every moment.

He sat, with pen in hand, on the floor in front of the coffee table. Maybe not the wisest decision because his leg pain will inevitably flair up, especially if he’s not careful. But he got some floor cushions, the big and comfy circle kind - they’re not bean bags Eddie - that he brought for the purpose of playing board games with anyone who would keep him company.

Buck supposes trying to hack into his ten year old self’s brain to write some shitty poetry is also a good use for them.

4. poet!buck #2

They were sat just far enough from the others Eddie didn’t feel bad about starting this conversation now. Besides he was curious, and he’s almost died enough times to satisfy that curiosity (Buck had already taken care of the being brought back part of the idiom).

As Buck was about to say something more, a grape hit him in the forehead. He reeled back with an offended look and Eddie hid a chuckle behind his drink.

“What are you two love birds talking about?”

“None of your business, Howard.” He threw the grape back at Chim, Eddie laughed at his offended expression.

“Oh come on. Were you just flirting with my brother in law, Diaz?”

Eddie smirked, “Oh yeah. I was telling him all the things I would do to him when we make you look after Chris next week. Like-”

“Oh gross. I love you boys but I do not want to be hearing about your sex life,” Hen interrupted, Chim exaggeratedly nodded along with her while the others laughed at her disgust.

“Chim asked! Besides, I never said it was about sex.”

“Alright, knock it off now. The actual kids are coming to eat, let’s keep it age appropriate?”

Buck floundered, “But- but I know so much about your sex life because of Bobby that’s not fair.”

Athena shut him up with a warning glare, Bobby pressed a smiling kiss to her temple.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Ikemen Sengoku - Kanetsugu

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Expect grammatical errors.

Kanetsugu: "Mai, are you listening?"

(Crap! I wasn’t listening.)

Lost in thought, I looked up in surprise at Kanetsugu’s voice and perhaps sensing my reaction, he explained again.

Kanetsugu: “I said I’d be away for a few days tomorrow on an inspection tour.”

Kanetsugu: “You’ve been spacing out ever since you got back. You can talk to me if you have something on your mind.”

(Ugh, he got me.)

Mai: “Actually, I heard from Yoshimoto that most samurai and noble families marry for political reasons.”

Mai: “Family ties are important in this era, so I’m just wondering if you’re also taking it into consideration.”

(If that’s the case, I’m not good enough for him.)

I barely swallowed those words.

Still unable to shake off my worry, he sighed dismissively.

Kanetsugu: “If I could give you up for that reason, I would’ve done so from the start.”

Kanetsugu: “From the moment you gave me permission to love you, you’re the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

Mai: “Kanetsugu...”

His serious gaze conveyed his feelings more than anything else.

Mai: “I feel the same way.”

Unable to resist, I leaned forward.

Mai: “If I eventually end up getting married, I want you to be my groom.”

Mai: “Just imagining it really makes me happy. I’ll make sure to tell you every day how much I love you!”

Kanetsugu: “Okay. I understand, so calm down.”

Mai: "No."

Kanetsugu: "You…"

(Mnn!)

I tried to give him more loving words, but he glared at me ferociously and took my lips forcibly.

Kanetsugu's kisses were forceful yet seductively sweet.

Mai: "Mnn..."

Kanetsugu: "Ha... You finally quieted down."

His voice was full of heat as he said it teasingly.

(Even his voice is sweet. I can't believe I can feel it.)

His voice was usually cold, but right now, it sounded hot, making my body tremble.

Kanetsugu: "Can you still stand? You're as sensitive as ever."

Mai: "I..."

Kanetsugu: "If not, then get up and walk to the bedroom yourself."

Kanetsugu: "If you can't, I'll carry you."

Mai: "I can't."

Even though I knew he was being mean to me, my heart was pounding in my chest.

I rubbed my head against his shoulder sweetly, and I heard him gulp for a moment.

Kanetsugu: "As a reward for your honesty, I will spoil you tonight. Prepare yourself."

With my heart beating wildly, he declared that seductively and carried me to our room.

Kanetsugu: "Earlier, you said you were concerned about my status, but in front of you, I'm just a man who loves you."

Kanetsugu: "Remember that."

(Kanetsugu...)

The words of love he whispered to me filled my heart passionately.

The next day, I was alone in my room, groaning.

(I can't just let him pamper me.)

(I may be an Oda princess on the outside, but the truth is, I'm just a commoner.)

Unfortunately, I didn't have the education that a princess of a samurai clan should have.

(I'd like to at least learn the minimum requirements to be a couple.)

(Alright, I'll ask someone!)

A few days later, when he returned from his inspection tour, his eyes widened, surprised to see me.

Kanetsugu: "What is that tired look on your face and the dark circles under your eyes? What the hell happened to you?"

(What should I do? I can't tell him the truth.)

A few days ago一

------------Flashback------------

Yoshimoto: "Bridal training?"

Mai: "Yup! I heard that etiquette, tea ceremony, and knowledge of poetry are essential for a princess."

Mai: "As the princess of the clan, she's expected to do her due diligence."

Yoshimoto: "Yes. That understanding is correct."

Shingen had once told me that the Imagawa clan strictly trained Yoshimoto in etiquette and other related things.

Remembering this, I went to ask Yoshimoto to help me train as a bride.

Yoshimoto: "Well, you picked the right guy."

Yoshimoto: "Okay. I'll tell you if it's okay with you."

Mai: "Thank you!”

Yoshimoto: "But Shingen is better at poetry. You can learn it from him."

Yoshimoto: "Shingen wouldn't refuse your request if you were to ask him."

---------Flashback Ends---------

That was how I spent the past few days, in between work, deepening my study of this world.

I still carry with me the etiquette book that I borrowed from Yoshimoto.

(I'm tired, but I can't say that since I started this whole thing.)

I decided to tell Kanetsugu only after I learned everything since I did all this to surprise him.

Mai: "Don't worry about it."

Mai: "I'm just in the mood to study, so I haven't been sleeping well."

Kanetsugu: "I see. It's good that you're motivated. I won't interrupt you then."

Kanetsugu: "Did you really think I would say that?"

Mai: "Ah..."

Kanetsugu took the book from my hand and stared at me.

Kanetsugu: "Is there something you're not telling me?"

(Ugh, no use. I can't fool him.)

Attempting to fool him isn't gonna work.

(Besides, he's worried about me, so I don't want to lie to him.)

Mai: "Sorry. I can't tell you now."

Mai: "But I'll tell you when the time is right, so please wait a little longer."

Kanetsugu: "Are you really going to tell me eventually?"

Mai: "Yes, I promise!"

Kanetsugu: "Fine."

He agreed and sighed.

Kanetsugu: "But not today.

Kanetsugu: "I don't want to discredit your efforts, but if you get sick, everything will go to waste."

His kindness made me smile.

Mai: "Well, I'll stop if you kiss me."

Kanetsugu: "What?"

Mai: "Is that not allowed too?"

I begged him, and he raised his eyebrows.

(I know he's not mad at me.)

Knowing this from experience, I waited excitedly for his reply.

(Ah....)

He silently lifted my chin and kissed me lightly.

Our lips overlapped softly for a moment, and he pulled back.

Kanetsugu: "Is this enough?"

Mai: "I want more."

(More begging!)

Feeling nervous, I tried to act a little selfishly, and he sighed deeply.

Kanetsugu: "You really are out of control."

He suddenly hugged my waist and一

Mai: "Kanets...mnn..."

Kanetsugu: "............"

This time, we kissed deeply without pulling apart.

His hot tongue parted my lips and slipped in, making me flinch.

And to make sure I wouldn't go anywhere, he tightened his arms around me.

Kanetsugu: "You asked for it, so you better take it."

Mai: "............"

Instead of nodding, I squeezed my eyes shut, and Kanetsugu laughed between our kisses.

Our kisses grow deeper and deeper, slowly turning our minds numb.

Mai: "Ahhh..."

Kanetsugu: "............"

After our deep, sexy kiss ended, I leaned against him, feeling relaxed.

(I was the one who asked for it, but that was a hell of a kiss.)

Even now, my heart continued thumping, and the heat in my cheeks showed no sign of subsiding.

(Whoa?)

Quickly picking me up, he carried me straight to the futon and slowly lowered me down, making my heart beat even louder again.

Mai: "Kanetsugu..."

Thinking of our time together from now on, I called his name in sweet anticipation.

Kanetsugu: "Mai."

He responded.

Kanetsugu: "I'm telling you, I'm not doing anything today."

Mai: "What!?"

His unexpected comment made me blurt this word loudly.

Mai: "W-Why?"

Kanetsugu: "There's no way I can touch you when you're like that. Go to bed."

Mai: "That's...ah..."

He gently stroked the dark circles under my eyes with his finger.

I felt his affection for me in his eyes, words, and even at his fingertips, making my heart squeeze.

A short time later一

Yoshimoto: "Yeah, you've improved a lot."

Yoshimoto's lessons probably contributed to my improving manners. And even Shingen's.

Shingen: "Good work. You're getting better at using seasonal words and phrases."

Mai: "Really!?"

My poem writing has also shown some growth, albeit gradually.

(Good thing modern Japan included ancient literature in its compulsory education, too. I never thought it would be useful!)

As I was thinking about this, Shingen suddenly spoke to me.

Shingen: "Mai. Someone I know is having a ceremony next time. Would you like to join us?"

Part 1╏Part 2╏Premium╏Epilogue