#can u tell i improved from the last time I drew him? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

teklarn · 3 years ago

Text

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓹𝓽. 2)

character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

a/n: ok so i just started writing on tumblr and honestly in my opinion for my first time posting smth on this the first part did really well thank u for all the likes :) (told from second pov; e.g you, your) reblogs are greatly appreciated :))

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention.

genre: a lil bit angsty

warnings: cursing, jealousy, mutual pining, slow burn romance, aged-up to third year, love triangle (square?), physical injuries, kirishima gets a little toxic, also shirtless bakugou (awooga), a crap ton of time skips bc i can’t write action scenes for shit, bakugou is a flirt (lowkey but yeah), mentions of blood

word count: 2112

pt 1 , pt 3

- - -

kirishima had broken the skin on his lower lip with how hard he was biting it. he stood in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth, ignoring the slight sting the water brought.

y/n was currently being blasted by bakugou, and they were fighting back.

jealousy panged in his chest.

bakugou had never let him know about how he felt about you, however kirishima was sure he felt something for them. you and bakugou were both a jumble of prideful and longing stares towards each other from across every room. the tension was thick enough to slice through. and while kirishima would never make a move in fear of ruining the friendship between him and bakugou, as well as him and y/n, gosh it didn’t stop him from wanting to.

he’d stood on the side, cheering you on to no end. the sports festival last year, the year before that, training exercises, he was always there. kirishima was always there.

whenever you needed him, whenever you wanted his company. so what did bakugou have over him? sure, the blond was strong and had bigger goals than kirishima, but why should that matter?

what did bakugou have? why would you want him more when he was never near you? never made an effort to see you to be there when you asked for help.

it was popular belief that bakugou was a noisy idiot, but he was actually quite a quiet boy. he didn’t bother to raise his hand in class, however he always knew the answer. he spoke rarely and only made conversation with those he was close with if they were the ones to make the effort to converse with him first.

jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. kirishima despised it.

whenever did he begin wanting to beat bakugou at something?

the cloud of guilt welling up in his chest was going to become unbearable, and soon everything he ever wanted to say was going to come up like word vomit at the worst possible time.

you swiped at your cheek, brushing off the crumbling dirt. your timing had been off, and their flip backwards had landed you in an awkward position. a vulnerable one.

honestly, though, it wasn’t like it really mattered. bakugou was a bit transparent himself. he wore a smug look like a golden medal, and held back his power just enough to keep you on your feet.

his cocky attitude was irritating and it drew you in like a moth drawn to a lamp.

sweat was beading down your temple. the day was exceptionally hot, the sun beaming down on your back like a proud child.

you and bakugou had been at it for a while. with anyone else, you would have quit by now. it’s not that you gave up easily. no, not ever. but fights could get boring, especially if you were just smashing away at them with your quirk and they were acting like they could take it.

perhaps you were being cocky.

this fight, though. this was interesting. not only because it was bakugou; also because you knew so little about him.

it was likely he never shared anything important to anyone. he was quite introverted.

it was interesting for another reason.

it was hot, bakugou sweats a lot. gosh, he looked delicious without a shirt on. he had a built figure accompanied by strong arms and a broad chest.

he’d filled out quite nicely the past few years. you hadn’t noticed until now how much he’d grown.

“don’t get distracted.”

your eyes snapped up from his chest to his eyes. bakugou became a blur, shooting himself off the ground and flipping once in the air before propelling himself back down.

before you could do anything, bakugou had you pinned, one leg pinning yours, both his hands wrapped around your wrists. he’d ditched his gauntlets, leaving the metal assistants in the sweltering heat, claiming he wanted to give you an equal fight.

he panted atop you, hands tightening.

tokage didn’t bother to leave her dorm today, thank goodness. it had just been the three of you. you, bakugou, and kirishima.

the red head had suspiciously vanished halfway through the fight, though.

bakugou’s crimson eyes bored into yours. neither of you blinked for a moment. perhaps just a small eternity each of you silently reveled in.

his erratic breaths slowed, and so did yours, although you stayed the same. unmoving, faces neutral but eyes giving away long-held secrets.

your ears flushed, and butterflies came rising up uncontrollably. you should have pushed him off. instead you gave him a wicked grin, which earned a look from him and you couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed.

“your big ass forehead is blocking the bright-as-hell sun. stay like this,” you mocked, wrenching your wrists from his grasp and snaking your arms around his neck.

his cheeks burned red. “w-what?”

“you heard me.”

he scoffed, tugging you off his neck and standing. “shut up, shitface. we aren’t even done yet.” he readied himself in a fighting stance once more.

“i thought you said you wanted to stop when you won?” you brushed yourself off as you stood.

“i know what i said. you probably weren’t even giving it your all.”

“’course i was.” you cocked your head. “why wouldn’t i?”

“you’re strong, damn idiot.”

you feigned surprise, pressed a hand to your fluttering chest. “the bakugou, dynamight himself, complimenting a humble soul like me? oh, i really must be good, then.”

“not as good as me.” his face dropped from a smile. bakugou never got enough training no matter how early or late he stayed up, or how many hours on the weekends were spent kicking a bag or sparring with friends. hard workers did all of the work there was a still wondered if they were doing enough. the number one spot wasn’t empty, but it was still reserved for dynamight.

y/n had collapsed on their bed. kirishima was itching to tell them how he felt, however he was stuck at the doorway.

they weren’t even dressed for bed, nor were they showered.

he settled with leaving his friend alone, and shut the door softly to find bakugou standing right behind him.

kirishima jumped back, closing his eyes in relief. “bakugou. what the heck man?”

“you’re creepy as shit.”

“i- what? you were the one staring at me while i-”

“while you peeped in on y/n?”

“i wasn’t peeping. i walked them back after the fight and they just collapsed. you were off doing something else and you worked them too hard.”

it wasn’t a shock that bakugou was still riled up from the duel. this boy had the energy of a mad man.

when bakugou didn’t say anything, kirishima said once again, “you overworked them.”

bakugou swat away the comment. “only because they’re not working hard enough.”

kirishima raised an eyebrow. “they work hard. they’re perfectly fine.”

“fine?”

“they’re amazing.”

“i know that, shitty hair. you think i’m blind?”

“everyone can make improvements at their own pace.” kirishima’s voice dropped.

“you train with me.”

“it’s an hour before curfew.”

bakugou jut a thumb in the direction of the door. “so? maybe you need some more practice, too,” he joked.

“you’re an ass, bakugou,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle.

the two wandered off to one of the training grounds. it was open, a wide court where they’d both kicked someone else’s ass.

the sun was just setting, a new cool breeze coming to fill the spot of the violent sun rays.

it was routine to fight each other out of nowhere. kirishima was usually quite playful, spewing jokes once in a while and taunting his friend.

this fight was different. his face was stone-cold. kirishima often took the defensive role, as his quirk didn’t allow him to project any direct attacks to bakugou.

it wasn’t like kirishima was angry at bakugou, but as soon as they started charging towards one another, he couldn’t hold back. his chest tightened, arms hardening and joints becoming strong and stiff.

with one clean sweep of his arm, bakugou was backing away from kirishima, propelling himself to the edge of the arena with a small blast. he’d always been up for a challenge. kirishima was willing to give him one.

his sudden competitive demeanor seemed to be egging on bakugou’s. the blond tongued the inside of his cheek, grunting as he shot forth, hair flying wildly.

swiftly, kirishima dodged, just barely missing a blast. his torso wasn’t hardened, so if he’d dodged any later, his stomach would have been scorched.

bakugou always took their fights seriously. he knew better than to underestimate the boy who had put together his very own rescue mission.

kirishima’s opponent stumbled from the momentum. he took his chance and brought a hardened elbow down on bakugou’s back, hearing a satisfying crack.

bakugou was crushed to the ground with the hit. his face smashed into the sandy ground. he coughed, turning over and spitting dirt to the side.

it took a moment for him to register what he did, but kirishima was at bakugou’s side within seconds. the sun was nearly gone, a pale blue sky flickering with the first sights of stars.

it was hard to make it out at first, but not impossible. kirishima saw the blood dripping and smeared just above bakugou’s lip. he groaned, cupping his face in both hands as he sat upright.

“argh” bakugou gasped. “shit, kirishima. what the hell?”

“i...i’m sorry dude, i didn’t mean to.” i wanted to, but i didn’t mean to.

bakugou raised an eyebrow and let a smile seep through his pain. “you’re improving, though.”

“are you alright?” kirishima traced the small cut on his lip from earlier with the tip of his tongue.

“i’m fine, i’m fine.” bakugou swatted his hand away. he struggled to get up, refusing kirishima’s help.

“we should head back before this gets any worse.”

bakugou kept his large hands hovering under his chin to catch the dripping and occasional chunks of blood.

although he wanted the duel to continue (it was finally interesting) bakugou wasn’t stubborn enough to keep going. so he nodded, once again denying kirishima’s efforts to help him out.

you were in the common area, fiddling with a rubik’s cube. it was just you, as everyone else was spending the night among each other. ashido had invited you to her dorm a while ago, but you’d denied, wanting to spend a few more giddy moments to yourself.

the door rattled, and in came your two friends, one with furrowed brows and the other with blood drenching the front of his shirt.

bakugou’s head was tilted up in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing down. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the blood trailing down the back of his throat.

“oh my gosh,” you gasped out, racing to the bathroom. you came back with sanitary wipes in one hand and tissue in the other. “what happened?”

“we were training,” kirishima started, taking a few tissues from the box and handing them to his friend, “and i accidentally hit him too hard.”

“you didn’t hit me that hard. you barely did any damage!” bakugou objected. you approached him, and through his fingers, bakugou peered down at you.

you asked him with your eyes, and he gave you silent permission to pry his arms away from his face. “are you okay?”

“i’m just dandy,” he scoffed.

“dude, i’m really sorry—”

“shut the hell up kirishima. i don’t want your pity. i swear this is the only time i’ll surrender to you, you asswipe.”

you didn’t laugh, not even a chuckle. “bakugou, you need to see recovery girl.”

“what the hell? no way. all she’s gonna do is give me one of those shitty slobbery kisses and scold me for being careless.”

“your nose is broken,” you said gently.

“so? can’t you fix it?”

you raised a questioning brow. “you want me to help you?”

“can you or can you not?”

“i can try to set it but you’re better off going to recovery girl instead of settling with―”

“all i need is possible. i don’t want to deal with that old lady’s shit right now.” using the tissues kirishima had stuffed into his hand, he caught the remaining blood dripping down his nose. “let’s go.”

you were more than unsure. he would end up with a crooked nose if you made any small mistake, but he didn’t think twice as he grabbed your shoulder and led you in the direction of your dorm.

kirishima wished he hadn’t broken bakugou’s nose. not because he felt bad, though.

157 notes · View notes

distinguished-slacker · 3 years ago

Note

you.

Y O U .

about your post (link below), about the art style of the characters,

YO IVE BEEN WANTING TO TALK ABOUT THAT BUT SO FAR YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE IVE SEEN NOTICE IT. After reading the last few chapters, I did notice the art style of the series has been changing. At first I thought it was a different illustrator or a new assistant or something but I didn’t have a recent book to check. Maybe the guy is stressed with deadlines but he BUTCHERED a couple of the characters. Kimizuki I noticed the most since I uh- pay attention to him a lot, but the pictures you added really sealed the deal for me. I do hope it can “go back to normal”, since the art was part of what made me check out the series. I just feel like it doesn’t look as refined as it used to, and I definitely missed Yu’s old expressions. The eyes drew me to the characters. Maybe they’re using a different way of drawing things, like switching from traditional to digital, which could explain why the eyes aren’t as detailed anymore. I’d like to know which chapter you think this started in, as I’m looking though my physical copy of book 15 to see if it’s different around then. hopefully it gets turned around, but there’s obviously no guarantee. I really appreciate you posting about this.

https://distinguished-slacker.tumblr.com/post/650704413986521088/dont-you-miss-those-old-days-when

Hi :3

First things first, I just want to tell you that the artist, Yamato Yamamoto sensei, is not a ‘he’😅 Their gender is unknown but it’s most likely that they are a woman.

Now, onto your question, I think you are looking through the exact volume where I think the art style started to change. Volume 15 contains chapters 56 to 59. Chapters 56, 57 and 58 possess the same art style as those of the previous volumes and it’s right at the end of this volume, in chapter 59, where I notice that the faces and eye shapes started to become rounder.

However, you would barely notice this very subtle change unless you are looking through the chapter with the intention of dissecting the art😭 The panel where I go like “Yes. The art style is definitely starting to change.” is this one right at the end of chapter 62⬇️

I can notice it since usually Mika would have sharper features. Artstyle started to change since the early chapter 60s but it wasn’t until the 80s that the quality started to downgrade and especially the recent ones suffered a more severe blow.

I really don’t want to break your hopes but I am still going to speak and say that it’s highly unlikely that the art style will go back to what it was once :(

There is a difference between art style and art quality. Art quality is dependent on the choice of the brushes, the level of shading and of course, tiredness. If you compare these recent chapters with the ones from years ago, you can notice that the brush Yamamoto is currently using for drawing the lineart seems blurrier and so less defined. It seems like, as you say, Yamamoto changed their method of doing art to digital, and this problem can be easily changed if they try another platform or a different method. Then, level of shading can be improved if more time is given to focus on shading (therefore less tiredness).

However, art style is not something that can significantly improve with more free time. Art style is like handwriting; it either changes over time at a very very slow pace or it doesn’t change but it never abruptly changes to something different (it requires a lot of time to change your handwriting and get used to do it like that all the time). The artstyle has been changing since the early 60s, which were written like 4 years ago. Those are 4 years of Yamamoto getting used to drawing like this, with stiff positions, lack of body curves, excess of eye brushes lashes and more which has been getting worse as the manga progresses… It’s hard to expect them to draw like how they used to 5 years ago.

Still, the current artstyle is much better than many shonen mangas out there and I know the artist works very hard but when the plot narrative is being executed so poorly, you at least want to rely on the beautiful art of the manga…but…you know… ;-;

Anyways, I am glad that you liked my post (I really chose some good pictures right?😋) and even if the possibility is low let’s hope that at the very least Yamamoto realises that this is not how Yuu’s face looks like😂💔⬇️

#I get it; Yuu’s smiles don’t feel genuine anymore #No sparkling eyes or blushes #And I am happy that someone notices Kimizuki :3 #I hate seeing my favourite characters being butchered up #I’m so picky about artstyle I know💅#owari no seraph #seraph of the end #ons asks

23 notes · View notes

riseatlantisss · 4 years ago

Text

Fighter

Anon Request : “Heyy !! If you’re still doing this, I’d love a Witcher one-shot where he trains the reader to sword fight ! The reader feels outmatched and Geralt is harsh but patient. Could u also make it a little flirty/fluffy ??? Thanks <3”

So sorry to be so late on this but I hope you like it !! Request are still open :)

You never understood why Geralt chose to train you to fight. You are not a Witcher nor any other ones of those fantastic great beings one can find on the Continent. The reason, however, turns out to be quite simple….

1,4K words - Geralt of Rivia x gender neutral!reader

Low key inspired by this quote.

English is not my first language, please excuse the mistakes.

Your back ached from the hard blow you just received. Actually, your whole body ached. Yep, sword practice with a witcher will do that to you, you thought as you struggled to get back on your feet. The sun was beating down on you. You wanted to give up and tell Geralt you reached your end. But you knew it would not make a difference. Geralt was many things. Indulgent was not was of them.

“Let this be a lesson,” Geralt announced with authority, “never turn your back on an enemy.” You turned over to see him towering you. He pulled you up on your feet with ease.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry, I did not realize how hard I struck you.” His apology was sincere. You rubbed your back but refused to let him know it actually hurt. Instead, you just nodded and smiled. I can do this.

“Good.” Geralt responded. “Pick up your sword. Let’s do that again.” He walked away and halted at a distance of ten paces. He drew his sword and pointed it right at you, ready for another round.

“Now remember. You must keep your stance composed at all times. Without balance you might as well be unarmed.” He explained, waiting for you to step into position.

You clumsily picked up your wooden sword, pointing it towards the Witcher with a novice-like apprehension. You did your best to stay focused despite the pain and tried to anticipate your opponent’s next moves. You never were good with weapons, swords, all that stuff. Your greatest chance not to bite the dust a second time was to use your brain. And you did that quite well, incidentally.

“Now, try and block my swings.” Geralt ordered.

You remained silent, trying to analyse his posture, the direction of his feet, the breeze of the wind, anything that could give you a hint on what was going to happen next, really. He’s going to run towards me in a few seconds, but he will jump on the left at the last moment, not on the right like last time, you thought, adjusting the orientation of your sword slightly to the left in preparation.

Before you could continue your thinking any further, Geralt moved towards you, jumped to the left - as you anticipated - and brought his sword to your side with force and control. Somehow, you managed to knock the blow back with a shaking hand.

“Good!” Geralt said, encouragingly. “Now, let’s see if you can hit me.” You could hear the mocking invitation in his tone. Fearing the imminent humiliation of trying (and failing) to defeat a Witcher and experimented warrior, you tried to talk your way out of this situation.

“Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?” You asked, “I mean, me, a human who can barely hold a sword up, against a Witcher? You could kill me anytime you want just by casting a spell on me, may I remind you.”

“You’re not outmatched because of my abilities, Y/N.” Geralt said, as if it that would make you feel better. “The only way for you to improve is to train. Out in the wild, a beast or a foe won’t give you this opportunity.”

“So be it.” You responded sarcastically, “Let the beast slay me. That’s one way of getting some rest.”

Geralt chuckled. However, he wasn’t going to let you off the hook that easy. “Come on Y/N, stop joking around and show me what you got.”

You gripped the sword with both hands and raised it above you head. You threw yourself towards your instructor as you brought the weapon down with all your might. You did not even see the Witcher step out of the way. The wooden blade of your sword finished its course on the ground, making you lose your balance along the way. Out of breath, you fell down to one knee, feeling the fatigue of this training session surface all at once and take over your body.

“Nice try,” Geralt said above you, reaching out to help you up, once again. ��But too bold. You must keep your strikes disciplined. You hand me an opportunity to strike back on a platter. An enemy would not have hesitated.” He walked away a few meters, turned over and faced you. “Again.” He simply said, indifferent to your obvious discouragement and exhaustion.

“It’s no use,” you mumbled, still trying to catch your breath. You sat on the ground and put your head in your hands. You weren’t even able to look at him, too afraid to see disappointment in his eyes. “We both know I shouldn’t be here.” You continued, “I’m not a Witcher. I am not a sorceress. I’ll never be a warrior. I’m nothing…” Tears started to roll down your cheeks, but you refused to let him know you were crying. You felt embarrassed enough as it was. Long seconds passed. At one point, you even thought that he had left but when you finally found the courage to look up, there he was, sitting beside you. He just stayed there for a few seconds, quietly looking at the horizon. Expressionless. It was impossible to know what he was thinking. Was he staying out of pity? To tell you he was disappointed? You weren’t even sure you wanted to find out.

“You know,” Geralt finally said after a long silence, “in my life, and as a Witcher, I run into dilemmas. All the time. Situations where it’s hard to judge, hard to know what’s right, make a decision.” His voice was different now. He had this reassuring and calm tone you so rarely heard from him. No sign of hardness or authority anymore. “When I met you, there was no dilemma. I knew right away that you deserved to have a chance and to show the Continent what you were capable of.” You looked at him in surprise, taken aback by his words. “You think I am training you to make you a soldier?” he asked.

“Why else could you waste your time with me?” You responded, still avoiding his gaze.

Geralt shook his head. “I train you because I want you to be able to defend yourself. Life on the Continent is tough. I want you to become as fierce as the enemies you are bound to make.” He paused to look at you and lifted your chin up with a gentle hand. Your eyes were still glowing with tears, but at this point, you didn’t care if he noticed. “The real truth was that I could not stand to lose you, Y/N.” He was still looking at you as if he was going to say something else, but he didn’t. You were speechless. All this time you thought he trained you to fight to hand you over or even sell you to the Royal Guard or to some rich Lord. You thought he couldn’t wait for you to become somebody else’s problem. He always seemed to be so severe. So serious. But it turned out he cared? About you? You couldn’t believe it. You were wrong on so many levels. You opened your mouth to protest but he didn’t give you the time.

“You fear I will judge you? I won’t.” He said, helping you up a third time. You could hear that familiar harshness in his voice coming back. But this time, it did not scare you. It gave you new strength. “You think you are not strong enough? You are. You have all the weapons you need, Y/N. Now, fight.”

You weren’t crying anymore or avoiding the Witcher’s gaze. You were looking straight into his eyes, feeling an emotion you thought you would never feel again: determination. His words resonated in your mind. He cared for you. More than that: he believed in you. That was all the motivation you needed right now. You have all the weapons you need. You thought as you drew your wooden sword, pointing it up to your instructor, ready to strike. Now fight.

210 notes · View notes

senstia · 4 years ago

Note

Andrew being comfortable saying i love you to neil and saying it a bunch??

im a firm believer that andrew gets comfortable being more expressive with Neil and saying i love you after he has been with him for a long time, here u go (:

The foxes had a new bet. After years of Andrew and Neil living together they all knew that Andrew and Neil loved each other. They’d seen it through subtle touches and passing glances throughout the years. But what they didn’t know is if the two boys said it to each other. Did they say ‘I love you’ ? Did they whisper sweet nothings in each others ears? Did they hold hands just for the sake of being close? Did they kiss when there was really no reason to? That’s what the foxes wanted to know. As much as Nicky wanted it, he didn’t believe that they were like that. Allison, Matt, and Dan firmly believed that Neil and Andrew had affectionate sides that no one saw. Renee stayed quiet as always and Aaron and Kevin sided with Nicky. They argued about it for about an hour, the foxes loved contemplating Neil and Andrew‘s relationship, it had become a game for them over the years, but mainly it was because they all loved the two boys so much and hoped that they were both happy.

“I have a plan,“ Allison said. “Lets go visit them! We haven’t seen them in forever anyway. We can all stay at their apartment and maybe we might see a thing or two.”

“Do they have enough space for that?” Nicky asked.

“Yeah they have a spare bedroom with two fulls and we can bring a few blowup mattresses and all sleep in there,” Kevin said.

Andrew was perched on the island in his and Neil’s shared kitchen, watching the commotion. Neil had decided that it would be a good idea to invite all the former foxes over for the weekend and right now Andrew was regretting agreeing to it. After a stressful week full of nightmares for Neil, all Andrew wanted to do was stay wrapped up in Neil until there was nothing in the world left but each other. But no. Instead his stupid junkie was bouncing from fox to fox, catching up with them all, and had forgotten Andrew completely. Andrew scowled. He had gotten far too used to having Neil’s undivided attention all the time.

As per tradition they were having movie night. Andrew’s mood had slightly improved because Neil had brought his favorite ice cream and was now sitting snug against him on the couch. The foxes were making noise all around them but Andrew’s focus was zeroed in on Neil. Neil’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright. Happiness. Andrew’s heart clenched at the sight.

Neil had spent the last week shaking and vomiting, lost in his own nightmares. He had been quiet all week, too quiet. His skin was in a constant state of clamminess and he had said no to Andrew three times. Neil always stayed close by, but when Neil was usually smothering, this week he had been distant. Seeing Neil’s smile back made Andrew’s heart clench painfully. Seeing Neil happy was all he wanted. He was so relieved by that smile it almost hurt.

Neil’s eyes drifted to Andrew’s and softened minutely as they did, “Staring.”

“Yes,” Andrew murmured, not taking his eyes off Neil. While Andrew still played the apathetic card with Neil a good amount, it was seeming more and more pointless lately. Neil loved him. He loved Neil. He had gotten to a point where he was comfortable saying it. Deflection wasn’t as necessary anymore. And then something twinged in Andrew’s chest as he realized he hadn’t said it to Neil once this week. Neil had been in such an awful state and he... he didn’t say it. Why didn’t he say it? Andrew knew words of affection were a balm to Neil’s wounds most of the time. Usually touch was Andrew’s way of showing Neil how much he loved him... but Neil hadn’t wanted that this week. And Andrew suddenly wondered if Neil had been craving words he didn’t receive.

“Drew?” Neil asked softly, pulling Andrew out of his reverie. Andrew looked back up at Neil.

“Yes or no?” Andrew asked.

Neil nodded and Andrew leaned in and kissed Neil softly, holding his cheeks in his hands. He pulled back slightly and looked at Neil, stroked his fingers along Neil’s cheeks. And then he traced Neil’s jaw with a finger, and then his eyes, his nose, and finally his lips. He kissed Neil once more softly and pulled back, settling into the couch. Neil just sighed and rested his head on Andrew’s shoulder, turning to watch the movie they had put on.

Allison smacked Nicky on the arm four times but he was too engrossed in the movie to notice.

“Nicky! They just kissed!” Allison whispered.

“We’ve seen them kiss before, this bet is about words Allison! Now watch the movie,” Nicky whispered back.

Andrew woke to darkness and an empty bed. The sheets were still warm on Neil’s side so he knew he hadn’t been gone long. Andrew padded into the kitchen and saw Neil leaning on the kitchen counter, staring at his hands like he was searching for something there. Andrew flicked on a dimmed light and walked up to Neil, leaning against the counter beside him. After a few minutes of silence Neil’s voice rang out.

“Drew,” he said, his voice was husky from disuse, he sounded drained.

Andrew look to Neil and was met with those impossibly blue eyes. They weren’t bright right now though. They were cold, distant.

Andrew took a step closer to Neil and leaned in, Neil’s entire body flinched when Andrew lifted his hand. Andrew pulled back quickly. It was becoming more frequent that Neil didn’t want to be touched after a nightmare. And that was okay. Andrew knew better than anyone that that was okay. But he didn’t know what had caused the change.

“I-I can’t. I can’t...” Neil choked out, his body shaking.

“Don’t. Don’t feel guilty for not wanting to be touched.”

“But I do... I do. I just... I can’t.”

“That’s okay,” Andrew murmured.

Neil looked up at Andrew and his eyes softened.

“Drew,” He whispered, like a prayer.

“What do you need?” Andrew asked.

Nicky smacked Allison awake and hopped to the other foxes to wake them up.

“What the hell Nicky! It’s the middle of the night!” Kevin groaned.

“Neil and Andrew are awake! We have to spy on them. Everyone wake up!” Nicky exclaimed.

Once all the foxes were awake they crept to their bedroom door and cracked it open enough so that they could see into the kitchen.

Neil was leaning against the kitchen counter in his pajamas and Andrew was standing in front of him, a few inches away. They were murmuring too softly for the foxes to hear. The foxes slowly snuck out into the room a little further so that they could hear the exchange.

“What do you need?” Andrew was asking softly, looking at Neil with something like concern in his eyes, something like love.

Neil looked torn as he stared at Andrew, like he didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I-I’ve been having nightmares about how I got the scars on my abdomen,” Neil whispered. The foxes froze at this. Andrew seemed to freeze too. Andrew stayed silent, waiting for Neil to continue.

“Usually the-the nightmares are just memories. But lately... it’s like im living through it again. I can feel every lash of pain through my body like its happening all over again. I can still feel the echoes of it when I wake up. Thats why... that’s why its been harder for me to... lately. I still want... I don’t want you to think I don’t... I just can’t.” Neil said.

“Don’t worry about me Neil. Not for a second. I know. I know, Neil. Okay? You don’t have to explain it to me. You don’t owe me or anyone else that,” Andrew said firmly.

The two just stared at each other for the longest time, Neil seemed to drink in Andrew’s presence. Every second he seemed to relax more.

“Just... just my face,” Neil murmured.

Andrew raised a brow.

Neil scowled. “Yes, Andrew.”

Andrew stared at Neil for a few more moments and then took a step closer to him. He raised and hand to Neil’s cheek and traced it softly. Neil’s eyes fluttered closed at the contact and he seemed to revel in the feel of Andrew’s touch.

“Mm...” Neil hummed in contentment as Andrew kept stroking his face. Neil’s eyes fluttered open, “Thank you. I love you Drew.”

Allison smacked Nicky on the arm, “I told you,” she whispered aggressively.

Nicky smacked her back, “This goes both ways! Andrew has to say it too,” he whispered back.

“Can I kiss you?” Andrew asked.

Neil hummed and nodded. Andrew ghosted his lips over Neil’s cheek, kissed it once softly. Then he did the same to the other. And then he finally slotted his lips over Neil’s and kissed him reverently.

“I love you,” Andrew murmured against Neil’s mouth. Neil groaned at the words and his hands tightened on the countertop.

“Say it again...”

Andrew paused for a moment and then leaned in to kiss Neil’s jaw. “I love you.”

He kissed his ear. “I love you.”

He kissed his nose, “I love you.”

He kissed each of Neil’s eyelids, “I love you.”

Andrew kissed every square inch of Neil’s face, whispering I love you each time he kissed him. The foxes were floored. Aaron looked about one second from having a heart attack. Nicky was almost choking trying to conceal his squealing.

Matt had tears in his eyes, “I’m so happy for him... Neil deserves this so much. Oh my god.”

“I never thought... Andrew...” Aaron whispered.

Andrew pushed past all the intrusive thoughts in his head telling him this wasn’t right, this was wrong. Because that wasn’t true, and he was tired of fighting himself. Andrew had been dealing with this mental block for years, Bee had been helping him get through it in therapy lately, ever since Andrew and Neil had moved in together, Bee had brought it up, Andrew’s problem with expressing how he feels. It had been a rocky road and it had taken Andrew three years of going through it with Bee before he was able to choke out those three words to Neil. But it was easier now, especially when Neil was hurting, when Andrew knew it would help him. So Andrew let the words flow, let himself be painfully honest for once. Because he loved Neil. Goddamnit he loved Neil so much that sometimes he thought it might make him vomit. It was the most terrifying thing in the world but after being with Neil for 11 years the fear was only a dull ache, it wasn’t so suffocating anymore.

Neil felt new. Like every bad thing that had every happened to him was washed away with those words, with Andrew’s lips on his skin.

“Yes or no?” Neil asked as Andrew pulled back from Neil’s face. Andrew nodded and Neil pulled Andrew into a hug, burying his head in Andrew’s chest. Every part of them was touching and Neil didn’t feel any pain anymore.

“You. Are. Everything.” Neil whispered against Andrew. Andrew just tightened his arm around Neil and stroked his hair with a hand.

“You are too,” he murmured back.

The foxes walked back to their room in a daze, struck stupid by what they had just witnessed.

“I’ve never seen love like that before,” Kevin said quietly.

“No one is ever allowed to call Andrew monster again. We should have believed Neil when he said it wasn’t true,” Allison said.

“I’m just so happy for them yanno? They deserve it more than anyone in the world,” Nicky said emotionally.

Renee had a soft smile on her face, “Yes. They do.”

#the foxhole court #aftg #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #andriel #all for the game #tfc #andrew x neil #neil x andrew

198 notes · View notes

sharperthewriter · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 2 of Proposal From the Inside

Chapter 2 – Getting There

(December 13, 2008, Lipsky Apartment, 7:05pm) Drew and Sheila were sitting outside the apartment building. The both of them had put on their coats to protect them from the bitter cold outside.

"You think that Francis would be here by now!" he muttered under the stairs, trying to generate some warmth on his gloves.

Sheila scoffed, shrugging her shoulders "Probably he has to get gas for his car."

"Yeah, he did call five minutes earlier telling me he was going to be a little late but he shouldn't be this late!" Drew complained, "There's a gas station not more than three-quarters of a mile down from the apartment complex!"

“Unless he went in to buy some snacks, but we're going to a fancy steakhouse, so it would be stupid of him and Adrena to spoil their appetites'.” Sheila said, holding her coat tightly against the cold.

A pair of headlights came towards them in the parking lot.

“Is it them?” Sheila asked.

Drew looked at the vehicle and saw it was a blue minivan.

“No, it's not them.” Drew replied. “He drives a green SUV. You will know when it's him and Adrena.”

A couple of minutes later, another pair of headlights came into the lot and it was an SUV.

“It surely must be them this time!” Sheila insisted.

Drew looked at the SUV closer and it was teal.

“Blast! I thought it looked greenish at first!” Drew whined.

“Do you think we should postpone it?” Sheila asked her boyfriend.

“No, I'm pretty sure Lurman will be here.” Drew replied with confidence, “Believe me, he would usually honk his horn if he sees me.”

“Oh right...” Sheila agreed, “...the one with the very loud horn.”

A third vehicle then came into the lot and, indeed as Drew predicted, honked its horn. It was a green SUV.

“That must be him!” Sheila exclaimed.

“Heya!! Drew!!!” Francis grinned, honking his horn repeatedly and loudly.

“Finally....” Drew muttered, . He went up to the vehicle.

“Heya, Drew!” Adrena exclaimed from the passenger seat. She was in a long maroon-red dress that had a slit at the right leg that came midway up to her thigh with high heeled brown boots. Giant hoop earrings and two bracelets completed the look for her. “Traffic was FREAAAKY!!”

“Do you like my new and improved horn?” Francis asked, honking it twice and very loudly.

“Lurman...you do know that this apartment complex has a noise ordinance!” Drew replied. “I don't wanna see the apartment manager file a complaint against you and force you to leave.” “Are you kidding, Drew?” Francis laughed, “I was rommies with him at Upperton U!” “Yes, you told me that several times, Lurman.” Drew replied, “But people can change over the next 15 to 20 years.”

Sheila came up to Adrena and asked. “So which steakhouse are we going to?” Adrena grinned, “We're going to the freeeeeeakiest steakhouse ever! It's the Porter House in the Downtown area.” “I heard of that place before...” Sheila said, leaning on the SUV window. “Got a lot of 5-star review from it.” “And it was highly recommended by the Colorado Association of Steakhouses led by Jackie Oaks!” Francis added.

“Sounds very tasty to me!” Drew grinned.

Sheila heard her stomach rumble.

“Speaking of which...”

“Yeah, we should really get going!” Francis insisted, “The place can get rather packed.”

“I'd rather wait for only 15 minutes for a seat instead of that FREAAAKY 2 hour wait the last time we were on a double date!” Adrena said.

Drew and Sheila got in the back seat of the SUV and buckled up.

“Now, let's get to the steakhouse!” Francis insisted as he drove the SUV out of the apartment complex.

#kim possible #fanfiction #drakken #shego #drakken x shego #drakgo #frugal lucre #adrena lynn #624 words

2 notes · View notes

eclecticstarlightconnoisseur · 4 years ago

Text

EDINBURGH TO BOSTON -CHAPTER 20 - PERMANENCE

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 20

Permanence

Hello all, Here is chapter 20 of Edinburgh to Boston. There are several things that you need to know when you read this. It begins directly after the King’s Gambit. In fact it is the same day. We pick up after Jamie teased Claire in bed. The chapter encompasses several days. It starts on a Tuesday and ends on Sunday night before they return to work on Monday morning. There is some concern that readers could get lost because of the changing days, so I just labeled each section with the day of the week for convenience.

I want to thank scubalass as always for her work as the beta, which is not an easy task. I can be pigheaded at times.

I give you Edinburgh to Boston, Chapter 20, Permanence. For better or worse, here goes nothing.

Tuesday afternoon:

“Come here mo chridhe, ” he beamed holding open his arms to her.

Claire eyed him suspiciously, “What are you planning to do?”

“I want tae kiss ye, ” he chuckled.

“Oh no, you don't. You're not going to get me all riled up again and not finish the job. I'm no fool you know.”

“Never thought ye were. I just thought we could start at the beginning and see where it takes us,” he proposed as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Sound like a plan?”

Claire launched herself into his arms, ”Aye, that sounds wonderful.”

They were entwined in each other’s arms luxuriating in the closeness. He stroked her with a practiced hand. Caressing her. Adoring her. Whispering words of love in her ear. They kissed and ignited an inferno. They burned bright and hot becoming blazing twin suns. He moved over her covering her body, He wanted to possess her body and soul.

“Ye are mine, Sassenach. Now and forever. Body and soul. Whether ye will it or no’. Mine.”

“Yours,” she whimpered.

And loved her tenderly, then furiously until they were sated and sleepy.

Claire yawned contentedly, “I never knew playing chess could make you so tired.”

Jamie chuckled, “‘Tis a verra rigorous game.” He pulled her against his chest wrapping his arms around her. They closed their eyes and fell into a blissful sleep.

The bedroom door opened without a sound. Claire crept into the room, careful to not wake a sleeping Jamie. He was still napping after their “chess game”. Quietly, she pulled the drapes closed muting the vibrant mid-afternoon sunlight so not to disturb his slumber.

She brought a cup of tea with her and placed it on the bedside table. After arranging pillows against the headboard to lean on, she eased herself onto the bed making herself comfortable sitting with one leg tucked under the other. Normally, she would drink her tea in the kitchen or sitting room, but today was Saturday. This was her last full day with Jamie before returning to her flat, and she didn’t want to miss a single second with him. She shook her head admitting that thought was utter rubbish. After all, she would be seeing him every day at the hospital. But she would be spending time with him as a professional colleague and not on the intimate level they shared this week.

Fragrant tendrils of steam rose around her as she inhaled the familiar bouquet. Oolong. She was pleased that Jamie liked it too. She sipped the tea savoring the taste. It was slightly sweet, fruity, with a honey aroma. What could be better than drinking your favorite tea in bed and watching your lover sleep? And she did love to watch him whether asleep or awake.

She turned to see him asleep on his back, arms crossed over his chest looking like one of the carved figures on the sarcophagi she had seen in Egypt with Lamb. His full lips were slightly parted as he breathed softly through his mouth.

Suddenly, he became restless, muttering something in Gàidhlig. A tender look crossed Claire’s face as she brushed away the curls that fell over his forehead.

“Shhh, I’m here,” she comforted.

Jamie calmed; a smile crossed his face for the briefest of moments, then vanished. His breathing evened and his face relaxed as he descended into a deeper slumber. Her forehead crinkled in fascination as she stroked his hair once more only to watch his smile reappear then disappear as it had before.

“I love you, Jamie Fraser,” she whispered. “I knew from the moment you were introduced during the staff meeting that you would carry my heart in your hands.”

The conference room had several areas that one could hide in and not be seen. Claire took her usual spot where she could work on her messages without being observed. Another useless weekly faculty meeting. The Chief droned on about creating the preeminent Cardiothoracic Service in the entire U. K. To this end he hired an up and coming surgeon to join the team. He would bring new energy to the stalled department. The Chief extolled the accomplishments, awards, and research activities of the new team member.

There had been many applicants for the position. Claire wondered who he had chosen. It certainly wasn’t the woman she had suggested.

“I would like to introduce you to Dr. James Fraser. Come up here dear boy.”

A giant of a man rose from his seat in the audience gracefully striding toward the podium.

The two men shook hands exchanging general pleasantries.

“On behalf of the department, I extend our warmest welcome and wish you much success,” droned the Chief. “I’m turning the microphone over to Dr. Fraser for a few words.”

The first thing Claire noticed was his voice. It was deep, smooth, luxurious, and warm. It flowed over her wrapping around her like a favorite blanket. She noticed a definite burr to it that vibrated with command.

She couldn't see from her vantage point causing her to shift her position a few chairs over.

Claire looked up and saw the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He was tall with fiery red hair and the deepest blue eyes. He was engaging, serious when it called for it, and charming. The audience was enthralled.

After he finished speaking Dr. Sandringham returned to the podium.

“You may have heard, the hospital has decided on a trial of pairing surgeons together as a measure to improve quality care in a cost effective manner. In our department two surgeons have been chosen to pilot this new program based on my recommendations. The two surgeons designated to lead this programme are Dr. Fraser and Dr. Beauchamp. Claire, where are you, my dear? Come and meet Dr. Fraser.”

Claire’s mouth hung open like a landed fish unable to believe what she heard. She had overheard the rumors about some trial programme partnering surgeons together. “Sandringham! Up to his old tricks,” she thought. “Well, he would not get away with this one. He thought he could stick the newbie on her, but she already was overworked. Why not have MacPherson do it? He sits all day watching the Scottish stock market while she’s busy operating, doing the consults, or running a clinic. Claire decided she wouldn’t let the Chief get away with it this time. She would tell him to bloody well find someone else to hold hands with Fraser, was it?” Closing her mouth she slowly stood. Her hands flew to her hair, trying to smooth it into place but knew it was useless to try.

She walked up to Fraser and immediately got lost in his blue eyes. Claire made a little gasping noise then extended her hand, “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. I guess you’re stuck with me.” She blushed crimson red. Something she hadn't done since her youth.

He took her hand in his massive ones tipping his head toward her, “James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser. At your service and I assure you the pleasure is all mine.”

At that moment, something passed between them. The attraction between them was magnetic. It pulled at them speaking of a time yet to come, of words yet unsaid, and of things yet to happen. The force drew them as if they were pieces of lodestone being pushed together. They gazed at each other wondering if the other felt it too.

Dr. Fraser reluctantly let go of her hand, gave her a lopsided smile, “I look forward to our first case together, Dr. Beauchamp.”

Claire never did have that conservation with Sandringham. It was the best thing she never did. She smiled at the recollection of their meeting and slid down to curl into his side. Her head came to rest on his chest while her leg found its way over his. She found contentment and peace lying next to Jamie. She felt at home. Home. Now that was a strange concept to her. She and Lamb lived life like a pair of gypsies, never having the opportunity to put down roots. She enjoyed her travels with Lamb. It was fun and fascinating like being on perpetual vacation. There was, however, something missing in her life. A place to call her own. A place where she could leave her imprint. Like owning that blue and white vase she had seen during her travels years ago. If she only had a home to display it in. It would say, ‘Claire lives here.’ The idealization of home represented a place where she could feel safe, secure, and happy. She had hoped that she could have made that a reality with Frank, but that was not to be.

Jamie grunted then turned to his side pulling Claire into the refuge of his arms.

Then it struck her. Safe, secure, and happy within his arms. Home did not have to be only a physical place or structure. It could be a person too. Smiling broadly, she realized that she could wander the face of the earth with Jamie for the rest of her life and still be home. He was her home now. She basked in the warmth of his embrace, knowing she truly had found her home at last.

Looking at her suitcase in the corner, Claire thought it probably a good idea to leave a few things here since she would stay here on occasion. She mentally reviewed its contents deciding on what she should keep here.

Her thoughts drifted toward her flat. It was “home” but the space seemed rather plain and utilitarian. Just a place for her to eat, keep her clothes, and sleep. She had little interest in decorating the place since she never had company. To be honest, she never wanted company or invited anyone over. Claire had been content living her solitary life with Ginger, but now everything has changed. Ought she spruce the place up? What about new drapes for more privacy? At least new bed linens, towels for the bathroom. Maybe a throw rug and a few pillows would be nice. She didn’t want Jamie to think she lived like some cloistered nun.

Claire froze. Perhaps she should reciprocate and make room for him if he wanted to leave some things there. Would he even want to come over to her place? She began to bite her lip with worry. God, this was all so new and she didn’t know how to handle it.

“Mo neighan donn, yer thinking so hard I can hear ye.”

Claire startled at his voice, “I’m sorry did I wake you?” She turned to face Jamie looking directly into his sapphire eyes.

“Nah, ye dinna wake me, but are ye alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine, just lost in thought.”

“About what, my own? ‘Tis it serious?”

“No, no, no. Just deciding on what to leave here. And reciprocating for you at my place. If you would want to stay that is,” she asked shyly.

“Is yer bed big enough? Ye ken I need a lot of room,” he smirked, giving her a lustful look.

“Was he asking if it was big enough to fit him or was he asked about something else, Claire wondered.”

“I do believe... I’m sure it’s... Fine. Yes,it’s fine. Um, what are we talking about?”

“Yer bed, Sassenach. I wanted to know if it’s big.” He pulled her into his embrace, pressing his hips against her belly.

Claire felt the length of his arousal. “I think it will be more than satisfactory.”

“I would be delighted to spend the night at yer place anytime yer willing to have me,” he smoldered at her.

“Good, very good,” she babbled into his lips.

“Aye, ‘tis good indeed.”

They snuggled together enjoying the quiet and the feel of each other.

Jamie leaned down to place a kiss on Claire’s brow. It was creased and furrowed. He felt her tense for a moment then relax.

“Claire.”

“Hm?”

“What else is on yer mind? Ye canna hide it, something else is bothering ye. It’s written all over yer face. Ye ken ye can tell me anything.” His finger traced a line over her cheek trying to soothe her.

Claire tipped her head forward and her hair slid across her face like a veil protecting her from his scrutiny, “You know what the rule of thumb is with sexual partners? You not only slept with your partner but with everyone they previously slept with.” Her eyes shied away unable to settle on him. Swallowing the lump in her throat she continued, “As you recall I went to Lamb’s after Frank raped me,” she stopped and took a deep breath to gather her strength again. “Lamb convinced me to go to the hospital. I told the examining doctor that I had evidence that Frank had multiple partners. So, I was tested for every conceivable STD, and by some miracle, everything turned up negative,” she exhaled. “I had them all repeated when I got back to Scotland after the divorce. Again, everything was negative. I just wanted you to know that I am clean. I should have told this sooner, Jamie. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

She searched his placid blue eyes hoping to find understanding.

The look of him described his mood, eyebrows pulled down together and his lips narrowed forming thin lines. The very picture of anger. Not because of what she told him. But because he hoped they left the ugliness of Frank behind them. But he should have realized that after her past and current trauma more revelations would arise over time. All he could do was be there for her to support her. And he would for as long as she needed him to.

He cleared his throat, “Since we are talking of such things, ye may as well know that I have been tested too. All negative. And I havenae been with anyone else since I have been tested.”

Jamie stopped and looked at Claire. She still had a troubled look about her.

“Do ye have something else ye want to tell me?”

She gave him a sidelong look, “I brought this up because we have not practiced safe sex.” She paused waiting to see if anything registered with him.

“Aye, ‘tis so and...”

“I have an IUD Jamie. I didn’t want to have children with Frank. Things became more and more unsettled between us and I didn’t want to bring a child into that relationship. My residency, my fellowship. It all seemed too much. So we don’t have to worry about birth control either.”

Jamie went a pale, ashy color. Christ, he didn’t think. He really didn’t think. He lusted after her just like a stag during the rut. No thought of the consequences for her. No, he only thought about himself and wanting her. He felt ashamed.

“Claire, I’m sorry. I dinna think. I just wanted ye so bad. And me a doctor. I should have…”

Claire raised a finger to his lips to silence him. “It’s alright. And I wanted you too. I don’t know if I could have stopped myself either Truthfully, we both share the blame. We should have spoken about this beforehand. I should have told you sooner about the IUD.”

She quieted allowing a few moments to pass before speaking again, “There is nothing to worry about. We’re both young and healthy. Except for your penchant for getting injured,” she quipped giving him a sly look.

“Then ‘tis a good thing I’m in love with a doctor so ye can tend my wounds,” he smirked giving her a crooked smile.

“Is that why you want me? So I can tend your wounds.”

“Nay Sassenach. I want ye because I love ye. Now enough talk, just let me hold ye,” as he pulled her closer to his chest.

******************

Time is an ethereal thing. It flies swiftly as if borne on the wings of Mercury. Try to grasp it and it will slide through your fingers like grains of sand. For lovers, time is but an enemy. Always pushing the present into the past making the now just a sweet memory.

Wednesday morning broke clear and sunny, but a dark cloud hovered over Jamie. Four more days. That’s all that he had left with his Sassenach. Four days. Then Claire would return to her own flat on Sunday. Time took on a sense of urgency for Jamie Fraser. He was sorry about what happened in Boston, but it worked out, in his point of view, for the best. Leaving Boston early gave him these four days with her all to himself. And he would not waste a single second of this precious time with his Claire.

Beauchamp had always been something of a recluse, never socializing with other staff members. He knew her habits and wants intimately in the operating room, but privately not very well. He knew how she liked her coffee, which scones were her favorite, and she ate whatever she liked without gaining an ounce. She liked to sleep on the left side of the bed. There were, however, a myriad of other things he did not know about her. If he wanted to take care of her, and he did, he would need to know more about her. Uncovering the mystery of Claire Beauchamp would become his life’s mission. He decided they would spend their remaining time together doing as new lovers do, learning the ways of each other.

Each day for their remaining time, the couple did everything together.

The mornings were spent together making breakfast. Claire would bake a batch of scones. Jamie would scramble the eggs while the requisite parritach bubbled and burped in its pot. They teased each other, stealing glances, and small touches as they worked together. It made for a thoroughly enjoyable way to start the day.

They spent their days talking about their lives, family, and adventures. Jamie told Claire tales of the highlands acting out parts of the story, making her laugh until her sides would ache and tears streamed down her face. Hearing that Claire had never read The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings Jamie took it upon himself to rectify this breach in her knowledge of fine literature. He would read to her, complete with the required sound effects and character voices, as she laid on the settee with her head in his lap. Claire pronounced the book as their book. They watched the telly poking fun at each other's choice of programmes. And they played chess over, and over, and over again never managing to finish a single game.

That was the way of it until Saturday morning arrived…

Jamie rose before Claire deciding they would do something a little different today. It was something he wanted to do for her and he hoped it would please her.

Claire awoke to feel quite refreshed as she stretched luxuriously. The duvet slid from her body exposing her breasts to the chilled air of the room and her nipples instantly hardened. She chuckled to herself debating the value of leaving a nightgown and pyjamas here since she always ends up sleeping naked next to Jamie. Going to the en-suite, she quickly showered then brushed her teeth. Sneaking a peek at her hair, she sighed then wrestled it into submission. She put on one of Jamie’s old tee-shirts (which she knew she would take home with her) and padded out into the kitchen. Jamie was not there and breakfast had not been prepared.

“Jamie?”

“In here, Sassenach.”

Claire followed the sound of his voice finding him sitting on the settee fully dressed in jeans, jumper, and boots. His jacket, scarf, and cap were draped over a chair waiting for him.

“Are you going somewhere,” she inquired.

“We,” he emphasized, “are going somewhere. We have been in this flat since we arrived back in Edinburgh on Monday and I thought it would be nice tae take a walk. Besides that, I have some things that I need tae attend tae. I made ye yer coffee. Drink it as ye get dressed, aye?”

She grabbed her coffee and took a drink of the dark rich brew as she hurried off to get dressed all while wondering what Jamie had on his mind. She dressed quickly pulling on her skinny jeans, a jumper, and her boots. Claire did not remember packing these jeans but happy that she did. She turned to look in the mirror observing her bum and she liked what she saw. She smiled smugly and knew Jamie would like it too. She stuffed her hair up into her hat, wrapped a scarf around her neck, then grabbed her coat.

After depositing her cup in the sink, Claire found Jamie standing at the door with his coat on. She twirled for him, “Do I look alright for our day out?”

He looked at her, admiring how her jeans fit over that magnificent arse wondering if going out was truly a good idea or not.

Jamie swallowed hard, “Aye, ye look verra bonnie.” He held open the door bowing to Claire,” Come along Sassenach the day awaits us,” he urged her out the door before he changed his mind.

For a winter day in Edinburgh, it seemed rather warm. Still, the air had a deliciously crisp and refreshing feel. Jamie reached out, took hold of Claire’s hand, and knitted their fingers together.

Dr. Fraser was well known in the neighbourhood. People, shopkeepers called out to wish him good-day. Heads bent low chattering away like a clan of sparrows that the good doctor had a lady. Jamie smiled knowing full well what the gossips whispered in hushed tones. He grinned as he took his arm and wrapped it around Claire’s shoulder pulling her into his side as close as possible. Let’s give the old bletherskates something to talk about, he thought. And he bent, placing a kiss on Claire’s crown. Mine, he thought and he wanted the whole world to know it.

Claire looked up at him as she snuggled closer to his side.

They stopped in different shops along the street, picking and choosing things they liked. Jamie bought another book to also become their book. Chess had already become their game, but adding another wouldn’t hurt. Or two or three. Jamie smirked wondering how they could get creative with the new games. So the day went, they walked from shop to shop choosing things that they both liked destined to become theirs.

“Dr. Fraser! Dr. Beauchamp!” they heard a voice call out.

They turned in the direction of the voice. Jamie on seeing the man broke out into a broad smile.

“A charaid!” he returned the call. “Come, Claire,” he urged tugging at her hand.

A tall balding man of slim wiry build and merry blue eyes stood outside a florist shop waving excitedly at them.

Jamie and the man clasped each other’s hands engaging in a rapid handshake and back-slapping in the manner of old friends.

“Claire, ye remember Ewan MacDonald, do ye no’? We operated on his Da, Graeme, last year. ‘Twas a triple bypass if I recall correctly.”

“Why yes, I do recall. How are you Ewan and your father, how is he doing?” Claire inquired as she took hold of his hand.

“Ach, he’s braw Dr. Beauchamp, just braw, thanks tae ye and Dr. Fraser. Some days we need tae remind him that he’s 80. Always on the go. ‘Tis a sight tae behold,” he grinned. “Where are me manners? Why do ye no come into me shop for a bit and warm-up?” Ewan offered.

“Tapadh leibh,” Jamie smiled. He placed his hand on the small of Claire’s back encouraging her to go forward.

It was like being magically transported from the chill of winter to the warmth and beauty of summer. The shop was perfumed with the scent of fresh-cut flowers, flowers growing in pots, small and large potted foliage plants, dish gardens, and terrariums. An assortment of plain clay pots as well as hand-painted terra cotta planters were scattered around the workbench. In an out of the way corner of the shop exquisite vases could be found for sale.

Claire spied a young woman caring for seedlings sprouting under grow-lights. “If you gentlemen would not mind, I would like to look around,” she said happily.

“Of course, Dr. Beauchamp. Enjoy yerself,” replied Ewan.

Jamie called to her as she turned to walk away, “Claire, I dinna ken what yer favorite flower is. Could ye tell me?”

“Well, I love all flowers. But, you will think me silly if I told you what my favorite flower is.”

“Yer no’ a silly woman, Beauchamp. Tell me.”

“It’s forget-me-nots.”

“Forget-me-nots? No’ a rose or an orchid or something like that?” Jamie looked puzzled.

“No, forget-me-nots. I planted them on my parents and Uncle Lamb’s graves. The flowers mean remembrance when people are parted or after death,” her face and voice becoming solemn. After a moment, Claire added, “But, they also represent a growing affection between two people, as well as true and undying love.” She looked into his eyes, as blue as the forget-me-nots she spoke of. “So, my favorite flower is the forget-me-not, ” Claire smiled and turned away to join the woman working with the seedlings.

Silent communication crossed between the two men. Jamie raised his eyebrows in question while Ewan vehemently shook his head no. Jamie glared at him, his lips becoming thin. He would not take no for an answer.

“‘Tis winter,” Ewan hissed.

“Aye, ‘tis winter for sure,” Jamie confirmed.

“I dinna ken where I can find any!”

Both men turned their gaze toward her. Claire glowed with happiness. As she spoke, her graceful hands fluttered animatedly as she described something to the woman.

Ewan turned to look at Jamie and saw his love for her written all over his face as he watched her.

“Ye love her!” Ewan exclaimed in a soft low voice.

“Does it show much?”

“That it does, mo charaid, that it does,” he chuckled while shaking his head. “And the ladies of the neighbourhood thought ye to be a lifelong bachelor,” he snorted. Ewan sighed heavily, rolled his eyes toward heaven then shook his head yes. “Fer ye and Dr. Beauchamp, aye, I’ll make it happen. I ken a man, a horticulturist by the name of John Bartram, who may have what ye want.” Ewan paused, “He’ll have tae overnight them. It can be pricey, ye ken?”

Jamie nodded in agreement and clapped the man on the shoulder, “For Monday morning, aye? ‘Tis our first day back tae work and I’d like tae have a wee posy tae leave on her desk. ”

“Aye Dr. Fraser. Monday ‘tis.”

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp was a woman of science and did not believe in luck, chance, or coincidence. If such things existed, they didn’t apply to her. It was odd that only this morning she thought of the blue and white Chinese vase she wanted to buy all those years ago. How was it that by some strange twist of fate its twin is sitting on the upper shelf of a florist shop in Edinburgh? She gravitated over to where the vases were for a closer look. Could some serendipitous force have led her and Jamie to this shop today? Perhaps today if luck did exist it would favour her after all. Maybe this was a second chance to have it and this time it would not slip through her fingers.

Jamie saw Claire looking at the vase covetously. He drew Ewan’s attention to the vase pointing at it with his chin. Whispering to him, “Put it in a bag for me will ye?”

“Aye, Dr. Fraser.”

“Claire,” Jamie called to her. “‘Tis time for lunch. My wame is empty.”

“I’d like to speak to Ewan before we go, alright?”

“Ewan, that blue and white vase you have on the second shelf I’d like to buy it.”

“Oh, Dr. Beauchamp, I am sae sorry. It should not be there. Someone else purchased it. I just forgot tae take it down. In fact, the person is coming today tae pick it up,” Ewan said as he reached to take it down. “Siusan, would ye be sae kind as tae wrap this up.”

A look of pained disappointment slipped across Claire’s features at the news.

“I dinna ken ye sold this vase, Ewan.”

Ewan scowled at his shop girl. “I just did tae Dr. Fraser. ‘Tis a gift,” he whispered as he tipped his head toward Claire.

Siusan turned to look at the couple then smiled, “Ach, aye,” she whispered back. “I’ll tend tae this immediately.”

“I shall keep an eye out for another one like it, Dr. Beauchamp. If I find one, I’ll let ye know,” Ewan took her hand and gave her a gentlemanly bow pressing a kiss to her hand.

He smirked as he heard Jamie growl with annoyance.

“Ye ready, Claire?” Jamie questioned as he grabbed hold of their packages.

“Yes, quite ready. I did so enjoy visiting your lovely shop. I do hope to see you again soon. Please give my regards to your father.”

After shaking Ewan’s hand, Jamie took hold of Claire’s hand guiding her toward his favorite cafe for lunch.

After seating, Jamie ordered a soup, sandwich, and chips. Claire opted for the soup and a salad.

Claire was uncharacteristically quiet during lunch. She left her soup untouched and glumly pushed and poked at the greens on the plate.

Jamie gently raised her chin up trying to read her face without much success. “Sassenach, can ye tell me what’s on your mind?”

Claire gave him a sad little smile. “I’m not upset, truly, it’s...well, more reminiscing about something that happened a long time ago,” she replied as her hand reached to snatch a chip from his plate.

“I’d like to hear about it,” he encouraged.

She munched on Jamie’s chips one after another as she contemplated the telling of her story.

Jamie frowned as he watched his chips disappear little by little into Claire’s waiting mouth. He signaled the server, pointed to his plate of missing chips ordering two more.

“It happened when Lamb and I were in China for one of his excavations. I had gone to the market to buy supplies when I spotted this beautiful blue and white vase in a little store. Every day I would stop to admire it. I really wanted it, but I didn’t have a place to keep it,’ she said while snatching away another chip. “It didn’t seem practical to carry it around the world with me so I settled for admiring it in the window. One day I went back to look at it and it was gone. The shopkeeper told me someone bought it. When I saw the one in Ewan’s shop, it looked so much like the one in China. I thought I had a second chance to buy the vase, but I guess it wasn’t meant for me to have,” she said dejectedly.

Jamie leaned over and rummaged in the bags. “Do ye mean this one?” He placed the blue and white vase on the table in front of Claire. “I meant to give this to ye after dinner, but ye look so sad now, I couldna wait.”

Claire gasped in shock as she took in the vase sitting on the table in front of her. It took several serviettes to remove the chip grease from her fingers. With a shaking hand, she reached out and stroked the vase proving to herself that it was indeed real.

Claire looked from the vase to Jamie then back to the vase. “You bought this for me?” her voice filled with emotion.

“Aye, I saw how much ye wanted it so I bought it for ye.”

She got up and launched herself at Jamie taking his mouth in a fierce kiss. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.” Two fat tears broke free and rolled down her cheek.

He cradled her face in his large warm hands and used his thumbs to gently erase each tear away.

“Sassenach, dinna cry. ‘Tis only a vase.”

Her face sprang up abruptly. “Only a vase, only a vase! You couldn’t be more wrong, Fraser. It’s not just a vase, it’s-it’s-it’s just everything,” she stuttered.

It didn’t matter to Jamie that they were in a cafe, he pulled Claire closer to his chest, offering her the comfort of his body. His hand ran across her face as he whispered into her hair, “Claire, why don’t ye tell me all about it then.”

For Chrissakes, Beauchamp, you’re in a public place. What do you think you’re doing making a spectacle of yourself? Claire moved to get up and return to her seat, but Jamie held her fast.

“No. Stay where you are. I dinna care who sees us and neither should ye. Now, if ye dinna mind I’d like to hear ye story.”

She nodded her head, then wrapped her arms around his neck wondering how to explain this to him.

“I envy you, Jamie,” she began. “You had everything that I have ever wanted. Parents who loved you. Siblings who loved you, played with you, even fought with you. Friends, school mates. A regular school you went to every day. Sporting activities. Even your damn chess club,” she glared at him. “And, of course, there was Lallybroch. Every day you went to your home, to your room where you could study, daydream, and sleep in your bed.”

“Among other things,” he mumbled.

“Beg your pardon. I didn’t hear that.”

“‘Tis nothing,” he blushed, “Please continue.”

“When I saw the vase, I thought it signified home, my home,” she emphasized. It meant I lived there. It would be a place I would go to every day. To me, that vase represented everything I had ever wanted, had hoped for. The vase meant safety, security, permanence, stability.” She searched his face to see if he understood what she meant and she saw the dawning of understanding. “Mind, I don’t regret my childhood at all. It was magical, a wonderful opportunity most children will never have. And I loved Lamb, so very much. But, sometimes I just wanted…”

“Tae be like every other bairn, aye?”

“Yes. Normal. Not always on the move.”

“I see.” He paused, letting what she said sink in. “Do ye ken, Claire this is what I had in mind today. I wanted ye tae have things at the flat that would make ye comfortable, so ye would ken ye belonged there. No’ a guest. I wanted ye tae ken ye belonged there just as much as I do. That ‘tis your home if ye want. Anytime ye want, whenever ye want. I was worried that ye might think this too fast or too soon tae be talking like this, but maybe no’.” He looked at her with a look of sincerity causing her to become overwhelmed by his statement.

Claire leaned forward resting her forehead against his. “Thank you,” she whispered to him.

“For what, a leannan ? I just want ye tae be happy and I want tae be the one tae make ye happy.” He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her fingers.

Her lips parted as though to say something. She changed her mind and bent forward giving him a passionate kiss. Jamie wrapped his arms around her waist pulling Claire in to deepen the kiss.

The sound of dishes and cutlery crashing to the floor caught their attention ending the kiss. All eyes were centered on them. Customers gaped with eyes bulging, and mouths agape. The young waitress, with a serious crush on Jamie, had dropped the plates she was about to serve. Claire’s cheeks flushed pink from the heat of the kiss.

“I think we have worn out our welcome.”

“From the looks of things, I’d say yer right,” he agreed.

Claire stood, her chin held high as she brushed away imaginary wrinkles from her jumper. She put on her scarf and coat while Jamie did the same. He left money on the table with a rather sizable tip and gathered up their belongings. The shaken waitress came toward the table as Claire grabbed another crisp.

“Best crisps in all of Edinburgh,” she declared. And they walked with dignity out the door.

He grabbed her hand, each looking at the other as they strode off cackling like two loons.

*********************

The weather changed during the day as the sun disappeared behind a mass of gray clouds. A cold, piercing wind blew biting cheeks and noses turning them cherry red. By the time they arrived back at Jamie’s flat in late evening, they were cold and hungry. Completing all the errands had taken a considerable amount of time. They warmed their fingers and toes in front of the fire Jamie started in the fireplace. They spread their purchases out on the floor while they discussed the proper place for each item.

“I’ll leave ye to it mo chridhe, while I heat up dinner for us,” Jamie said as he walked into the kitchen.

Claire nodded in agreement as she set about her task. She picked up the last bag and brought it with her to the sofa. It contained the vase. Carefully, she took the vase out and unwrapped it. She turned it around admiring it. It did look like the one that got away. Claire studied the room and finally came to a decision. A credenza, that Jamie used as a bar, stood off to the side displaying glassware on the left and the right. But the center was empty as if waiting for something special to claim the space. Carefully, she placed the vase centering it between the stemware. Stepping back Claire gave it a critical look. She broke out into a broad smile pleased with her decision.

Such a simple ordinary thing, a vase. To Claire, this homey object had been the symbol of the home she longed for and it needed to be shared. Shared with the man who held her heart and had become her home.

“Now it feels like home,” she murmured.

Jamie entered the room silently walking quickly toward Claire. He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her against him, placing a tender kiss to her temple.

“What are ye about, mo nighean donn? Are ye no’ taking yer vase home with ye?”

Claire turned in his arms resting her cheek against his chest listening to the strong steady thrum of his heart. She stood on tiptoe gently kissing his lips murmuring, “It is home here with you.”

***********************************

It was Sunday already. Heaving a heavy sigh, Claire wondered how time had disappeared so quickly. She felt the spectre of loneliness try to creep back grabbing at her heart and soul with its icy fingers trying to reclaim them. This time she would not allow it. There was love in her life now. Jamie had turned her life around. He filled her life with love, laughter, and tenderness. He banished her pain and emptiness and she felt alive again. Loneliness would never have a chance to possess her again. And the once ever-present shadow vanished like the early mountain mist with the coming of the bright morning sunlight.

Claire stood staring into Jamie’s closet. She had taken up his offer to leave a few of her things there. She left her favorite little black dress, a pair of heels, some work-appropriate skirts and blouses, and a new lab coat. Her hand ran over his clothes and began to conjure an image of him dressed in them. Inhaling deeply she smelled his garments. Masculine. Pure unadulterated Jamie untainted by anything else. There was no other way to describe it. The scent would comfort her during the nights away from him. Besides, she stole his tee-shirt. The one she would wear to bed and imagine his arms wrapped around her while she slept.

Then there was the bed. The bed they had made love in, discovered each other in. Closing her eyes, Claire remembered what they had done throughout the week. The touches, lips grazing, moans of fulfillment. Last night and this morning were different. Their love-making became more desperate. An attempt to fend off the impending separation. Never had she felt such love, joy, and sadness. It would have to last, to be enough until they could be together again.

“Are ye ready Claire?” Jamie called from the sitting room.

“Yes, I’m coming.”

He drove her home and carried her bags up to her flat.

“I can take it from here,” Claire said in a hushed voice.

They stood there for what may have been a second or an hour. Neither wanting to be the one to say goodbye.

Jamie placed his hands on her hips pulling Claire against him, his head resting on top of hers. The warmth of his body calmed her and she relaxed into him.

“Jamie, I don’t…,” Claire sniffled.

“Hush, mo ghràdh, I’ll see ye tomorrow. Naught more than twelve hours,” he soothed.

“Do ye need me to pick up yer wee beast for ye?” he asked.

“No, the Bugs will be over with her in about an hour.”

“Then I guess I should be on my way and let ye get settled in. It will be a long day tomorrow for both of us.

“I guess so,” she mumbled as she looked up at him.

Wordlessly, Jamie brought his lips down to hers, kissing her tenderly.

“Sleep well, m'eudail. I love ye.”

Jamie hesitated then turned and left looking as if he had just lost his best friend.

Claire stood rooted to the spot watching him as he walked away wanting him to stay here with her.

I didn’t tell him I loved him back. Panic ensued. She raced outside just in time to see Jamie drive away.

Dismayed, she trudged back into her flat. Fuck! She swore, annoyed that she didn’t tell him and that she missed him before he drove off. I’ll call him. No, I’ll text him. Better yet, I’ll do both as soon as he gets home.

Claire took hold of her luggage and wheeled it into her bedroom. She hoisted it up on her bed, opened the case, and started to remove her things. There was a rap at the door along with the doorbell ringing.

“Hallo?”

“Claire, ma dearie, we brought yer lass home,” answered Murdina Bug.

Claire opened the door and Ginger bolted into the room almost knocking Claire over in the process. The dog spun around in excited circles, yipping a greeting to her mama. Claire squatted down to the dog’s level stroking her soft fur.

“How’s my girl then?” she laughed. The dog rolled over demanding belly rubs which were promptly given.

Oh, here is the soup, I promised ye. I dinna think ye would have the time to make dinner.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Bug you didn’t have to do this.” The soup was still warm and had a wonderfully rich aroma making Claire’s mouth water.

“‘Twas naught. Arch and I needta be leaving ye,” she said as she thrust the container of soup in Claire’s hands. “We’re on a date,” she beamed as she looked up at her husband. “The lass has been fed and had a good walk so there is naught for ye tae do. Ye’ll bring her before ye go tae work? She’s a good helper with those rascals. Keeps them in line, ye ken?”

“Yes, you’ve told me what a great help she is to you. We’ll be there in the morning. Enjoy your evening.”

Ginger sat at attention, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. She nosed Claire’s hand looking for a scratch behind the ear. She sneezed. There was something wrong with her mama’s smell. It was different. Ginger licked her mama’s hand. That was fine, she tastes normal. A cold wet nose sniffed at Claire, her ear, hands, arms, eventually finding its way to her legs. The smell was strongest here. The dog inhaled deeply and let out a powerful sneeze.

“My sweet girl, are you sick?” Claire began to fret. She ran her hands over the dog checking her as best as she could. Her eyes were clear, nose cold and wet, nothing dripping from it. Her breathing did not seem labored. Claire dismissed the sneezing to a dusty room.

“We must clean up. It won’t do to have you sneezing. But first things, first,” she winked at the dog.

Claire reached for her purse taking out her cell. Quickly she sent off her text to Jamie. Before she had a chance to call him, her phone rang. It was Jamie. She smiled answering his call.

Ginger was perplexed by the change in her mama. She raised her nose high in the air turning her head in different directions, sniffing. She followed her nose to the bedroom. The smell was stronger there. Whatever it was it seemed to be coming from her bed. Walking over to the bed, she stood on her hind legs so she could smell Claire’s open suitcase. It positively reeked! Ginger didn’t know what kind of animal her mama had been with while she was away, but she did not like it. Not one bit. The dog jumped up on the bed, took Claire’s clothes out the suitcase scattering them over the bed. She pawed at the clothing until she found what she was looking for. Found it, Ginger thought. The odor was strongest on a shirt and on some of her mama’s clothes. The small clothes that mama wore covering her between her legs. She used her nails to scratch at the shirt trying to tear it to pieces. When that didn’t work she chewed it. The shirt was a soggy mess lying limp like an old rag doll by the time she was done. For good measure, she rolled over the clothing wanting to eradicate the scent. Mine, the dog thought. This is my mama and I will not share. After she removed the odor from the intruder, and thoroughly covered the garments with her fur, she left the bedroom.

She settled in her bed knowing that she would get a scolding for what she did. Ginger didn’t care. After all, she was protecting her mama and that was her job. She knew her mama would not see it that way.

The dog watched Claire walk into the bedroom. Wait for it, wait for it.

“GINGER! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!,” came the bellow.

Claire charged into the sitting room waving Jamie’s sodden shirt. It was covered in dog hair as well.

“What have you done young lady? Hmm? I was going to sleep in this tonight. And all my other clothes need a good washing too,” Claire frowned holding up her fur covered panties.

The dog looked up at her with large soft chocolate brown eyes full of remorse. She covered her face with her paws as an act of contrition.

“Oh, all right. You did that because I was gone so long and you missed me,” Claire sighed. She patted the dog on the head in forgiveness. “Just don’t ever do that again. OK?”

She woofed happily, madly wagging her tail.

Two hours later saw the laundry completed. Claire sniffed Jamie’s shirt. The scent may not be as strong as before, but it definitely lingered. It seemed as if his smell permanently embedded itself in the fibers. Deciding to make it an early night Claire completed her nightly ritual, pulling on the tee-shirt marveling at its softness. As it skimmed over her body, it reminded her of Jamie’s loving caresses.

Jamie. She missed him already. Badly. Only eight more hours before I see him again, she consoled herself.

After plumping the pillows and pulling back the duvet, Claire snuggled in the bed. The room was dark with only the faintest light from the moon cast shadows along the floor.

Claire tossed and turned. Turning with such regularity the sheets twisted until it resembled a coiled snake. A car drove past. A siren's wail.The creaks and groans of the flat settling. All the noises of the night creating an unwanted symphony determined to keep her awake. At one point, Claire looked at the opposite side of the bed and imagined Jamie lying next to her. It was so real her hand reached out to touch him. But he was nothing more than illusion. It was no use. Sleep continued to elude her. The reason she knew was she missed Jamie.

Her phone began to vibrate. Claire wondered who would be calling at that late hour. Jamie’s name blazed across her phone.

“Hi.”

“I dinna wake ye, did I?”

“No. I was staring at the ceiling if you must know.”

“Aye, me too.” Jamie hesitated for a moment, “I canna sleep. I...I miss ye. The bed is empty without ye in it.”

Claire exhaled softly. “I miss you too. The bed seems too big, too lonely without you in it. What are we going to do?”

“Maybe, ye can, if ye dinna have plans, maybe ye can spend the weekend with me?”

She chuckled softly, “No. I don’t have any plans. It’s a date. I’ll make the arrangements for Ginger.”

“That’s great, Sassenach.” He hesitated not wanting to end the call, but knew he should, “Claire, ye need yer sleep. Ye have a big day ahead of ye. Try and get some sleep. I’ll see ye in the morning.”

“You’re right. Get some sleep too. You’ll need to be on your toes with the students trailing you about.”

“Aye, yer right,” he laughed. “They always have a lot of questions.”

“Jamie?”

“Aye?”

“I love you.”

“As I do ye. Good night Claire.” Jamie turned on his side, grasped Claire’s pillow,wrapping his arms around it pretending he was holding Claire. He buried his face inhaling her fragrance and promptly fell asleep.

Sighing, Claire turned on her side and buried her nose inside Jamie’s shirt, breathing in the subtle scent of him. Comforted, she fell asleep too.

*********************

STD - Sexually transmitted diseases

bletherskates - gossips, nosy-bodies.

Tapadh leibh, - Thank you. I used the formal expression because Ewan is older than Jamie.

a charaid - Friend

Siusan - no this is not misspelled. It is the Scottish spelling for Susan according to my references and it means lily.

a leannan; m'eudail. - darling

mo chridhe - my heart.

If there is any questions, suggestions, comments or gentle criticisms, please don’t hesitate to leave it. I love hearing from you. I hope you enjoyed this.

#edinburgh to boston #chapter 20 #permanence #outlander fanfiction #My writing #Here Goes Nothing #@scubalass

127 notes · View notes

winzenni · 5 years ago

Text

didn't mean to make you cry (lee donghyuck)

Summary: when your design project partner’s joking criticism unintentionally makes you cry, how will he fix it? after all, you’re his crush...

Genre: hurt/comfort?, fluff

Pairing: donghyuck x artist!reader, high school!au

Word count: 1.5k

When you were paired up with the outgoing, edgy, purple-haired boy in class for your design assignment, you thought your final grade was done for. The purple-haired class clown, Lee Donghyuck, who wears leather jackets and looks like he plays with fire in his free time, but actually has a kind heart and warm aura.

You thought Donghyuck would ditch you in the very beginning, dumping the entire assignment onto you and opting to hit up the local night market with his friends instead, but he had surprised you. Throughout the month, Donghyuck had stayed on task in classes and been very attentive to your vision and goals for the project. Together, you were assigned to create a design layout that would display students’ artwork and be printed in the school newspaper.

Though your peers in class all opted for a traditional newspaper design, with serif fonts and boxy modules, you wanted to break out of the norm and create a futuristic vibe, with circles and vivid motifs, to emanate a clean aura in your work. When you were paired with Donghyuck, you feared he would shut down your creative vision, but instead, he had been extremely supportive and helpful in the project, even offering insight to improve the layout and refine the modern look of the pages.

For fun, you had put some close-up photos of your old sketches and drawings in the background. You thought Donghyuck would have called you self-centered for putting your own personal works on the page, but he had proven you wrong by complimenting the design afterwards. Together, your smooth black pen lines and colored pencil textures created a personal, diary-like feeling to the design, while the minimalistic modules and white space kept the clean modern vibes.

His willingness to cooperate and kindness to you and your ideas had truly shocked you, and erased the bad boy/lazy rebel image you had thought of him. He seemed like someone you wanted to get closer with, maybe.

“Donghyuck and Y/N, time for your evaluation.” the teacher called you two up.

“Hm, this corner of the page is a little crowded. It’s hard on the eyes,” Ms. Kang says.

“It’s because y/n drew the picture there,” says Donghyuck. “It’s ugly, right?” He says it in a joking manner, and you know he doesn’t mean it like that, but the words stir up some insecurities you’ve suppressed for a long time.

Ms. Kang laughs along with him. “Donghyuck, don’t be mean. Her drawing looks fine…”

You know he was joking when he had called your drawing ugly, but you couldn’t help but think that maybe he truly meant it. People were always like that to you.

In elementary school, your parents had loved your art. Your scribbly golden retrievers, your painted landscapes, they had praised each one and hung them up on the refrigerator, and you were so proud to have a talent that they were proud of.

In eighth grade, your hyper realistic self-portrait earned you a ticket to New York to have your art displayed at a museum’s exhibit highlighting children’s artworks. You began to think this talent could take off and become a career, but your parents disagreed.

“Art doesn’t make money, y/n. Do you want to starve when you grow up?”

As you grew older, your art got better but your parents’ support decreased. Though you could draw a golden retriever 100 times better than before, your parents weren’t praising you.

“It’s ok, y/n. It looks kind of ugly.”

“That’s supposed to be you? It’s ugly-”

“Why did you draw me so ugly-”

Ugly was such a short word. But why did it hurt so much? Whenever you saw your parents’ faces, you just thought about your ugly, meaningless passion: art.

The bell rang.

“Ah, I barely noticed the time. We’ll finish grading your design next class.” says Ms. Kang.

“Cool, thanks seonsaengnim,” Donghyuck responds. “Y/n, what did you think? She really liked the-”

You stand up, grabbing your bag and leaving for the cafeteria. You couldn’t hear Donghyuck’s words over your parents’ criticisms ringing in your head.

“Are you dumb? You’re NOT going to art school.” “No more art, y/n. It’s meaningless.” It had been a while since the word “ugly” had come up when talking about your art, your hobby, your talent, no -- your sole passion in life that gave you a purpose. You didn’t even notice your eyes watering up.

“Y/n, didn’t you hear me?” Donghyuck catches up beside you. “Ms. Kang said -- wait, are you crying?”

You’re taken aback, looking up to the face on your left. Concern flashes through his eyes as a sense of embarrassment pierces your chest. He thinks I cried because of a dumb joke he made, you think to yourself. He thinks I’m too sensitive and weak like that.

“Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, taking a u-turn to seek refuge in the bathroom.

At lunch, you plop your tray beside your friend Renjun, taking a seat.

“How was the project evaluation?” He asks.

“Renjun, you’re gonna laugh when I say this. I cried for no reason in front of Donghyuck,” you reveal.

“Why? What happened?” He asks worriedly.

You explain the purple-haired kid in your class, the design project, the thoughts that had rushed through your mind after Donghyuck had jokingly called your art ugly. Renjun, who you had first met in art class and hoped to become an art student himself, was one of few people who truly understood your insecurities about your future in art.

“He probably thinks I’m weird and too sensitive now,” you say.

“Maybe,” he says. Renjun was never one to lie, even if the truth hurt a little bit. “It’s okay though, you probably won’t see him ever again after this year.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, patting it comfortingly.

“You’re right,” you laugh, scooping up another spoonful of rice.

How can she be laughing so much after crying less than twenty minutes ago? Donghyuck asks himself from across the cafeteria. Did I do something wrong?

“Donghyuck, what’s on your mind?” pipes up Jeno. “What are you looking at?”

“Hm? Oh… Earlier in class, that girl over there cried after I said something but I’m not sure why.” Donghyuck answers.

Jeno raises his head to look over at the girl in question. “Oh! Y/n? She’s so nice though, how did you even make her cry?” “I don’t know! That’s what I want to know!” Donghyuck defends himself. “Who’s sitting next to her though? She was just crying last class, why is she laughing already?”

“Oh, that’s Renjun. Why don’t you just ask him? He seemed pretty chill in math class last year,” Jeno suggests.

When Donghyuck sees Renjun turn into the boys’ bathroom before class, he follows.

“Renjun!” he calls out.

Renjun turns around to see the owner of the unfamiliar voice.

“Why did y/n cry? Did I do something wrong?”

Tilting his head to process the sudden interrogation, Renjun notices Donghyuck’s bright purple hair and makes the connection.

“Oh, you’re Donghyuck,” he remarks.

“Please, Renjun, tell me if I did something wrong. I need to know.”

“Why do you care so much?” Renjun asks. “Don’t worry about it, she’s not mad at you.”

“No, please. Please tell me. I-” Donghyuck starts. How can he admit his crush on you to a stranger right now? He can’t miss his chance. “I-I like y/n. I need to know if I did something wrong. I want to fix it. Please, Renjun.”

Donghyuck had loved your drawings. He had loved your designs too. And loved you too. He loved how concentrated you focused when designing the layout, how your fingers gracefully pushed hair behind your ears when it fell in your face. He loved how your passion and dedication shined through in everything you did, whether it was your voice in a presentation, or the speed and concentration of your fingers on a keyboard. You were his crush, but also his role model. He couldn’t live with himself if he had made you cry.

Renjun explained your situation, your art, your parents, your self-doubt to Donghyuck. “Shoot your shot, Donghyuck. I think maybe y/n likes you too,” he said before pushing the door open and leaving quickly to hide his growing smile.

Alone in the bathroom, Donghyuck breathes a sigh of relief.

The next day in class, Donghyuck slides his backpack on the desk beside you, instead of his usual seat in the back.

You look up, unsure how to face him. Should you explain why you cried? Or pretend like it didn’t happen?

He slips a folded pink piece of paper onto your desk, nodding at you to open it.

You unfold the paper to see a doodle of a girl and boy, painting the sky together under some clouds. Amongst the clouds read “Your art is amazing. And you are too.” in a neat script. On the bottom of the paper: “Wanna come with me to the night market on Saturday?”

You look up at Donghyuck, searching his eyes to see if this is some pitiful joke or attempt to amend. Instead, you just see a glazed, lovestruck gaze in his eyes.

“I promise I won’t make you cry this time,” he says.

#haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #nct #nct fic #nct scenarios #haechan #lee donghyuck #nct dream #nct 127 #fluff #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #haechan fluff #donghyuck fluff

250 notes · View notes

themilky-way · 5 years ago

Text

kinship {loki odinson}

gif credit: go-fandom-imagines

pairing: loki odinson x female! reader

summary: loki never thought that he’d defend, let alone protect, a midgardian. but after seeing you, in your most vulnerable states, he made it his mission to look after you. loosely based on this song.

warnings: some hints of violence (nothing too graphic), blood, and like one bad word. also when the characters say “kid” to you, it’s nothing age wise it’s just something i feel they’d call you yk.

notes: i’m in my loki feels ya’ll know the drill i just miss this man. also ik some of u ladies don’t have long hair i’m sorry! i’m having a little trouble making the words fit and stuff so please give me tips on how to improve!

the first time it happened was when you were sleeping. he never meant to walk in on your frail body, curled up in a ball in the over sized armchair tony had installed in the common room. your feet were tucked in neatly beneath you, with one hand splayed out across your stomach while the other held a book, your thumb keeping it partially open. your head had lolled down so it could rest on the arm rest, and while at first it had been rather uncomfortable, you let your eyes naturally droop so they could rest.

it had been the middle of the night, roughly around two in the morning, when loki decided to walk around the tower. he did this every so often, finding some sort of comfort from the peace and quiet the darkness held, but he had never encountered anybody else. he walked down the hall and past every avenger’s room, until he reached the living room. originally, his plan was to stand at the wide glass window the room displayed and simply watch the city lights glitter in all sorts of patterns. after that, he would go to the terrace for a bit, just enough for the sun to come up and the sky to change to warmer colors. but he didn’t do that tonight. why? well, he didn’t really know the answer to that himself.

when he entered the room, he came across your sleeping form. he noticed the way in which you nestled your body further down the fur of the cushion and curled yourself into your body just a little more to stop goosebumps from forming. you were cold, your body heat not enough to cover the sharp temperatures that reached you. loki, taking note of this, took off his cardigan, and walked over to where you were sleeping. he straightened the delicate fabric before he laid the emerald green sweater over your frame. he tucked it in where he felt it might fall over with a random movement, careful to not dig his fingers in too deeply so it would hurt or startle you. next, he took the liberty to carefully retract the open book from your hand to place it on the coffee table, and then grabbed more of his cardigan so it covered your relaxed hand and tummy. he drew back a few steps, to examine his work. he felt it was mediocre, not as good as it might’ve been if steve or wanda had done it, but it was enough for you to rest.

loki was not a man who grasped the concept of emotional connections very well. he was someone who didn’t have a feel for intimacy, who despised physical touch, who didn’t know anything about feelings other than hatred or malice. but here he was, peering down at your frail body, in one of its most fragile states that could possibly exist, and felt something. he didn’t know what it was, and he knew he didn’t want to find out, but it would reach him. the feeling, along with the desire, to get to know you in more intricate ways.

he walked over to the couch a couple of feet to the right of where you were and took a seat, folding his left leg onto the soft, plush seat while the other one remained planted on the marbled floor. he had a view of the window, like he originally planned to study, but he found his attention drifting to another sight. he observed how quietly you breathed, the soft exhales that your nose released every few seconds. after a while, he noticed how your lips parted slightly and began to exhale with it instead. the soft breaths turned louder, and your snores were now evident to him. they weren’t loud, barely even there, and only lasted a minute or two before they returned to regular breathing.

he also noticed how the hair on top of your head was beginning to disperse from its neat place. the soft, baby hairs that adorned the sides of your forehead lost their place and decided to scavenge for another, and the more you adjusted your head, the more they ruffled. he also saw the way your body slightly trembled from the sudden gusts of wind the air conditioner would send, and how you finally embraced his clothing. it sent a thrill through loki, the thought, the image of you breathing in his scent that lingered on his sweater, how you seemed to like it and do it so mindlessly. it empowered him. and so he stayed there until dawn.

the next time loki encountered you in a similar state was two weeks later. tony had sent him to fetch you for a mission that was risky, and he had felt bad to include you since you had put in some vacation hours. loki, although he would never openly admit to anyone nor himself, had conducted some research on you since he first saw you. he knew you were stressed, deeply longing some time off to unwind and focus on yourself, and he seemed almost hesitant to follow through with stark’s request. nevertheless, he started his way up to your room, following the route to the elevator, and cutting some sharp corners to finally reach your corridor. as he was strolling down it, however, he caught the hints of different patternized beats and melodies coming from the end of it. he kept his ears perked in case he heard someone else, brows furrowed in confusion, but as he kept his pace and finally reached the outside of your door, he discovered the music was comingfrom you. he felt weird, intruding into your personal space like this, but in his defense, stark had sent him. just before he could reach up and properly knock, he noticed the door was slightly ajar. not sufficient enough for you to see him but enough for him to see you. he watched your body, a little too intently for his liking, flow to the rythmn of the upbeat song. your hands reaching up to run them through your hair while your hips swayed from side to side. your right foot would step out and then you’d bring your left one in, and then did the opposite.

all in all, it was an innocent dance, you were releasing tension that you were holding in for a while, and you were happy. loki saw that, in your face to be more exact. his eyes first reached your own, which were closed and nowhere near recognizing his broad figure in your doorway. he scanned your nose, how your nostrils would flare harder than usual whenever you released a longer breath. he compared it to when he first saw you sleeping in the common room, and he couldn’t decide which event he liked better. he finally reached your lips, and he had to physically fight his newfound urges and stop himself from busting in and connecting them to his own. they were delicate, soft, and slightly chapped. it was evident that you picked at the skin on your bottom one because he noticed a small red patch on one side of your bottom lip. he couldn’t look away, and he felt awful, thinking of you in such intimate ways while you were unbeknownst of his presence. but what made him almost completely lose his mind was the moment in which you tucked that very same lip, the red, almost raw, portion of it between your teeth. he let his eyes run over the action, and felt an all too familiar emotion grow in the pit of his stomach, one that he never imagined you’d be the one to elicit.

he’d had enough. he’d seen enough. without thinking twice on it, loki barged into your bedroom, steel door hitting the wall with a strong bang, and spoke with authority.

“stark needs you for a mission. he wants you onboard in ten.” you spun around to face him, a sharp gasp escaping your throat and shocked expression washing over your features. he had to mask his worry and regret of scaring you like this with indifference. he needed to do it like this. he couldn’t risk you turning too far and opening your oh so beautiful eyes only to find him creepily concentrating on you.

“loki, what the hell,” you breathed. “you fucking scared me!”

he tried to not let the way you had voiced that get to him. you were startled, frightened, and that mixed with the energy you were dancing with was sure to leave you gasping. but loki had seen you, twice now, in some of your purest forms. so the way you softly huffed his name, even for different reasons, made his mind run wild and his heart jump hurdles. he managed to keep his face stilled, though, and rolled his eyes and told you not to be such a wuss and to shut your music off. you walked over and turned the knob of your stereo down, complying. it took almost every cell in his body to keep from muttering out incoherent apologies, pulling you in close and stroking your ruffled hair. but he didn’t do that.

“yeah yeah. whatever. can you tell tony that i can’t go? i’m taking some days off and i-”

“he made it clear to me that you’re presence is crucial to the outcome of this mission,” he interrupted, his voice low. you rolled your eyes and started to frantically assemble your go bag, thanking loki for the message. he wanted to stay and watch you do this too, but all he did was let out a hum of acceptance and walk out your door. as he walked through the corridors and seemingly endless turns to leave your dormitory, he replayed everything he saw, and a small smile curved its way onto his own lips. and for the entirety of the next week that you were gone, he kept doing it.

you, with much reluctance, had hopped on the plane with steve, bucky, tony, and natasha. it was a hard mission, but you had been trained by one of the fiercest assassins that the world ever saw. so, alongside natasha, you fought almost effortlessly. but regardless of how effective you and your team performed, the enemy was also calculated. he managed to trick you into believing he was alone, that he was finishing this fight by himself. but when bucky was holding the sinister man down, he got hit with a strong blow to his shoulder. the metal of the bullet would have clashed against the metal of his own arm, but this bullet, according to the dying words of the man, was made especially for bucky. he was wounded, and tony flew to get him off the field as quickly as he could. natasha took hold of the man and held him down one last time, and as more of his soldiers appeared all around you, you and steve attacked them. you gave your everything, landing nasty blows in every direction. steve threw his shield to pin an adversary to the side of a car as he pinned you down on the ground, and you reached over to take it out of the man and shifted so you were able to see behind you. as soon as you did, you connected the blue and red colored metal to the face of another enemy. the last one. the team, from wherever they were standing, relaxed a little and looked around at all the casualties. tony and natasha had managed to take care of the leader, and steve looked over at you from his protective stance and grinned proudly. but his smile abruptly disappeared when he saw you fall back down. he noticed a small pool of blood collecting around your torso and rushed to your aid.

“tony, (y/n)’s wounded too! get the jet and get her inside. i’ll get bucky,” steve said hurriedly. tony landed shortly after and told friday to bring the jet down to your coordinates. steve looked down at you and let his hand caress the top of your head lightly before speaking again. “hang in there, kid, we’ll take care of you.”

you tried to make out his figure leave, and eventually run, to where bucky was lying to bring him aboard. you couldn’t really see him, though, because your vision was beginning to blur and your ears had started to ring. you attempted to keep your eyes open to see tony press a tech device to your wound and you winced, eyes squeezing shut tightly. all at once, you stopped hearing tony’s scrambled words, muscles around your face and body going completely numb. then, you succumbed into full darkness and so did everyone and everything around you.

the next time you opened your eyes, it was to a dimly lit operating room. your visual acuity quickly adjusted as your eyes kept bouncing around the different light bulbs, and then you turned your head to the right. you saw bucky peacefully sleeping, a patch adorning the top of his shoulder and an iv scaling up to the actual bag containing the medicine. you then raised your head a little to see that your clothes had been changed to some medical shorts and an oversized t-shirt. you knew then that it had been wanda who had helped, seeing as the band displayed on the shirt was her favorite. next, you turned to the left, and this time, you saw the back of a male figure. after careful study and concentration, you realized it was bruce.

“bruce?” you voice came out in a hoarse and cracked whisper. but it was loud enough for bruce to turn around and gleam at you.

“(y/n)! i see you’re awake, can i get you anything?” he took off his glasses and set them down next to some documents and walked over to you. you nodded weakly and shakily asked for some water, making an effort to get up from the bed but stopped after you felt a sharp pain take over the left side of your abdomen. you winced and let out a painful groan, and bruce instantly took a hold of your arm as his other hand reached around your back to steady you.

“careful, you’re hurt.”

“what happened, exactly?” you wondered, voice starting to come back to normal. by now, you were properly seated along the edge of the bed with your feet unsteadily planted on the ground. once bruce saw that you were stable enough to not fall, he allowed himself to pour water from a pitcher into a glass that had both been on your side table. you took the glass into your shaky hands and brought the rim up to your lips, relishing the hydration it brought to your dry mouth. you swigged it rather quickly, and bruce took it back and set it down before answering your question.

“well, you were on a mission, from what steve tells me. they brought you and bucky to me as soon as they could. you were stabbed, kiddo. i patched you up and took out your iv about an hour ago.”

your lips parted and let your jaw open a little in a surprised motion. you had a knife, at one point in your fight, plunged into you? you didn’t even feel anything. your head started to throb now that you were fully awake, and you could feel the pain more clearly.

“you’re strong, you know,” his voice brought you back to him. it was reassuring, gentle, just like you knew bruce was. “all of you guys are.”

you smiled at him and reached out to touch his hand, and squeezing it lightly. he pulled you into a hug, and you accepted it kindly, acknowledging the help and most importantly the presence of one of your best friends. when you pulled back, he saw you grimace as another shot of pain spread across your abdomen. he asked you if you desired to go to your room, and after you said yes, he was quick in his efforts to completely stand you up and off the bed. his hand was holding one of yours, and the other was on your back like before, but just as you were beginning to walk, another voice spoke.

“i can take you. if you allow me.”

your eyes diverted in the direction of the voice it came from, and you landed on a pair of sharp blue orbs. stopping dead in your tracks, you found your mouth becoming dry again. his eyes pierced into your own, and you couldn’t find any word combination that would possibly make sense. you looked at bruce, as did he, and you found yourself nodding. you turned back to see loki all stood up and heading over to where you were standing. since bruce was holding you from the right, loki let his hand slip around your waist on the other side, a few goosebumps forming around your body at the contact. the other hand, reached to take yours in his and held it strongly. you started walking again, at first slowly, but once you got the hang of your own legs again, it became much easier for the both of you.

the walk to your room was silent, but not awkward. he grip on your waist was sturdy, but gentle and whenever you let out huffs of pain, he would stop and allow you to rest for a while. eventually, you reached your door, and he let go of your hand to open it.

“may i?” loki inquired. you simply nodded again, and he led you in. when you saw the arrangement of pillows and blankets that awaited your arrival, it took you aback. you looked at him before asking, “did you do this?”

he stared at you for a few seconds, enough time for you to feel butterflies crawling around, and nodded.

during your entire stay at the tower, you couldn’t really deny the way you saw loki. it wasn’t anything deep, just a simple, growing attraction towards him. when you first arrived, loki was being detained after literally destroying the entire city, so his attitude towards you was hostile. but you found him handsome, despite his rude behavior, and his snappy comments and witty banter made the emotion within you much stronger. over time, you tried your best to be nice to him, to really get to know him unlike the majority of your team. no matter how many times loki shut you out of his life, you didn’t take it personal and continued to be your happy and cheery self when you saw him.

over time, loki stopped fighting to keep you out, and he switched from being rude to acting annoyed. you viewed this as a win and didn’t delve too much into far more personal problems to keep him from shutting you out again. despite you promptly sticking to this ideology, you couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t speak to you as often as he did these past few weeks. it was strange, but then again, it’s loki, you thought.

god, but now, he does this? watches you for who knows how long while you’re in the middle of a drug-induced trance? offers to take you to your room, which apparently he’s arranged to fit your commodity, and holds you so perfectly? it’s all too much for you, the way he makes you feel, but even though you try to push the thought away, it bombards once more.

one of your legs gives out, and you almost, almost fall to the ground. his free hand reached over to grab the other side of your hip to hold you, tightly squeezing the soft muscle that was there. he stilled, watching you intently to see if you were alright and looking for any signs of severe pain. you felt his gaze on you, but you didn’t look up, fully knowing that if you did, you’d give out again. instead, you looked down at your oversized clothes and focused on the design.

“let me get you to bed, so you can rest. can i do that?” his tone was caring, nursing even. his voice was silky, intoxicating your senses more than you liked. you wanted him to talk forever and listen to him rant about endless topics that were running through his mind. but right now your well being prevented you from doing that so you simply muttered, “please.”

he moved so he was behind you, his hands moving along the fabric of your clothes so they didn’t separate from your waist. he pushed you gently and guided you to your side of the bed, eventually letting his hands slide off gradually from your sides as you sat. you missed his touch as soon as it left. and he missed touching you.

as you scooted up so your head could lay on the soft, cushioned pillow, loki removed some other ones that he deemed unnecessary to your comfort. then, he grabbed the folded blanket he placed at the foot of the bed and unfolded it over you. immediately you nuzzled into it and took in the scent that it gave off, and you could’ve sworn that you recognized it. loki noticed it, and he let his mind wander to the night he took care of you sleeping, how you’d done the same exact thing to the smell of his cardigan. it sent him into a frenzy, stomach erupting into fluttering butterflies, hands turning clammy, and pinkish heat coloring his cheeks. how was it possible, he thought, that you made him feel like this. he didn’t notice how long he had observed you for, his eyes raking up your body and wishing nothing more than to embrace it once and for all. to feel the warmth of your hugs, and to ease your pain, even if it would be for a brief moment. his eyes continued traveling up towards you face, and when he finally reached your eyes, he found yours already looking at him.

“you can take a seat over there if you’d like?” you questioned him. you nudged with your head at a sofa that was behind him, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked back to look at it. he turned back around and asked, “you want me to stay?”

“yeah, i kinda do. you don’t have to obviously,” you stopped mid sentence as a new wave of pain rushed through, grimacing. as it passed, you continued, “but it’d be nice.”

of course he was going to stay. he knew he didn’t have to, but he wanted to. he wanted to take care of you, nurse you in every possible way he could so you could dance animatedly again. so you could fall asleep in the common room, reading your favorite novel and cuddle his sweater. and he wanted you. so without much hesitation this time, he offered you a warm, kind smile and made his way to the sofa and settled in. you, on the other hand, adjusted so your legs were folded but your back was still on the bed to avoid hurting yourself. it was an uncomfortable position, but you weren’t one to complain. you stayed there looking at the ceiling and counted the little glow in the dark stars that tony had glued for you. all the while you could feel a strong gaze look at you, but you were too afraid to say something or even look over. about ten minutes passed with utter silence, the sounds of breaths being exhaled exempt.

“you could’ve died.”

“we all could’ve.”

“yes, but you could’ve died.” he regretted enhancing the word as soon as he spoke it. had he said too much? gone too far? he saw you shift your focus from the stars to his face, confusion written all over it. he didn’t look away, though, as embarrassing as it was for him.

“i thought you didn’t like me,” you remarked. loki scoffed and rolled his eyes before returning them toward you. “this has nothing to do with liking you, human.”

you chuckled at this, the rumbling of your chest sending another low shot of pain. “then what does it have to do with?”

he turned away and focused on your tiny bookshelf in the corner of your dorm instead. “taking care of you,” he answered faintly. at this, you’re features relaxed. the smallest smile began to tug at your lips, eyes beginning to sparkle with some sort of affection towards the god.

“ah, so you like me.”

loki laughed lightly at your reply, but mostly to hide the nervousness his voice might convey if he spoke. he found it stunning; how you effortlessly made him feel worthy of kinship. another, shorter, ripple of silence took over, but you were the one to break it this time.

“can you take care of me?” the words hit him like a punch in the stomach, and almost instantly his mind started running wild once more. every phrase that appeared to be coherent was not anymore. he looked at you, thinking about how innocently you had voiced your words, how genuine you felt them.

“loki?”

“hm?” he pretended not to have heard you, pretended to be lost in some other thought that wasn’t you.

“can you stay here tonight?”

never in his life did loki imagine he’d be watching over an injured midgardian. he also never imagined for them to be you. “of course, i don’t mind,” he swiftly responded. he mentally scolded himself for answering so fast and at how needy he probably sounded. nevertheless, any thought of embarrassment disappeared from his mind when you wholeheartedly smiled at him. you thanked him, and let your eyes close naturally. your head had relaxed completely against the pillow and your arms were entangled in the fuzzy blanket. you spoke, for one last time that night, and groggily whimpered, “g’night, loki.”

for the third time, loki was studying yet another one of your most vulnerable forms. it left him at ease knowing that nothing could ever harm you as long as he was there. and he was starting to realize in much greater depth, that there was nothing in this broken world that he wouldn’t do for you. to make you happy; to keep you safe. when he finally replied, it was mainly for him to hear it only.

“g’night, (y/n).”

62 notes · View notes

aestheticdenki · 4 years ago

Text

Electric Shock- Denki Kaminari

You’ve had a secret crush on Denki from class 1-A for awhile now. The best time to confess of course is after he sneeze shocks you.

—————————————————

You watched silently as Shinsou read, only turning to look out the window when he had picked up another book. Due to an issue in class 1-B’s dorm, your class was forced to partner up and stay in the few extra rooms that 1-A had left. Thankfully, you got Shinsou, an easy going, quiet person that just so happens to be your best friend. Unfortunately, you also got partnered with your other friend, Monoma. While he could be quiet at times, he absolutely loved annoying class 1-A. Because he was staying with you, you had to keep an eye on him. Right now though, he was asleep, occasionally shuffling here and there and whimpering, dreaming perhaps. Out the window, you could see Midoryia practicing with the air, improving his technique. The warm glow of the evening light looked enticing, so you visited Izuku. “Hey, Midoryia!” He stopped and looked at you. From where you were standing, you could see a sheen of sticky sweat on his skin. “Hey, ______!” “Do you need something to practice on? I can draw up a clay figure.” Izuku nodded his head excitedly. Most people didn’t know you had a drawing quirk. When they found out, it was astonishing.

Your pad appeared from thin air and you started drawing a replica of Uraraka. When you were done, you tapped the dirt and watched as the mud and clay formed the delicate girl. “Uraraka?” He was so amazed by your drawing that he forgot that she was here to fight him. Suddenly, he started to float. He was hovering in midair when he realized that the clay figure had touched him right before he started to drift upwards. Looking down, he noticed that the clay figurine had her hands together, the same way the real girl used her quirk. “That’s SO COOL!” You let out a small chuckle. “She won’t disappear until you defeat her.” You yelled upwords, right before the figurine released her hands and the boy fell to the ground, now in a battle state of mind. The sun was inviting, as you had thought, it was warm and subtle. Not too hot and not too cold. Surprisingly, Midoryia defeated Uraraka quickly. You conjured up a different person, this one being Iida hoping that it’ll give you more time to work on some other people to draw. Thankfully, you can save drafts and you’ve sparred with some of your own creations so some people are already drawn. People like Bakugo, Todoroki, Shinsou, All Might, Shigaraki and Stain. Those last two are your little secret.

“Is that...me?” Getting startled, you accidentally drew a line through the face you were drawing. Iida stood at the door watching the clay figurine kick up dust. “Yes.” A few others came out to watch as well. “Whose work is this?” Todoroki inquired, wanting to know in case he wanted to do some extra sparring. “Why, it's the favorite quirk in UA and guess what? She’s in our class. Guess that sucks for you.” “Shut up, Monoma.” You sat the pad to the side and quickly grabbed his ear to sit by you. “That is my quirk by the way.” “Can you make anybody?” “As long as I know their faces and their quirks.” Finally, Midoryia defeated clay Iida. “Give me another one. A hard one.” Hmmm. All Might should work. The students gasped in awe at the very detailed All Might forming out of the clay that was used from Iida. “I am here!” Although the voice doesn’t sound exact, it was pretty spot on with a gravelly texture but what can you possibly do with clay and voices? Mineta slithered up beside you. “Who ya drawing now?” “Someone from class 1-A…” “Is it me?” You laughed. “No, I haven’t drawn you yet.” “Who else have you drawn?” A rosy tint appeared on your cheeks. Telling who, will show that you have been staring at some of them (ehem, the boys).

“Um, for the girls, Uraraka, Yaoyorozu,” The aforementioned squealed and wanted to fight against herself. “Tsuyu, Jirō, Mina, Hagakure. For the boys, Shinsou, Aoyama, Iida, obviously. Bakugou and Todoroki.” The girls felt honoured that you had drawn all of them. “The boys aren’t correctly detailed all the way through because um-“ The heat rose to your cheeks again. “It’s hard not to look creepy while staring at them.” Honestly, you forgot about Mineta until he spoke up. “You can look at me all you want…” he drooled a little. “Thanks, Neta!” You weren’t falling for his dumbass tricks. Nope. You were gonna ignore him. Iida and Kirishima also offered to let you study them to draw them in great detail. “____! Another one, please.” “Take a break, Midoryia.” Iida pressed on when he tried to talk back. You gladly brought a Yaoyorozu to life when the real one wanted to fight herself. A little while later, everyone was heading inside to cook and you were still drawing and building figurines for Izuku. A hand tapped your shoulder softly making you slightly jump. Your eyes travelled up the body from the feet to the face and the white and red hair. It was Todoroki. “Hey, u-um, if you want, you can study me too. I think you draw people exactly the way they fight and it’ll be a good learning experience for me if I can watch the way I fight.” You smiled and thanked him. He slightly, very slightly, tilted the ends of his lips up into a smile.

—————————————————————

You awoke to the screaming of Present Mic and your body slamming to the floor which made a considerably louder noise than the voice. Aizawa and Present Mic appeared at your door to ask if you were alright. “Yeah, just fell from the top bunk. Sorry.” “NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE, YO.” Stupid Monoma and his triple bunk bed idea. You’d rather sleep with Shinsou than deal with the chance of falling out in the middle of the night. The fall caused you to be slightly grumpy. You hate waking up. Sighing, you got dressed and then woke up Shinsou and Monoma. “Come on, we have practice today.” After making sure they were awake, you headed down to help with breakfast. Only a few were already dressed. Morning people you assume. “ おはよう, Iida, Yaoyorozu and Midoryia.” They all greeted you happily. It looks like breakfast was done. You decided to go check up on the boys since they weren’t out yet and it wouldn’t be long before the food is all gone. Somehow, you got partnered with boys and had the room on the boys side. What luck! And it seems that a few of them have forgotten already judging by Kirishima and Sero walking out shirtless. “Good morning, guys.” “Good morning,” they droned out.

It got worse when you ran into a shirtless Kaminari. “Does no one wear shirts in the morning?” “Sorry, ______-chan!” He helped you up and you thanked him. You were going to punch the next person who was shirtless, and you didn’t care who it was. You opened your door to find, surprise, surprise, Monoma shirtless. But thankfully, he was putting a shirt on. Shinsou, on the other hand, was already dressed. “Get up, let’s go. Food.” “I’m not hungry.” Seriously? “I am, so let’s go get me some food.” “No.” You grabbed your pad and picked Shinsou. This time, he was made out of blankets. You laughed evilly and the real Shinsou was picked up by himself. He was startled but relaxed again. No walking. You pushed Monoma out the door and made it to the dining room. “Woah, you can make them out of blankets too?” To say, Izuku was impressed was an understatement. “I can make them out of whatever I want to use.” The blanket Shinsou sat the real one on a chair before going back to the room to return to its normal state.

The training took forever, it seemed. By the end, all of you were covered in sweat whether it be a lot or just a sheen layer. “You get the rest of the day off. Stay on campus.” Aizawa freed you to do whatever. Someone said that you guys should go to the pool but that requires permission. And who did they put up to ask? You. Midnight’s favorite. Why Midnight? Because she just absolutely thinks you are the cutest and loves how you’ve drawn her. She also loves how, deep down, you are sadistic too. “Midnight-san? Can we use the pool?” Aizawa started to give you a time to get out but he got cut off. “Of course! That sounds so wonderful. Go for as long as you like my baby!” “Thank you Midnight-san!” She squealed and watched you walk away. “You’ve got to stop playing favorites.” “Lighten up Aizawa! Isn’t she the cutest. You like her drive in class too. You’ve said it before.” He sighed and stared at the dominatrix. “I do but I do not favor her.” “Oh that’s right, you favor Shinsou. Which is her best friend. Oh they’d make a hot couple.” Midnight was useless to fight against Aizawa concluded before rolling up like a caterpillar in his ugly yellow sleeping bag.

When you coaxed Shinsou to get in the pool, you did not expect him and Monoma to gang up against you. You felt yourself get picked up and thrown into the pool. Monoma and Aoyama laughed as they stood right where you had. Letting yourself laugh as well, you splashed them and watched as they screamed. Excitedly, you swam over to Shinsou and held onto his back like an octopus (I should not have found that as funny as I did). “Shinsou! You’re freezing!” “It’s cold.” You let him go and told him to go warm up. Now only you, Kaminari and Midoryia were in the pool. “DENKI’S GOING TO SNEEZE!” Being too far away from the sides of the pool, you curse and brace yourself for the shock. You yelped when a loud achoo was heard and a shock traveled through your body. Turns out you were right next to the boy so the shock was worse. He was ready to sneeze again when you abruptly held his nose. “You fucking sneeze again and I’ll end your life.” You’d like to say that your threat had worked but it didn’t. As soon as you let go, he sneezed again. “DENKI!” Uh oh. He started to swim away and eventually made it on land. Breaking all of Iida’s rules, the two of you started running, one running away and the other running after.

It wasn’t until he stopped and you crashed into him that you realized you were on the edge of the pool. Kaminari held onto your waist to keep you from hitting him as the water surrounded you two. You sort of wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his torso as you felt yourself losing consciousness. All the exercise when your body was in pain from the shocks caused you to over exert your body. The last thing you felt was your bodies resurfacing and the heat from someone’s hand warming up your body. You awoke to the blinding sun and Midnight looking at you worried. You noticed she was adorned in a one piece bathing suit that looked quite well on her. “Are you alright?” “I think so, Midnight-san.” “I came out to watch you guys when I saw Kaminari carrying your unconscious body from the pool.” Kaminari! “Where is he?” “He’s feeling guilty while Shinsou reams him for shocking you. Maybe he should be banned from the pool.” You sat up abruptly causing you to wince, your muscles still tingling. “No. I would’ve been fine had we not fell in the water after running.” Once she decided you were okay, she hopped in the water and told everyone else they can join and not be worried.

Kaminari decided to sit out in the corner watching the others play and have fun. You hobbled over to him and sat down next to him. “Why aren’t you in the pool?” His golden eyes met yours. “I feel bad and if you can’t swim then I’m not swimming.” “You got banned didn’t you?” “That too.” You giggled at him. “What are we going to do with you Denki? Hmm?” He shrugged and shivered as a cold drop of water fell from his hair. You grabbed your towel and stood up. “Can I dry your hair?” “Sure!” Softly, you ran the towel through his hair before you deemed it dry enough. A piece of wet hair fell on his nose and he began to sniffle getting ready to sneeze. Just as he was on the brink of sneezing, you kissed him. You still got shocked just not as bad. When you pulled back you realized that Kaminari had just short circuited. “Dummy,” you whispered to no one in particular. Your head felt heavy, so you decided to lean in on Kaminari’s shoulder. Slowly, you started to drift off only waking up when someone was shaking you. “Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” It was Denki. As you looked around, you realized you two were alone and it was beginning to go dark.

“Where is everyone?” “I told them I’d bring you home when you woke up.” You sighed and secretly wished that someone had woken you up. “Now, let’s talk about earlier. What was that?” A pink tint appeared on your sun kissed cheeks. “A kiss?” “I know but why?” You hoped he didn’t hate you for it. “My dad used to do that to my mom all the time to stop her from sneezing. I decided to do it because I didn’t want to get shocked again.” “So it’s not because I’m cute?” He pouted and you may or may not have died on the inside. “I mean, I wouldn’t have kissed anyone else.” There it was, your indirect confession. For months now, you have been crushing on Kaminari. You’ve drawn him over a dozen times in a secret file so no one would criticize you for it. “Well I-I think yo-your cute too.” Oh really? “Really?” “Mmhm.” The two of you could have disintegrated from how hot your cheeks were. “M-maybe in a few weeks when summer starts, w-we can go on a-a date.” “I like that idea!” You pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek and grabbed his hand. “Let’s go home.” “Wait, one thing before.” Confused, you turned towards him only to be met with a kiss. “I’ll be doing that in secret until we get caught.” With that, he winked and walked with you to the dorms. He only got in four days worth of kisses before Bakugou outed you two after being a sore loser.

#denki x reader #denki x you #kaminari x reader #kaminari fluff #denki kaminari #my hero academia #bnha #class 1 a

40 notes · View notes

ghostmartyr · 4 years ago

Text

how a life can move from the darkness [11/?]

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

Summary: Two drug addicts (Eren and Historia) meet in group and decide to be roommates to make their living situation slightly less weird. From there we do the slow burn found family dance mixed in with the struggles and agonies of recovery. Heavy on friendship feels, especially EMA. Eventual yumikuri.

Ymir was going to be part of Eren’s life. He’d known for a while he didn’t have much of a choice in that. There wasn’t anything surprising about her coming to one of Zeke’s games. The surprise would be if she kept it at one. Ymir did what she wanted unless Historia told her not to, and according to Reiner what she wanted was to see Historia in a baseball uniform.

Eren didn’t need to know that, but he was getting used to all of it. He didn’t need Historia asking him five different times if Ymir meeting Armin and Mikasa was something he was okay with. No one had to hold his hand over them anymore. He had two of his own.

ymir’s showing at the game historia’s friend

Is this the girl from juvie

why do you know that

Historia was in juvie??

She watches Rivaille for me sometimes. It came up.

Why was Historia in juvie??

from when she killed her dad

Oh. That makes sense Wait, I thought that was self defense sort of

No.

????

It was all fine, and the worst thing about any of it was still that he was going to one of Zeke’s baseball games. Which wasn’t even so bad with Armin, Mikasa, and Historia all there and whole. Petra had called it a ‘sterling improvement.’ Eren didn’t remind her of all the parts left to work on. Maybe she’d call that an improvement, too.

What wasn’t fine was jolting awake at four in the morning, music Eren didn’t recognize blasting from his phone while his head hit go on lunging out of bed into his nightstand.

Ankle caught in his sheets, Eren held the box of sensory destruction in his hands for full seconds before the ability to turn it off came back to him. Blinding puffs of white clouds parted, and he could swipe the brightness down to numbing without his ears bleeding.

A jumble of words waited on his brain to catch up. Sprouting like weeds.

yo Baseball Boy u have friends coming to this thing right ur ocean instagram hot tub scale bro and catgirl

The corner of his phone agreed. It was four in the morning.

It buzzed enthusiastically in his hand, helpful emoji arrows loading to point at empty image boxes. They were quickly filled by another Eren, kneeling in wet sand and unaware that Armin was expanding the subjects of his Instagram. Five different angles popped up.

who needs this many pics of a sea urchin was he trying to get the seashell ur on top of

Eren’s fingers moved slowly.

why are you awake

Ymir did not respond with an answer.

how many hours do photoshoots like this take

Another shot loaded under the text, and it could have been the end of the world and Eren still would have recognized the picture from his last beach trip. Mikasa, magically captured in a moment of lifting him and Armin into the air. The unfair, unexpected moment in a day of clouds and uncooperative waves. Armin hadn’t seen it coming any more than Eren had, even though it was his picture. But he was the one beaming into the camera.

Eren hadn’t wanted to go. There was a tournament to prep for. Annie had been helping him. The cut on his cheek from her toe catching his face hadn’t even had a chance to heal. Captured in that one second Mikasa had lifted them up and Armin had thought to hold on to his phone, the mark was bright and red, flexing with his open mouth of outrage.

Mikasa was smiling too. She just wasn’t looking at the phone.

The top of the photo was cut off with a buzz.

u have a face under that hair… unreal […] u’d look prettier if u smiled

Eren untangled his foot from his bedding and flumped back on his pillow with his phone in hand.

fuck off

do u kiss ur besties with those fingers am I gonna get to watch that @ the game

Irritation didn’t offer the same warmth as his comforter, but the kindling helped take off the morning chill. Eren scrubbed his face with the palm of his hand and scowled at the screen.

you and historia need to stop asking about that I’m fine

A minute passed. Long enough for a yawn to dim the adrenaline.

cool

Eren waited for the rest.

He woke up with the sun shining under his blinds, his phone inside his pillowcase, no new messages from Ymir, and one unread apology text from Historia sent at five in the morning. And a baseball game to go to.

----

“You sure you don’t want to play? You have the arms for it.”

Yelena sat in the corner of the dugout. Up straight, even though her hair caught in the splinters hooked in the ceiling. Smiling, because she did that. Giving Eren an entire bench of personal space he hadn’t asked for, because she did that too.

“I’m sure,” he said, taking the batting helmets out of Zeke’s bag and jamming them in their cubbies.

Yelena was the only other person in the dugout. She started better cold. According to her.

Mikasa and Historia were warming up in the outfield, Historia looking out at the bleachers every five seconds. Colt and Zeke were next to them. Throwing like Colt didn’t mind doing nothing else a thousand times over.

One of the helmets hit the shelf instead of its slot. Eren ignored the field and shoved it back into place. Armin was planning to be on time instead of an hour early, so he wasn’t around yet.

Yelena was smiling at Eren.

He didn’t like it.

“Zeke keeps a spare uniform on hand. Your roommate would have found trouble with the fit, but your proportions are more agreeable,” Yelena said. “He’d be happy to give it to you. Playing with his brother again would mean the world and more to him.”

The helmets were cheap plastic past the padding. Eren’s hands could crack them. Easily. Take Zeke’s toys and break them to see if that would make talking to Eren about feelings and what he wanted sound any better.

He’d done that by accident as a kid. It never worked. Whether or not it would now wasn’t a thought that had even settled when a new voice found its way into the shaded dirt. “What’s big brother have against the world?”

Like a grinning gargoyle, mocking and light, Ymir appeared, settling her arms on the dugout’s roof and leaning into Eren’s personal space. His reflection blinked at him from the mirrored rainbow sunglasses perched on her forehead.

It took several seconds before the reflection’s eyes shifted enough to catch the waving figure next to her. Armin, earlier than he ever was to these, because he never got enough sleep and had to catch up somewhere, smiled awkwardly, a good chunk of his body fully accosted by Ymir.

Something heavy and warm was threading into Eren’s chest, and it made it hard to look at either of them. “Aren’t those Reiner’s?” he asked.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?”

He put away the last helmet soundlessly. “You stole his sunglasses?”

“Since my last felony went so well,” Ymir said, hopping down and crushing a sunflower seed under the pointed dress shoes she’d decided to wear to a baseball game. “You should care more that I stole Instagram boy.”

She flipped off the glasses and planted them squarely on Eren’s head, bypassing every physical and verbal protest. Armin, standing out in the sunshine and looking happier than anyone should at one of these things, quietly drew out his phone and Eren rolled his eyes compliantly before the shutter noise sounded.

Yelena interrupted the moment.

“You’re new.”

Armin’s smile stiffened. Ymir’s hands made another knot in Eren’s hair, and she passed Yelena a bored look. “Yeah,” she said, “I suppose I am. You’d be?”

“Yelena,” said Yelena. A hand stuck out by Eren’s hip and hovered there with all the earnest politeness that never felt honest coming from her. She kept at it every time anyway. “It’s a pleasure to meet another one of Eren’s friends.”

“I’ll bet,” Ymir said. “You don’t look like someone who comes by that naturally.” There was a shark in those teeth. Eren hadn’t realized Yelena was bleeding in the water. “Don’t take it too personally; that brother of his doesn’t have apartment privileges either.”

Without another word, she grabbed Eren by his scalp and yanked him up the steps, disregarding his balance and safety and pulling him into the morning sunlight next to a staring Armin. Before she kept the movement going and pressed heavy hands on their backs and shoved them out of the backstop’s limits.

Failing on the rest, and making limited headway forcing Ymir out of his hair, Eren offered,“Good morning.”

Armin, eyes alight and stunned, said, “Good morning.”

Eren jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “This is Ymir.”

Armin nodded. “We met by the drinking fountain.”

Eren nodded.

Ymir continued pushing them towards the bleachers, scuffing line chalk all over their shoes, with only one telling stumble that set Armin free from her grip. Eren wasn’t so lucky, and it felt on purpose.

The pressure pushing him away from the dugout didn’t let up. Ymir had earned her rock climbing qualifications somewhere and it showed, but her entire head was aimed at the outfield, where Historia missed an easy lob by her head because her glove was down at her waist. Mikasa had to call her name several times before it took, and she jogged back to fetch the ball with a stumble that gave Mikasa time to look over to determine what was so distracting.

She found Eren first. In their oddly connected pile.

He pointed at Ymir.

Mikasa’s eyebrows rose. He shrugged.

Ymir stared, since that’s what she did when Historia was in orbit, and Historia kept moving while she stared back. Crossing near Zeke and Colt in the process. Where every third throw was a risk since Zeke was putting Colt through grounder paces. Colt wasn’t great with grounders. His little brother was. Eren was. That was half of little league.

Armin’s face popped in front of Eren and he almost jumped. “Ymir thought you’d like watching from the stands with us,” he said. “That’s not how she said it, but—do you want to?”

A floater landed softly in Colt’s glove, and Eren pulled his eyes away. “Sure,” he said, focusing on Armin and the warmth coming through Ymir’s hand on his back. On how easy it always was here.

“So Armin,” Ymir said into the quiet morning mist, “what was Eren like before he had hair?”

“Louder, mostly.”

“Hey.”

----

Watching from the bleachers wasn’t that different from watching from the dugout. There were still rooting for the same people. Nothing they did contributed to how it was going. It was still several hours of watching people stand in one spot waiting for a moment that might never come.

There wasn’t anything new to it.

“Cutter.”

“Not with this one. Fastball.”

“Zeke’s more strategic than that. No one else on their team has gotten a hit all day. He won’t risk that happening again in the final inning.”

“No one else getting a piece of him means he has something to prove.”

“Winning proves that better.”

Nothing new at all, except Armin wasn’t sitting with a bunch of people who didn’t care about how their genius pitcher won them the game. He was sitting next to Ymir, a bunch of twigs in the shape of a diamond resting etween them, small gouges in the splintered stands where they’d jabbed in larger sticks to make their points earlier.

“What do you think, Eren?” Ymir’s voice broke into his lazy contentment. “How much of a prideful prick is big brother?”

Eren looked over at the mound, where he hadn’t had to all game with the commentary running by his ears. Where Zeke stood as the king of his domain. Steady and calm to anyone who did think to look. “Fastball.”

Armin objected. “It’s the ninth inning, it doesn’t make any sense to—”

The pitch left Zeke’s hand. Straight as an arrow. Hammering into the catcher’s mitt. In three of the movies that had somehow survived their list purges, this was where the stadium would go silent before the crowd erupted in cheers.

They weren’t in a stadium, and there wasn’t a crowd.

Armin sighed, his careful placement of twigs slipping back down to the ground.

Ymir clucked her tongue. “You hate to see it.”

“They won,” Eren said, unhelpfully. Armin’s heavier sigh made the whole diamond shine brighter. Past tolerable. Put with Ymir’s rolling eyes and Mikasa jogging to the outfield to walk in with Historia, it hit somewhere closer to whatever Zeke saw whenever he stepped up to the mound.

Whatever it was that made showing up worth it. Eren had never understood as a kid, stuck in the bleachers with his grandparents. Finally being let into the dugout didn’t make it any better, even when it should have. Getting a taste when he was back to the bleachers while the teams shook hands wasn’t something he would have thought to look for.

The baseball part was still dumb.

Ymir’s elbow jabbed his ribs and pointed at Mikasa. “That’s the cat friend?”

Eren pushed her back into Armin’s section of bench. “We told you that was her when she got the grand slam.” All four runs on the board were thanks to Mikasa. Armin had jumped to his feet to cheer for her. The guy walking his dog nearby knew who Mikasa was, and Ymir was paying more attention.

She didn’t snipe back. She dropped Reiner’s sunglasses on his head and kept staring out at the field. Historia had spent most of the game out of range. Every few shook hands she glanced over her shoulder, but Ymir didn’t so much as twitch at the extra attention. She was watching Mikasa. The hand she’d dropped to the bench was digging into the splintered edge.

She’d used that hand to text him at four in the morning.

“You’re nervous,” Eren said abruptly.

Ymir scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Eren looked at Armin for confirmation. Armin’s wide eyes darted between them, Ymir stubbornly staring at the back of Mikasa’s head as she hit the end of the line. After a stalled second that said everything, he shrugged diplomatically.

Eren spun back to Ymir. “You are.”

“Right, because meeting up with your friends really earned its spot on my dayplanner,” Ymir said, unclenching her fist enough to lean back on the next row of bleachers. It didn’t look as casual as she thought it did.

Armin tried to help. “Mikasa’s not that scary once you get to know her,” he said. “She’s amazing at everything, and that can intimidate some people, but—”

“I am not intimidated,” Ymir declared. “From everything you nerds have told me her cat’s scarier than she is.”

“Rivaille’s…” Armin’s defense fell short. “A rescue,” he said at last.

Eren picked his dropped thread back up. “If you’re not intimidated, what are you nervous about?”

“Are your ears broken?” Ymir said. “I’m not nervous.”

“You’re breaking the seats with your hand.”

She stole her sunglasses back and pointed them at him. “All that says is your brother should pick a better park to play at.”

“The league figures that out.”

“They’re walking over,” Armin said.

Eren and Ymir shut up. Ymir’s face had lost the shade of color Historia usually gave her, and maybe there was something wrong with that, but the only other time Eren had seen her in a social situation she wasn’t in control of, she’d started crying. Maybe she was just like this with new people.

Historia didn’t have the extra bounce Ymir usually gave her, either. But anything could take away Historia’s good mood, and Ymir was more like her everything.

Mikasa looked like Mikasa. She wasn’t someone to be nervous over.

“C’mon,” Eren said, wrenching Ymir’s arm out of the splinters. “Get up and say hi.”

Ymir flicked him off and tromped down the stands. Armin was biting back a smile. Eren held out a hand and swung him to his feet, following Ymir without helping her grow any of the cracks in the wood.

Like magnets, Historia fell into Ymir’s orbit instantly, and any of Mikasa’s intimidation factor that Ymir had made up evaporated. Ymir slid Reiner’s sunglasses down over her eyes and looked Historia and her haphazardly dusted uniform up and down.

The color came back, and Ymir coughed into her hand. “Shouldn’t have swung at that ball in the fifth,” she said.

Historia’s whole face twitched in exasperation. “I thought I could reach it.”

Ymir grinned and hooked a finger around one of her sleeves, pulling her close enough for Armin to carefully switch his gaze to Eren’s shoulder. “With these nubs?” she asked. “Has anyone tried to ship you off to little league yet?”

“She throws too hard.”

Mikasa’s quiet insertion drew all eyes to her.

Stable and calm, she wasn’t at all put off by Ymir, or Historia’s cleat digging into Ymir’s shoe. Which she noticed. And smiled at. She’d had worse. For as long as Eren had known her. If the shame didn’t steel out the words, he could have told Ymir that.

Ymir shot Eren a look, a leering smile mocking him. “I’ve heard that.” Then she switched back to Mikasa, and the person who manned an entire household she didn’t live in gleamed under her stolen sunglasses. She stuck out her hand.

“Ymir.”

Mikasa silently looked between Ymir and Historia’s proximity and Eren.

She took Ymir’s hand.

“Eren’s friend,” she said.

Ymir bristled, but next to her, Historia’s eyes did the sunburst thing Armin’s did. Those moments that wiped everything else away, because the world stopped and paid attention when it noticed someone with the brightness to change it was waking up.

They’d lived together for months. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her happy before.

Defensive tension leaked out of Ymir like a beach balloon. She saved the last of it for a pointed scowl in Eren’s direction before dropping out of the handshake and turning away from all of them. Stuttering somewhat when Historia’s hand quietly took up the residence Mikasa’s had been thrown from.

“I guess,” Ymir said shortly. “Your boy’s okay.”

Eren’s ears burned, and he glared at the backstop. Armin’s soft laugh and Mikasa’s audible smile did not make the burning go away. It just went other places and was even harder to ignore.

“Yeah, well. You’re… fine,” he said.

The brutal, heated silence of embarrassment continued. Everyone else didn’t mind. His eyes flicked up and made the mistake of catching Mikasa’s.

Affection spilled out freely from her. Genuine and familiar. Warmer than she’d been with him even before everything fell apart. She made the blood rushing to his head feel like it was allowed to be there, and maybe wasn’t ever going to leave.

Mikasa was fine too.

----

“Are you doing okay with all of that?”

There were questions Eren had learned to put up with. Questions from Reiner had been an early test of that. Strung out and on fire, he could break Reiner’s face open for talking at all, or suck it up and learn how to be human again.

Figuring out answers to the questions wasn’t the same thing.

“Huh?” Eren said.

They were outside Reiner’s house, waiting on Ymir. She’d gotten a text from Historia on her way to pick up her helmet and the world went on pause.

“With that,” Reiner said, pointing over his shoulder at the front door.

The front door stayed a front door.

“With what?” Eren asked blankly.

“With Ymir and Historia being a thing,” Reiner said. Before Eren could add another ‘what,’ the words kept going. Reiner was at his most earnest this morning, and he bridged the gap between their bikes with a creak of metal and sincerity that Eren didn’t want. “Third wheeling can be rough.”

Eren was a morning person. It was too early for this. He said, “I’m fine.”

Reiner’s open sympathy didn’t falter. Under the dark circles and the bunched tendons in his arms that still didn’t know how to relax, there was nothing but plain, unnecessary compassion. “I talked it over with Bert and Marcel, and everyone’s fine with you rooming here.”

Anything Eren could say or wanted to be confused by got lost in syrup and waffles and the inevitable. He unclamped his hands from his bicycle and rubbed away the red indents before they were visible to anyone but him. “I have a room.”

A nice room. With sheets that had made it through two homes he wasn’t going back to. He wasn’t going to volunteer a third. “And they wouldn’t just kick me out,” Eren added, a phantom of Ymir’s hand ruffling his hair.

Reiner held one of his elbows in a way Eren had etched into his head from Historia. “No,” he agreed. “They’re not like that. They’re too used to us to ask. But for guys like us, it’s hard not to help out.” His bike shifted under him. He didn’t lean in any closer, but the world around them closed. “Only guys like us don’t do well on our own.”

Eren stayed quiet. His tongue was fuzzy. The way it had been when he woke up in the hospital. He didn’t know why he’d decided to like that feeling.

“I just wanted you to know you don’t have to go backwards,” Reiner said after a moment or two. “That’s all.”

It wasn’t that cold, but the heat in Eren’s ears still stung more than anything. He stared squarely at the ground, where a pillbug was scrunching down the sidewalk. Petra and months of encouragement didn’t make the improvement feel good. Just necessary enough to be weird.

“Thanks,” he said.

Reiner clapped him on the back hard enough to leave marks on both of them.

[next]

#drug au #fic #mine #long post

8 notes · View notes

shhhlikeme · 4 years ago

Text

Nin’s Matchup!

(SFW + NSFW)

Matchup Profile: Sfw+nsfw matchup pretty pls! (1/5) Name: Nin>Female>5’4>Film & sfx/theatrical makeup freelancer>V athletic in MS-HS: ballet, was in volley ball, soccer &Basketball teams>Miss my prime days>Scared to start workout again b/c I’ll get lightheaded>If sum1 helps push me through initial fear, I’ll keep growing from there> Likes chilling in ballet stretch poses>paints, photographs&draws as hobby>draws a pic a day (mostly portraits)>writing a comic atm >Always plan contingencies.🦄

(2/5) >embarrassed of my loud laugh(it’s like Kuroo’s)>introvert>not afraid to lead a team tho> V shy & quiet most times>8/10 times, feels awk in public,like idk what i’m saying, but others told me I seem social>Once I’m comfy w/ u, i joke a lot(occasional mum jokes 2 annoy+Sassy dirty ones w/ S/O)>hides behind ppl who likes 2 talk, but not when they’re 2 loud>laughs @ mistakes/when embarrassed>Will stop mistreatment, even if I get in trouble>values communication&genuine discussions🦄

(3/5) Sings when home alone>competes @ Street Fighter tournaments, trains everyday 4 it>Sings “Hit Me W/ Your Best Shot” when fighting bosses in game&swears melodically when i lose>eats chips w/ chopsticks >make hats out of my cat fur when bored>Workahokic night🦉>likes 2 teach >full convos w/ my 🐱>LIVES in oversized hoodies & flip flops, regardless of weather>no pants@home!>Feels incompetent sometimes, but keep practicing 2 improve>Analytical fast learner>idk why ppl think i look innocent🦄

(4/5)>Forgets 2 speak eng when tired (Thai 1st lang.)>Headrubs 4 s/o every night b4 bed>will miss u but is bad@texting>yelps like puppy when I’m surprised>Unconventionally resourceful: Wire hangers’s fixes everything! >stress bakes & will gets pouty if it didn’t turn out well.>overwhelmed to water my 50+ 🌱 >Doodles on smt (always have a pen on me)when i feel socially anxious> 2 dance sober @ clubs> Wants a stable relationship where we work tgt like a team to bring out the best in one another🦄

(5/5) I like a s/o who is lovable, kind, genuine, mature, independent and caring, but can also joke & be silly with like best friends. NSFW: open 2 try new things>❤️restraints, blindfolds & sensual tickle sex (as lee+ler) but had always been too shy to share it with any1>occasionally self conscious of food baby+stretchmarks>🥰edging/teasing >has a thing 4 height differences (likes to feel smol lol!) & primal play.>Is a switch. I’m so sorry if it’s too much info! Thank you for doing this!🦄

————————————

A/N: HI LOVE @crushzone !!!! I SMILE WHEN I SEE YOU IN MY NOTIFS GIRL I WORKED HARD ON YOURS OF COURSE💖 But no matter whaaaat I’m going to be very authentic in my matchups bc they’re based on compatibility and therefore, without further ado, lemme introduce you to your NEW BAE:

————————————

KŌTARŌ BOKUTO 🦉

SFW:

so you’re a theatrical makeup artist.

Aight.

Mind if I offer you a word of advice? :

RUN

“DUDE THAT’S AMAZING IT LOOKS SO SICK!”

Startled by someone’s loud booming voice, you smudged the eyeliner you were applying to your actor’s face all over their forehead. Whipping around to see who had disrupted your work you were faced with a beautiful black and grey haired owl. A rather tall... and very attractive ‘beautiful black and grey haired owl.’

He started walking around the dressing room like he owned the place, touching everything.

“Excuse me, you don’t have a badge. You can’t be backstage—!”

“Pretty obvious don’t you think, Miss ________?”

You didn’t take his bait, refusing to give this stranger your name. Bokuto shrugged.

“Well since I don’t know your name I shall label thee—Miss HOT GIRL of the 9 Kingdoms!” He nudged the knight actor who was sitting in your makeup chair with his elbow. “Did I sound 15th century ish or what??” The owl turned to you expecting to be praised. “I had to meet the person who made the medieval vampire look so scary in the last act. But that guy with the lights didn’t tell me anything about you being so hot.”

You were speechless because he was hot too

But he shouldn’t be back here so you tried to shoo him out anyway

He allowed you to try to shove him out but he was way bigger than you so nice try sis

When he yawned while you panted because you weren’t able to budge him an inch....

Bokuto wagered that he would leave if you agreed to make him look like the Hulk with your makeup skills for a Halloween party he had to go to

You didn’t really want to because you were a professional and you had no idea who this owl was but because you had 15 minutes until the second act and you needed peace and quiet if you were going to finish your job!!! ....

( This boy was not peace NOR quiet )

You agreed.... but because you answered so fast Bokuto kicked it up one notch

Prince of pushing his luck (king is reserved for Shōyo‘s extra ass)

He pretended to allow you to push him out of the makeup room a few steps but before you closed the door he stuck his foot between the door so it couldn’t close.

Smiling, he peered back in, looking down at you:

“AND...... you have to agree to go on a date with me. Tomorrow night?”

“Ugh FINE!”

Bo removed his foot and let himself out with a bounce in his step.

SERIOUSLY WHO LET THIS MAN BACKSTAGE......

Needless to say, after a few dates, mans won you over like he wins EVERYONE over

It surprised you how comfortable you became with him but he just has that affect on people

***

In terms of your athletic relationship Bokuto does many things:

He pushes you to go to the gym with him for one

He signs the two of you up for impromptu Beginner 30-day challenges that you both must stick to

So every morning for 30-days straight he jumps on you in bed to wake you up:

“NIN BABY TIME TO HIT THE GYM. BABY NIN TIME TO GET IN SOME SEXY GYM SHORTS. MON BÉBÉ NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNN—“

“Kōtarō, please shut up.”

he doesn’t

He drags you there and eventually you get back into the swing of things.. killing it in the weight room with your supportive man cheering on your every rep!

You don’t even need him to wake you up during the second challenge!

Your volleyball player boyfriend also signs you up (without permission) for the neighborhood soccer team that Akaashi’s girlfriend is already on

You hated it at first because it was uncomfortable going back after not playing for so long but you soon realized that all the girls there were ex-athletes too and not stars

You formed amazing new girl friendships (especially with Akaashi’s gf) and double dates with them were one of your favourite nights of the week!

You owed that happiness in your life all to your Owl 🦉🥰

He and Akaashi came to every soccer game y’all had and you and the three of you went to all of Bokuto’s games, obviously

Btw you all were FITTTTTT OML

***

In addition...

You already know that your man finds your artistic talents insanely fascinating

On your first anniversary together Bokuto gifted you with a new paint set and new French stand:

Because he admires you Bokuto also tries to draw and paint seriously just like you

You stand over his shoulder and give him corrections and baby owl learns so fast it’s amazing

You two make ‘paint night’ a thing when you move in together and it’s always the most fun event!!!!

Bokuto CONSTANTLY and I mean CONSTANTLY asks for you to add him to the comic you’re writing but you say no because he wouldn’t fit in

He sulks but one day you surprise him by showing him that you drew a cute soaring black and gray owl in the background of almost every outdoor scene in your comic,

you pointed out that it was him

BOKUTOOOO WAS SOOOOO HAPPY

HE WAS SHOUTING FROM THE ROOFTOPS

He called Akaashi right away and almost cried tears of joy hahahahaha

***

Your contingent based lifestyle has saved your reckless boyfriend’s life and career many-a-times

It’s one of the things he loves most about you.

Also, it is important to mention that he is in LOVE with your laugh

Bby owl does anything to hear it and showers your face with kisses when you laugh to draw it out

He loves you so freaking much

When you don’t make sense and speak gibberish in public because your awkward side randomly comes out......your boyfriend loves to make fun of you:

“Huh? Nin, that wasn’t Japanese, that wasn’t Thai and that definitely wasn’t English. What planet is my adorable baby girl from, again? And how do I return her in exchange for a floating space car instead?!”

suh cute

All of Bokuto’s teammates really like you because you work in conjunction with Akaashi which means you actually have the magic ability to get Bokuto out of emo mode even faster than his best friend 🤯🤯🤯

When he’s at an away game in emo mode his teammates will literally FaceTime you and point their phone in his general direction

“Hey, Kōtarō!!!! Look, Nin’s on the phoneeee!”

Bby owl turns around slowly when he was sulking in the corner and when he sees you on the screen he’s running and jumping on whoever is holding your phone.”

“Kōtarō baby. You’re going to stop this emo mode right now. If not I won’t let you paint me nude like we discussed.”

mans was like: 😨😨😨😨🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

YEP the next second you see him hitting his best practice spikes and his teammate thanks you profusely

You do this several times until Kōtarō just knows to not go into emo mode anymore because you won’t be happy

A year into his professional volleyball career The Black Jackal’s coach sent a surprise fruit bouquet to your work one time:

With a note that read:

To Nin,

Thanks.

Thanks a lot.

Love,

The Team

***

I know you don’t really like people who are considered “too loud” and Bokuto is like...... “MEGA LOUD 🎙 “ but you and Akaashi work together to quiet your boy down as he gets older

He’s perfect

And you love him

***

OKAY THIS IS THE FUNNIEST day THING:

You know how you like standing up for people (even strangers) and stuff?

Well one day, you and Bokuto get caught on a show called WHAT WOULD YOU DO?

Where the two of you cussed out this cat-abusing actor on the show in a convincing scenario!

It was PRICELESS

Bokuto literally tells everyone that y’all are movie stars because of it 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

***