#going through a lot. which for the record i dont mind doing i reached out to them bc i truly want to help them & im legit in the | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hellonoblesky · 2 years ago

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OK OK ive been thinking a lot about what you said about the fandoms portrayal of the relationship between kaeya and venti and how its very odd considering kaeya being khaenrian and venti being an archon. i think it’d be very interesting to write smth about the two and them kind of running circles around each other because they both think the other is going to do something.

on the same page, since you like khaenriah alot i wonder how you view the archons role in the cataclysm ? im personally inclined to believe they were .. controlled in a way ? not in the “oh theyre so innocent 🥺🥺🥺” because i dont think they were like. MIND CONTROLLED fully but i do think it was partially against their wills ? something to do with the gnosises and their true uses ? im sort of undecided on it still because i havent fully thought it out..

HEHEHE SPINS AROUND Also quick disclaimer I have not played Nahida's story quest yet (I. don't like her very much and haven't worked up the energy to play another like hour-long quest with her) so this is all based on information learned from the game up to the final Sumeru Archon Quest!!!

I think the Archons, initially, were summoned to quell the threat of the Abyss, and the Abyss alone. I think that despite Celestia's track record for suppressing nations that reach something comparable to their level of power (Vindagnyer), that Khaenri'ah legitimately wasn't majorly interfering with Teyvat to the point that Celestia would have grounds to step in and demolish it (like, again, they did with Vindagnyer).

(WHICH ISN'T to say that I think that Khaenri'ah was entirely cut off from the rest of Teyvat, I wholeheartedly believe that they had established trade and relations with other nations, especially because Khaenri'ah was founded on a mix of nations, so it would make sense for them to have established relations with those nations to accommodate for the variety of people. I just think that Khaenri'ah had no interest in Teyvat in terms of like, rising to power over it, which is why it persisted for give or take 2500+ years (it's definitely around the same time as Venti's lifespan, but I don't have an exact number yet). Which tracks with it being founded on people literally just trying to live without the Archons)

I think the Cataclysm was triggered by a select few (Gold likely one of them) digging too deep into Forbidden Knowlege, as Nahida said it was of the deepest depths of the Abyss, and if there's anything the Cataclysm is known for it's 1) The Destruction of Khaenri'ah and 2) The Emergence of the Abyss.

This initial surge of the Abyss, as in the Sages of Khaenri'ah/Gold discovering it and tugging at it, could have led to a lot of reactions in Celestia. If Celestia had been looking for a reason to sic the Archons on Khaenri'ah, this was definitely it. If Celestia had just been. Hangin out there and went like "OH SHIT LOL the fucking ABYSS is putting the IRMUNSIL in DANGER right now someone send the Archons" then that's. Different.

In the end, I think the Archons didn't know exactly what they were doing or the full effects of what would happen. They were summoned by Celestia, possibly by the Heavenly Principles themselves, and told to stop an Abyssal threat in Khaenri'ah.

Gold's outburst (which I still believe was originally a defensive move and not a move intended to destroy) caused the Abyss to come FLOODING through, sending the Archons into a panicked or more desperate state, leading to them using tactics and moves that focuses more on total annihilation than just getting the Abyss out, ESPECIALLY as the Curse began to manifest and people started succumbing to it, taking on more "monstrous" forms.

AND ITS ACTUALLY!!!! SO INTERESTING because from the Ruin Golem in the desert we know that the Curse may have (actually with what we know of Dainsleif and such it DEFINITELY) manifested in different ways with different people. And Khaenri'ahns fought AGAINST it. They used the machines of their nation to fend off the Abyss because it was destroying THEIR HOME. THEIR HOME WAS SUCCUMBING TO THIS FORCE BROUGHT UP FROM THE DEPTHS THAT THEY HAD NO SAY IN.

HOWEVER. I think the Archons SHOULD have made more of an effort to care for the survivors. I think Venti could have done better when handling the Durin situation (especially considering that Durin was a CHILD put in the body of a dragon and had minimal if not NO idea what was happening when he was fighting Dvalin). I think Zhongli and Liyue were in an optimal place to save and help people. I think that Ei, in her grief, should have gone to the other Archons with her questions. And I think that King Deshret and the Greater Lord should have made the proper preparations and/or proper documentation of the event.

Were they misinformed in their attack and destruction of Khaenri'ah? Yes.

Was the destruction of Khaenri'ah their INTENTION? No.

Do they understand in this day that what they did, in the end, caused a whole nation to lose itself and hundreds (if not thousands) of people to be stranded with a curse they didn't know about manifesting in them, and that the way that their nations now see Hilichurls may very Harmful? Yes.

I highly doubt that any of them believe what they did was wholly right, but I think some of them may be under the impression that, though, harsh, the ends justified the means. (Zhongli, mainly, I think. Love the guy but he WWAS the Warrior God, and the preservation of Liyue was his number one obligation).

BUT I think that Khaenri'ahns, those who's family lines survived (Kaeya ESPECIALLY, being of the Alberich Clan), do hold a (pretty rightful) hatred towards the Archons, because at the end of they day they don't know the full story (neither do the Archons, but they probably know a little more). From a normal Khaenri'ahn POV, the Archons descend on your nation, then the Abyss surges forward, and now everything is irreversibly fucked up and you've lost pretty much everything.

(Also I do wholey believe that Kaeya would like. Humor Venti as in he would be his usual cheery jokester self but at the end of the day, he doesn't like him. He's not a fan. Actually I could probably write a whole other post about Kaeya and how Mondstadtian religion probably had a hugely negative effect on him but that's like. Legitimately a whole other thing DKJFHSDJF)

#turtledove answers #turtletheories #khaenri'ah #genshin impact #RAGRHAGRHGHRKLGASKFJSHDNLFJKS< I THINK ABOTU. THEM SO MUCH #KHaenri'ah. In my head all the time eveyr day I love this nation with my whole heartyou h ave mo idea

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misora-msby · 4 years ago

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embarrassing moments with inarizaki

inarizaki always looks so cool but you know they’re actually dorks and i am here to provide you the content to show theyre clowns. enjoy the headcanons :)

Kita Shinsuke

firstly. kita shinsuke being embarrased? making a mistake? unheard of.

he’s a perfect man and we all know it.

anyways

you two were having a nice dinner out together.

it was a pretty fancy place so you decided to dress in a different style today

but you were beginning to wonder if kita liked it or not because he seemed to keep looking past your shoulder instead of at you

he was an observant guy so you were wondering if something had happened behind you

but you couldn’t hear anything weird so you assumed not

you decided to just stay quiet about it at first but now it was beginning to become annoying!

why wasn’t he looking you in the eye to speak?

midway through your dinner, kita finally spoke up tho

“y/n, your shirt is slipping... yer bra’s showing.”

oh.

right. you were wearing your off-shoulder top.

“o-oh. shin, it’s that kind of shirt, you know?” you had to explain your outfit to ur bf with a pink face.

“oh... that so... well it’s cold these days so if yer feelin’ cold lemme know. i’ll give ya my jacket.”

GOD HES SO PERFECT KITA SHINSUKE I HOPE U MARRY HIM???????

Ojiro Aran

another man with next to no flaws.

but nature says everyone has to make some mistake.

so it was a regular school day, our aran has just come to class from morning practice and there’s still some time left until class starts.

all the girls in class are gathered around a table

he’s not sure why, it’s probably watching an idol video

but ur man wants to be a little romantic!!

plus he just showered so he smells Great uwu

he goes over and hugs you from behind, placing his chin on ur head.

“hey, bb whatcha ya doin”

all the girls gasp.

he doesn’t get whats wrong, it’s not like it’s a secret y’all are dating

pda to this level aint bad either

especially compared to his teammate miya atsumu

“ojiro aran.”

why is your voice behind him

he looks down and nearly faints when he sees he hugged the wrong girl.

to be fair she looked a lot like you from behind, just maybe 1cm shorter.

“i’m so sorry!” he keeps apologising to literally everyone and all the class is giggling bc they never seen their school’s ace so red before.

“didn’t think i’d come back from the toilet and see my bf cheatin”

“IT WAS A MISTAKE! I’M SERIOUS! Y/N U KNOW I LOVE YA!”

hes so funny i swear

the volleyball team hears of it and it gets even better

Miya Atsumu

it’s not a secret that miya atsumu, setter of the inarizaki volleyball team and invited to national youth training camp, had a gf

he was very much in love with u

the whole class knew it because he’d show it off whenever he could too

so here comes valentines day

last year he received like... 50 different gifts from girls and guys aiming to win his love.

you didnt even give him one lmAOOOOO

but this year, he had been not so subtly trying to hint that “i better not receive any chocolates this year when i’ve got a gf!”

he reaches school and plops into his seat.

there’s an anonymous box of chocolates with “please accept my love, miya-kun! <3″ on it

“the hell’s this?!”

“oh? chocolates?” - osamu who just popped his head into the class to shove into his twin’s face how much chocolate he got.

especially since the blond was off limits, the grey-haired twin had a bigger following now.

“do they not know i have a girlfriend...”

“well, ya might as well eat it. ya dont know who to return it to.”

“that’s like receivin’ their love!”

“no it ain’t. it’s just food.”

atsumu couldn’t argue with that and popped a piece in.

it was very delicious. the chocolate practically melted on his tongue and was the perfect sweetness and was filled with a delicious ganache too.

it was perfect

but he couldn’t accept this!

“it ain’t even good. too sweet and the filling’s sticky.”

“ah. really? is that what you think, tsumu?” you ask from the door where you had been watching the exchange take place.

“y/n! look at this! some weirdo gave me some choco and like... samu said to test it but i’ll toss it out, promise.”

“tsumu, i made that... i wrote it anonymously because i thought you’d know it was me and i wanted to tease you a little.”

“huh.”

osamu: “yeah actually i went over to her place to teach her how to make it.”

atsumu: “you said you went to suna’s place?!”

osamu: “i went there later but i first went to help her.”

you: “anyways if it’s not good i don’t mind if you toss it out...”

tsumu: “NO NO BABE I PROMISE IT’S GOOD”

you: “you just said-”

“BABE I SWEAR IT’S GOOD I JUST DIDN’T WANT TO ACCEPT A STRANGER’S STUFF”

“you’re always so honest though... are you sure?” you were having your fun teasing him now.

“BB PLSSSSSS”

he still cringes at the memory 4 years into ur marriage

Miya Osamu

osamu would DEFINITELY make home made dinner dates a regular thing.

this alone shows he’s the better twin - miya atsumu stan

he loves cooking and eating with you so sometimes when he’s got a day off you guys’ll set aside the afternoon to make a real nice dinner

imagine candlelit dinner with miya dorito body osamu in a suit

of course some fun stuff happens after too ;)))

and today’s your third anniversary!!

so osamu adds lots of ‘natural aphrodisiacs’ to the meal

i’m talkin

garlic bread and soup for an appetiser, a nice juicy steak with garlic and red wine sauce for the main, and chocolate coated strawberries for dessert

mm yummy

you two cleaned your plates completely (it was very delicious) and as you were washing the dishes, osamu comes up behind and wraps his arms around your waist

“yes, ‘samu?”

“i’ve already prepared us a nice bath with yer favourite scents.” he’s got his head resting on ur chin

“really? thank you~ i’ll be there in a bit”

but he doesn’t let go of you while you’re still scrubbing at the baking sheets.

“osamu, you can let go for now.”

“don’t feel like it.”

“i gotta wash the dishes since you did most of the cooking.”

“mmm, i’ll do it if ya gimme a kiss.”

you roll ur eyes bc what a cutie

u turn ur head to give him a kiss but suddenly he

he burps

that garlicy wine smell is just kinda there

“ew! ‘samu!!”

his face is real red but he’s also trying not to laugh because he’s still a dude and this is absolutely hilarious to him

“want another?” he starts teasing

“i’m not getting in the bath with you.”

“wait wait wait i’m sorry, i’ll go brush my teeth and give you a proper kiss”

Suna Rintarou

you two were taking the train home today

it was quite late due to practice going a little longer than usual, so he insisted he walked you back home today.

sunarin can be a good boyf sometimes ok

it was getting a little crowded on the train tho, since people were heading home or going out for dinner

luckily you had already grabbed seats so you were quite comfortable sitting side by side.

you and suna have the type of relationship were you dont have to talk all the time

silence is v comfy.

he’s just scrolling through twitter on his phone while you’re looking around the car, lost in ur thoughts

suddenly you notice an old lady standing a little bit away from you and you stand up

“baa-san, please take my seat.” you whisper in the crowded carriage

“oh how kind of you. thank you, dearie.” she smiles and takes your seat while you stand in front of her and suna instead.

suna doesn’t realise this exchange has happened tho

(he’s on his phone as usual)

probably starting some fights on twitter

he decides to try to be a little romantic and pretends to stretch his arm around (who he thought was) you.

“rin.”

why is your voice right in front of him?

“young man, i appreciate it but i’m married.”

suna jumps as he sees someone he did not recognise next to him.

he looks up and notices you had moved.

you’re giggling

the granny’s giggling

atsumu and osamu sitting opposite on the carriage look like they’re going to cry because they’re trying not to laugh

“i was just stretching. really.” he mumbles and crosses his arms, face red as a tomato

he’s so embarrassed.

Ginjima Hitoshi

sometimes the inarizaki vbc would go for an after practice snack at the nearby family mart

they were really hungry after an intense preparation for nationals which was in two weeks so kita insisted they all get something to fill them up on the way home

but lucky lucky ginjima hhehe

you (his classmate who he had a crush on) were working at the cash register today.

“welcome!” you greet everyone as they enter

he cant help but stiffen up a bit

why are u so cute and cheery today

the 2nd years already know what to do.

“heyy, i think last week i bought ya that ramen right? ya owe me my konbini snacks today!” - atsumu

“yeah. you lost a bet to me last week so u gotta pay up. a pack of jelly fruit sticks please.” - suna

“forgot my money today, mind payin’ for my snacks too?” - osamu

“like hell i’m paying for all of you. especially you, osamu. you eat too much all the time.”

aran’s noticed what’s going on,

“hey, if it’s just for today you can do it right? if ‘samu don’t pay ya back tomorrow i’ll nag him ‘til he does.”

“fine...” his basket is full when he goes to the counter.

he’s trying his best not to have a red face while watching u scan the items, ur hair swaying slightly as u look back and forth between the objects and the screen.

“alright. 4,890 yen please!” GOD he hated how expensive it was, that’s almost all his weekly allowance but bc it’s u and ur voice saying it it’s kinda ok

“mm, ok.” he still has his eyes on you while he takes out his wallet and puts it on the counter.

yes

his wallet, not the money

“...” “...”

“excuse me, sir. this is...”

he almost slaps his face wtf he’s so embarrassed.

“s-sorry. just a little absent minded after practice.” he starts pulling out his cash.

“it’s fine! i know how hard you guys practice!” you smile while performing the rest of the transaction and pass him his big bag of goods. “good luck for nationals, ginjima-kun!”

he almost runs out of the store and is about to fight the rest of the 2nd years for watching and (suna) recording

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 4 years ago

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Grunge-Metal Geralt

Hi, im fucking trash for the idea of Geralt being the front man for a Five Finger Death Punch type band and my brain wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it. This music genre is my bread and butter and I think Geralt’s repressed but highly emotional ass would fit right in. Yes im using another Hozier song, no i dont wanna hear anything about it. I’m a basic bitch and ive made my peace with it

Warnings: i honestly have no idea, its a little horny, little emotional, but theres no actual character interaction?, its at a concert venue? idk yall.

_________________________

Jaskier was… out of his comfort zone.

It’s not that he didn’t like the grunge-metal music, he just hadn’t listened to much and he was not used to the energy. People were yelling and screaming and the opener hadn’t even come on yet. He didn’t feel unsafe, far from it. Several people had checked to see if he was okay, seeing as he was the only person in the entire arena wearing a sweater that wasn't ripped or faded to hell. It was just a far cry from the shows he was used to.

He played folky-blues. This was nothing like his shows.

When the lights went down the crowd was deafening, all moving as one to rush the front of the floor, not giving a single fuck about tickets.

The openers were exciting, and Jaskier was surprised by some of the concepts and messages behind the music. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all and he found himself searching them up on Spotify to listen later.

Then came The Witchers.

Eskel and Lambert made their energetic entrance, followed by Aiden calmly walking to his drums and sitting as if he were walking into a college class. But Geralt was nowhere in sight. The one person Jaskier had actually come to see.

He’d seen a video clip from a previous concert where they covered one of his songs, and he was praying they’d do it again. It was lovely in a haunting-almost-threatening way, and the expression in Geralt’s posture alone was enthralling. He had to see it live.

But Geralt was still absent as the band started to build a song. First Aiden with the beat, then Eskel’s bass, then Lambert with a melody on his electric guitar. It built and built and built to a fever pitch, taking the crowd with it. People were already jumping and screeching. Jaskier had to stand on his seat to see the stage clearly.

Geralt’s voice echoed through the venue, low and closer to a growl than singing, but he was still nowhere to be seen.

Jaskier thought he’d been prepared, but his whole body was covered in goosebumps. He briefly wondered if this was what his friends were feeling when they listened to ASMR.

Geralt remained hidden for the whole first verse, getting the crowd even more excited than Jaskier thought possible, only for the band to go completely silent for a whole measure. When the crowd's screams reached their absolute loudest, Geralt dropped from on top of one of the jumbotrons, landing on one of the horse-sized speakers before launching into the chorus.

Oh fuck, he was even more beautiful in person.

He was… well he was a beast of a man. Jaskier really didn’t have another word for the way his muscles bulged and how lithe and powerful he looked springing from the speaker to join his bandmates on the main stage. His thighs filled out his black, tattered jeans and there were clear faded spots where his muscles strained the fabric too often. The thin black tank he wore did nothing but pretend the man was semi-modest. It was so tight, the only thing left up to the imagination was tan lines and the color of his nipple piercings.

Jaskier was most entranced by his long, white, wavy hair falling past his shoulders. As the show continued and he started to sweat, a lot, it got curlier and curlier at the root. Jaskier wanted to give him a mask and some curl cream, but only after a, uhm, rough night of getting to know each other. He’d heard rumors about Geralt from hitting arenas not long after they’d left. He was quite sure they’d have a great time.

As he focused on the lyrics more and more, he was more inclined to want to wrap Geralt up in a hug and worship every part of him until he felt whole again.

Either he’d been shown the shitty side of the genre, or The Witchers were exceptions to the rule of content. Jaskier was almost moved to tears a few different times.

Finally, about an hour into Jaskier mindlessly feasting his eyes on the front man, Geralt leapt onto another speaker and sat down, breathing hard and grinning from ear to ear.

“You still with us?”

The unholy screech from the crowd left no doubt they were just as excited, if not more so, than when they’d arrived.

“Good! Good..” he trailed off, chuckling as he lowered the mic to take a breath, “We’re gonna slow it down for a minute,” he leaned forward and held the mic away as Eskel shouted something up at him to which he laughed and flipped him off.

“As I was saying, we’re gonna yearn for a minute or two and do a cover. Song by Jaskier called ‘Talk’.”

The crowd lost their shit again, various pride flags popping up throughout the stands.

Geralt chuckled and raised his combat boot, showing off the bi flag colored treads, earning another round of screams. If this is what the grunge-metal scene was like, Jaskier had been missing out his entire life. Sure his fans were sweet and supportive and loving when he’d come out. But this was electric and feral and completely addictive.

Lambert struck the opening chord to Jaskier’s song and the crowd settled to a gentle hum, setting the tone immediately, as if they all knew exactly what was coming.

Geralt closed his eyes as he tapped his thigh with one finger, keeping time before his rumbling baritone hit Jaskier like a freight train.

“I’d be the voice that urged Orpheus when her body was found…”

Jaskier could have collapsed right there. He knew he was staring like a lovesick idiot, but hell, everyone around him was too. When the chorus hit and Eskel came in with a heavy bass line he nearly fell off his chair. Geralt’s intensity raised with the addition of the backup but he didn’t move. He stayed seated, swaying slightly, with his eyes closed as he crooned out the words Jaskier had sobbed as he wrote, broken hearted and miserable.

It was surreal.

Sure he’d seen other covers. Sure they’d been lovely. But he wanted to listen to this and only this as he fell asleep for the rest of his life. He’d never play it again if he could only hear it one more time.

After the last verse Lambert launched into a guitar solo while Geralt jumped off the speaker and meandered to the center of the stage to slot his mic back in it’s stand. He gripped it like a lifeline when Lambert held one last note for as long as his instrument would allow and only started singing the last chorus when it was almost silent.

“I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do

So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we could do

So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you”

His expression looked hopeless and utterly desperate as he crooned out the last two lines. He let his hair fall to cover his face and Jaskier could just barely hear his panting breath over the sound system as the crowd exploded. Geralt tipped his head back and took two deep breaths before straightening up and getting on with the show but Jaskier was stuck.

He was vaguely aware of someone taking a picture of him, but he really couldn’t care less. The fact that Geralt moved right on to a song called ‘Burn Motherfucker Burn’ didn’t matter either.

Jaskier jumped down from his arena seat, whipping out his phone and sending the band a tweet, because apparently that’s what musicians did now?

“Record it. Please. It’s either that or sing me to sleep every night. You choose.”

He stayed for the rest of the show and walked to his car in a haze. Before he backed out of his spot he checked his phone like always and his heart nearly stopped at the two top notifications.

One public reply: “Both? -G”

And one direct message: “If you’re still here and want to grab a drink, I’m just backstage.”

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chocominnie · 4 years ago

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Can you trust me? | knj

⇢ pairing: namjoon x reader (idol! Namjoon)

⇢ genre: Angst because Namjoon may or may not be an asshole about important things but also fluff because of sweet-talking

⇢ word count: 3k

⇢ warnings: Arguements but honestly thats it because the rest if fluff lmao.

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Summary: Namjoon keeps making excuses of not meeting up with you and given that you guys have been having fall outs recently, things are about to be put on the line. Will you guys break up? Or will you stay together? Can you trust him..

You have reached the voice mailbox of-

You shake your head lightly as tears feel the brim of your eyes. This is the third time today. You knew that in this relationship with Namjoon would mean that he wouldn’t always have time for you. But for him to not even give you a quick text or just even answer his phone is absurd. You’ve been talking about this meet-up for the past two weeks. Although he is mostly busy majority of the times, a dinner for one night surely wouldn’t affect his schedule right?

Especially with all the things going on between you and him. This date tonight would of approached everything that has been happening. The arguments you guys have are just nerve wracking. Especially when he argued with you for being clumsy because you had spilled fruit juice in his studio.. on the wooden floor. You just didn’t get how it would be a big deal as it was not carpet so an easy clean up. At the end of the day, you guys knew how to get on each others bad side and that’s not good at all.

So here you are now, dressed in an elegant black dress with that Swarovski crystal bracelet he gave you for your 1 year annivesary. Atleast, that’s when he actually gave a fuck about the relationship. Actually, you can’t even count the amount of excuses he’s made within the past months to not spend time with you. The last time it was because he was washing clothes and didn’t have any to wear right now. In which you had called bullshit because he has more clothes than anybody could ever.

Needless to say, you had ignored his calls and texts for two days to give him a piece of your mind. Namjoon wasn’t the type to over-react on such things so it wasn’t a win situation for you. Instead he sent you some of your favorite chocolates and flowers as an apology as you weren’t speaking to him. Yes, you gave in because who wouldn’t over the dozen of roses and Switzerland made chocolate?

This time is something different though.

The waitress returns with a bottle of champagne with a bucket of ice in her hands, and while she sets it down, you quickly wipe the stray tears away and force a smile. You didn’t even notice they were there before.

‘‘ It seems as though my significant other..” You take the napkin from your lap and throw it on the table. “ Will not be joining me today. I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

The poor waitress had been waiting for you to order your food for an hour now. You’d kept insisting to wait because Namjoon would’ve been there any minute. Turns out you were very wrong.

She smiles softly, popping the cork off the bottle and pouring a glass for you. ‘‘Shall I give you the bill then?’‘

As if you would be the one paying for this, when he had broke his promise for you. Broken promises are a thing you hated and he knew that. Putting this on his tab wouldn’t bother him with your petty little antics. The boy is a millionaire, something like this doesn’t even make a dent. Somehow though, you wanted to pay him back for not even showing up.

‘‘Put it on Kim Namjoon’s tab. He’ll be the one paying for this.’‘ You mumble to the young girl. The girl nods her head and pulls out the tab and hands it to you.

You sign your signature on it, and place a good thousand dollar tip on it. The feeling of satisfaction soothes you. He’d surely be paying for his time away, and wasting this waitress’ time. You hand it back to her, waiting for her reaction to the amount. Sure enough she doubled back to you when she realized how much was on the tab.

“ Ma’m? You added two extra zer-”

“ My date wasted your time love. He’s deeply sorry for it. Do something good with the money yeah?” As if the sinister smirk to yourself wasn’t enough, you quickly get up from the table and thank her again before heading to the exit.

The taste of the sweet yet tangy wine soothes the emotions flowing through you right now. Kim Namjoon. A guy who cancels dates a lot. A guy who does not keep his promise.

The only place you knew he would be at rather than his apartment would be at the BigHit building in his studio. He’s always there rather it be snowing or sunny outside he’s just.. there. It always astonishes you how one can just lock himself in a room for hours. What is it about him and doing that? Last time you paid a visit here Namjoon was eating the dinner he ordered in the room, instead of coming over to your house as he promised.

You punch in the code to the brand new building and a charming sound lets you know you may enter. You smile at the two security guards who give a slight smile then back to the blank expression towards the outside world.

Your heels click against the cold tile making your way over to the receptionist. The air smells fresh, as if someone had just cleaned the room again. The receptionist politely stands up quickly and greets you with a smile and a slight bow of her head.

“ Miss Yn, how may I assist you today?” Her eyes are warm and bright, along with her small smile at you. You wish you could feel happy in this current situation right now.

“Is Namjoon in his studio again.”

‘‘ Yes Ma’m should I tell him that you are coming in?’‘ She says, smoothing her skirt out before sitting back down about to grab the phone.

You immediately shake your head no. Since he doesn’t like showing up and canceling dates he doesn’t need to know anything at all.

You force a fake smile upon yourself to please her. ‘‘No. It’s a surprise since we have not had the time to see each other in a while.’‘ Oh yes, a surpise it will be.

She nods her head, ‘‘ Yes ma’m. Have a nice night with him.’‘

You say your goodbyes to each other and you go your separate way down the hallway of studios. Each door standing out in it’s own way makes you smile.

Mang Gae Deok Room

Hope world

Golden Closet

Genius Lab

And finally, Mon Studio.

You fluff your hair a little bit before turning the corner to the secluded area. But something takes you by surprise, it makes you tense up. Eyes watering and a little whimper chokes out of you. So this is what he’s been doing. This is what he’s been up to for the past weeks.

Its as if almost you feel your heart stop beating for a mere second. As if the blood in your veins went cold. As if what you’re seeing right now is only your imagination but in reality it is not.

There he is, sitting in his chair while a female takes it upon herself to casually take a seat on his desk, smiling and laughing and all. The pain in your heart makes it hard for you to keep looking. Sure, you guys argue, but ditching plans to do whatever it is with a girl is a low blow. That’s all you can take. That’s all you can manage to see right before he turns to look at you in complete and utter shock. There is no stopping the flow of the tears coming down your warm cheeks.

You look down at the boxed up food you had bought him and the bottle of wine that you had taken then back up at the door. Raising the box in the air, you throw it against the window making the food splatter everywhere leaving a mess. The two inside jump at your actions, but you ignore them and just walk away with utter disbelief.

Foot steps and yelling are heard behind you but you don’t stop. You continue walking, but then speeding up your pace passing the receptionist, who is confused yet concerned, and pass the two security guards with no expression.

Running to the open, vacant elevator you quickly wipe your tears and repeatedly abuse the close button to keep Namjoon from joining you. The image of him you get just before the door closes, is him running attempting to get the elevator door to open. You make sure to make eye contact with him just so he can see your pain.

You sniffle heavily while hanging your head low walking to your apartment. You could understand if it was one of the boys in the recording room. It doesn’t look like a great situation, but the girl did seem comfortable enough with him to sit on his desk. So that only leads you to think about how long has she been around him. The thoughts barricade your mind and before you know it you are face to face with someone standing directly on your doormat.

You dont bother to look up already knowing that body structure. Instead you try and shove past him to unlock your home, but there’s no use because next thing you know you’re being held by your upper arms standing in-front of him.

‘‘ Namjoon I don’t want to fucking talk about it.’’ You grumble, shoveling yourself out his arms quick enough to unlock your apartment enough for you to slide through and slam shut.

Knocks are loud on your door to cause some neighbors to wonder. Let them wonder they can scold him themselves for causing so much of a scene.

‘‘ Yn im coming in.’‘ He yells through the door.

You roll your eyes and stand a few feet from the door with your arms crossed on your chest. The door gives a charm letting him know the pin-code was correct. He shuffles in lightly through the door and closes it gently behind him. You stand there waiting for his explanation as you slowly walk towards him.

‘‘ Yn-’‘

Smack!

It felt good for your hand to connect with his cheek. How dare he disrespect the relationship of you two like this?

Namjoon holds his now sore, red cheek and gives you a serious look, ‘’ That was unnecessary. Let me fuckin expl-’’

Smack!.

Your nose flared in and out as you breathe heavily with your eyebrows furrowed in anger. ‘’ Another woman Kim Namjoon? You didn’t show up to our date because you were doing god knows what with another woman?”

Namjoon bites his lip hard as his eyes narrow, ‘’ Stop fucking smacking me. Let me got damn explain you brat!’’ He yells, pushing you to against the wall.

Your strength towards him was no match. You try to run away but he pins you back onto the wall. You were useless at this point.

‘‘ What’s your problem! Calm down!’‘ He semi-yells, grabbing your face to make you look at him. You look at him, you look him dead straight in the eyes with anger all over you.

‘‘ Shut up. Shut the fuck up Namjoon. I planned the date to talk about everything happening but you don’t show up? Instead you were chatting it up with another girl.” You pause, ripping your arms away from him. “ That’s not a good look for you.”

Namjoon steps back, scoffing in disbelief. That only pisses you off even more, but you decide that it had been enough smacking him for the night. ‘‘ I wasn’t cheating if you think that. You and I both know I wouldn’t do that, right?”

You glare at him, ‘’I don’t know you fucking tell me.’’

That one single sentence sets him off. Trust is something you two really try to have with each-other but lately that’s been all over the place. Questioning his loyalty to him is like a stab in the back with a sharp, piercing knife. Namjoon puts his hands on his head in shock while walking towards the kitchen. You follow him because the last thing he was going to do to you, is ignore the entire fucking conversation.

The silence is rough. You sit yourself down on one of the island chairs as you watch him pour himself a glass of wine. The one you had bought from the restaurant. The way his jaw locks with a serious pout on his face lets you know, he has some choice words to say. That sharp tongue is just holding it in.

But did you over-react? Perhaps you did? Either way, it wasn’t a great scene to walk in on. Your man and another woman alone in his studio. You can’t help but to have reacted that way. Wouldn’t any other person would? It’s not that she was there, it was the way she was very comfortable around Namjoon to the point of doing what she did. She was also a person you had never met.

Namjoon puts the tip of the glass to his lips, making direct eye contact with you as he takes a long sip of wine. You roll your eyes at his dramatic action.

He clears his throat, ‘‘ Im still young. I have female friends and I have male friends. I would love to have time with them before you start barking up my ass.”

Barking up his ass?

‘‘ So you’re saying that all you were doing was having fun with her cause you’re still got damn young huh? Is that what i’m hearing Namjoon?’‘ That rage begins in your stomach again. Simmering in you like boiling water.

You continue, “ It’s like you just don’t care you left me at the fucking restaurant looking stupid right?”

‘‘ No I wasn’t having fun with her. You ran out without letting me explain, instead you were all dramatic throwing fucking food at my windows.” The sound of the glass clinking against the counter-top is sharp. You wince at the sound of it.

Maybe you did over-react. But in your defense, you still had no idea who the girl was.

“Yn, how childish can you be right now? Did you ever think that me, one of the members of a worldwide known boy-group will be busy? Hmm? Yes, I should of told you that I couldn’t make it beforehand. I honestly thought I would be able to join you, but I overlooked my schedule wrong. That is my fault. The girl came because she was scheduled to work on our collaboration tonight with me.”

Oh gosh. The guilt takes over your body all at once. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. You really outdid yourself now. During all your rage and tantrum about this situation, you had failed to realize that you had indeed signed up to live this type of relationship with him. Of course he’d be busy, he’s an idol. Not once did you take his feelings and thoughts into consideration this entire time.

“ I don’t know Yn, I don’t know if we can continue our relationship together. You and I seem to be clashing a lot now-a-days. You questioning my loyalty really hurt me. We should think about taking a break, or ending things.”

Tears well in your eyes but you just let them fall. Those words you never wanted to hear ever. Sure couples clash with each-other, but isn’t that what makes them stronger? It’d be One year and a half down the drain if things were to go south now. Namjoon is a sweet guy, but your recent over-reacting scenes is becoming too much for him.

There goes that silence again. You two just sit there, not saying a word. The tension is thick as wood. This isn’t right. This won’t be right. Th emotions in you are running high. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Things were only said in the heat of the moment. You were tired of him always canceling and didn’t even bother to let him explain. This could of been handled better.

“ I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been wanting to spend time with you and you keep canceling on me Namjoon..”

He sighs, placing his now finished glass of wine in the sink. He runs his hands in his hair shaking his head again. “ I’m sorry for that. I should do a better job at telling you my schedule.”

It still hurts though. The way he said those words without hesitation. “ Do you.. still want us to take a break after this?”

“ I think that now that we understand each other a little more, we can work on being better together and not seperate.”

You’re happy to hear those words. Namjoon comes from behind the counter straight towards you where you were now standing beside the chair you were once sitting in. His arms snake around you and pull you into his chest, hugging you tightly. You sink into him, nuzzling your head into him with a small sigh.

“ I don’t like when we fight like this. You know I love you right? So much. So, so, much.” He whispers down to you. You nod your head in agreement. It’s something about being in his arms that soothe you.

You feel so complete with just the presence of him. He makes you happy, as you do him. Namjoon is understanding, caring, kind, and so much more to you. He was there for you on your worst days, and was there on your best days.

He plants a small kiss on your forehead, “ Let’s become better together yn. I want big plans for us in the future, and I don’t want to lose you.”

“ I want that for us too. I love you so much Namjoon. Even when things are bad for us, I care a lot about you.”

The butterflies in your stomach settle. Being in Namjoons arms is what home feels like to you. You’re secure and safe.

‘‘ Can you trust me next time? I promise from now on I will tell you in advance if I cannot participate instead of just leaving you wondering.‘

You nod your head, not caring about what he said but only caring about his embrace right now. The only thing you care about att he moment is him and his understanding.

‘‘ Can you trust me?’‘

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honeymyheaven · 4 years ago

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I see that you write for record of ragnarok👀 can i request for Poseidon? A hc of their relationship with fem!reader? I started reading this manga last night from 1 to 5am and damn im weak for Poseidon 🗿

YES !! OMG this request makes me so so happy !! aaaa im gonna split this up in three parts because i think the dynamic is different depending on whether the reader is a goddess, half-goddess or human so im gonna write three separate things thank you sm for this request !!! also pls keep in mind poseidon is very fickle and not a very good God...he literally killed his own brother.

!!very mild nsfw !!

Goddess!reader

very guarded at first

you would definitely have to make the first move and even then it would be hard to make proper conversation

as he starts falling, he wouldn't really be able to admit it because he doesn't like being vulnerable

the only way you would know he views you differently is when you meet his gaze and the faintest of smiles crosses his face

even when entering a relationship, he comes across as rather cold, unsure of how to properly showcase his emotions

he likes showing he cares through small gifts and trips to places you didn't even know existed

veeerrry obsessive and possessive...borderline toxicly so

doesn't tolerate other gods or creatures making any sort of advances towards you, will decimate them the second they try

gets really upset if sees you pay what he considers to be special attention to others, and will go cold towards you for some time

lots of reassurance and apologies needed

is generally very gentle in his approach to you and it shows in the way he is in bed

will caress you carefully, take care not to leave any significant marks on your pristine skin

kisses you very often and presses his forehead against yours

he's not an easy lover to have

Half-goddess / nymph! reader

doesn't hold you in very high regard, only holding some sort of vague tolerance for you because of the deity blood you have

if you approach him first there's a 50-50 chance he'll either make some sort of short conversation or tell you to scram before he gets angry...it'll depend on his mood

but it will make him be curious of you and observe you for a while and if you pique his interest enough he might just approach you first

Once he falls for you it'll be double as hard for him to admit that and he'll struggle with his superiority complex quite a bit

the relationship will probably advance slowly, with his affection being built with each interaction

also possessive and gets very heated if he sees you frolicking with humans, will strike them down the second they have the 'audacity' to address you casually

at the same time, he does tell you to mind your place when talking to another God(the same goes for if you were human)

he would prefer it if you went to live with him but he allows you the freedom of choice

loves having his head in your lap but will never admit it

spoils you with necklaces and jewelry and extravagant gifts because as a minor deity "there's no way you've seen such luxury"

his mood will influence the way he behaves in bed quite a bit

sometimes hes oh so gentle and caring, careful of the way your body tangles with his, holding your head into his chest after and kissing the top of your head

but if he's had a very bad day, he has no problems using you to unwind, gripping your hips and biting down on your lower lip -> will apologise after and kiss your forehead

Human!reader

DO. NOT. APPROACH.HIM.FIRST

he will either kill you for the insolence shown by a mortal or if he's in a pleasant mood will allow you to live just this once

the relationship most probably starts off sexual and you would most probably have to be one of his worshippers because there's no way he would take just any human...his pride wouldn't allow him

youre probably just one of the many worshippers he uses to destress after a bad encounter with one of his siblings

until you'd reach out and hold his face in your hands while he's thrusting into you and ask why he always looks so lonely

it'll take him aback, he'll frown and tell you to mind your place, that you're lucky he's pleased with your body

"if it helps you...im yours to use."

his lips would purse into a thin line and pull you into him with more force "i dont need some filthy human's permission, im going to use you how i please anyway."

after that however he comes to you more often, even appears to you while you're alone on the beach

eventually you'd be the only one he comes to for destressing

will start being addicted to just laying his head in your lap and having your hands massage his scalp

will never admit out loud that he's fallen for you or that he loves until maybe several years into the relationship

the only way you'd know is when he takes you away to his palace

there will be no choice, you will be living with him now

won't defend you in front of other deities until they seriously cross they line after which he'd simply glare at them and tell them to mind their business

lots and lots of expensive dresses and jewelry and extravagant underwater shows and trips because he wants to showcase his grandeour

it just feeds his ego okay

when he's angry he can get toxic and will be mean until over time he learns to control himself a bit

but again you're just a puny human, he can't really fall for you so fast it'll take years

#Hope YOU LIKED AAA #poseidon x reader #xreader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #shuumatsu no valkyrie poseidon #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #poseidon record of ragnarok #poseidon

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noelliza · 4 years ago

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Hi, so it’s 1am and as one does, I just rewatched the dead poets society scene where Neil insists that Todd needs to participate in the meetings more aka one of the top 10 gayest scenes in cinema history. So, I decided to analyze this a bit as a way to procrastinate my homework

So first off, this face he made right here just really stood out to me for the first time. Todd had said “I’m not like you,” saying he’s not a leader like Neil, and Neil responded with “but you could be!” And Todd is about to protest, ready to disagree, but then he pauses with this face, and i feel like for a split second he thought “maybe i could be a leader though? If Neil believes that i could... right?” Because if Neil, the one person everyone always listens to, insists that Todd has that potential, then maybe he really could do it. But then he snaps out of it and says “i dont know,” which also sounded significant to me, because i realized that he could have said no, that he didn’t believe he could. I think that this is when Neil first starts to get through to him, because instead of going on to reject the notion, Todd just diverts to a different point to avoid the subject. He’s unable to even think of a reason against that point. I think this is when he considers the possibility of being a leader one day, even if only briefly, which i think is still important because it’s a start!

When Neil refuses to “butt out” (“no❤️”), he looks truly shocked for a moment. Todd was probably expecting neil to just give up on him like everyone else in his life. His parents always put their attention towards Jeffrey since he was the more successful son, so he’s not used to anyone ever focusing on him or pushing him to be better. He grew up hidden under Jeffrey’s shadow, knowing he’ll never compare to him no matter what he does. So inevitably he’s accepted this, becoming comfortable with blending in amongst the crowd, unnoticed. And here comes neil, barging into his life, looking Todd straight in the eye and refusing to allow Todd hide himself any longer. It shows how much Neil truly wants him to be more involved in the dps, because he knows that he has a lot to contribute to the group and that Todd has the potential to grow intro a leader. Neil is the first one to really see Todd, and he wants the poets to experience the hidden wonderful parts of him as well (same neil, same). He just wants Todd to feel part of the group rather than on the outside looking in, because he’s Neil’s boyfriend, and i feel like when Neil sees all his friends having a good time, it makes him happy (can i just say how much i love how inclusive Neil is with all the poets? Making everyone in the group feel welcome, like even Cameron by including him in the study group, but i digress) It’s the first time anyone has shown their willingness to support him and have his back, so for a moment, Todd is left speechless, the objection prepared in his mind coming to a halt. Because he clearly wasn’t expecting neil to oppose that so intensely, determined to help Todd come out of his shell. I feel like Todd has become so used to being alone and having to deal with his challenges by himself that the idea of someone like Neil believing in him and willing to be there for him seems improbable to him. It’s also the moment when he realizes how much Neil really cares about him, and how he isn’t faking his friendly behavior. He makes a point to always invite him to their study sessions, he accommodates for him when he’s clearly anxious or hesitant about something, and he never judges Todd for wanting his space or alone time. But until now, Todd didn’t really comprehend how thoughtful and considerate Neil’s actions were, because for him, this behavior is unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.

I mean look at this face and tell me neil isn’t willing to go to the ends of the earth for this boy. He’s all in for todd no matter what now, and Todd is finally starting to understand that. (Queue nicki minaj clip: “you can’t get rid of me b***h!!”)

Bonus: ✨flirting 101 with Neil Perry✨ - steal your crush’s poetry so they’ll chase you around your tiny dorm room and inevitably touch you as they try to reach for the poem. Your crush smashing you against the wall is guaranteed or your money back. Pro tip: call them Walt Whitman

Also, i love how much fun Todd is having here. Neil really went “bet.” and made Todd feel more included in less than five minutes. If this doesn’t tell you that they’re soulmates then idk what will

Lastly, i gotta show my appreciation for the random boy who joined in to play the recorder, he was the cherry on top of this amazing scene.

#dead poets society #todd anderson #neil perry #anderperry #im not even sure if this is remotely coherent #im very sleep deprived #did i overanalyze this? probably #but here we are lol #i also didnt expect this to be so long whoops #also i realized it was getting sad so i made the last part more happy #because todd and neil deserve all the happiness in the world #and if this has been done already im so sorry!

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random-mha-thoughts · 5 years ago

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Baby (Bakugou x Reader)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Anon requested: “Hiii!! I jus wanna say ur writing is one of the best I've read so far (and I've read a lot). It's been a while since I've read a oneshot that made me feel tingles (u know why I mean right, it's hard to explain 😅) anyway jus wanna say I love ur writing!! Also, if u don't mind I'd like to request a fluff with bakugou where he gets his wisdom teeth removed and he just becomes the softest thing everrrrr! :) if ur not taking requests rn I dont mind if u skip this one. Adios ;)"

Thanks for the kind words and the request anon! I hope you like it~

Genre: Floof. Pure, plotless floof

Word count: 973

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog @bunnythepipsqueak

a/n: Today was tiring as hell. I got up at 7:30 to study for my exam at 1 pm and I had a 2 hour lecture to go over after that. I feel like I was studying for a good 10 hours today alone and I was already tired this entire week. And it's only Wednesday... Which is why I couldn't wait to write this! I was in dire need of some plain, quick, simple, plotless floof, so I’m happy I had this request to fill next. I hope you guys out there are in a good mental state as the semester is wrapping up, and if not I hope this cheered you up a bit!

Also (I’m a few days late but still) Ramadan Mubarak to my muslim readers/followers! I wish you an easy fast, willpower, and spirituality in the following month. You got this! I’ll also try to include NSFR warnings if anyone wants? I know swearing and spicy stuff aren’t allowed, but I’m not 100% sure about the fluffy stuff so let me know!

"This way, Katsuki, let's go." I gently pull my boyfriend down the street, capturing his arm in mine to balance his wobbly gait.

He mumbles something incoherent and leans into me. "We going home now?"

"Yup, I already picked up your medication. Are you keeping that ice pack on your face?"

"Yeeees," he groans. Katsuki usually hates it when I mother him, but today he really needed it. Poor guy was scared of having his wisdom teeth removed and didn't trust anyone else to accompany him. It's kind of endearing, especially since he's become such a giant, clumsy mess now. "You're becoming my mom."

"Well, you are acting like a lost child right now, who else is gonna take care of you?" I squeeze his hand reassuringly.

He hums in response before leaning onto me, "I guess I'm really lucky then." Removing the ice pack, he pokes his cheek. "Can you kiss it better?"

I blink, completely floored by his request. I know the anesthesia has its effects on people, but it seems it makes Katsuki way more soft and needy than usual.

Not that I'm complaining.

I stand on my toes and peck his cold cheek. "Is it better now?"

"Mmm, I'll probably need another dose in an hour," he encircles both of his arms around one of mine, "I'll let you know how the pain is."

Gosh, he's just gonna be adorable for the rest of the day, isn't he? "Should I drop you home or do you want to rest at my place?"

Katsuki's arms crawl over to envelop my torso from behind. "Your place, of course," he half giggles, his breath tickling my ear.

I chuckle at his behavior, directing us towards the nearest station. I'm definitely gonna enjoy this. A small part of me almost wants to record him, but I'd rather just enjoy these few moments I have of him acting this way. I'm too nice to embarrass him like that.

Since it's the middle of the day during the week, the station and the train seats are mostly empty. Katsuki gets comfortable, sprawling his legs across the cold bench and resting his head on my lap. He keeps one of his hands messily entwined with mine and lets me use my free hand to play with his hair. I gaze down at him, smiling to myself. Katsuki being soft and lovable like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Of course I know he loves me already, but to see him without the whole harsh persona is definitely something else. The blooming warmth stirs me to press a soft kiss on his forehead. My little Katsu.

He opens his eyes to stare up at me, asking out of the blue, "Do I look or sound weird?"

The childish innocence he asks the question with makes me chuckle. "Not at all, babe."

His crimson orbs continue boring into mine for a moment, just holding my attention, before he reaches up and brings my head down to kiss his lips. The motion takes me by surprise since he's not the type to take PDA this far in public. The heat rushes to my cheeks, and I'm eternally grateful that this car is almost empty, and the few people here with us are busy fiddling with their phones.

"You missed, dummy," Katsuki beams before closing his eyes again.

My heart thumps. He's so adorable sometimes. His toothy smile was just the right amount of cute and loving, the rarest smile I've seen only once before. I want to melt into a puddle and pinch his cheeks

You big dork. I continue threading my fingers into his hair, the rattling of the train relaxing the tired boy.

Once we arrive at my apartment, Katsuki shrugs out of his jacket and shoes and situates himself under my kotatsu, not even bothering to turn it on; he just grabbed one of the long cushions, stuck it under his body, and knocked himself onto his side. As I'm still removing my outer clothes, he reaches one arm out and makes grabbing motions. "Babe, come lay with me," he practically whines out.

Is he pouting? I want to laugh at his needy behavior, but I'll admit I want to cuddle with him too. After the procedure he's been through and the pain he's going to experience in the next few days, he deserves all the hugs he wants. Who am I to deny him? I plug the wire in and turn the switch on before lifting the blanket up and squirming underneath. Without wasting any time, Katsuki pulls my body flush into his chest, wiggling both of us farther underneath.

The needy boy lets out a satisfied sigh as the blanket starts heating up. His head pulls back to look down at me, hooded scarlet eyes trying not to close as they brim with affection. "You're my favorite." His thumb at my cheek softly rubs at my skin.

I close my eyes and nuzzle his hand. "Your favorite what?"

"Anything and everything." He plants a kiss on top of my head. "You're just my favorite thing."

Despite the fresh wave of warm tingles humming through me, I tease him, "So I'm a thing now?"

Instead of groaning like he would under normal circumstances, he crushes me closer to his body. "Yeah, you're my teddy bear now, and you're not going anywhere for the rest of the day."

"But what if it gets really hot under here, Katsu?"

"Nope, you're still staying," he shakes his head like a stubborn kid, his voice already drooping into sleep before he yawns. "You have to cuddle all my pain away."

As if I need a reason to cuddle you all day, silly. My hand pats his back in a steady rhythm. "Whatever you say, my baby Katsu."

#Bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou scenario #gender neutral reader #mha bakugou #bnha bakugou #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

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carcinized · 3 years ago

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skipping records and eternity

~1k words | ao3

first of a series if people like it? i'd love to write more limbos...

please reblog if you like this it helps me a lot :DD

Tubbo stared into the unforgiving blizzard outside the cave. This was normal. A part of his morning routine, in fact. Staring out at the storm, wishing it would go away but knowing that would never happen; at least, not as long as he was in Limbo. But no one escaped Limbo. He’d thought Tommy had once, but Tommy was beside him now, so that couldn’t be true.

To his back was a hearth, wisps of people gathered around it. Tubbo had tried to reach them hundreds of thousands of times, probably, and he knew by now he couldn’t. It was like being in a dream, trying to reach the people around the fire. Either he was so slow he stopped moving or all of a sudden he was back where he started in a flawless loop.

Sometimes the figures huddled together, whispering, and occasionally looking back at Tubbo with glowing eyes, making Tubbo’s skin crawl. Sometimes the shadows shaped themselves into a certain tall enderman Tubbo knew all too well, or a regal figure with familiar sunglasses, or a happy, flailing child, or a tall figure with a barely distinguishable red and blue uniform. But despite it all, trying wasn’t worth the pain of not making it back, not even for family. Not anymore.

Tubbo sighed and internally scoffed, neverendingly surprised to be unable to hear his own sigh. Even after all this time, he hadn’t adjusted to being deaf. Or maybe he wasn’t deaf; maybe his Limbo just had no sound. It would make sense, after all. A world without sound, and especially music, was hell, in Tubbo’s opinion.

He shook his head to clear himself of the depressing thoughts. It was time to start his day. Tubbo got to his feet, taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves. Just another day in hell. Could be worse, right?

The light of the fire behind him flickered and a shadow of a figure with horns passed through it before disappearing eerily from the light of the flame. Tubbo spun around to look back at it, unwelcome hope flooding his limbs, but the shadow had already merged back with the others. He didn’t try to follow.

The next part of Tubbo’s repetitive morning was underway. The days were so similar Tubbo could no longer distinguish his memories of yesterday from that of today, or even what he thought might have been years ago. It seemed Tommy had spotted someone he wanted to see in the flames, because he was currently sprinting in an infinite route towards the fire, reappearing back to the edge of the cave still with his momentum.

“You idiot! It’s never going to work!” Tubbo called out pointlessly. “You’re never going to get in! …You’re never going to get in.”

Tommy attempted to get through one more time before he finally slowed, sitting down on the floor, visibly upset, mouth moving quickly. Tubbo couldn’t hear what he was saying, but, knowing Tommy, he was probably cussing more than a sailor could ever dream of.

Sighing, Tubbo sat down cross-legged beside Tommy. There was no point in talking, so he wrapped an arm around Tommy’s shoulders to try and comfort him. Them against the world, always.

“Come on, it’s that time of day,” Tubbo said, mostly to himself. He stood and offered Tommy a hand, which Tommy refused, opting to stand up on his own.

Tubbo moved on without comment, walking towards the other end of the cave, where he’d set up a workstation with an anvil. He had the infamous discs in his inventory, and always had since appearing in Limbo. However, every day when he played them in the jukebox they had been miraculously gifted, Tommy shook his head vehemently. And every day, Tubbo attempted to fix them.

He was handy, right? He was able to create nukes without so much as a blueprint. He should be able to repair two simple discs if he kept trying, even if he couldn’t hear them to check his progress. It seemed Tommy could, at least, considering he would always shake his head.

Sometimes Tommy tried to stop Tubbo from trying to fix them at all, probably to spare his time. But there was nothing better to do in Limbo, and maybe while trying to fix the discs Tubbo had fucked them up, but if he ever stopped trying he might never make them correctly. And he wanted to fix them, to fix them for Tommy, even if it seemed he never would. And, well, he needed to do something while he was stuck here for all eternity. Why not try and make it better with some music?

Tubbo made some finishing touches to the disc before picking it back up and walking towards the jukebox, ignoring Tommy’s protests. If Tubbo could do this, it would all be okay. They could sit together, shoulder to shoulder, and listen to the discs, and everything would be okay. Even if Tubbo wouldn’t be able to hear the music, that wasn’t what he really wanted, anyways.

Tubbo slipped the disc into the slot on top of the jukebox and turned to Tommy, whose violent headshakes had slowed down, more melancholy now than anything else. He met Tubbo’s eyes and shook his head once more.

Tubbo wanted to cry, but crying was stupid, so he simply took the irritating disc out of the jukebox. “Well, we still have another one to try to fix,” he mumbled around the burning in his throat. “Right, Tommy?”

Tommy didn’t look at him, hands reaching up to cover his ears instead.

Tubbo turned away once more, picking up the other disc.

Maybe, deep down, Tubbo knew it was fruitless. Maybe, deep down, he knew he’d never be able to fix them for Tommy. He couldn’t mend an attachment that didn’t exist. After all, these weren’t the discs, only emotionless carbon copies created specifically for this perfect little hell. But Tubbo would never stop trying to mend them, and mend things with his best friend, and trying to prove that he was worth it, that he could do something worthwhile. He would never stop; he knew that much. He supposed that was why they called it Limbo.

ty to @platytheplatypode for beta reading and helping with the title otherwise this would have not been titled </3

also literally tubbo is an unreliable narrator in this to some extent ask me what really happens here (or the symbolism i included bc its cool :]). thank you to @everydaybabbles for helping me figure out the limbo way back when (if you even remember?), i hope you dont mind being tagged but tysm youre literally the only reason this exists DFJDSLF

#i literally spent months on this PLEASEEE look at it its cool i swear #allyster writes #dsmp #mcyt #tubbo #c!tubbo #tommyinnit #limbo

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bethchapelsbonnet · 3 years ago

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I Dont remember if it Was on you're Ways to Tell ILY Prompt list but might I suggest a "I Choose you" Hournite One shot?

I didn't see you interact with the original submission I answered, so I included it here

I Choose You

All of the fuss that Beth went through to try to compile each and every piece of evidence that someone may need in order to get Rick the heck out of that place was simply... Well - it was actually exhausting, but she never realized until she was at the end of her days.

The database was always excellent and as the official Dr. Mid-Nite, she had access to even more information.

Not what she truly needed - to be able to actually speak to Rick. To assess how he was doing. To at least hold his hand, which.. she was conflicted about that one in particular. She didn't understand why that idea kept coming to her when she and Rick never actually really touched each other that way.

Casually - pats on the back or holding each other back in a fight, but nothing so intimate as hand holding. Maybe it was her renewed self confidence. She had chosen herself. And now, she was choosing Rick.

They didn't allow any of them to see him. He was currently being held at a juvenile center, assigned a caseworker and a child advocate attorney, with an ongoing investigation about his uncle and his home life. But, Beth found out the names of everyone involved in his case and she was sending them documents, school reports, and everything that she could scrape up to prove that Rick was in a dangerous household and had been abused and mistreated.

It was her hope that they would all see it was self defense and go easy on him. Courtney and Pat had tried to explain to her that Eclipso was controlling him. It wasn't self defense. It was just a terrible mind game.

Not too long ago, they were pressing her to accept murdering a bad guy… but suddenly, when it's THIS bad guy… who didn't even DIE, they were willing to accept Rick turning himself in and being put away? "It's what Rick wanted, to be held accountable.."

"He didn't DO it! It was Eclipso!" Beth had snapped at Courtney. Courtney's eyes went wide and she got quiet. Of course she knew that and she didn't deserve Beth being rude with her, either, but Beth was too frustrated to tell herself that at the moment and Rick wasn't around…

She called him anyway, as she stormed out.

"Rick!" She took a deep breath, "You don't deserve to be held responsible for something that you didn't do wrong!" She noticed Courtney in the corner of her eye and whispered, "There's nothing you need to be held accountable for and I'm working on helping you get out. Just… I hope you aren't too hard on yourself." She hung up and looked at Courtney.

"I watched him run around, hallucinating, breaking down as he was attacked by something that we couldn't see… it was like with Yolanda, only someone did get hurt. I didn't want to have to see that again and it wasn't easy to let Rick confess, but what else could we do? What would you have done differently?"

Beth wanted to say that she wouldn't have let him out of her sight, that she would have talked to him until he was back down to Earth.. but as a firm believer in herself, some part of her knew that Courtney didn't have that type of power. Beth was the one who could stop Rick in his tracks and make him think for a moment.

"What about when you see a dead 10 year old girl? Would you have been able to use your head in that moment and stop him from reacting?"

Beth sniffled and wiped her face, "If I was here, I know that I could have fixed this. I know that I could have talked him down. He listens to me. It's different with us. And with Eclipso… it's personal now."

Rick heard about an "adorable but incredibly annoying" girl who spoonfed a lot of information to his case worker and his advocate. They didn't have to describe her. He did initially automatically think Courtney, since that was who saw him last on the outside and that's who annoyed him more than any girl he knew…

But when they spoke about legal documents, school incidents and cases and studies of similar cases.. He knew that they meant Beth. A lot of her findings needed to be double checked by the proper authorities and his advocate would need to speak with a judge, but it was looking like Rick may be entitled to psychological treatment from years of abuse that resulted in him finally lashing back.

He wanted to argue with that, but in a way.. that felt like some type of hope and he couldn't say there wasn't truth in it. Whatever Beth had done, he finally felt some peace of mind, since coming here…

The court order to grant him a placement took shorter than he thought, even though it still felt super long. The Chapels weren't foster parents, but thanks to some… creative documentation on Beth's part, they were able to be listed as family friends to whom custody could be signed over.

He would be trying for emancipation, but in the meantime, he had a place to sleep and eat and stuff… and Beth was there.

"How did you manage to pull this off?" Rick wondered, more confused than grateful, but she didn't take it to heart. She smiled and tapped her goggles. "Of course…" he stared at his bags on the floor. "Did you get the full story?"

"I got Courtney and Pat's side of it. You don't have to tell me, but in your own time, if you want to, you can." She handed him some mail, "I filled out your paperwork and sent it in. You've gotten at least one response."

"My paperwork?"

She winced, "I totally trespassed into your car and home, scanning everything and looking for something to help me. I traced punched in walls, I took an inventory of the alcohol in there, you name it. I also found the forms that you had for college and financial aid. I took them with me, but also wondered what they were doing there. So I checked on cell phone records and saw that Miss Woods-" she rolled her eyes when she said her name. (She wasn't fond of how cruelly that woman had treated Rick, and she didn't mind saying so), "Had been there. I figured she was the one who gave those to you, went to pay her a visit and questioned her until she told me about what happened earlier. She had seen your uncle and he was belligerent and drinking. I told her that I would speak to your advocate in order to see if that was usable information. It was. She made for a very dependable character reference."

Rick looked stunned. He didn't know what to say, but eventually landed on, "Why am I at your house and not at Pat's? I don't even know your parents and they probably aren't pleased about what happened."

"Well, I believe that I've managed to do quite the PR campaign for you when I was making my rounds to see if anybody had recollection of witnessing your uncle be unkind to you. A lot of people have been quiet about things that they should have spoken up about… myself included.." she lowered her head, "I noticed bruises on you sometimes at lunch when we weren't friends and I guessed that they weren't from some school fight, otherwise, the school would know." She looked up at him and her eyes were brimming with tears, "All of us made choices to mind our business and just leave you to fend for yourself. Everybody's been feeling pretty guilty that it came to… that.."

She cleared her throat, "There's enough going on at Courtney's house, and Yolanda's isn't an option. I couldn't let you wind up at the group home. Artemis is there. The last time you two saw each other, you almost killed one another. I thought my home was the best choice. It's safe, there's just me here. My parents believed me when I vouched for you, so they would be acting like wardens or anything, and I just… I feel better knowing that if something happens, I'll be there."

He sat down on the guest bed and twiddled his thumbs, "That's just it. If something happens, I… I no longer have the hourglass. I won't be able to protect you fully."

"I can protect myself," she said, sitting next to him. "Just wait until you hear my Eclipso story."

"Your what?"

"He attacked me the same time that he attacked you…" Rick looked terrified as he checked her over for damages. "It's a long story, but I'm fine. It went very differently for me than it did for you." She looked sad for a moment. I think he must've known."

He was confused. Beth looked him in the eyes through her goggles, "That we protect each other. That you fight for me and I fight for you. I felt so victorious when I was able to take my goggles back from me and solidify my place on the team… the. I found out he had gotten to my Rick…"

His heart jumped in his chest and he stared at her. He reached for her goggles but she shook her head and he withdrew his hands. "It wasn't anything to do with you."

"No, but had I been there…"

"Then you could have gotten hurt or had to see me become the very kind of monster that I hate!"

She furrowed her eyebrows and she grabbed his hand, harder than she meant to, but that demanded his attention and he stared at her face, "If I had been there, you would've had the extra strength you needed to see through him. I wouldn't have let you fight. Please believe me when I say that I'm sure I could have talked some sense into you. I could have saved you from thinking that you're a monster. Because you aren't a monster, Rick. You're a kid who was in a situation that most of us can't fathom, and when you needed me, I wasn't there." He started crying and shook his head. "I'll understand if you want to stay with Mr. Dugan instead…"

"No. No.."He had told Grundy that day that he just needed someone to care about him, to be kind to him, and he could be alright. Rick was so caught up in the stress of his uncle, he hadn't thought about how he did have someone like that. He had his friends, the Dugans, and he had Beth. She had done all of this, because she felt like she'd failed him. Like she was supposed to protect him. She wasn't obligated to do that, but the fact that she wanted to, that she tried to.

Hell, she was even correct about being able to talk him down. He didn't know if she could have that night, but as much as she meant to him… he couldn't rule out that what if. He collected her hand to his heart and said extremely softly, "I choose you."

@futurewriterwannebe

#beth chapel #hournite #rick tyler #futurewriterwannabe #prompts #nesha prompts #I Choose You #hournite prompts #nesha hournite fics #hournite fics #fics

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sadviper · 3 years ago

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Hi, a question about your beautiful fic writing 💕(hope you dont mind!) Do you tend to put in a lot of research while writing fics? 😄

Thank you so much!!!! Of course I don't mind the ask! :3 It would help to know which fandom you are referring to, because the research requirements are different for historical vs. modern-day, but in general there are two answers:

1) The Short Answer: IT'S ALL LIES!!!!! ;;;___;;; like that disclaimer in front of every kdrama, any resemblance to reality is purely coincidence!

2) The Long Answer: It depends! In some ways, research for modern-day is easier, because I'm living it and information is usually readily available. But it's also harder as a result, because there's SO MUCH out there, and I sometimes go down long winding rabbit holes to get background information that only ends up appearing in 1 sentence if at all. For my TKEM fics, I first started carefully rewatching the show, taking notes on all the sets and references made in the dialogue, until I realized that I wasn't getting much return on my investment--the canon was handwaving the worldbuilding quite liberally, and leaving most unsaid or up to interpretation.

For "Before There was Zero", I saved a lot of effort by pulling the little details from what I already knew--the ins and outs of office life and bureaucratic processes. Most of my research time therefore was sunk into figuring out stuff like: how many years it would logically take to reach the rank of captain by age 29 (surprise, you can't, at least not in the US); what can be done to MAKE IT WORK; military merit awards in ancient Korea; wrestling fight moves; districts in Busan w/ great nightlife, etc. Some of these details are major lynchpins to the plot, others are minor details that I probably could've made up, but sometimes it is easier on the brain to use something that exists than to have to create EVERYTHING from scratch.

Research is a great way to give me a premise, especially for specific events or case fic. In "Nil Desperandum", Sung-rok's meet-cute flashback with Yeong-il in Cambodia was me scouring wikipedia about the Khmer Rouge and various events occurring between Cambodia and Vietnam, and then stealing the broad details and shuffling it forward by a couple decades. And each of "The Veritable Records" entries were inspired by things that I read in King Se-jong's Sillok.

Old day research, however, is a whole different beast! To tell you the truth, I dislike reading non-fiction and it's only my perfectionism that made me do as much research as I did. Now add the extra layer of difficulty when libraries are off-limits because of COVID and there is a complete dearth of English-language materials about the lives of Jurchens or daily ancient Korean life online. Research absolutely helps to ground the details of the world, but even that can be trickery. For example, I had no idea what Joseon era Pyongnam harbor looked like nor how to find out, so to write the harbor scene in CH3 of "The Veritable Records: Commitment", I studied a description in a gothic novel called "The Italian" by Ann Radcliffe where she beautifully described an Italian harbor! If I couldn't find relevant information on Korea or Jurchens, I tried to find parallels with Ming Dynasty, Mongolians, or Manchurians, but if it took longer than a 15 minute Google search, then I just Made Sh*t Up, drawing heavily on visuals that I could remember from different cdramas and kdramas that I'd watched over the years. Subject matter experts will see through me, but...if I want to post online, that's the risk I have to take. -_-;;

I had to balance between getting Things Right and not slowing my writing progress down so much that I would lose my motivation to write. Now I completely understand why published authors can spend multiple years on one book, reading tons of books on the topic, traveling and taking photos, etc.

For me, since this is just a hobby, I realized that a story doesn't need all the facts straight in order to be exciting, or emotional, or reach readers in some way. A lot of media we enjoy eschews reality because we're just in it to watch the characters interact and grow together. Not saying my stories will ever stretch disbelief too thin; logic is my life! But it's a way to reason with myself when I inevitably have to make tradeoffs between productivity, quality, and other competing commitments.

I hope this answers your question, and thank you so much for thinking my writing is beautiful! ;;;___;;; <3 <3 <3

#ask #my writing

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buckyskorpion · 5 years ago

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11 hours - part two

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Reader

Summary: bucky is the mystery you can’t wait to solve. if you can get out of his bed long enough, that is. a biker au.

Warnings: gang-typical violence, sex scenes, alcohol mentions, probably more to come so stay tuned

A/N: thank you guys so much for the incredible response i got to part one!! it made me so happy so thank you. let me know wha yall think of this bit, we’ve got some plot going on which i always enjoy. i wont be taking tags for this so please dont ask.

title taken from 11 hours by wet | playlist

part one

You don’t hear from Bucky for a while after the party. It’s disappointing - you’re self-aware enough to admit that. But you also aren’t stupid enough to expect anything else. Bucky asked you to that party as a favour, you got a one-night-only special being in his life and you’re not expecting anything else.

You had hoped it wouldn’t have impacted your nightly rendezvous, but those had stopped too. You suppose Bucky decided not to trust you after all.

Almost three weeks later and you’re at work, thoughts of Bucky barely a buzz in the back of your head compared to the job at hand. You’ve always been able to let your work consume you, and it pays off in your line of business. Being a private investigator requires attention to detail, lateral thinking, and a questionable moral compass. Your patented paranoia doesn’t hurt either. Your dad tells you every time you visit that he wishes you’d get into something more stable, something less dirty, but you’re not really good at anything else. Considering the majority of your clients are partners trying to figure out if their significant other is cheating, it also pays well for quite minimal effort.

Quick rule of thumb for aspiring PI’s: they’re almost always cheating.

Today is one of those clients. You’ve tailed the guy in question to a tattoo shop in Red Hook, which is already a red flag. He’s an investment banker and buys Louis Vuitton cufflinks for his ugly work suits. He stands out like a sore thumb in this grungy neighbourhood. You snap a few photos of him outside the store, very obviously checking left and right for a tail before entering the place. People suck at being subtle, you’ve come to realise over the years. And at being observant, because all you’ve bothered to do to hide is sit at the cafe across the road and pretend to be taking photos of the latte art on your coffee.

Entering the tattoo parlour is a no-go, even if your grunge aesthetic would fit in with the clientele more than your straight-laced prey. There are other ways, though. You leave some bills on the table and cross the street into the alley beside the tattoo shop, wrinkling your nose at the dumpster smell. There’s a fire escape which you can reach if you stand on the lid of the offensive dumpster in question, leading to a window you hope will get you some insight into what Mike Shorditch of suspected-cheating fame is up to. Maybe he has a tattooed, lip-ringed young girlfriend he meets here? Or a heavy-set biker boyfriend? Or he just wants a tattoo and his wife is as paranoid as you are.

Squeezed uncomfortably between the bars of the fire-escape, you manage to aim your camera lens at the window and zoom in - jackpot. It’s a small window near the ceiling of the high-roofed shop, letting in minimal light to ruin the dark aesthetic of the place, allowing you a somewhat clear view of the shop inside. It’s really nice, you notice, and they have good taste in music. Slowly Slowly bleeds minimally through the glass and you try focus your lens on the faces inside, catching Mike among them like a unicorn in a goth reunion. He’s talking to someone, waving his hands around dramatically while the guy he talks to towers over him, arms folded over a ginormous chest.

You know that face, you realise as you aim your lens a little higher. The shock burns, almost makes you drop your camera and fall off the fire escape you’re precariously lying on. It’s Steve, blonde head unmistakeable as he glares at your target and dismisses whatever Mike says to him with an eyeroll. Without questioning it, you snap a few photos of Steve’s imposing figure - so at odds with the friendly, downright cuddly man you met at the party a few weeks ago. Just when you thought you’d gotten rid of thoughts about that night, they show up at your work. How is this possible?

None of this sits right with you. This strange coincidence, the weird behaviour at the party towards Bucky and his friends, Bucky’s general evasiveness and the feeling you get of being watched just being around him. Nothing is adding up and you’ve never been the kind of person to leave well enough alone. You snap photos of the shop, as much as you can - Steve’s tattoo sleeve that had been hidden under a jumper at the party, the stencils lining the walls, the locks on the front door, the counter where a scrawny kid in glasses bends over what looks like genuine high-school homework and ignores the adults in the shop. There are too many variables - you have to start making sense of one of them.

The easiest thread to pull is Mike, and he’s the one you’re being paid to solve, so it makes sense to start there. Clearly it isn’t cheating his wife should be worried about, but the meeting he’s having with Steve and the others doesn’t look like a friendly catch up with friends either. His personal cybersecurity is poor enough you figure you’ll be able to solve that particular mystery easy enough.

Bucky and his friends, however? That’s going to take a bit more digging.

***

According to Mike Shoreditch’s bank records, he owes somebody a lot of money. You get this from an account his wife doesn’t even know he has, believing all their money goes into a shared account with a completely different bank. Mike has a lot of secrets but cheating isn’t one of them - the print outs of his secret bank account statements and the pictures of him at Steve’s tattoo parlour would be enough for you to close the case and get your money. But you don’t. Not just yet. You have your own itch to scratch, now.

You’ve taken to watching the tattoo shop’s comings and goings, snapping pictures here and there. Steve comes in at ten in the morning, ready to open the shop up by lunchtime for customers and doesn’t close it until midnight. His customers are the usual sort you’d imagine at a rough tattoo shop in Red Hook - heavy set guys with full sleeves and chest pieces, grungy couples who probably live upstate but are rebelling against their trust-fund parents, random walk-ins who’s nerves you can sense from across the street at what’s become your usual table. There are a few, though, who stand out. Leather jackets and motorbikes they park in the alley beside the shop, using the back entrance you snap a shot of one night once they all went home.

You’re not jumping to conclusions just yet, you’ve learnt the hard way from doing that, but you’re also not stupid. Whatever Steve is into, whatever Bucky is by association a part of, there are some shady looking people involved as well.

It’s one of those days where you’re watching the shop from the cafe, camera left on the table in favour of devouring an almond croissant and cataloguing the people you’ve now dubbed regulars at Steve’s as they enter the shop. You should probably be doing your actual job but you can’t bring yourself to, too caught up in the shady business across the street from you. Absorbed, in fact, so you practically jump out of your skin as your phone rings and you send it flying to the pavement with an errant elbow.

You pick up without checking the ID, and boy was that a mistake. Heart pounding painfully in your chest, you answer, “Hi, hello, hi, this is (Y/n) speaking,” all in a rush.

A familiar, honey-warm laugh rumbles down the phone to you and your previously racing heart all but stops beating. Bucky says, “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

Does he know? Had Steve caught you spying and called Bucky asking why the random girl he brought to a party that one time was stalking him? You glance around the street, half expecting Bucky to be standing behind you and catching you red-handed. He’s not, of course he’s not, you’re just losing your mind a little bit.

“No, no, sorry,” you say, running a shaky hand through your hair. “I’m at work. What’s up?”

“I won’t keep you long,” Bucky says, sounding amused, and you hate how the rough catch of his voice through the phone all but erases the suspicions you have for him, warning you to stay away. You had missed him, is all. He says, as if plucking the thought from your brain, “I was missing you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, glad he can’t see the grin you send to the table. “That why you disappeared after the party?”

“Let me explain over drinks?” Bucky asks, dodging your jab with ease. No, no, no, don’t be stupid, he’s bad news and you’ve got the proof, don’t-

“You’re paying,” you say instead, silencing the smart side of your brain.

“Always do,” he says, which is blatantly not true but whatever, “Nine at Joey’s?”

“See you there,” you say, and hang up before you can do anything else stupid.

You bury your hands in your hair, leaning your elbows on the table and letting out a frustrated sound probably inappropriate for a public place. How are you going to go meet Bucky and pretend you aren’t, essentially, investigating his best friend? Maybe you don’t. Maybe you use this to get more answers, full-stop some of the question marks that have been playing havoc with your head all week.

And sex. You’re not going to pretend you won’t be ending up in Bucky’s bed again, shady secrets be damned.

***

Joey’s is a divey, underground bar you absolutely adore, and you’ve met Bucky here multiple times. He introduced you to the place, actually, a week or so into meeting up him. He’d laughed at how excited you were over the movie posters they used as decor behind the booths, the bartender who squeezed fresh apple juice into your shot of Jameson, the dirty bass-heavy music you eventually convinced him to dance with you to. Bucky is clearly trying to win you over by meeting you here, and you can’t say it’s not working. Just a little bit. You’ll still make him work for it.

Bucky’s got a booth at the back when you arrive, two whiskey apple’s already waiting on the table as he stands up to greet you. He pulls you into a hug, not letting you set the tone at all, but you can’t find it in you to mind as you’re crushed into his chest and he rests his stubbly chin atop your head. He smells nice, reminding you of spiced rum or something else warm and comforting, and his hands feel real nice as they dip under your top to press against your bare skin. Had you really missed him this much? You squeeze him tightly, ignoring the thump of your heart as he starts rubbing circles into your back, and you stand there in his arms for far too long to be appropriate.

Pulling away, though, feels like you’ve lost something.

Across the booth from you, now, Bucky slides a drink towards you with his usual cheeky grin. You roll your eyes at him, popping the straw in your mouth and looking out at the bar so you can pretend not to pay attention to him. He bumps your foot under the table but you ignore him, hiding your smirk in the rim of your glass.

“Doll,” he says, exasperated, and reaches across the booth to place his giant hand on the arm you have resting on the table. You look at him then, scrunching your nose up at the pet name which makes him smile. His eyes crinkle up at the sides, all soft and blurry blue, and you feel yourself forgetting why you’re supposed to be mad at him in the first place.

“What,” you say, mimicking his tone just to watch his jaw clench. His frustration is hot, what of it? You love winding him up like this.

“Brat,” he retorts, and oh, that makes you feel something you probably shouldn’t, all low and coiled hot in your belly. “Did you think I was avoiding you?”

“You were avoiding me,” you correct, raising your eyebrows at him. He hasn’t let go of your arm, now taking to rubbing his thumb back and forth across the leather of your jacket. You refuse to let it melt you.

“I was away,” he says, eyes sparkling. He’s practically laughing at you, which is- rude. You huff, barely believing him, and he says, “I was! Did you want me to tell you I was going or something?”

“No,” you say, rolling your eyes at him. You sigh - he’s right, what did you expect? Nothing, and yet you were put out anyway, but that’s a problem you’ve got to deal with on your own. Bucky doesn’t owe you anything and he knows it. You relax, finally, putting your drink down to cover Bucky’s hand with your own. You smile, say, “I’m just messing with you, Bucky.”

“Sure you are,” he says easily, but you know he doesn’t believe you. It’s dropped, then, forgotten as you sit there staring at each other in the dim light of the bar. You really had missed him, even if you still barely knew him. His stubbly jaw, the close-cropped sides of the new haircut he’d gotten since you’d last seen him, the glint of his dog togs against tanned skin disappearing under his t-shirt. The swirl of his chest piece peeking out from the neckline, and you can fill in the blanks because you’ve seen what’s under that t-shirt. You’ve traced your tongue over it, as well as every other inch of him you’re trying to memorise in case another month passed before you saw him again. If you ever saw him at all.

“What?” you ask when you realise he’s starting to smile at you, holding back a laugh. He shakes his head, looking down to pick up his drink and take a sip. You lean back, retracting yourself from his grip and folding your arms across your chest - he’s making fun of you, you know it, but you don’t know why. He does laugh then, also leaning back in his seat and regarding you with that head tilt that infuriates you.

“Nothing,” he laughs, eyes saying the opposite. “It’s just- it’s nice to see you.”

“You going soft on me, tough guy?” you tease, but he sobers at your words, the smile dying on his pillow-plump lips. He stares you down, that deep thing that reminds you how easy it is to get lost in him (if you aren’t already).

“Maybe I am,” he says, and that surprises you. You had been joking, but the heady way he’s looking at you turns it serious. “Would that bother you?”

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to say the right thing. You don’t even know if that’s a good response or not, but you’ve done it now and Bucky nods, downs his drink, all without ever breaking eye contact with you. You get the distinct feeling you’ve just agreed to something you don’t entirely understand, entangling yourself further into Bucky without even trying to. Given what you’d been uncovering about his friends the past week, you should know better. You should leave.

But you don’t. You lean across the booth, coming to him this time, and peel his hand off his glass to entwine your fingers with his. The cool metal of his signet rings offsets the warmth of his palm against yours, and the way he grips your fingers tightly signs the deal. Bucky is too enticing to stay away from, and you are too tired of trying to.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” you ask, but it’s not really a question. You watch his eyes dart across your face, tongue flicking out over his lips, stalling for time. You wonder what he’ll say. My friends run dodgy business deals out of a tattoo parlour? I’m involved in that, too? I’m dangerous, I’m a liar, you should stay away?

“I’m a mechanic,” he says. You try not to show your disappointment, but still, this is information you didn’t have before and you’re greedy for anything. “I have my own shop in Queens. Natasha helps me out, helps me run it. I’ve been obsessed with cars and bikes and shit since I was five.”

You smile at that, imaging little Bucky running around a car yard trying to convince his dad, or whoever, to teach him how to drive even if he couldn’t reach the pedals yet. You imagine him now, the hand you’re holding all greased up and elbow deep in a car’s guts, maybe with his shirt off and sweat dripping down his back. You’ve got to see that one day before you die, you decide right then. That’s too hot to just stay in your brain.

“Your turn,” he says, shit-eating smirk in place like he can read your mind. You blush, despite yourself, and scramble for something to say that’s not I’ve been investigating your friends all week and it’s not looking too good for them.

“My dad,” you blurt out, and Bucky give you a funny look like he thinks that’s your fact - you have a dad, isn’t that something. You curse yourself for starting this, you could’ve gone with anything and you said ‘my dad’? But you’re here now, so, “He raised me on his own, like, I don’t know my mum at all, but he always said he wanted me to have something of her so he taught me Russian. She taught him, apparently, and he taught her English. Now it’s like our secret language.”

“Russian, hey?” Bucky asks, and he seems far too surprised for the anecdote you’ve just given but you suppose it is the first actually personal thing you’ve told him. He doesn’t seem off-put by it, though, like you have expected him to be because you don’t do personal. In fact he just leans closer, almost unconsciously, baiting you to tell him more.

“Yeah,” you say, compelled to keep going. “We’d leave each other notes around the house in ‘code’, y’know, but it was just in Cyrillic. Thought it was so cool.”

“It is cool,” Bucky says, smirking at you again, “You’re cool.”

“Fuck you,” you laugh, kicking his ankle under the table but immeasurably grateful for the tone change. You don’t know why you’ve just told him that. You don’t know if you’ve ever told anyone that - Russian isn’t exactly a handy language to know. You feel drunker than you should be after a tiny bit of whiskey, high on the rush of unleashing a secret. Drunk enough that Bucky unlatching his fingers from yours to grip your wrist tight, a bit bruising, tugging you close, makes you flush from your scalp to your toes.

Bucky looks at you, dark and heavy, and asks, “Want to?”

You nod, throat suddenly very dry, and Bucky tugs you out of the booth without another word. Usually you wait a bit longer before getting on Bucky’s bike, have a few more drinks, maybe dance a bit if you can coax Bucky into it. Not tonight. You’re both on the same page - it’s been too long and you need his mouth on you about five days ago.

He pushes you into the apartment by the shoulders, rough enough you stumble but you’re quickly righted as he strides through the door after you and grabs you by the hips. Bucky crushes his mouth to yours, swallowing your needy whine with soft lips and velvet tongue as you fist his t-shirt and drag you both backwards, going and going until your back hits a wall. His palm slams into the drywall by your head but you don’t flinch, only groan as he smudges his spit-slick mouth across your jaw and down your neck. Bucky bites down, sharp teeth on soft skin, and you rake your nails down his stomach as payback for the mark you’ll have later.

“Off,” Bucky grumbles as he shoves at your jacket, getting it stuck at your elbows and trapping your arms by your sides. He seems to like like this, eyes flashing something dangerous in the dark of his hallway. You hold his eyes, heart thrumming something wild in your throat at being caught, pinned, vulnerable. With Bucky, though, you like that.

You want to reach for him but you can’t, so you wait for him to come to you. Kissing you breathless, hand fisted in your hair, other undoing the front of your jeans. God, you wanna touch him so bad but Bucky has you in his grip, yanking your head back to kiss that same bruised spot. He sucks another under your chin as you cry out, pinpricks of pain-turned-pleasure bursting at the base of your scalp.

He gets his hand in your jeans, in your panties, runs two fingers down your cunt so easy with how wet you are already before rubbing bruising, slow circles on your clit. Your whole body jerks against Bucky’s hold on you, his thighs bracketing your body into the wall and his hand still fisted in your hair. Your mouth drops open in a soundless moan and you feel, rather than hear Bucky laugh against your throat. All executive function has diverted to the radiating ache of pure pleasure from Bucky’s fingers on you.

Bucky lets go of you hair only to press his hand on your throat, cold rings digging into your burnt-up skin and pressing you back into the wall. Long fingers tilt your jaw to look at him, increased pressure warning you against looking away, but you don’t want to anyway. Bucky’s eyes are dark like a sea storm, molten blue, and he squeezes his grip just once before saying, “Still think I’ve gone soft?”

Jesus christ, but you can’t answer him like this - not with your pulse thundering against his palm and the way he picks up the pace on your clit, making your thighs shake with the effort of holding yourself up. Bucky grins, boyish and crinkly, and it’s so at odds with the way he slides his two fingers down and pushes into you, twisting to the knuckle, that you think you might be losing your mind. Unravelling, Bucky pulling at the threads, and the only thing holding you together is his hand on your throat.

“Bucky,” you say, his name a broken breath as you start to lose focus. Everything’s hazy, glassy, your toes are going numb and tingly so you know it’s coming, building tight in your stomach as he rubs his fingers back and forth inside of you. At his name Bucky makes a sound almost like a growl, pressing his body against yours and somehow further into the wall. You need that contact, the press of his muscles holding you up as it gets harder and harder to breath with the heat coiling up inside of you. He presses his forehead against yours so all you can see is blue edged out by black, claiming your every breath and moan, drawing you in deeper and deeper because you’re his, now. There’s no way back from this.

He presses his thumb to your clit, thrusts his fingers deeper into you, mouth parting with yours as you moan as if he means to swallow the sound. You’re there, you’re right there, and then he kisses you so soft you might’ve imagined it and you’re coming, your whole body clenching up and whiting out while he finger fucks you through it.

Trembling muscles come to leant against the wall, barely holding yourself up as Bucky extricates himself and allows you room to breath. He gently tugs your jacket all the way off, freeing your arms to come up sluggish and heavy around his neck, holding on. He laughs, just quietly, letting you nuzzle your way into the side of his neck and breath in that warm honey Bucky smell as you try and regain mental functions. It’s hard. You think Bucky’s just blended up your brain with a swizzle stuck and sucked it out through a straw.

“C’mon,” he says, gravel rough, and nudges his nose against the side of your head. “Not done with you yet.”

“Hmph,” you say, but let yourself be picked up under the ass and wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. You press a kiss to the skin of his neck you can reach with every second your body comes back online, digging your teeth in a little when he squeezes your ass as he walks. You’re both still fully clothes, basically, but you don’t plan to be for long. You’ve got tattoos to kiss and a dick you want anyway Bucky’ll let you. You’ve got all night, after all.

***

It’s late, you should be going, but you steal a few more minutes lying on Bucky’s chest. He’s sat up against the headboard, trying to braid little pieces of your hair with the cutest look of concentration on his face. The way he goes from dirty to dork always makes your heart do complicated things in your chest. You’re drumming your fingers on his chest, right next to his dog tags, and before you can overthink it too much you pause your drum solo to pick them up.

Bucky doesn’t pause in his hair-braiding but you can feel him watching you as you turn the worn metal over in your fingers. They’re well loved, a bit bent in places and the letters starting to rub flat but you can still read it. His birthday, March 10th, and his name. You’d never thought to read these before - they always seemed part of Bucky’s past, something you weren’t allowed into yet. But tonight has made you bold, and you run your thumb over the letters of his name so you can memorise the feel of them.

“James Buchanan Barnes,” you mumble, words half said into his skin. Bucky hums but doesn’t respond, so you say, “I always knew no mother could look at their newborn child and call it Bucky.”

“Watch it,” Bucky warns, but without any real heat. You don’t ask what the tags mean, which war he fought in, when he got back. You lay them back on his skin carefully, straightening out the chain, before turning in Bucky’s arms to prop your chin on his chest piece and look at him.

“I should go,” you say, as you continue to lie there with legs tangled and Bucky’s hand now resting idle, cupping the back of your head. He bites his lip, strokes his big hand down the back of your hair and making you close your eyes for a second. You’re enjoying his touch too much, you’re getting too close for a man you don’t know. A man who you know has secrets you probably don’t want to uncover, but you can’t stop yourself.

“You could stay.” Bucky’s words hang there, suspended in the space between you. He’s never said that before. You never thought he would say that, ever. Bucky looks at you, face unreadable, and you don’t know why you feel sick to your stomach all of a sudden but you do. There are lines being crossed that you can’t backtrack from. You’re not ready to make that step yet.

“Not tonight,” you say, and it’s not a no but it’s not what Bucky wants to hear. He withdraws his hand from you, letting it drop uselessly to the bed beside him. You take that as your cue to go, rolling off the bed and dressing silently with Bucky’s eyes burning a hole in your skin.

You’re pulling away, trying desperately to regain some distance and control from his man who already has you swallowed whole, he just doesn’t know it yet. Even still, you can’t stop yourself crawling back on the bed and straddling his lap, holding his face in your hands as you kiss him. You want him to remember this - not you saying no, but the way your body will always say yes to him as he holds your hips and keeps you there, kissing you back as desperate as you feel.

But now you know you have reason to climb through the laundry room window that night and sneak away from Bucky’s apartment building, that you’re not just being paranoid because you’ve got photos to prove it. It’s that thought alone that makes it bearable to leave him, even if your heart is begging you to stay.

Part 3

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