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meowzfordayz · 2 years ago

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hashira find out that you self harm

Author’s Note: as always, pls heed CW (content warnings). These were not written purely for comfort, but also w/ ~realistic reactions in mind, so while they def lean toward comfort, there’s a certain lvl of inherent discomfort and pain in them as well. 🖤

hashira find out that you self harm

Hashira x Reader

Word Count: ~1,900

CW: depression, explicit language, implied self harm, traumatic references

Emergency Request Fulfilled: Can I request kny x reader, (sanemi, michikatsu, genya, giyu, & rengoku)

of an s/o who sh & feels very s*icidal

tough times yk?

Emergency Request Fulfilled: A request, idk if this is gonna seem insensitive, but could you write the hashiras reactions if they found out the reader sh? I have been struggling with these things lately and would like to see something like that, but if you feel uncomfortable with it then you don't have to do this.

Emergency Request Fulfilled: I ended up breaking my streak of not sh-ing last night and I feel awful again. I was wondering if you could do a rengoku x Reader with that kind of subject material as a sort of pick me up. Sorry for bothering you like this it’s just I feel not so good rn and you’re someone who provides me comfort with your writing

kamaboko find out that you self harm

~faqs~

When they find out that you self harm…

… Gyomei doesn’t know what to say. His immediate reaction is to feel incredibly protective, but his gut tells him overreacting could push you even further away. “Oh.” A single word exhaled quietly from his mouth, and you feel yourself unraveling. “I-” Quickly, he collects himself. “Don’t apologize to me,” he asserts gently, “Thank you for telling me.” “You aren’t mad?” you ask shakily. “I’m confused,” he answers softly, “I want to protect you, but I’m unfamiliar with protecting someone from themselves.” Your heart twinges at his admittance as his arms wrap steadily around you, his palms pressed clammy and flat against your back, his embrace soothing even as his frown deepens.

… Obanai is furious. With himself, of course. A silent, dreadful anger that sticks to his spine, no matter how much he twists, turns, and talks with himself. He throws himself into research, a whirlwind of educating himself as best and as quickly as possible, all the while maintaining a light hearted, gentle facade whenever you’re beside him. “Are you okay?” you’ll ask sometimes, his sporadic urgency noticeable, “Something bothering you?” And he knows confessing his frustration won’t solve anything; guilting you or making you regret sharing yourself with him is the last thing he wants. So he shrugs, shooting you a lazy, intimate smile, suddenly grateful for how he can make his eyes twinkle above his mask, truthful grimace covered, “Just missing you.” “But I’m right here!” you exclaim, nudging him happily. “I know,” he mutters softly I know.

… Mitsuri cries. She doesn’t mean to. She doesn’t mean to make you comfort her. She doesn’t mean to make you apologize over and over until you’re both bawling, clinging to each other as though squeezing tightly enough might make your truth dissipate. But she does. She cries in your arms as you cry in hers, disbelief and sorrow rippling through her body. “I-I’m s-sorry,” you repeat, voice strained, unable to catch your breath as you gasp between sobs. “M-me t-too,” she whimpers lowly Me too. She’ll put herself back together later, determination to love you as hard and as fiercely as ever gradually overcoming her initial shock and dismay, even as part of her heart remains forever changed — forever afraid of losing you… to yourself.

… Shinobu struggles to maintain a boundary between being your partner and being your therapist. She’s not professionally trained in psychiatry, but she’s obviously knowledgeable when it comes to physical healing, sooo why not mental healing? That’s not how it works she often has to silently remind herself, seconds away from responding to your spiraling as though you’re in a therapy session together. Deep down, she knows all she can do is be there for you as she is. Not as she wishes she could be. Not as she feels she should be. But as she is. Am I enough? she wonders as she listens to your labored breathing, feeling you twitch beside her in your sleep I sure hope so she sighs, pressing light fingers to your overheated cheek, smiling faintly as your breaths gradually slow I really hope so.

… Kyojuro is distraught, but does his best to conceal it. For your sake. His sake. He isn’t really sure, actually. All he knows is he’s watching you fall to pieces in slow motion, and somehow, he still isn’t quite fast enough to catch all of you. Some days are easier than others. Those other days? He can barely bring himself to touch you.

“Kyo,” you sigh, fixing an even stare on his unnervingly neutral gaze, sorely missing his usual eagerness, “What’s going on?”

He promptly brightens, stepping forward to press a light kiss on your forehead, “Nothing is going on.”

Then why won’t you comfort me?

Wordlessly, you slip your arms around his waist, relieved when he accepts your embrace, confused that, “Then why don’t you hold me anymore?”

He frowns at that, head tilting, “I am holding you right now.”

With a snort, you mutter quietly, “No, Kyo, I’m holding you. It’s like you suddenly need my permission to-” interrupting yourself as realization hits, “Kyo.”

He blinks, feeling thoroughly ~caught, yet unsure what act you’ve caught him in.

“Yes, my love?”

“You don’t have to be scared of me!” you exclaim, bittersweet laughter rumbling in your chest, “I know I…” trailing off awkwardly, “I know I’m not okay, and I know you worry, but keeping yourself from me doesn’t help, solve, or ease, well, anything!”

“Are you certain?” he murmurs, dreadful despair leaking into his gut again, “I… do not know how to navigate this.”

Squeezing his hips, you glare fondly at him, “I know I’m not okay, and I know it pains you to hear me say that. I also know it pains both of us when you distance yourself. You don’t have to let me go. You aren’t the problem.”

But he nearly exclaims But I can’t save you!

“I don’t need saving,” you whisper instead, reading his perceived failure in the tremor of his fingers tracing up and down your spine, “I just want you to love me.”

I do he swallows thickly I love you so much.

… Sanemi leaves midway through your quiet, shaky explanation, fingernails nearly breaking the skin of his palms, mouth a thin line, lavender eyes too narrowed to discern the pain pulsing through his glare. You listen to the front door open, expecting a resounding bam, mystified when a nearly silent push of air signals his departure. Shit. You know then that he isn’t pissed. At least, he isn’t pissed at you. Which, really, would be easier to handle than the slow dripping tears glistening on his cheeks, clinging to his eyelashes; would be easier to handle than reading the single text he sends you I love you, don’t wait up; would be easier to handle than waking to the feel of him tracing hearts across your skin, bed warmer with his body, mattress dipping you toward him. “I’m sorry I left,” he whispers, somehow knowing you’re awake before you’ve even fully processed consciousness yourself, “I won’t do it again.” You mumble something incoherent in response, catching his hand with yours, pressing a sleepy kiss to his knuckles. “Fuck,” he hisses sharply, sob lodged in his throat, “You’re everything to me,” lifting your knuckles to his lips, returning your gesture Everything.

… Muichiro doesn’t understand why, but he does notice its consequences. He notices the tiredness glinting in your eyes, even though you’ve just woken up. He notices the slowness in your movements, even as you’re expressing excitement. He notices the harshness of your voice when you’re having a particularly difficult day, though he doesn’t understand why it’s particularly difficult. He voices his disconnect, curled up beside you on the couch, hands wrapped coolly around yours, apologetic and upfront. “I can tell when you’re in pain,” he says gently, “But I don’t understand the desire to then create more pain.” Shaking his head as you open your mouth to explain, he smiles softly, “I know it hurts to try and help me understand, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” brow furrowing as he sighs quietly, “That’s just it, I guess. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I don’t understand.” You know he means well, you know he isn’t upset, but it doesn’t get easier listening to him navigate your pain. “I love you,” you offer, leaning over to peck his cheek. He sighs again, soaking in your warmth, unable to identify the tight numbness in his chest, “And I love you.”

… Giyuu nods, thoughts racing even as silence settles between your anxious stare and his unblinking expression.

“Giyuu?” you tentatively prompt him, “This… this wasn’t easy for… for me to tell you.”

Like an unpaused movie, he blinks into action, reaching for your waist even as he watches for the slightest hint of discomfort from you, ready to divert his movement if need be. You crumble into his touch, leaning heavy and exhausted against his chest, melting into the smooth reassurance of his hands splayed across your lower back.

“I know,” he murmurs lowly, eyes closed, “Thank you for trusting me,” resisting the urge to pull away, cup your face, and press his forehead firmly to yours, involuntary tears pricking the corners of his eyes, “Thank you for…” his voice fades, knowing he’d crumble en suite if he continued, desperate to remain steady for your wavering breaths.

“For what?” you choke out, “Giyuu.”

Thank you for staying he thinks somberly Thank you for loving me.

“Thank you for choosing me,” he finally whispers, “And thank you for letting me choose you.”

You laugh roughly, sound mangled in his shirt, “I’m a mess.”

He doesn’t deny your statement, instead pulling you closer, his heartbeat loud and promising, tears falling freely now. And that’s okay he wishes he could say Two messes are better than one he wishes he could quip How do I fix this? his fear stutters on repeat What do I do? underlying his tenderness, knowing all too well that he has only questions, and no way of answering them.

… Tengen takes it unexpectedly well. He listens patiently, nods at appropriate moments, and gently interjects with the occasional question, all the while kneading your thighs as you sit on his lap, watching you with a careful, encouraging warmth.

“You’re amazing,” he declares softly, “Not to belittle your pain, of course,” sadness simmering just below his faint smile, “But I want you to know that, after everything you’ve told me, my first thought is how incredible you are.”

You shrug, unsure how to accept his compliments, stripped bare as you glance downward, eyes closing.

“Hey,” he murmurs, familiar hand cupping your chin, “I know I can’t make you believe anything I say,” bittersweet sigh grazing your skin, “But I can at least share my own beliefs. I can at least share my own perception of you. I can love you.”

Your nose scrunches, eyes opening to meet his honest stare, swallowing your breath with a shudder.

“I’m here. Whatever you want to tell me, whatever I need to know,” voice thickening, “I’m not going anywhere. If you need me to be firm, I can be firm. If you need me to be quiet, I can bite my tongue. I’m your lover, your partner, and a resource.”

So let me fulfill all of those roles for you. Let me love you. Let me walk beside you. Let me taste your burdens as you’ve stomached mine.

“You don’t have to be responsible for me,” you chuckle weakly, attempting to ease the tension, “I don’t tell you things to make you carry them for me.”

“But I would,” he speaks steadily, “I know you wouldn’t ever ask me to,” maroon gaze dark, “But I would.”

He doesn’t mean to be overbearing, but he doesn’t know how else to convey the fragility in his heart; its overwhelming swell of aching and anger — the stark hopelessness of knowing he can only watch. Of knowing he can only listen. Of knowing he can only handle as much as you’re willing to give him.

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judasofsuburbia · 2 years ago

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Jonathan Byers might be the stupidest person on the planet. Because why...WHY did he ask Steve Harrington to model for his photography final? Why did he think he would ever be able to focus enough to capture what he needs to? Why did he wait until the last week of the semester and now, there's no time to ask anyone else and he doesn't want to hurt Steve's feelings—

“Hey,” Steve says, interrupting Jonathan's thought spiral. “Is this where you want me?”

Jonathan looks up from his clipboard and camera to see Steve standing on top of the stool. Jonathan had sent him away with a costume he borrowed from the drama department and hadn't heard him come back in.

Steve is dressed in a toga. The crossbody strap is smaller than it would be on anyone else across his broad, hairy chest. The end of the toga rests delicately on his upper thighs, an inch away from being too short. Steve has quaffed his beautiful hair up and a plastic, golden crown of leaves sits amongst the brunette locks.

All of the moisture in Jonathan's mouth evaporates as he takes in Steve in this, what should have been, almost ridiculous outfit. Instead, Steve is absolutely striking in it and Jonathan is going to lose his mind before he even gets the lights set up.

“Uh, yeah, just hold there,” Jonathan croaks so he clears his throat. “I still have some things to set up.”

“Cool,” Steve replies simply. He shifts from foot to foot, tied up in lacy sandals. He looks around the studio that Jonathan has set up and smiles.

“Excited to see you do your thing,” Steve says. Jonathan trips over a cable.

“What?”

Steve glances over his shoulder and his face is so genuine when he says, “I wanna see you in the zone, you know?”

Jonathan blinks and ducks his head. “In the zone,” he repeats lamely.

“Yeah,” Steve smiles. “I mean, I've seen you take pictures before but never all done up like this. And this concept is really cool, I hope I can do it justice.“

Jonathan's assignment was to take from an existing piece of art, something not photography related, and recreate it. He's always been fascinated by the coliseums and marble statues of Greece, all the Gods and warriors of that time. As he was researching, the only thing that came to his mind was “Steve, Steve, Steve” and before he could even think twice, he shot him a text asking for his help.

“You will, man,” Jonathan barely speaks above a mumble.

Steve hums a song Jonathan doesn't know in the silence that follows. Jonathan finishes setting up all the lights and drawing the curtains of the room. He tries to pull up the screen behind Steve but can't get it to sit on the designated pole.

Steve reaches over him, his stomach resting on Jonathan's shoulder, and hooks the screen into place. Jonathan glances up at Steve's towering figure and swallows dryly. His muscular arm is bulging, his head is cast in the light from behind them like an angel.

Steve winks and says, “You can put me to work, Byers. I don't mind.”

Jonathan's not sure that the thing that tumbles out of his lips is a laugh, per se, more like a weak, nasally huff of air. But he can't focus on that right now because he needs to stop breathing in Steve's cologne. He escapes to the other side of the room.

“You're going to be doing plenty today, I promise,” Jonathan responds while he sets up a little table next to his camera for his notes. “Why don't we start with you sitting?”

Steve sits on the stool with his legs spread, not even realizing that he's near exposing himself through the skirt. Jonathan squeaks and Steve glances down.

“Oh shit,” Steve says, crossing his ankles. “Not used to that happening.”

“It's fine, I didn't see anything,” Jonathan mumbles, writing down nothing on his clipboard of notes.

“I didn't go full commando under here,” Steve clarifies with a small laugh. “I'm just glad I wore white boxers today--”

And yeah, Jonathan didn't need that image either. He starts adjusting his camera on the tripod and says, “Sorry, I should have been more clear about your costume.”

“Nah man, it's alright. I kinda dig it. If we shoot outside, I'm sure the breeze will feel so good.”

Outside? No, Jonathan can't see Steve basking in the sun like this. He wouldn't survive that.

“Gonna have to settle for the AC, I'm afraid,” Jonathan says with a fumbling laugh. “Okay, first shot. I'm thinking you tilt your legs to the side, almost like you're lounging on the stool. Then pop the shoulder closer to the wall up while keeping the other down. Look up at the ceiling.”

Steve follows his instructions but he tilts his whole head up instead of just his eyes.

“Chin down a bit, look with the eyes.”

“Like this?” Steve asks, voice innocent though it runs hot through Jonathan's ears.

Jonathan looks through his viewfinder to see Steve absolutely glowing. His brown eyes holding so much casual emotion that it tugs at Jonathan's heart.

“Mhm. Perfect,” Jonathan captures a few shots like that before directing him to the next shot. And the one after.

Steve nails it over and over again, looking exactly like the ethereal Gods and tragic heroes Jonathan read about. Jonathan keeps telling him he's doing amazing, that he looks amazing. He can see Steve try to fight off his smile for the sake of not ruining the shot. Jonathan wonders if he could shoot that smile someday just for the sake of letting him be happy.

“You're going to give me a big head,” Steve says when they take a break.

“Please,” Jonathan scoffs. “You already have one.”

Steve pouts playfully when he's done sipping his water. “I'm better than I was.”

Jonathan shakes his head with a fond smile. He looks at Steve directly and says, “Yeah, you are.”

Steve's lips part in surprise but then he quickly tilts his head away, sipping more water. Steve tsks. “Compliment after compliment, Byers. I should be your model more often.”

Jonathan's cheeks burn hot. “Yeah, yeah, tell your friends. C'mon, let's get back to it.”

The new few shots require Steve to show off his muscles which had to have been an idea of a deliriously horny Jonathan Byers. He could kill that guy.

“Okay, hold your hands up and behind your head. Then, uh,” Jonathan stammers, “Flex your arms for me.”

Steve raises his eyebrows but he does flex. It's not that Steve Harrington is absolutely shredded; rather, he has the toned muscles of a casual jock. He just cares about his body and his strength. It doesn't make it any less debilitating to witness.

“G-good, that's good,” Jonathan mumbles.

“You good, Byers?” Steve asks. His smirk grows less subtle every fleeting second it takes for Jonathan to respond. “Wishing for someone more buff?”

“No,” Jonathan defends immediately. “No, uh, no, you're good. Great, even.”

“What should I do with my face?” Steve asks.

“Keep it smug like that,” Jonathan says, a little bite to his words that comes from the roaring zoo currently in his stomach.

“Smug,” Steve scoffs, voice still teasing. “Just trying to figure you out.”

Jonathan ignores that, he does not need to be figured out today and especially not by Steve Harrington.

He takes the shot and instructs Steve to hold one arm up to the side while the other pretends to hold something. Steve stands awkwardly, clenching and unclenching the fist that's supposed to be acting right now.

“Can you show me?” Steve asks.

“Sure,” Jonathan says. He rounds the camera and is about to demonstrate making an “O” with his fist but Steve holds out his hand and Jonathan doesn't think before he takes it. He shapes Steve's fingers gently and places his arm outstretched to his side. Steve just watches him.

“Should I actually hold something?” Steve asks.

“No, I'm gonna edit something in later,” Jonathan explains, awkwardly dropping Steve's hand because he realizes he's still holding it.

“Like what?”

“I can't decide if it's going to be a sword or a lightning bolt. Armor, maybe,” Jonathan shrugs then looks up at Steve who is beaming at him.

“You can do that?”

“Y-yeah. Photoshop and all.”

“That's so fucking sick,” Steve exclaims. “You're gonna send these to me, right?”

“Yeah, if you want,” Jonathan says.

“Of course, I want,” Steve assures. ”Not only because you're making me into some Greek god but also because it's your art and it's fucking cool.“

“Thanks,” Jonathan breathes.

Steve reaches the posed hand up and pinches Jonathan's chin. Jonathan can feel every nerve vibrate as Steve's fingers fall away too soon. Steve gives him a curious look but returns his hand to the pose. Jonathan shuffles back behind the camera and continues shooting the pictures.

Steve showcases different smolders that make Jonathan's stomach tighten but he keeps pressing the button, keeps seeing how far Steve will go without his instruction.

“What if I shot my arm back like I'm about to throw it?” Steve asks, demonstrating his point.

Jonathan's eyes trail up his torso to the arm in question and he swallows. “Mhm. That looks really good.”

Steve's lips turn upward and he whispers, “So do you, Byers.”

Jonathan's whole body freezes. His finger trembles over the button but his mind is so blank that he can't tell it to push. Steve keeps glancing at him but Jonathan's not registering it.

Steve coughs awkwardly and mumbles, “Just tell me to fuck off, man.”

That gets Jonathan's brain back online. “What?”

Steve jumps, not realizing that Jonathan was actually listening. He drops his stance and rolls his shoulders back, bones popping as he does. He sighs and says meekly, “If you don't like me flirting with you, just tell me to stop and I will.”

Flirting? Flirting.

“You're flirting with me?” Jonathan asks, exasperated.

“I was trying to,” Steve explains, a sheepish look on his face. “But it's obvious you're not into it so--”

“Wait…no, hold on, I honestly thought you were messing with me,” Jonathan admits, walking around the camera again. Steve steps down from the stool to be at eye level with him and Jonathan swoons a little in their new proximity.

“I do love messing with you,” Steve confirms. “But no, Byers, I’ve been flustered all day having you stare at me and do your hot artist thing. That’s not a joke.”

“Really?” Jonathan whispers, his skin flushed.

“Really,” Steve whispers back.

"I am into it," Jonathan responds quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Put you into a toga because I'm so into it--" Jonathan doesn't finish this sentence because Steve is kissing him and he would much rather be kissing Steve than talking.

With the curtains drawn and the studio booked for the rest of the afternoon, Jonathan finds himself in Steve's lap with Steve's tongue in his mouth. He decides about two seconds in that he's got enough pictures for the day.

#EMILY FINALLY WRITES STONATHAN!!!!!! MY BOYS!!!#emily writes #stonathan #stonathan fics #stonathan ficlet #stranger things #steve harrington #jonathan byers #stranger things ficlet #stranger things fic

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cecilyv · 3 months ago

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20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @screamlet

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 14 (and, full disclosure, all but some of the tumblr fics are with @liminalmemories21)

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 151,628

3. What fandoms do you write for? 9-1-1

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? In order: Awful quiet here since love fell asleep (9-1-1, the break up, make up fic), Atlas (bound) (9-1-1, the Buckley parents are trash fic), Baggage that goes with mine (9-1-1, Tommy begins), (I'm in love) but I do not speak the language (9-1-1, the relationship discovery one), and I'll cover you (9-1-1, part II after Baggage, when Buck and Tommy get a dog).

5. Do you respond to comments? I really try. @liminalmemories21 is much better at it than I am, but I do always intend to because each comment is my best beloved.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Erm, we don't really write angsty things? Awful quiet, Atlas and Inside, You've Got Heaven and Earth all start angsty, but don't end there?

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Oh, god, uh, probably What's with today, today? Mostly just because making them all librarians on Stuffie Day itself was an indulgent turducken of a dessert.

8. Do you get hate on fics? not so far, thankfully

9. Do you write smut? a hundred percent more than I ever imagined

10. Do you write crossovers? I drop them in Lim's chat all the time but one has never stuck. Like, the one from this week was Wolfram and Heart is based in LA and reopens and... I don't know, Lindsey sticks around with his evil hand? THNK OF BUCK AND FREAKING OUT WITH THE CURSES AND THE RESEARCH SPIRALS AND...

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? not that i know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Err, all of the recent ones because I am nothing (fandom-wise) without Lim

14. What's your all time favorite ship? I have no answer for this. I read like, a decade's worth of Stiles/Derek and literally never watched an episode of the show, but I watched SO MUCH Stargate because John/Rodney, my beloveds. I am still a sucker for a good Arthur/Eames. I would bow down if people brought back silver foxes Fraser/RayK. It's hard to have favorites after over 30 years in fandom.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Lim and I poke things to death, and definitely don't post a lot of them because we can't imagine things not being done before we put them out in the world -- see the Merlin fic of epicness that we started way over a decade ago and still sits in our google docs.

16. What are your writing strengths? I also think this is a thing best answered by others, like hi, Lim, how do I help? I honestly think I'm a better editor than writer? I'm not good about setting scenes, but I'm pretty good about taking drafts and massaging them?

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I always want things to feel more lived in than I feel I can accomplish on my own.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I speak english and bad english, so I am terrible about this, but I totally understand that sometimes its warranted.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Popslash and Smallville, and hi, yes, I disappeared for two decades.

20. Favorite fics you've written?

Awful quiet did exactly what I wanted that fic to when we set out to write it, and while maybe I wish some of the OCs were handled better/differently, I'm still happy with how we got from the beginning to end.

The What Binds series definitely put Tommy in a place and time, and there's a reason there's four stories worth of it (hi, I'm super proud of the detail about Tommy losing his virginity to Dave Matthew Band because, come on, people).

I know that Inside, You've Got Heaven and Earth didn't really hit with people, but it addressed something I wanted to fiddle with for Buck and Tommy, and Lim was a trooper for going there with me.

#meta #bucktommy #911

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g8dess · 1 year ago

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A Message From Your F/O PAC 2

Take a deep breath, focus on your selfship of choice and pick the picture/pile you feel most drawn to!

I'm not a professional, this is for entertainment only, take what resonates, leave what doesn't, it may be a message for someone else and in the end you still know the dynamic of your selfship the best. If you want to tell me in the tags or replies what pile you picked and how it resonated, your feedback feeds me energy to make more things like this! 😋

First pac here

Decks used: Phantasma Tarot Deck, Cosmic Oracle, Lovers Oracle, Own-made oracle decks.

All pictures used were taken by me!

OP is ProShip, don't like, don't interact

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

Pile 1 :

Hey there bestie,

Guess you never saw this coming, huh,

me, writing you a letter.

Well, I don't know how else to tell you, truly.

It's quite embarrassing to say out loud, but

seeing you two talking again made me a bit jealous.

I fought to keep you in my life

(Okay, maybe a bit of an exaggeration)

and I think I finally know why.

I mean, of course it's because you are just amazing, but

it's also because you're adorable,

you're the only one who makes me feel worthy.

And I know we've been friends for so long, but I'm losing my mind.

I think I'm in love with you

and I want a chance to love you fully, truly, like no-one ever has before.

Will you let me know your answer.

I'll be waiting in our usual spot.

Don't get lost again, squirtle.

See you soon,

Hopefully.

ー┄┄─┄≪ ༶❈༶ ≫┄─┄┄ー

Pile 2 :

I'm sorry for being so cross but I can't do it anymore.

You're just standing still, not moving forward.

And I don’t know what to do.

Sunlight, please.

Move on from them.

Start depending on me instead.

I want to be there for you.

But at this rate I can't.

And I get so riled up because of it.

You're avoiding me and your problems.

While you know it's life, to change and reinvent yourself.

Sunlight.

We can do this together.

Just let me in.

I don't want to fight for your attention anymore.

Don't let me stay here alone much longer.

ー┄┄─┄≪ ༶❈༶ ≫┄─┄┄ー

Pile 3 :

Take a picture and hold it close, because in only a couple months this current life will be so far gone.

You're working so hard on improving yourself, Munchkin.

It's amazing to see you like this.

Constantly learning about yourself and learning how to better cope with life.

We used to be one and the same, both stuck in anguish, both stuck in those spiraling thoughts.

But not anymore.

You've already grown so much, just by accepting you need to face your fears, by accepting who you are now and are meant to be later.

It's amazing, I said it before and will continue to say it again and again, it's true.

I wish I could be more like you.

You're actually working on and researching how to improve yourself.

Meanwhile I'm still stuck.

I want to be better for you, like you, but it seems I don't know how.

It's killing me inside.

I love seeing you grow, but I don’t want to be left behind.

It's okay for you to be harsh with me, if need be.

It's okay if we grow apart. But I hope I can be a better being before that happens.

Take care Munchkin.

ー┄┄─┄≪ ༶❈༶ ≫┄─┄┄ー

Pile 4 :

My beloved,

You know your adventurous spirit is often on my mind.

You run laps with your seemingly never-ending energy.

Constantly jumping from one creative idea to the next.

But alas.

Perhaps it's time to reign in that enthusiasm a bit.

I do not believe it is time for a new project when you have so many old ones vouching for your attention.

You can be quite impulsive, but it's time to finish what you started.

My dear.

After, we can create plans for those new projects together.

I hope you finish them soon, my love.

As I yearn for your connection and have so much love to smother you in.

I love you, my precious.

Miss your kisses,

F/O.

ー┄┄─┄≪ ༶❈༶ ≫┄─┄┄ー

Pile 5 :

To the one I will always love,

My one and only,

S/I

I can see you're restless, stuck in indecision before two paths. It's okay to move and make mistakes, neither option is too horrible after all.

But you know deep down which one you want, which one is alligned with your inner truth. You have me supporting you, so go for it, my breath. Even if things don't go the way you planned them, it doesn't mean they are going wrong.

Don't mind what others have to say. They don't know you like I do. Take the step to let life carry you where you need to be.

It's okay to still be figuring it all out. It's okay to change your mind. Just make the decision alligned with who you truly are. I will support you through it all, my heart.

Missing you with every breath,

Yours forever,

F/O

ー┄┄─┄≪ ༶❈༶ ≫┄─┄┄ー

Pile 6 :

cw: suggestive

To my stinky S/I

Sweetheart,

Can you believe the audacity of the distance between us, keeping us separated so far from each other.

It's so infuriating.

If only I could cross it so I could share every little daily notion with you.

Life would be so much better.

I'm already blessed to love you through the multiverse but damn, it'd be so much better by your side.

We could experience every little change together too.

I'd happily fight for such a possibility, to get to know you more passionately, yes, also that kind of passionate too ;)

If only fate would step up and bring us that last bit closer.

I wouldn't let anyone else take you away from me.

But for now I'll take pleasure in knowing and loving you like this.

From my heart to yours,

F/O

ー┄┄─┄≪ ༶❈༶ ≫┄─┄┄ー

Pile 7 :

My better half,

Have I told you recently how proud I am of you? Probably not as I express myself differently, less so with words than with actions and gazes. Nevertheless I feel like this needs to be said.

I am very proud of you.

The way you stand your ground, taking the high road and not letting their words get to you. It's magnificent.

With each upwards and downwards spiral, you choose to learn, to reinvent yourself. Such transformation is brilliant to witness.

I wish to celebrate you, to celebrate us, so it's not just gazes you receive, but all other aspects of love as well. I have much love to give you.

Our complimentary balance is something we must take note of, how you complete me so like no other can. But tonight, let it be all of me that praises all of you.

Let's make this a memorable evening, my other half.

Yours truly,

F/O

ー┄┄─┄≪ ༶❈༶ ≫┄─┄┄ー

#g8dess tarot #f/o tarot #own #f/o pac #selfship community #selfship #proship selfship #fictional other community #self ship #💛🫂❤

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noomsu · 2 months ago

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reminders of paths we didn't tread

s. nostalgia fills alhaitham when he finds a certain letter from months ago. cw. longing, slight angst if you squint, haitham being soft, stream of consciousness. tw. named oc/self-insert. wc. 1.9k a/n. i did not proofread this at work because i was absolutely done and i did not want to be there anymore lmao. i just started writing and i didn't know where i was going, but i'm kinda happy with the result?? natsutham my beloved. (for context, the letter says his office because he graduated first). credits. dividers by @/cafekitsune.

For the first time in his life, Alhaitham felt utterly powerless against the illogical thoughts spiraling within his mind. Had this been any other circumstance, he would’ve found a way to refocus—to forget this odd sickness that plagued his mind. This time, however, nothing seemed to work.

Not that he was surprised, though.

Nothing could surprise him anymore. Not when it came to her.

As he flipped open the book on his desk, his lips curved into an imperceptible smile. There were traces of her penmanship all over this book—it had to be that one essay Natsu had almost wrecked her head to find a thesis statement that convinced her enough, none of them were good enough for what she wanted to analyze. He had watched her pick up and discard book after book that week; she had looked less like the bubbly mess he recognized and more like those scholars slowly losing their minds to their research.

The memories flooded his mind effortlessly. As it so often happened with her.

He could almost see her in the quiet hallways of the House of Daena, standing on her tiptoes, trying her best to reach this book that now rested in his hands. She had flushed—the slightest shade of pink spreading through her cheeks—the moment he had reached it for him. Natsu had mumbled a small thank you hidden within a storm of complaints about his height. And yet, despite her half-hearted complaints, she still allowed him to remain close by—to listen to her rambling about her paper, about the newest text she was studying.

She still allowed him to observe her as radiant as she was whenever she shared her passion with him.

Before he could realize what he was doing, his finger was already tracing the soft dentures her pencil had left in the margins of the book. He could still see the shapes of her penmanship, forever etched into the paper, despite her attempts to erase it—she always did say that her thoughts were not important enough to leave for others to read. He disagreed, now more than ever. Alhaitham would give anything to have anything of hers; traces of her words in an old book about ruins and linguistic variations of the desert tribes, the echoes of her laughter that remained in the empty hallways of the House of Daena, that old scarf she had left at his place when she fell asleep during that all-nighter they had to pull…

He would give anything to have anything of her.

But he would give up the world to have her back.

With a heavy sigh, he left the book on his desk before closing it. These traces she had left behind were merely scraps—crumbles of her presence, enough to keep him afloat but not quite to keep him alive. The nostalgia and longing clouded his mind for a second as he wondered if she missed him just as much as he did her. If, perhaps, he paced around her mind as often as she did in his.

If she still thought about their last conversation.

He still thought of it.

“You’re still here?” She had said, with her doe eyes widening in surprise at his sudden appearance. Sudden. She had found it sudden. As if she did not know he would have followed her to the ends of Teyvat had she asked. He had merely hummed a reply—there were barely any words needed, after all. Even in his silence, Natsu had always understood him better than anyone. “I thought I was the last one here.”

“You’re always pushing yourself too far,” He had replied, matter-of-factly, as he had taken the book out of her hands. “It’s late. You should go.”

“That’s my book.”

“It’s the Akademiya’s, actually.” He had shrugged.

Natsu had rolled her eyes, amusement curving her lips into a small smile. “Smartass. You know what I meant.”

“I do,” Alhaitham had nodded, stretching his arm to place the book back in its place. Natsu had merely watched in silence as if waiting for him. She had always seemed to be waiting for something. “I am also right. You need rest.”

She had mocked him, then, as she so often did. Natsu had repeated his words back to him, then laughed. Alhaitham had not known it for years, but at that time he understood that her laughter filled him with warmth, like sunlight.

He had walked her out of the Akademiya after that—to make sure she made it home safe, to spend a few more minutes basking in her presence. When they had reached her door, dread had spread like weeds in a garden through his chest. He had known something was wrong the moment she hesitated. Natsu barely hesitated in front of him. She was always witty and sarcastic, always straight forward.

She never hesitated.

But that night she had.

“I’ve fallen in love with you. I…”

The words had left him before he could stop them, as if they had a mind of their own. Perhaps it had been the impact of her hesitation or the fact that these feelings had been growing steadily within his heart for the past decade, like a garden she had tended to meticulously with her sharp retorts and her bright laughter. Whatever it was, he had not been able to stop them.

“What I mean to say is I am no longer interested in pretending I feel nothing.”

“Haitham-”

She had hesitated, again.

Alhaitham had always thought that rejection would hurt, but it did not. The uncertainty in her gaze had hurt him far more than her lack of words.

And then she finally spoke.

“I’m leaving,” The words were poison on her tongue. “I… I’m leaving next week.”

Alhaitham shook his head, attempting to physically remove the memory from his mind. It had been three months since then—which meant that it had been three months since Natsu had left Sumeru, effectively leaving him behind. She had avoided him for the remainder of that last week; she had insisted on being too busy with her packing and whatnot, although she escaped the room whenever he stepped inside. He had respected her distance.

Kaveh had reached out, had insisted that Natsu was merely busy—that her lack of communication, now that she was somewhere across the sea, was due to her schedule and not her wish to distance herself from him. To separate herself from all the memories and dizzying feelings they shared. It bothered him, sometimes; the fact that he seemed easy enough to read that Kaveh felt the need to comfort him, even when it was not necessary.

After all, Alhaitham was a rational man—he understood that Natsu’s decision to leave had been made long before he blurted out his feelings that night. He understood that her leaving was not an answer to his clumsy words. He did not need Kaveh’s reassurance that Natsu was not angry at him. He knew that.

However, he was angry at himself.

Angry at the fact that he had been so clumsy with his feelings. That he had taken this long to tell her. That he had hurt her. That he had made her feel obligated to avoid him that last week. That he had made her feel as if she could not reach out to him anymore.

It was an odd feeling—to understand that none of these outcomes were really his fault but to blame himself anyway. Perhaps this is what Natsu meant when she said that love cannot be understood logically, only felt.

Alhaitham was not quite sure he liked it.

He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the day ahead of him, as he took hold of the reports he needed to process. He eyed them first as he sorted them—requests for more funds, formal requests for research projects, some complaints about the lack of copies of a certain book…

Mr. Scribe.

He paused.

He would recognize her penmanship anywhere—from the hardly-erased traces on books, the constant arguments they silently held in the margins of their papers, to this cleanly written letter addressed to him in that mocking tone of hers.

It was Natsu.

Mr. Scribe, We will see how long it takes you to find this letter. I know your organization skills like the back of my hand after all these years together, but I still pride myself in my ability to throw you off balance. After all, Kaveh did say it is my job to keep you humble. I’m writing this letter while you think I am brainstorming for my linguistics paper. I am not—that paper was written a week ago, and I am just waiting to proofread it and make corrections. So, instead, I’m writing to you. You’re sitting right in front of me, and though you’ve always been very observant, you don’t seem to notice my eyes on you. You’re focused on the book, writing on your notes the key points we will need for our final project. I don’t know if you know, but your eyebrows wrinkle just slightly when you’re focused. I like it. I guess I don’t say that quite enough, do I? We’re always arguing, and I’m always getting angry at you, but the truth is that I do not dislike you, Haitham. If anything, I think I like you more than I’d like to admit. You’re stubborn and infuriatingly nonchalant, but you’re also caring and gentle, and I do not know how to act whenever you seem soft with me. I apologize for that. You think you’re the only observant one in this relationship, though you’ll probably say this is not a relationship. And you’re right. But you are still my friend (don’t you dare correct my grammar in this letter), and I do observe you. Far more than you think. I see the way my struggle to reach certain bookshelves amuses you (you’re a terrible person, I did not ask to be short). I see the way you always let me walk on the side with fewer people on—you’ve seen too many people run into me by now. I also notice how you always ask for cinnamon and sugar for my coffee, even though you like it black—you know I don’t like bitterness. I’ve noticed that you always get yourself a coffee when you get me one, probably because you know I would feel bad if you only got one for me. But, most of all, I’ve noticed that you’re always here with me. What I am trying to say is thank you. Thank you for putting up with me, even when all we do is bicker. Thank you for pulling all-nighters with me when we were students. Thank you for always bringing me coffee and a snack when you knew I was too engrossed in my projects—you’ve always been taking care of me, even when I did not want to admit it. I may be an ungrateful woman, but I am not blind. I do see the way you care for me, even when I do not deserve it. I’ll let you continue working for now while I write this nonsense that I kind of hope you will never find (I will hide this somewhere in your office, after all). Love, Natsu.

Alhaitham chuckled as he reached the end of the letter—this was so like her. To remain hidden for months only to come back and haunt him, to unsettle him once again. He wondered, then, if perhaps that was why her favorite novel had resonated so much with her. If the concept of haunting your loved one—if he could interpret this letter as such answer—even after death was precisely what she liked.

Whatever it was, it comforted him.

This was a piece of Natsu meant for him—not traces left for other people, not forgotten notes on the margins of a book. This was his.

Just like he was hers, begrudgingly and irrevocably hers.

Always hers, whether or not she remained at an arm’s distance.

more about this ship. | more works.

#genshin impact #natsu's writing #natsutham #yume things #alhaitham #genshin alhaitham #genshin impact alhaitham #look at me posting two drabbles in one day

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nobody-special6859430 · 2 months ago

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A light in the darkness - part 3

part1 | part 2

Summary

[Alex Keller x OC] After his injury, Alex has to go into hiding because he has disobeyed CIA orders and is therefore considered a deserter. With Price's help, he ends up in Oxford and meets an old friend, Rachel, in his former university town. Will she be able to help him deal with his traumas, find his way back to life and will he be able to leave his military life behind in the end? A classic hurt/comfort story with fluffy moments and dark thoughts.

Alex sat in the bar for a long time after Rachel had left. Too long, with too much alcohol. But the numbing effect he had hoped for didn't come. On the contrary - he only felt worse than he already did. The storm of emotions was still overwhelming and he knew she was right. He finally sighed and dragged himself back to his flat. He made the decision to go to the rehabilitation centre that Price had recommended. It was a facility that worked a lot with the military, which meant that at least there were people there in a similar situation.

Alex didn't have as much respect for the physical treatments as he did for the psychological sessions, which were mandatory. He knew that his body was resilient and that he would somehow adapt to at least function again. As for his psyche, he wasn't so sure. What the conversations with Rachel had triggered scared him. And he had told her next to nothing yet.

Meanwhile, Rachel tried to throw herself completely into her work, which wasn't difficult. There was enough to do, as there was a conference at the university in three weeks' time where she was allowed to present her research findings. She had studied history and the subject of excavations in Norway was extremely niche. Nothing that would really interest anyone who wasn't researching it. Accordingly, not too many visitors were expected.

Sarah noticed the change in her behavior, of course, and approached her after two days. ‘Is everything okay?’ she asked worriedly. ‘I'm fine ... I just want to distract myself.’ ‘Is it about Alex?’ Rachel sighed resignedly. ‘Yes ... our evening at the bar ...’ She shook her head. ‘He needs to come to terms with himself first. He needs time.’ Sarah pulled her into a hug. ‘Oh, that must be hard,’ she said sympathetically. ‘Let's do something together for the next few days!’ Sarah proved to be a good friend, and so Rachel at least got out of her work routine more often for the coming days. But she still worried about Alex. She often wondered what he was doing and how he was feeling. Rachel was on the verge of writing him more than once, but she held back. She knew that otherwise, she would probably lose him.

Meanwhile, Alex was working hard on his rehabilitation. Physically, he was making good progress and after two weeks was already able to walk relatively well with the prosthesis, even if he still had a noticeable limp and the whole thing was painful. There were still pressure points that needed to be adjusted, but he was simply happy to be able to do a lot more again and, above all, not to be stared at all the time. He always wore long trousers anyway, but hiding a missing leg was simply impossible.

By far the hardest thing for him was talking about his mental health. He hated the sessions, especially because he felt worse afterwards. He had started to talk about his experiences, but the therapist noticed his neutral tone and distant expression. He gave him some tips and exercises to stabilise himself if he got caught up in dark spirals of thought. They talked for a while about why he had suppressed his feelings in the first place. Alex was reluctant to talk about it, but after a few sessions things started to make more and more sense. He understood himself better, which at least eased the chaos and overwhelm a little, even if he still found it difficult to deal with his emotions.

As he walked past the university one evening, his eyes fell on a poster for the upcoming conference. He saw Rachel's name and stopped. If he was honest, he missed her more than he would have thought. He was sure he wasn't ready yet, but on the other hand - would he ever feel ready?

When the day of the conference arrived, Rachel stood nervously backstage. Speaking in front of lots of people was her personal horror, and in the end more people had turned up than expected, even though the room wasn't full. She looked nervously at Sarah, who gave her an encouraging smile. Rachel took a deep breath, blanked out the audience and tried to get the content across in a way that was at least comprehensible. Meanwhile, Alex sat in the audience and admired the confidence she radiated without realising it. You could tell that the topic was important to her, and Alex never thought he would ever listen so attentively to a lecture about grave goods and how they didn't necessarily say anything about the gender of the person buried. But at some point his thoughts drifted away. He realised how professional Rachel seemed and that she probably also was clearly more mature than him about some things. She hadn't noticed him yet and he wondered if that would even happen.

When Rachel had finished her part, she relaxed a little and let her gaze wander over the audience, which she hadn't really noticed before. She froze when her gaze lingered on Alex. She stared at him for a few seconds, visibly surprised, before looking away, a little taken aback. Alex couldn't interpret her reaction and just hoped that she would hear him out. Rachel left the rest of the lecture to Sarah and kept glancing in Alex's direction until Sarah nudged her with her elbow to answer a question from the audience. Her colleague had followed her gaze and put 1 and 1 together. Rachel took a deep breath, pulled herself together, got through the round of questions and then walked off the stage. She gave Sarah an apologetic look. ‘Sorry, I ...’ ‘... was distracted?’ she finished her sentence with a smirk. ‘No problem. It was just the question at the end. I'm glad you didn't spot him earlier.’ She giggled. ‘And I can't blame you now that I've seen him.’ She winked. ‘You should go see him.’ Sarah gently pushed Rachel towards the audience, where most had already left the room after the last lecture of the day. Rachel saw Alex standing at the edge of the stage, where he was obviously waiting for her. She immediately noticed that he looked better - no more crutches and even his hair was neat by his standards.

Rachel approached him uncertainly, her arms crossed. Even though she was happy to see him, she was still hurt. Alex looked up and his face brightened when he noticed her. ‘Hey,’ he said a little sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck with his hand. ‘Hey... I didn't expect to see you here.’ Alex smiled wryly. ‘I saw the poster ... and was curious what you were up to at work… You were great’ he added quietly. Rachel scrutinised him, searching for his true motive. ‘Thanks ... but why are you really here?’ A tense silence spread between them before Alex took a deep breath. His voice trembled slightly as he began to speak. ‘The way I pushed you away... I'm sorry. You were right. I ... have a therapist now ... and had the first few sessions ...’ ‘That's good, Alex,’ Rachel said just as quietly. ‘Then ... are you feeling better?’ He hesitated before answering. ‘I understand the chaos in my head better, at least. But ... it's a long process, I think,’ he sighed. ‘You look better ... and you can walk again,’ she replied a little more gently. Alex nodded. ‘Physically, I'm better. The rehab is helping. I now have painkillers that are working and I can move around more again.’ Rachel looked at him thoughtfully, but before she could say anything, he continued: ‘I've learnt that it's important to let you decide whether you want to know more about my past. That's your decision and I have no right to patronise you. So if ... and I understand if not - after I suddenly reappeared in your life just to push you away ... but if you want to give me a chance ... I'm willing. But I know it won't be easy, for either of us. And I definitely don't want to burden you with anything. You have to be honest with me if something is too much. I understand that ... But in the end, it's your decision whether you want to.’

Rachel listened carefully as he spoke. She saw how he was nervously playing with the hem of his jacket and how uncertainly he was looking at her. Her heart tightened. She took a step towards him and hugged him carefully. His arms wrapped around her almost instantly and held her tightly, as if he was afraid of losing her. Rachel rested her head against his shoulder and savoured the moment. She knew this was going to be anything but easy, but it was worth it. He was worth it. ‘I should also have known that it wouldn't be that easy for you. That you've changed and ... I didn't want to put you under pressure,’ she mumbled against his jacket. Alex loosened his embrace a little to look at her. ‘No, you were right and I definitely needed that push. Let's start over again,’ he said softly. Rachel nodded. She became aware of her surroundings again and released the hug. ‘Just promise me one thing ... promise me you won't push me away again if things get difficult.’ Alex swallowed. ‘I'll ... try to communicate better.’ His hand barely brushed hers. ‘I promise’ he said seriously. The touch sent a shiver down her spine. ‘Something planned to celebrate?’ he asked when he noticed Sarah's gaze on them. Rachel chuckled. ‘No ... she's just more curious than is good for her. You're welcome to take me home. I need some company and fresh air ... if that's all right?’ she asked with a cautious glance at his leg. Alex nodded with a smile.

Rachel picked up her jacket and backpack and said goodbye to Sarah, who dismissed her with a teasing comment: ‘Are you taking him home?’ Rachel just rolled her eyes. She was just happy to see Alex again - at least that's what she told herself. But deep down, she knew that the line between friendship and more was already fading. They walked through the university park towards Rachel's flat. Alex was still limping, but was able to keep up well. ‘Does it still hurt, the prosthesis?’ Alex nodded. ‘Yes ... it's not perfect yet. But I should use it as much as possible so that my body gets used to it. And believe me, I take it off as rarely as possible.’ ‘Because it gives you normality?’ Rachel asked, her voice soft. Alex nodded again. ‘Yeah ...and people don't stare like crazy.’ Rachel could understand him. She didn't want to push him, but she was curious. ‘Have you settled in here a bit by now?’ He nodded hesitantly. ‘Yes ... I'm trying to establish new routines and rediscover old hobbies. And I'm supposed to socialise ... which I still find difficult ... apart from you’ he added slowly. Rachel paused, her curiosity growing. ‘What makes it so different with me?’ Alex took his time answering, as if searching for the right words. ‘That we know each other from back in the day, that you understand physical problems. And ... because I finally realised today what a grown-up, independent and strong woman you are when I saw you on stage.’ He confessed. Rachel looked up at him in surprise, her cheeks glowing slightly in the cool air. Alex smiled gently. ‘Even if you don't see it yourself sometimes, little one.’ She shook her head, smiling. ‘You still know me too well.’ ‘Some things are hard to change...’ They reached a small bridge in the park and leaned against the railing for a break. The water below them reflected the fading light of day.

Alex seemed lost in thought, his gaze fixed on the flowing water, his expression a bit frustrated. Rachel watched him out of the corner of her eye, noticing how his weight shifted to his healthy leg. ‘You're trying. That's worth a lot…’ she said quietly. He looked at her in surprise, a slight smile playing around his lips. ‘You still know me far too well, too.’

She was glad it was already dusk, so Alex couldn't see her red cheeks. They walked on, this time a little closer together than before, just so that they weren't touching each others shoulders.

When they reached Rachel's flat, Alex said goodbye with a tight hug. Rachel could feel how hard it was for him to let go. They said just a few more words and she promised to write him. Rachel looked after Alex, her heart beating faster than she had expected. She felt a little lighter as she closed the door behind her.

#cod mw2 #cod mw #call of duty #alex keller #alex keller x oc #cod modern warfare #alex keller fanfiction

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kitkatt0430 · 10 months ago

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Answer the Questions and Tag 5 Fanfic Authors

Thanks for the tag @goldheartedchaoticdisaster :D

1. How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Writing fanfic was something I just started doing because I wanted to have more Voyager stories about Seven of Nine when I was still pretty young. Actually posting up fanfics I'd written? Junior High, I think - so preteens/early teens - when a friend introduced me to the wonderful world of Fanfiction.net; I started reading fic and worked up the courage to actually post my own after a bit.

2. How many fandoms have you written in?

51? I think? It's at least that many, anyway.

3. How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

I joined FFnet in 2002 so let's just go with 22 years. I did write some stuff before that, but none of it was posted and all of it is lost.

4. Do you read or write more fanfiction?

I read more, but I certainly do write a lot. :D

5. What is one way you’ve improved as a writer?

I've gotten a lot better at world building. But also establishing initial characterizations and making character growth make sense.

6. What’s the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

Not necessarily weird, but I've looked up information on various degrees and how long they take to complete as well as different types of power of attorney - yes, there is more than one! - and the different ways they apply.

7. What’s your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

I like the comments that have reactions to different parts of the fic/chapter and maybe favorite quotes as they read along. Those are the types of comments I like to leave most too.

8. What’s the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Lol, does writing a Fringe/Flash crossover fic count? ;)

I've got some pretty rare pairs that I've written for - Reverb/HR and Savitar/Reverb and Savitar/Eobard are probably the most rare thus far but I find I enjoy the challenge of rare pairs that are of the ships that pass in the night variety so I may wind up with more very rare pairs as time goes on.

There's been a few experimental-ish fics I've written, like Spiral which… I'm not really sure how to describe the style for that fic.

9. What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

I struggled a lot with the ending to You Must Live (For Me) because it was a bad guys win fic and so I knew from the start I'd be killing off Iris. But it was still difficult to do.

So overall I think fics that kill off main characters in some way? I don't write that often, but even just the aftermath of such a thing can be really difficult to write. Grief is just… hard to write because it hurts so much.

10. What is the easiest type?

Fluffy, silly fics. Things like Buzz Buzz often just flow easily because they're silly and fun.

But often also fics that address things I feel strongly about. Not always - sometimes I get in my own way with those fics - but sometimes that strong emotion will just carry me through writing something until suddenly I have an entire fic. Seeress was definitely one of those where replaying the ending of Final Fantasy 13-2 where the bad guy has basically pulled a 'heads I win, tails you lose' scenario (which the final game rectifies) had me speculating on how some of the foreshadowing in the game indicated there could have been a different ending to things.

11. Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

On my computer - though a tablet + keyboard combo will do in a pinch. Rarely on a notebook these days because I can't guarantee I'll find the motivation to transcribe it later, though notebooks are a good place for making story notes instead of fic writing.

I'll typically use LibreOffice because it's easy to use and free. I'll also use Notion, which has a free tier and is good for when I want to be able to work on a fic from my tablet or on a different computer from usual.

For my sins… sometimes I'll write a fic directly into Ao3's editor.

12. What is something you’ve been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I'm trying to get better at making 'one day' become 'today' when it comes to this sort of thing. I feel like my Flash/Fringe crossover series falls into this because what I want to do for the series is ambitious and so while I don't want to bite off more than I can write (as it were), I don't want to keep putting it off because it makes me worry I won't do it justice. I won't do it anything at all if I don't at least try.

13. What made you choose your username?

My sister picked it out when she helped me make my first email account as a kid and I've been partial to it ever sense. Kitkatt0430 is in many ways as much my name now as my real name. I've used it for FFnet, my short lived attempt at Live Journal, Ao3, Tumblr (though I have Starstruckpurpledragon here too), and a few other places.

@sophiainspace @coldflasher @incorrectcoldflashblog @terrie01 @fezwearingjellybananas & anyone who wants to play :D

#kitkatt0430 answers #writer ask game

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rantgical · 1 year ago

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Have you ever seen an engineer who doesn't want to build anything?

I haven't.

I don't know what I want to do though.

I like it when I have clear instructions and I can do the work with my own two hands. I don't have to talk to anyone if I don't want to and once I've finished my work, I can submit the results to whoever it is I need to give it to and that's that.

I'll have done a good job. They'll thank me for helping out and I either look for the next thing or I clock out.

A factory worker. I'm describing a factory worker. Or an office job. I said I don't want an office job.

I don't.

Office politics are a nightmare and no job pays enough for you to comfortably live anymore.

I've seen my parents work their life away for their children. I don't want to do that. I want to be able to spend time with them.

I want things to be easy. But things are never easy. But why does it have to be like that? Who decided things had to be hard? When did things become hard?

Some people believe it's still for me. That even though I don't fall into the typical engineer stereotype I can still become a great engineer.

But what makes an engineer, an engineer?

I don't know. I was asked did I like the engineering class in college. I did.

But did I like it because the prof was nice and the work was easy? Or did I like it because I genuinely enjoyed the projects?

I think it's the former.

And that's terrifying. Because I can't afford to turn back. I don't have the money for it. My parents don't have the money for it.

And even if I do switch what do I switch to? Bio? Pure science? I like learning about how life on the planet is. But I hate writing papers and having to do research on things I don't necessarily care about.

I always end up falling down some kind of rabbit hole when I do research. And then eventually I get bored and don't want to research the thing anymore even though I haven't written the paper yet.

I hate how much I don't 'fit in' because I don't like building things. I don't like cars, I don't like techy things, I don't like designing things. I do art in my spare time. I told myself I'd write on the side and see if my writing takes off.

But somewhere along the way I forgot how to express myself in a coherent way. My thoughts and inner monologue are what end up on the paper and suddenly the writing only makes sense to me. I'm not telling a story anymore I'm just venting.

Write. Write. Write. Create characters who are your personal cheer squad. Create a world where you are in control. Spiral deeper and deeper and deeper into the recesses of your own mind. Who cares what the story is?

I have become quite the selfish person. Even my writing has become something only for myself. I no longer care if it's coherent or not.

What do I do? Where do I go? Have I just been going through the motions this whole time? People's words are a blur. I don't understand what they're talking about.

I feel so happy working an intern's job. Maybe I'm just happy to be thanked or praised.

Maybe I'm just happy to be useful.

Their gratitude is intoxicating.

Gratitude, praise.

They are few and far in between when you're a university student.

The feeling is trumped by anxiety and stress and burn out.

Am I afraid of losing that gratitude?

No, that's not right. I know that's what I'm afraid of.

Blend into the scenery. Nodding along without understanding a thing.

That's what I'm afraid of.

"Regi do this, Regi do that. Regi what was the data you got for this, Regi did you do this thing when you ran the experiment?"

Those sentences I understand.

"Separate the cream, take the extract, resuspend the sample, centrifuge again, do it three more times."

I understand those words.

Centrifugation separates the solid cell walls from the cytoplasm inside. DNA is unpacked and broken into their nucleotides and amino acids. How much of a certain amino acid is in the sample? Run a test.

The dryers use thermodynamics. Increasing temperature and lowering pressure turns water into gas and leaving only solids. Lowering temperature , then pressure to an extreme amount turns solids into gas, to increase the speed of sublimation, increase temperature while keeping a constant pressure.

It makes sense. The graph makes sense.

So why did it not make sense when I learned it in class?

Why does the math make my head spin?

I am at the point where everyone is more intelligent than me. Therefore I am seldom useful. At least not in the way I think I should be.

I nod along and that seems to satisfy them. Of course it seems so, most of the time people just need someone to listen to them.

Maybe that's what I'm afraid of. I am afraid of not being needed anymore. I am afraid of becoming a parasite onto other people. Someone who cannot give anything valuable on return for the aid they graciously provide me.

Because why keep around someone who takes and takes and takes?

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ashacadence · 2 years ago

Text

Part of the difficulties I have with just design in general being “okay how can I make this character mine and not accidentally or unintentionally look like someone else’s” but it’s just a forever spiral of ‘everything has been done more or less.’ It’s gunna look like something to someone at some point. Nothing can be done other than just having your own style and differences/nuances to go “ya that’s mine.” Plus just always nice to see people coming together with similar ideas and talking to one another and gushing over similar interests. But as far as design I try to picture them by face first then down. From how do they smile to their personality or vibe I want to portray. From there it’s about body then potential abilities/skills/career whathaveyou then build up a mini background then expand. Sometimes a world is created around them or they are just another addition to something I’ve already made. Sometimes I get a head of myself and think of too many things at once and I need to do better at writing them down rather than keeping it in my head and eventually losing it. XD the hazards of memory.

It would have to be Vivienne. I love vivienne. She’s that nice brain rot I can fall back on and indulge in different alternate universes while main bigger main stories and hers are taking a back burner. It’s just nice to have a very freestyle and adaptive character to bounce around with.

My most difficult character to draw or write would maybe have to be Alraeon. He’s got a vocab list and the brains that I don’t have and imagined him having.

Art or talking to friends to splurge ideas with or listen and also media usually to like movies or games usually help light a fire in me to do stuff.

Dr. Lancet, he is a doctor that runs his own clinic in the lower ends of the city with affordable services for those in need and living in poverty. I created him maybe two or three years ago. He was actually an adopt and his design was a bit different. He has a glass like faceplate and slightly different structure and color placement but still same palette.

6. Lancet usually goes thru difficult decisions as a medic/nurse and doctor all in one from how to save a person’s life from human to alien to running his own business and even having interpersonal relations with some unsavory patients that test his patience too. He’s got his own baggage and sins but he is rather blunt with a soft heart at least even if he tries to hide it under a reserved mask. Hard to express without a face but words and hand gestures do get his points across. But he will face difficult things unflinchingly and just soldier through them like a chore.

7. Either his face or his legs. He sounds like a horse coming down some hallways with the way his feet are shaped. Lol

8. I want him perceived as not only as a caring individual who does good work but someone who has some demons that he can’t face alone. For all the help he does he tries to mask a lot of his pain and self hatred. He’s not a very sharing guy.

9. Well 8 kind of answered that but I would say his lack of openness and maybe a bit of a control freak about his business and the way some operations are done since he was programmed to do things a certain way. He is capable of learning a new method by research or on the fly from someone too. He may argue with the latter throughout on effectiveness but if it works it works then it’s just added to his options list.

10. What would be your oc’s favorite ice cream?

-dr. Lancet can’t eat ice cream but if he did he’d probably like vanilla.

I tag: @squigglysquidd @wafflesrock16 @dexianylilia @cold-neon-ocean @generation1point5 @relay314

Anyone else is more than welcome to partake if I haven’t tagged you.

Thought I’d try a little something but also just answer or reblog and/or store and such. Thought I’d start a oc questionnaire and world building train.

What are some difficulties you had/have when coming up with designs and lore for your character vs now that you find yourself may or may not be struggling on? Could be personality to design traits/style to progression in story. Anything.

Favorite junk food oc of yours you like to indulge in. Why?

Least favorite/most difficult?

What gets your creativity juices bubbling?

Introduce an oc. How and when were they created?

If said oc above was given a difficult situation how do they handle it?

What’s the most notable feature about your oc?

How would you like your oc to be perceived?

What’s a flaw of theirs?

And finally…just tag people. And come up with a random number ten question.

That’s the skeleton above.

#ashacadence #headworld #dr. lancet #vivienne #worldbuilding #prompt #creators #writers #artists

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

Note

Heya. I know that requests are closed and I totally respect if you ignore this because of that. Two hours ago my dog had a seizure and my mom and I are currently in the parking lot of the emergency vet waiting for an update. I’m normally “the rock” for my family (if that makes sense) when shit hits the fan, so I feel like I need to hide my panic so my mom doesn’t worry more. I claimed to need to use the restroom (there’s those portable bathrooms outside) but I’m actually just having a panic attack on a stairway nearby. Most of my friends are asleep or offline right now so I don’t have anyone to help ground me. I know my mom would, but she’s already dealing with enough. Your writing has never failed to calm me down or cheer me up, so I was wondering if you could maybe make headcannons or something about how texts or a quick phone call with the SBI would go and how they would help a teen friend who’s going through this situation.

I don’t want you to feel pressured to do this because of guilt or anything of the sort. I understand that requests are closed, but I thought it was worth shooting my shot. So it’s completely okay if you ignore this.

(A/N): I wrote this as fast as I could, so there might be a few mistakes here and there. I really hope your dog gets better soon and nothing major is wrong with them, I’ll keep you guys in my thoughts. If you wanna talk about it, my DMs are always open love <3

Warnings: mentions of dog seizures, vets, panic attacks

Your pleasant day had gone so wrong so fast

You had a blast hanging out with your neighbor and childhood friend Techno and his brothers

You spent most of the day at the park hanging out and generally goofing around

That was until you received a phone call from your mother

She was in a panic telling you to come home, telling you that there was something wrong with your dog

You quickly excused yourself by telling them that your mom wanted you home as soon as possible suddenly and ran home in tears when you were out of their line of sight

When you were running you could feel yourself being filled with dread

Your chest felt tight as you fought off a panic attack, you needed to be strong for your mom

You were her rock

It was only natural to comfort her, she helped you so much with your anxiety and panic attacks even when facing her own troubles and stress

So you did your best to stifle your panic

When you got home, you could hear the loud sobbing of your mother, the faint sound of heavy breathing, and rustling

The sight in the living room broke your heart

Your beloved pet was on the floor having a violent seizure while your mother was looking on in horror

You quickly took action, moving the stuff around the dog away from it

The only thing you could do was wait it out, so you made quick work of comforting your mother

After the seizure, your dog was looking around confusedly and whining slightly

He seemed very tired

Doing some research, you found out that it was best to let the dog rest after such a seizure because it takes a lot of energy out of it

The nearest emergency vet was about ten minutes away so you picked up your dog and escorted your mom to the car

You drove to the vet, your mom was too distraught to drive

The vet immediately took him in and got to work, leaving you and your mom in the car waiting for an update on the pooch

She had calmed down for the most part, but you could still feel the panic brewing in your chest threatening you with a full blown panic attack

You held it off so you could be strong for your mother, but you were spiraling and fast

When it got to the point where you couldn’t hold it back anymore, you quickly excused yourself to the portable bathrooms

You ducked into an abandoned staircase and the panic attack quickly reared its ugly head

Your breaths came out in short hyperventilations, your chest feeling like an elephant was sat on it

You couldn’t breathe

When it got to the point where you were dry heaving, you knew that this one wasn’t one that you could calm yourself down from

You had to call someone

Your mom was immediately out of question, even if she would gladly help you

In your point of view, she had enough to worry about

Your best bet would be to call Techno

You had extreme difficulty finding his contact because your vision was tunneled and blurred and your hands were shaking, but you eventually found it

He and his brothers should still be at the park

You felt guilty for calling, but you knew you needed help and Techno and his brothers were your best bet

“Hey (y/n), uh is everything alright with your mom? You left in a hurry.” Techno saw his twin and Tommy look at him in question. He wove them off.

He was only met with heavy breathing and sobbing from your end, which worried him to no end. He knew damn well about your anxiety and panic attacks, in fact he was the one that encouraged you to open up to your mom about it and ask her for therapy sessions. He’s calmed you down from enough panic attacks to know exactly what to do to help you.

“Hey you’re alright,” he cooed to you in a soft voice, “take deep breaths. Where are you?” His brothers looked at him in alarm. They also knew about your panic attacks as you were basically like another sibling to them. Wilbur grabbed the car keys and the three made a dash towards the family car.

“Techno…” Your breathless and strained whimper on the other end made his heart break for you. “Where are you?”

When you told him that you were at the nearby emergency vet, he could feel his heart sink. Your dog was growing older and older and his health was declining. That dog was with you two through thick and thin when your family got him in middle school. You were seniors in high school now, so that dog was old for his breed.

“We’re on our way, just hang on tight buddy. What’re five things you can see?”

After you got through the 5-4-3-2-1 technique, you still were in the midst of an intense panic attack and it worried Techno to no end. Usually you would be calmed down by now. Luckily, they arrived at the vet and quickly found a parking space.

You could hear running coming towards you and looked up to see the brothers running towards you. Techno kneeled next to you and attempted to give you a smile, “we’re here. Is it okay for me to touch you?” At your nod, he grabbed your hand and put it on his chest. “Breathe with me, okay? Do you think you can do that for me?” You didn’t respond to him. Your hazy eyes darted to his face when he gently called your name and asked you again. You nodded making him smile at you, “good, we’re gonna do the 4-7-8 breathing technique,” he told you softly, “do you remember that? You breathe in through your nose for four seconds, hold it for seven, and exhale slowly through your mouth for eight. I’ll do it with you,” he took in a deep breath through his nose and you tried to follow suit but failed. Your breathing was just too erratic.

“Tech, I-I can’t. I…”

“Hey you can do this, I know you can. Let’s try again, it takes time to even out breathing.” He said something to his brothers you couldn’t hear and they ran off. “Deep breath in,” he breathed in and you tried to follow him, “hold,” you held in the breath for about two seconds, “and out,” the breath ripped itself from your lungs. “You’re doing so good, I’m proud of you (y/n).”

The breathing continued for a bit with you getting nowhere before you heard the boys return. They had a couple of ice cold water bottles in their hands. Techno let go of your hand and grabbed one of them. He turned to you with an encouraging smile, “okay, we’re gonna try something new. I’m gonna have you touch this, is that alright?”

You reached out with a shaky hand to touch the plastic and jolted slightly at the temperature, a gasp ripping itself from your lungs and your eyes focusing slightly better than before. “I’m gonna run this up and down your arms, focus on the feeling of the temperature and the feeling.” As he ran the bottle down your arms, you could feel your heart rate drop at the temperature and your heated skin cooling down. Your breathing eventually evens itself out leaving you panting and shakily reaching up to wipe at your tears.

“Are you good now?” You nodded and leaned against the brick wall tiredly. An open water bottle was put into your hands. You drank it and relished in the feeling of the ice cold drink slithering down your throat. It even heightened your senses.

Wilbur sat on your other side and slung an arm over your shoulders, giving you a side hug. Tommy sat across from you while Techno sat on your other side holding your hand, lazily rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Do you wanna talk about what caused this?” You nodded and told the three everything that happened today and why you were at an emergency vet.

After you finished telling them, Wilbur turned to give you a full hug. Your face was against his chest, faintly you noted that he smelled like grass with hints of earth. “He’s gonna be alright. He’s a fighter, do you remember when he ate that bee?” You nodded, remembering that even if he was swollen, his tail was still wagging and he was as happy as he could be. He recovered quickly from that, never once losing his excited and loving personality. You thought about how even in the car he was licking away your mother’s tears and nuzzling into your hand even though he was exhausted.

“That dog has lived through so much health shit,” Tommy chimed in, “a seizure isn’t gonna take him out anytime soon.”

They stayed there for a while with you giving you reassurances and reminiscing on stories of him until you felt better

Eventually you had to go back to the car to wait with your mother, so they left to go to their house

Your dog was returned to you and your mom with the instruction to give him some medicine and come back for further examination

They didn’t find the cause for the seizure, which bothered you but relieved you that he was alright

When you got home, it was late at night and you honestly felt so drained

The next day, your dog was still slightly tired but he was slowly returning to his playful nature as the day progressed

When you were laying in the grass in the backyard with him reading a book, you saw Techno poke his head over the fence and smile at you. “Hey, how’s (dog name)?”

You ran your fingers through his fur as he slept peacefully, “he’s doing better. The vet still doesn’t know what’s going on with him, but he’s still himself.”

“We’re having some cookies and lemonade over here, do you wanna come over? (Dog name) can come too.”

“You’re more than welcome, (y/n)!” You could hear Philza’s voice chime out from their backyard. You got up and (dog name) followed you into their backyard slowly. They were sitting at the picnic table that was there since you and Techno were kids. The paint had long since chipped and faded with each year that passed. Tommy loudly cheered while Wilbur and Philza gave you gentle smiles as you walked next to Technoblade.

You sat next to Techno and a glass of lemonade was placed in front of you. (Dog name) laid at your feet and resumed his nap. You grabbed a cookie and took a bite, humming at the taste of your favorite flavor dancing across your tongue.

Being with the family was something that always made your worries fade away into nothingness and get replaced by lighthearted and refreshing happiness. You spent most of the day laughing with the family and petting your sleeping dog. Everything was going to be okay with them.

#sbi x reader #sleepy bois x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #philza x reader #technoblade x reader #wilbur soot x reader #tommyinnit x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp x reader #requests #hellion's requests #tw: swearing #tw: panic attack #tw: animal injury #tw: anxiety #tw: seizure

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blzzrdstryr · 4 years ago

Text

Reveries of changes

Yandere!Childe x Fatui!gn!reader

[Previous chapter] [Next chapter]

CW: Dissociation, mentions of rape, violence, unhealthy relationship, abuse of power.

Sometimes you find yourself asking what ifs. What if the Event never happened and you never received the vision? What if Ajax never developed his obsession with you? What if you treated him a little bit warmer? Would he be more tolerable? There are thousands of possible scenarios buzzing in your head, sometimes diverging just by words left unsaid or an outstretched hand being shaked. You know it’s a futile thing, thinking about the future and the present that you will never have, but you can’t stop, thoughts spiraling further and further.

This morning starts with the similar what if. What if I agreed to start again? The brief conversation from yesterday is still on your mind - you dread it’s another of the turning points in your relationship, just like the rejected handshake or the hospitalized recruit were. A moment after which there’ll be changes, changes that you won’t have time to prepare for. Speaking from the experience alone, Childe, like the rotten bastard he is, will act even worse from now on. It all started from teen Ajax following you and offering his friendship at every turn and somehow ended in him personally asking Tsaritsa to assign you to him, reducing you from a highly respectable Fatui agent skilled both in stealth and subterfuge to a glorified escort and a secretary.

One day he’ll just get tired from all of this and will forcefully bend me over in some dark murky corner, you darkly conclude, the remnants of the sleep leaving your body entirely at the grim thought. Or maybe he will break his promise not to cheat and will order me to do it.

Unwilling to think about the Ninth Wave of your unwanted relationships, you quickly stand up from the bed and start preparing for the day. Dressing and freshening up from the sleep you still mentally return to the darker place, cautious of what Tartaglia will pull out this time. Finally, you exit the door fully ready and lock the room, hiding the key under the clothes after, and make way to the fourth floor of the bank.

Here lies Childe’s working space and personal quarters , and if the former can be easily seen and entered just by walking up the stairs, the latter is hidden from view by the wall and massive door. There is a wide work desk and two armchairs placed too close for your comfort. You peek into the interior window, only to find it veiled by a thick curtain from the other side, so you decide to broaden the space between the chairs.

Satisfied with distance now, you sit at your place, taking a sheet out of the pile of documents, mostly consisting of reports of credits approved and money returned, unusually mundane yet highly classified information. Aside from accompanying Childe when he needs to beat and threaten the debts out of deadbeats, you also have to track the transactions the bank makes, a routine job consuming most of your daytime.

At the sixth or seventh fiscal account, you hear door opening and mentally brace for Ajax’s presence. Harbinger doesn’t smile, looking serious instead. You hope it has nothing to do with you, as it’s too early in the day for you to already deal with his usual mess.

“[First]”, you look up, staring at the bizarrely humorless Ajax looming over your sitting form. He clears his throat, as if he feels awkward right now, “Are you sure you won’t have one of your episodes?”

Your mind blanks for a second and then there’s a mix of shame and anger flooding your being and making you see red. Over the last months you spent working with him, he was the sole trigger of your affliction and now there are considerable gaps in your memory, in which you have absolutely no clue what happened to you. You had an inkling that Childe is aware that you are not always completely here, but a slap in the face with such casual mention is enough to render you wordless for a good minute.

“I... It happens only under certain circumstances”, you find your voice wavering and his face darkens, as he quickly catches unsaid ‘because of you’. Fortunately, he decides not to press it.

“There’s a problem at hands, one that needs your skills". These words make you do a double take - Ajax doesn't look like he's lying, speech lacking usual grandiose and bravado, yet you still can't believe he lets you return to your former work. You make a quick guess.

“Qixing?”

“Qixing” he nods,"their spies must have learned something about the sigils. It's a minor issue now, but if Tianquan or Yuheng will learn about it…"

"A diplomatic disaster and a permanent loss of Geo Archon's gnosis" you continue for him, “Fatui would be banned or seriously limited in Liyue and most of trade routes will be cut off, Ningguang can easily press sanctions against most of Snezhnayan import”. You frown at the thought, no matter what Fatui would do in such situations there's too much to lose and almost nothing to gain, even if you start destroying the investigation and replication of sigils right now, it will be a waste of possible weapons against Rex Lapis.

Then, there's one painless exit from the complicated mess: destruction of all meager material evidence and clues they somehow scraped together. Despite finally having a glimpse of a freedom, you don’t feel any excitement, but doubt instead - just a year ago, such operation would be another routine task for you, but now, having wasted months because of Childe's possessiveness, you can't help but feel incompetent.

You contemplate, glancing at him: on one hand, Tartaglia can easily send any other agents, but on the other hand, none of said agents possess a vision, a vision that you specifically molded to be a perfect tool for stealth and assassinations. He tilts his head, a hand impatiently drumming against the desk, waiting for your answer - you can infer his inner monologue - Tartaglia, just like you, is torn between his loyalty to Tsaritsa and his own feelings on the matter and this is what finally cements your decision.

You can almost see how much he itches to forbid you from taking the mission, but stops himself out of his sense of duty to Snezhnaya, and this knowledge fills you with darker type of satisfaction to the very brim: You lean back, pretending to still ponder over his words, enjoying the view of apprehensive Childe for once.

“I think, I can’t...” you start, your voice deliberately small and hesitant, watching how Ajax smiles again, convinced that you no longer have any confidence in your abilities, “let Snezhnaya be compromised in any way”.

He doesn’t let any of the anger and frustration show on his face, yet the drumming ceases, leaving you two in the silence, save for the sounds of the street coming out of the window.

You know you’re poking at the sleeping tiger, letting a childish impulses to guide your words, but the opportunity to upset Harbinger are much harder to come by these days: he took away your job, your delusion and your freedom, the least he can do to compensate is suffer in return.

“Alright”, he finally says and fails to hold back disappointed sigh “agent [Last]. Your delusion is in Ekaterina’s possession, just as the rest of the equipment. You will start tonight, information is in the upper left drawer. You have no right to fail, if you do I will write a complaint to Tsaritsa against you and personally oversee that you will be discharged”.

It’s a gambling game then, and terribly unfair at that - even if you win it won’t set you free or relocate under someone easier to handle and Tartaglia loses virtually nothing by allowing you to roam out of his sight for one night only, and by failing you will literally had your life into Childe’s eager hands.

You won’t let the bastard triumph.

***

After getting your gear and delusion back, you spend the rest of the day reading the data and mentally preparing for what is about to come. The qixing base you're to infiltrate is located awfully near the current place of sigil research, as if Ningguang or whoever planted it here already suspected Fatui from the start. The base itself is disguised as an ancient Liyuen ruin with a couple of deactivated ruin hunters placed nearby to scare off the adventurers who no doubt will try to explore it.

You are almost panting when you finally reach it - turns out that despite being easily visible from afar, the base is surrounded by the tall and steep cliffs from all sides, with the only passage bound to be guarded. Invoking to the power of your vision, you effortlessly become invisible to the eye, enter the building and almost rush back the same second - there’s a millelith passing nearby in whom you almost bumped in.

Heart racing you enter the building again, walking on half bent legs to minimize the sounds, and avoid milleliths on your way. They feel a sudden rush of frosty air, but seeing no one nearby, just write it off as a sudden midnight chill. You continue to make your way, peeking into each room, forcing yourself to remain in this form longer and longer, body aching and freezing from the overuse. Finally you see it - a stack of documents placed on the bamboo table near the oil lamp in a conveniently empty room.

Your hand is already extended to push the lamp and fake an accidental fire, when you decide to investigate the papers - it’s better to learn what qixing already knows. Your eyes quickly peruse a liyuen script, characters upon other characters - a report about suspicious activities, a detailed intelligence of Northland’s spendings and thankfully, not a word of sigils, except the note stating that Fatuis are buying a considerable amount of paper and ink.

Having memorized each of the documents, you throw the lamp now, a flame quickly spreading to the documents and soon consuming a whole table. Someone in the corridor screams about fire, four milleliths rushing in the room and you use this distraction to sneak out. Having escaped the borders of the faux ruin you quickly run, still maintaining invisibility, and only when you reach the cliffs again do you allow yourself to rest.

After climbing over the rocks, the rest of the trail is spent between jogging and walking, frost from the vision still residing inside. Bitter chill slows down your movements and you can’t help, but shiver from time to time, arms and legs aching and burning from it. You eye the pyro delusion and consider using it - unlike a cryo vision that you sculpted for secrecy and agility, the delusion is more battle-focused, able to produce quick bursts of fire in the rare occasions you get into a brawl.

Suddenly, a ball of flames explodes near you - a whopperflower bursts out of the ground, sensing you in proximity. You dodge another fireball, instinctively flinching at the sudden flash of light and send an ice blade it's way. It slightly grazes the creature's skin, yet a mimetic plant rushes back under the ground as you summon another icicle and swiftly stab it in the "head" the second it emerges again.

The plant dies in convulsion, it’s reddish walls contracting around the blade, a fast stream of boiling hot energy nectar shooting from the wound the moment you pull away the weapon. You curse, as some of the liquid hits you on the leg, burning a part of your pants and scorching the flesh underneath. Hissing and gritting teeth, you use your vision again, now to soothe a throbbing pain.

Well, at least I am not freezing anymore.

You return at the first rays of dawn, dull pain still lingering in the lower body, pulsating and echoing every step. Slightly drowsy Nadia at the entrance nods at you, her gaze at your wound obvious even with a mask on, and you nod back, a wordless exchange providing a slight reprieve, before you have to deal with Childe again.

“Hard day?”, she asks right before you enter, a pale shadow of concern in her voice. You frown, confused by the sudden disquiet.

“Something happened?”

“Uhm”, a small pause, “the boss. He was restless tonight, very restless”.

Ah, shit.

“Well, that is unpleasant” you deadpan, any remaining desire to go inside the bank vanishing the same second: “Thank you anyways” and then you step in.

Harbinger waits right there in an absolutely empty lobby - it seems that Ekaterina’s shift hasn't started yet. He’s leaning on the wall, head turning to you as you enter and immediately noticing the state of your leg. His expression grows darker, when you thought he would lighten up at your perceived failure instead.

"Who did this to you?" he asks, hints of steel appearing in his voice. You lift your eyebrows - no teasing, starters or bravado. Maybe he's so impatient to hear about your failure that he forgot to keep up the act?

You swat away his question, deciding to report on your mission instead - documents were destroyed by a set up accident, none of the qixing and milleliths saw you; he doesn’t seem to listen though, eyes still glued to the burn and then he repeats his question, voice taking the dangerous tone.

“No one, no one did it. It was an accident on the way back”, he isn’t convinced judging by the way he grabs your arm, his monstrous strength evident in the steel trap grip. “Damn” you cuss, trying to free your hand - if Tartaglia learns that you let the whopperflower of all things injure you, he won’t let you live it down and will weaponise it, to point out your so-called incompetence over and over again.

“Let me go” you tug harder, a vision coming back to life from the distress. You pull away your wrist from him again and again and then you hear it first and feel it second - a small cracking sound and a sharp pain, shooting up your arm - you broke a bone. It’s too sudden for you to realize what happened or even properly sense the shock of ache.

He lets go of you in the same second, eyes looking blankly at the injured hand. His lips thin and he exhales, in a long and strangely controlled manner - seeing Childe act and look so emotionless is sure bizarre. He hauls you up bridal carry style, ripping out a low hiss of pain as his clothes rub against the burn, and directs himself to the stairs. You're too busy gritting your teeth and trying not to cry in front of Childe to notice him climbing past the third floor and only when he opens the door to his room with a kick do you finally snap back to reality.

Despite working for him for months now, you enter his quarters for the first time. It's a spacious place, with a wide bed and writing desk located near the window. There are different weapons decorating the walls - swords, claymores, spears - all with the traces of use, and a small pile of trinkets and children's toys on the desk, placed right near the started letter, some of them already half wrapped - must be a gift for someone, then.

He sets you down on the bed and turns to the wall, taking a dagger from its place and some small container. A part of you gets scared all of the sudden - you remember your morning thoughts and all those instances when his eyes focused on your body for far too long to be innocent or comfortable. Is this it? Did he get so fed up with you that he decided to drop any pretense and abandon the cat-and-mouse game you two seemed to have?

Ignoring the pain in both limbs you jolt for the exit - there’s no meaning in fighting him, yet you can still flee, lock in your room and then plan what to do. “Stop it” he says, a warning clear in his voice, and to your frustration it’s enough to glue you in place. You look at him, heart booming in your chest, barely suppressing a flinch at every step he’s taking. He leads you back to the bed, as you feel the world warping around you again and the worst part is that you can’t stop it - It’s unfair, I can’t leave, not yet, I will hate myself for the rest of my life if it happens.

He kneels down, blade slicing through the pants as you forget how to breath. His figure deforms, a dark blue sea leaking out of the dead fish eyes and you see great leviathans lurking underneath the surface. Childe is the ocean, in a sense that he contains horrors beyond the human imagination. He is the great sleeping kraken that will swallow the world and you are his first victim.

His hand takes something out of the container and you expect it to burn and to hurt you, but instead there’s a muffled soothing feeling that comes, an unintentional “ah” coming out of your mouth. He doesn’t force himself and patches you up on the contrary.

You come back to yourself little by little, when he almost finishes with ministrations, leg and wrist looking like two casts. It feels bizarre to come back to your body halfway, to see Ajax kneeling in front of you, head hung low and it’s even weirder to hear his voice, hurt and utterly defeated: “So that’s what you think of me”.

He helps you come back to your room, as you still feel dazed. You pinch yourself a couple of times, still unable to believe that any of these happenings are real, they are.

A turning point, you conclude, there’s no way anything will stay the same after this.

You both dread and anticipate the changes.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere genshin impact x reader #Reader is unreliable narrator #It's not super obvious here #But it will be evident later #yandere #childe #tartaglia #yandere x reader #my writing

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scripttorture · 4 years ago

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You mention in posts how torture doesn’t make people obedient and usually makes them spiteful (which obviously makes sense), but isn’t it realistic for someone to comply out of fear rather than loyalty? Whether that was giving up information or obeying orders or something else entirely. I imagine it depends on the person, and they would probably still be willing to turn on their torturers if given the chance, but would it be possible for them to obey orders in hopes of avoiding more pain?

This is a much more nuanced and complicated topic then we’re taught to assume.

When it comes to giving up information it’s pretty clear cut. No, torture can’t lead to accurate information for a lot of interconnected reasons. I have about six separate masterposts covering the reasons for this.

One of those is the antagonism torture produces. Another is the memory problems torture causes. Another is the effect that the use of torture has on organisations and the chain of command. Another is the effect torture has on torturers.

Torture drastically increases the chances of memory loss and it also increases the chances of inaccurate memories. So not only is a torture victim less likely to talk, they’re more likely to be wrong if they do talk.

But the effects on victims aren’t the main reason torture doesn’t work as a way of getting information. You’re assuming that torturers have access to people who have information.

The reality is that torture destroys an organisation’s ability to gather accurate information. Most information comes from volunteers: when torture comes into play less people volunteer information. This means that an organisation which tortures is more likely to be questioning someone who knows nothing. That person is then abused until they start making things up.

Because there’s less access to volunteered information and because humans are very bad at telling when someone is lying, a lot of these made up stories are believed. And this then effects who else the organisation arrests and tortures. This creates a sort of spiral, with lies leading to more lies.

Additionally the torturers themselves make things worse. There’s less quality research on them, but the research and anecdotal accounts create a pretty clear picture of their behaviour. They undermine the chain of command, they lose the skills the originally had as they turn to torture, they’re aggressive, incredibly competitive and they have a… fracturing effect on their organisation.

Basically they’re incredibly difficult to work with and totally convinced of their own importance. And this effects their colleagues. It totally divides organisations. The worst case I’ve read about involved members of the same organisation killing each other over access to prisoners.

That’s a short run through of the main factors. Torture, in the legally defined sense, means all of these factors are in play. Plus a few more I’ve omitted to keep this shorter.

With all of that together you just can’t get accurate information.

If you want longer posts I’ve made on the subject I suggest looking for the ‘torture doesn’t work’ tag and the ‘torture as interrogation’ tag. You can also read the masterposts. If you want a much more in depth look at why torture consistently fails as a way of getting information I recommend O’Mara’s Why Torture Doesn’t Work and Rejali’s Torture and Democracy.

O’Mara is a neuroscientist and goes through the effects torture has on the brain in a way that’s accessible, explaining the damage torture causes and how that destroys the evidence torturers claim to be seeking. Rejali’s book is a breeze block but it’s really a must, it is the textbook on torture in a broad sense. He ties together information from across the globe creating a broader picture of what torture does, not just to victims but to societies.

The question of compliance under threat and pain… is more complicated.

People can be forced to do some things. That much is obvious from a brief glance at human history and things like slavery. But it’s important to listen to what people in these scenarios say.

And my opinion, based on what I’ve read, is that what these people say doesn’t support the idea that humans will easily obey instructions when they’re hurt or threatened. I think instead these people are making hard headed, rational choices in absolutely awful situations. I think when we don’t have these experiences of torture or slavery, it’s easy to look at the surface of the situation and assume that pain alone assures obedience. I think that happens because it’s hard for use to understand the rationale when we don’t have that lived experience.

Let me give some examples. So it probably goes without saying that slavery goes hand in hand with physical abuse. One of the major researchers on slavery, whose data I quote pretty regularly, assumes throughout his writings that pain is the deciding factor which ‘makes’ people obey.

But he also describes a couple of very obvious consistent patterns in the ways slavers behave. Slavers almost universally do the following things as well as using physical abuse:

Separate enslaved people from their community

Bar enslaved people from other forms of support

Make enslaved people financially/materially reliant on the slavers

Tell enslaved people that going to the police/authorities will lead to the enslaved person being arrested

Try to convince enslaved people that they will be better off if they comply, usually by framing it as a debt to be worked off with promises of riches after a period of time

Now here’s the thing: we know from studies on cults and studies on ICURE techniques that a lot of these strategies will result in obedience when there is no violence or physical abuse.

Given that I don’t think we can assume that violence is the deciding factor. In fact I think the evidence we have from forced confessions under torture suggests the violence may lead to less obedience and a lower ‘success’ rate then a set up that used emotional abuse or other exploitative techniques without violence.

We have two sources of historical data that are used for statistical studies on forced confessions. One is from historical France. We think that this data set only involved torture to force a confession; no other method of coercion just violence. The rate of forced confessions varied a little in different areas but over all it’s about 10%. The second data set is from the ‘London Cage’ a British prison during the second world war. Here we know that torture was combined with blackmail, bribery and other kinds of coercion. The rate of forced confessions there was about 30%.

And while this is just two studies, while the data is lacking… That is one hell of a jump.

Let’s circle back to ICURE. ICURE stands for Isolation, Control information, create Uncertainty, Repetition and Emotive responses. It’s a set of techniques which can, sometimes, change someone’s beliefs when it’s applied consistently over a long time.

Notice the effort slavers put in to isolating their victims. Notice that the behaviour pattern I’m describing means the slavers are creating uncertainty over seeking help and repeating those messages as well as messages that the victims will be better off if they just go along with it.

Slavers will generally also try to control the information their victims have access to, taking phones and blocking access to news sources and other resources. Now a lot of slavers will transport their victims to other states or countries putting a language barrier in place. They sometimes also use emotive responses in attempts to persuade victims to comply.

I’ve read multiple accounts where survivors of modern slavery described slavers telling them that the money they were making was being sent to the victim’s family and without it the family would not survive. (Sometimes the slavers do send small amounts to the families of their victims, sometimes they pocket everything.) I’ve also read accounts where gangs of slavers used religion and oaths taken in a religious setting to persuade their victims they’d be punished by God for not complying.

Even with all of this, all these techniques we know can sometimes ‘work’- lots of people refuse. Lots of people disobey. Lots of people escape. Lots of people actively sabotage the operations the slavers put together.

And if you look at that same history of slavery, that shows us people can sometimes be forced to work, you’ll see that this has always been true.

We have records of historic enslaved people attacking slavers, forming organised militias, forming parallel societies, sacking towns, taking over an entire Caribbean island and beating off four European armies in the process. We also have records of smaller acts. Sabotage, worship of banned deities, speaking banned languages, destruction of property, aiding in the escape of others.

What I’m saying is: this isn’t black and white. The evidence, modern and historical does not paint a clear picture of violence leading to obedience.

Instead I believe that it shows humans are resilient, stubborn, adaptable creatures. People can survive all kinds of horrible situations. It is more accurate, more human, to assume that people make rational choices.

Sometimes those choices involve short term compliance while looking for a better option or a way out. But we tend to hear less stories about the people who completely refuse to comply. We tend to treat that as an impossible fiction when it is a recorded historical and modern reality.

Bringing this back to writing as a general rule the more complicated the act the less likely you can force someone to do it. Because the more complicated it is the more opportunities they’ll have to sabotage it or use it against their abuser.

I recommend reading up on the history of Haiti pet. Then Brazil via Palmares.

I’ll end this by bringing it back to those statistics on forced confessions in historical France. Imagine the conditions with me for a moment. Unsanitary, cramped cells. Dehydration, starvation and disease. Plus the kinds of scarring torture that are conjured up in the minds of most Western people when the word ‘torture’ comes up; thumb screws, leg irons that tighten until the bone snaps, whips.

Picture it. Try to imagine the pain those people went through.

And remember that 90% of them did not comply long enough to sign their name.

Available on Wordpress.

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jungshookz · 4 years ago

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cee cee i have an idea!!! what about Cool and Cultured bookshop owner! tae and dorky y/n walking past the store everyday and one day goes in and strikes a conversation about a fancy book like catcher in the rye and talks about the symbolism of rye in the book and tae's like :0 das wildly inaccurate but you're kinda cute so here's my number so we can talk more about rye and y/ns like :0

➺ pairing; kim taehyung x reader

➺ genre; wowowow handsome & well-read bookkeeper!taehyung, fluff!!!! the kind of fluff that makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a warm blanket sipping on a mug of hot chocolate on a nice autumn’s day when the leaves are just starting to turn red and orange, y/n’s kind of a dummy but in a very loveable kind of way, featuring namjoon the (sort of) wingman

➺ wordcount; 6.2k

➺ summary; the catcher in the rye? oh, sure - of course you know that book! it’s about catching loaves of bread, right?

➺ what to expect; “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”

➺ note; our (first??) drabble of the month as voted by you guys! i finished writing this the day after it was decided that bookkeeper!tae was the winner because that’s how excited i was about him >:-) enjoy!

»»————-　➴　————-««

“and… open your eyes!” you exclaim, throwing your arms up into the air excitedly as namjoon takes his hands away from his eyes

he blinks owlishly before looking up and-

“you brought me to a bookstore!” he gasps, a smile immediately spreading over his features as he claps his hands together, “oh, this is great! usually, you bring me to those awful rock-climbing places, or that horribly violent paintball gun place, and even when you brought me to the movie theatre the tickets were for that gory r-rated horror movie-”

“okay, let’s not get carried away-” you hold a finger out to shut namjoon up before he can list out moRe reasons as to why you seem more like you hate him instead of love him, “the point is: this time, i brought you to a bookstore!” you smile proudly before crossing your arms

not to toot your own horn or anything but you did a pretty good job with this surprise

you even did tons of research to find the best bookstores in the city!!

which was difficult because namjoon’s been to like.,,. EVERY bookstore in the city

but not this one!

to be fair, it was a long forty-five minute car ride to get here so you understand why he’s never come out here himself

“…this isn’t like… a weird bookstore or anything, right?” namjoon narrows his eyes in suspicion before taking a step back and looking up at the name of the store again

the secret garden

oh!!!!

like the book!!!!

how clever :D

“what do you mean?” you frown, placing your hands on your hips before glancing back up at the name as well

the secret garden

kind of a lame name for a bookstore

“like a…” namjoon trails off before clearing his throat, “you know, like a bookstore that’s actually a sex dungeon or something like that-”

“ew!” you immediately make a face before shaking your head quickly, “wha- why would you even say that?!”

“well, i don’t know!” namjoon holds his hands up in defence, “i’ve never been to this bookstore before-!”

“this is a regular ol’ bookstore, joon. i promise!” you clap your hands on his shoulders before giving him a squeeze, “just the way you like it! old, dusty, and full of nothing but boring books.”

namjoon beams

that’s exactly what he likes to hear

see, today is your seven year friendaversary with namjoon

you guys have known each other since middle school and noW the two of you are in your final year of university which is crazy

and so, for the past seven years, you’ve gone out on this day to celebrate your beautiful friendship because honestly you’ll take whatever excuse to go to a restaurant to try to get free dessert (“yeah, we’re celebrating our anniversary! so, i’ll take three orders of your chocolate lava cake-”)

you guys usually take turns where one year one of you will plan an entire day of fun activities for the other, and then the next year, the other person will do it because that seems like a relatively fair system

last year, namjoon took you to this cute pottery place and you ended up making these adorable matching friendship mugs

they’re both a little lopsided but that’s just part of their charm!!

namjoon painted his a beige-brown and you painted yours a BRIGHT purple and then you traded mugs (so that when he comes over to your apartment, he has his mug, and when you go over to his apartment, you have your mug!)

he also insisted that you guys carve your guys’ initials on the bottom of yours and draw a heart around it which you thought was a little much but you are… very fond of namjoon so you’d jump off a cliff if he asked you to

admittedly, most of the things that you’ve planned during your years have been catered to your own personal desires so you’ve been a little unfair but namjoon’s always been too much of a sweetheart to say anything about it

and for the most part, he’s a pretty good sport even though it’s blatantly obvious that he’d rather chop a toe off than spend the afternoon doing your chosen activity

the last time it was your turn two years ago, you took him to a go-cart track and spent the entire two hours practically driving circles around him because he was driving like ten kilometres an hour

the only reason why he wasn’t driving like one is supposed to drive on a go-cart track (i.e. like a maniac) is because he was worried that if he went too fast he’d get a ticket or something

and kim namjoon does not get speeding tickets

not on the real road and most certainly not on a man-made road either!

for the record, he definitely didn’t appreciate you calling him a slowpoke and telling him to eat my dust, bitch! and he still brings it up from time to time whenever he wants to guilt you into doing something with him (“i’m not switching muffins with you. it’s not my fault you don’t like yours!” “…hey, remember that time you called me a slowpoke and told me to-” “take the muffin.”)

anyways

he’s glad that this is just a normal bookstore and that he doesn’t have to worry about whether or not one of your activities is going to end in him losing a limb for the first time

what a wonderful way to end the day!!

actually, you guys still have to grab dinner after this where you’ll try to squeeze as many free desserts out of the restaurant as possible as per usual so this is a wonderful way to almost end the day

the little bell hanging above the door chimes as the two of you step in and almost immediately you’re greeted with the warm smell of what you’re pretty sure is hot chocolate??

“i love this place already.” namjoon breathes out, his jaw dropping in awe, “i wanna live here!”

“okay, keep it in your pants-” the door starts to shut and you nudge namjoon forward to keep from getting your butt nipped by the door

you don’t even get a chance to say anything else before namjoon suddenly darts off

so much for keeping it in his pants

you pause when you get a good look at the place

huh

for some reason you feel like a lot of instagram pictures have been taken here

it’s obviously an antique place but it’s like one of those trendy antique places

a brass chandelier hangs from the ceiling, the (fake) candles casting a golden glow over the entire store

there’s a spiral staircase that curls up to the second floor

the walls are covered with floor to ceiling shelves stacked with, duh, books, but even for what you thought would just be a dusty old bookstore… it’s pretty nice in here!

there’s even an archway in the centre of the place that leads to what looks like a pretty cozy reading space for customers which is a nice touch

and there are people sipping on mugs of hot chocolate too!!!

you can’t help but wonder if you need to be reading a book in order to get a mug of cocoa

you like the hot chocolate part but you’re not as excited about the reading part

“y/n, come on!” you look over to see namjoon - who already has three books cradled in his arms - waving you over enthusiastically, “check it out! it’s a vintage boxed set of the chronicle of narnia series! and they’re leatherbound-“ he practically moans before nudging you towards it, “help me take it out?”

“narnia?” you snort, tilting your head so you can look at the titles pressed into the spine of the book, “isn’t narnia, like… for kids?”

the last time you read the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe was when you had to read it for a book report in like the fourth grade

you glance over your shoulder to look at namjoon who now has an unimpressed frown on his face

“what??”

“…you insult me.” he sniffles, “just help!”

you roll your eyes playfully before turning back to pull the thick set out of the shelf and-

“hello!”

“-!”

the sudden sound of a stranger’s voice nearly makes you drop the set but you manage to prop the edge of the box back up onto the shelf before it falls and breaks all the bones in your foot

you turn to look at whoever-

oh my

hello indeed

“welcome to the secret garden.” he smiles kindly, tilting his head at you, “did you need any help with that, miss?”

oh good god

his voice makes you feel like you’re wading through a river of warm caramel

and you’d happily let yourself drown in that river

two seconds go by where you don’t respond at all and instead you continue staring at mr. caramel with very obvious hubba-hubba eyes

“i think we’re good, thank you!” namjoon clears his throat, elbowing your back gently before offering a smile of his own

“oh, alright! well, my name’s taehyung,” taehyung reaches up to adjust his glasses, “please let me know if you need assistance of any kind - i’ll just be up at the front. if you’re just here to relax and read, i’d be happy to whip up two mugs of hot chocolate for the two of you!”

“awesome! thank you.” namjoon nods all while you continue smiling at taehyung dazedly

he waits until taehyung disappears before turning back and looking at you

“…what’s wrong with you?”

“i’m good, thank you…” you whisper your very delayed response and namjoon moves his head so that he’s blocking your view when you lean back a little to try to look at taehyung sitting behind the front counter, “holy moly. i’d let him explore my secret garden-”

“oh, now look who can’t keep it in their pants-“

“hey, you should look at this as a good thing!” you grunt as you adjust the hefty box in your arms, “now i’ll willingly drive you back here… whenever you want.”

namjoon’s eyes immediately light up

»»————-　➴　————-««

you and namjoon end up returning to the bookstore about two weeks later

last time, namjoon wanted to stay longer (and so did you, honestly) buT you were pretty close to losing your dinner reservations and you weren’t about to give up your free chocolate lava cake just to stare at the cute bookkeeper from afar like a creep

so you had to leave!

namjoon ended up leaving with the boxed set and a couple other books so suffice to say, he was pretty happy

and when you suggested visiting the bookstore again this week… well, namjoon had to jump on that opportunity, didn’t he??

you?? offering to take him to a bookstore?? again??

you’re obviously only using him as an excuse to go into the bookstore so you can spend hours watching taehyung like a weirdo but he’ll take it

namjoon hums happily as he takes a sip of his hot chocolate before licking a little bit of whipped cream off his top lip

he wonders if taehyung would be willing to share the recipe to it because this is honestly the best hot chocolate he’s ever had

namjoon looks up from his book when he hears you let out a sigh for the tenth time in the last two minutes

oh god

look at you!

“oh… and he’s good with kids, too?” you sigh blissfully as you prop your elbow up on the arm of the sofa chair before leaning your cheek against your fist

you watch fondly as taehyung gets down on one knee, holding two fists out for a little girl

she taps his right hand shyly before quickly wrapping her arms back around her mom’s leg, peeking at him from behind it shyly

taehyung flips his wrist around and uncurls his fingers to reveal a single caramel, his face lighting up briefly as she takes it from his open palm into her little hand

“i don’t know why you can’t just go up and talk to him-” namjoon snorts at how lovestruck you look before peering around the corner of the archway to look at taehyung too, “it��s not a big deal. he’s really nice!”

“i can’t just go up and talk to him. are you kidding me?” you frown, shaking your head, “what am i supposed to say??”

“tell him you need help finding a book!” namjoon states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the entire world (because it is) before slapping the book on his lap shut, “just out of curiosity - what book would you ask him to help you find?”

you lean back against the sofa chair before twisting your lips in thought

book?

what book…

what was the last book you read…?

ooh!

“esio trot!” you perk up, namjoon’s eyebrows knitting together in confusion because he has no idea what just came out of your mouth-

“esio- oh my god, esio trot as in the roald dahl children’s novel??” namjoon frowns, “no! you can’t go up to taehyung and ask him to help you find esio friggin’ trot-”

“okay, you don’t see me making fun of you for buying what you bought last week, mr. chronicles of narnia-”

“you did make fun of me!” namjoon gawks, “in fact, you’re still making fun of me for it-” he waves his hand to cease the conversation, “listen to me. from the very few times that i’ve spoken to taehyung, it’s clear that he’s… cultured, you know?”

“cultured… like yogurt.” you joke, slapping your own knee gently, “get it?? because yogurt is cultured? cultured yogurt??”

namjoon resists the urge to roll his eyes

see?

this is exactly what he’s talking about

“…yes, y/n. i get it. anyways, as i was saying- taehyung is just very…” namjoon kisses his teeth as he tries to think of how to phrase his words, “…well-read… intelligent… scholarly… refined…”

you tilt your head in curiosity as namjoon continues listing out a bunch of snooty sounding adjectives

wait a minute

“are you-” you scoff, straightening up in your seat, “are you calling me dumb??”

hey!!

you’re not dumb!!!

it’s not like books are super complicated to figure out or anything

all you have to do is read what’s inside of it and you certainly know how to read!!!

and sure, sometimes you still don’t know if receive is spelt receive or recieve or if business is spelt buisness or biusness, but that doesn’t mean that you’re dumb!!

“no, no, i’m not calling you dumb!” namjoon shakes his head quickly, “i’m just saying that if you had a choice, you would choose a movie over a book-”

“well, yeah - obviously i would choose a movie over a book.” you snort, “why would i waste eight hours reading tiny little words on stiff white pages when i could be watching a movie that compresses the entire story in a convenient one hour and a half??”

“i’m your friend, and i don’t want to watch you make a fool of yourself!” namjoon argues, “because if you do, then you’ll be too embarrassed to ever come back here again, which means that i’ll never be able to come back here again-”

“what’s stopping you from coming here by yourself?”

“because every time i tell you that i’m going to the bookstore, you’re going to ask me a bunch of taehyung related questions when i get back-”

okay

that’s a fair point

that sounds like something you would do for sure

“alright, fine!” you huff before crossing your arms, “what book do you suggest i go up there and ask him to help me find?”

namjoon twists his lips in thought

hm…

“catch her in the eye!” you chirp, folding your hands behind you book as you smile brightly at taehyung

namjoon feels his own face flush at how confidently you just said that and he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth to keep himself from screaMING

he told you to ask taehyung to help you find the catcher in the rye

NOT CATCH HER IN THE EYE

“the catcher in the rye?” taehyung nods, “sure! of course i can help you find the catcher in the rye.” he returns a smile as he steps out from behind the counter, “follow me, please!”

you shoot namjoon a big thumbs up and a faT grin as you pass by the entrance of the archway and he gives you a weak one in return before turning back and slumping against the couch

oh boy

…he’s never going to come back to this beautiful bookstore, is he?

“you were here about two weeks ago, weren’t you?” taehyung asks as he looks over his shoulder, the two of you trotting up the spiral staircase, “with your… boyfriend, right? you guys bought the boxed narnia set.”

“hm? oh!” you let out a little laugh, “yes, that was us, but joon- namjoon’s just my friend. um, that day was actually our seven-year friendaversary and he’s a real dork for books so i thought it’d be nice to bring him here-”

it’s in that moment that you suddenly hear namjoon’s voice in your head reminding you that you’re supposed to act like yoU like reading too

“i mean-” you clear your throat, “i, too, really like books, so i- you know, it was a mutually pleasant experience for the both of us t-to be here-” you chuckle nervously

hopefully you were able to save your own ass there

that was a close call!!

you trail behind taehyung as the two of you weave in and out of the bookshelves

you didn’t get a chance to come up to the second floor last week

but it’s surprisingly nice up here!!

there’s a lone sofa chair in the corner with a little coffee table sitting next to it

very nice for customers who prefer to read alone

“ah, well, that’s very thoughtful of you!” taehyung nods before suddenly pausing, “i’m so sorry-” he spins around and you nearly bump into his chest but you manage to stop yourself just in time, “i just realised i never got your name.”

“y/n. i’m- i’m y/n.” you stick your hand out quickly for him to shake

you feel a little zap! travel from your fingertips to the rest of your body as soon as taehyung takes your hand in his

he gives you a gentle shake before squeezing your hand lightly and then letting go, “well, it’s very nice to meet you, y/n. now, give me a second to find the catcher in the rye for you…”

taehyung turns to thumb through the books on the shelf and you feel your heart flutter in your chest as how pretty he looks from the side

wowie

you can’t help but take your bottom lip in between your teeth as you continue to admire taehyung’s features from the soft swoosh of his hair to the rosy pink of his lips

how can one man be so pretty?

“ah- here we are!” taehyung pulls a book out of the shelf and you quickly snap yourself out of your daze, “the catcher in the rye… a novel by j.d. salinger.” he hands it to you and you take it before blinking down at the cover

…the catcher in the rye?

what happened to catch her in the eye???

“it’s a great book.” taehyung hums, “have you read it before?”

“oh, i… i have!” you scoff, making a face, “duh, of course i have. i mean, it’s… you know, it’s such a… um, a powerful novel…” you clear your throat before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “i mean, the last time i read it was actually in… high school… so… you know, i’ve forgotten most of the details but i figured it’d be nice to get a refresher, you know?”

(you never read this in high school.)

((you just made namjoon summarise the entire book to you in the form of a poorly drawn stickman comic and even then you still didn’t fully understand the story.))

“absolutely! there’s nothing wrong with revisiting old friend from the past,” taehyung chuckles lightly, “in fact, i was reading animal farm the other day- what kind of literature do you typically read?”

you press your lips together tightly

oh god

namjoon didn’t prepare you for additional questions

literature??

quick!

what kind of literature do you typically read??

…

tell him you read all kinds of literature!

that sounds like a legitimate answer, right?

“i... read… all-”

you’re cut off by the sound of a bell chiming from below and you let out a breath of relief when taehyung scurries past you to peer over the balcony

“i’ll be right there!” he holds a finger up at the customer waiting by the front counter before spinning around to face you again, “was there anything else you needed, y/n?”

“wha- i-” you stammer, unable to come up with a non-creepy reason to keep him up here with you, “no! no, this was-” you give the front cover a hearty slap, “this was all i needed-”

“perfect!” taehyung claps his hands together, “well, let me know. you know where i am!”

he disappears down the staircase before you even get a chance to thank him

the smell of his cologne lingers in the air as you make your way down the staircase and you can’t help but beat yourself up over how your interaction with taehyung went

it wasn’t a bad interaction or anything

in fact, you think you did a pretty good job at acting like a bookworm!!

it’s just that…

you don’t think it was a particularly memorable interaction for taehyung

that was just a typical customer interaction for him

you were supposed to charm him!!!

impress him!!

sweep him off his feet!!!

tickle his brain!!

“hey, buddy…” namjoon coos as you plop back down on the sofa chair, “how… did it go?”

he’s afraid to hear your answer because it certainly looks like it didn’t go super well

damnit

he knows this moment is about you but now he’s thinking about how he’ll probably never be able to taste this delicious hot chocolate ever again

“got the book.” you grumble, tossing it onto the coffee table before shaking your head, “i called it catch her in the eye, joon.”

“yeah, i… uh, i heard you.” namjoon nods understandingly, crossing one leg over the other before leaning back against the couch, “i don’t think he heard you say that, though! i mean, he knew what you were looking for right away.”

namjoon knows you well enough to see that you’re currently spiralling down a self-pity hole right now

oh boy

“hey, you know what’ll make you feel better?” he leans forward to give your knee a comforting squeeze

“what?”

“how about i buy this for you so you can read it and fully impress taehyung next time with your newfound knowledge-“ namjoon points to the book you’ve abandoned on the table, “and then we can go for chocolate lava cake!”

your eyes widen slightly

“free chocolate lava cake?”

“no, not free-“ namjoon snorts, getting up from the couch before reaching back to pick up his bag, “i mean, i’ll pay for it. my treat! so, yeah. i guess it’s kinda free for you.”

“that sounds nice!” your frown is almost instantaneously replaced by a grin, “if i get more free things from you just for being sad, i’m going to be sad more often-”

“what?? no! do not pretend to be sad just to get me to pay for things-”

taehyung glances over from the front counter when he hears a twinkly laugh and he can’t help but smile lightly at the sight of you giggling away in the sofa chair

your nose scrunches slightly as you let out a little snort and he presses his lips together to keep himself from beaming too wide

y/n, huh? cute.

»»————-　➴　————-««

(taehyung can’t stop thinking about you and your absurdly cute face.)

»»————-　➴　————-««

it’s another two weeks later that you come back to the secret garden - but this time, you come alone.

and to be honest, you… don’t know if this was a good idea or not

because joon was with you for the last two times and you were definitely using him as a security blanket so now you feel like you’re about to dive into the deep end of the pool without any floaties

you were going to ask if he wanted to come with you but you felt like this was something that you had to do alone

you swallow thickly as you tuck your car keys into your pocket

namjoon can’t be your bookworm wingman forever, right?

the store is almost suspiciously quiet as you step in, the little bell ringing above your head as per usual

your classes ended a little later today which is why you weren’t able to come in the afternoon

pluS you had to find a way to get namjoon to go home without you without raising any eyebrows so that sucked up a little more of your time

you were going to tell him that you were going to stay on campus to study at the library but even you couldn’t believe that

so you told him that you had a group project to work on which was why you couldn’t have dinner with him tonight!

you jump in surprise when the door suddenly slams shut behind you from the breeze

it’s a little chillier now that it’s november but it’s nice that you get to wear cozy cardigans and snuggly sweaters now

“i’ll be right there!”

you hear taehyung’s voice ring out from the second floor and you swallow your nerves as you stand up a little straighter

fake it till you make it, right?

i love books

i love books so much

i love books so much that i would fuck a book if i could!

...okay, maybe not that one.

you glance around the store - there doesn’t seem to be anyone else here

which makes sense because the sign says that the store closes at 7pm on weekdays and it’s…

6:50

wow

so you’RE the asshole who comes into the place ten minutes before closing time

good one!

“so sorry for the wait, i was just-” taehyung pauses on the steps, his face immediately lighting up when he sees you, “oh, y/n!”

“hi!” you chirp before reaching up to scratch the back of your neck, “sorry i came ten minutes before you’re supposed to close… i wanted to come earlier, but i had a thing…”

“oh, don’t even worry about it!” taehyung snorts, tossing the dirty rag over his shoulder, “i was just doing some dusting…”

you feel your mouth go drY as soon as you notice what he’s wearing

he’s wearing a henley tee (except all the buttons are undone and aLso he has his sleeves pushed up to his elbows), dark wash jeans, and a pair of tattered black converse sneakers

it’s just the casualness of it all that makes it so sexy

“so, what can i help you with tonight?” taehyung tosses the rag onto the counter before pushing his glasses back down from the top of his head

he adjusts them slightly before blinking at you and you find it awfully cute that his doe eyes now look a little bigger through the thick lenses

what can he help you with tonight?

…yeah, what can he help you with tonight?

the downside of not telling namjoon about your solo mission is the fact that namjoon’s usually the one who plans every little detail out for you

and you just came here on a whim

you don’t have a plan

you don’t have a plan at all!

your plan was to just come to the bookstore to see taehyung because you wanted to see taehyung

“i…”

“oh, by the way-” taehyung perks up suddenly, “how was your little trip down memory lane with the catcher in the rye?”

the catcher in the rye?

the catcher in the rye!!!

ah! yes!!

that’s definitely something to talk about!

…wait a second

you-

you didn’t read the book

oh god

you had two weeks to read the book and you didn’t read the book

almost immediately you feel your anxiety sPike back up and you can’t help but scold yourself for not bringing namjoon along with you

if namjoon was here, you’d just get him to say all the main points and you’d stand right next to him throwing in the occasional ‘yes, very good point!’ and ‘of course, i completely agree’ every now and then!

“the catcher in the rye!” you blurt out, suddenly aware that you haven’t spoken in like ten seconds, “i- yes! the book was- it was great. i thoroughly enjoyed it. i would definitely read it again!”

“hey, that’s great!” taehyung laughs lightly, “you know- i mean, i have to ask because i always ask this question to people who’ve read it- what do you think the main theme of it is?” taehyung hums, “because i’ve always thought it focused a lot on alienation, you know? i mean, a loss of innocence is obviously another theme, what, with holden wanting to be sheltered from the harshness of adult life- i really think it can actually be seen as some kind of social commentary… like a critique of the superficiality in society-”

“of course, i completely agree!” you nod furiously, “those are very good points-”

“i’m sorry, i’m probably sucking up all the oxygen in the room-” taehyung smiles sheepishly before shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans, “so what do you think?”

if there was ever a moment for a black hole to appear in the floor and swallow you whole… you’d want for it to happen right now.

actually, you’d want it for it to happen whilst you were driving to the bookstore so that you wouldn’t have even gotten the chance to say hi to taehyung

“i think… well, i… first of all, i agree completely with everything that you just said about aliens and… you know, a loss of innocence and how hard adult life is…” you stumble over your words, your face beginning to flush from how idiotic you probably sound, “i just… i have to talk about my favourite part in the book! you know, the part where holden- holden, that’s the name that you just mentioned- he… he does such a great job at catching those loaves of bread. i thought that part was hilarious.”

you clear your throat at the end of your mini-review

taehyung’s eyes flicker slightly and for a second you think you’re in danger of being called out for obviously noT having read the book but…

he nods slowly and brings his hand up to stroke his chin thoughtfully, “i mean… yeah. i completely agree! that part always gets me! why don’t you go on? i’m interested in hearing more of your thoughts.”

oh!

hey, would you look at that??

phEW

maybe you’re better at improvising than you thought you were

now knowing that you’re on the right track gives you a booST of confidence and you give yourself a mental pat on the back

you can’t wait to tell namjoon about this

he’s going to be so proud of you!!

you grin before nodding enthusiastically, “of course! i have a lot of thoughts to share on the book. i mean, i personally think it was an interesting choice on the author’s part to choose rye as the main ingredient, because he had… so many other options that he could’ve gone with! and also - did he go with light rye or dark rye?? because throughout the entire novel, he never actually specifies what kind of rye bread he’s referring to-”

taehyung leans back against the counter and crosses his arms, smiling politely as he continues to listen to your rye bread rant

it’s obvious that you definitely didn’t read the book but he was genuinely curious as to what you would be able to pull out of your ass which was why he asked you to go on

he doesn’t think anyone’s ever gone into a full-blown ramble about how the catcher in the rye is actually a narrative on the benefits on rye bread for lil ol’ him before

but, for the record…

it’s really cute how much effort you’re putting into your analysis to try to impress him

“i’m sorry, i need to- i need to interrupt you-” taehyung giggles, cutting you off right as you’re about to dive into a discussion about the number of loaves holden caught in the novel, “as much as i would love to hear more… everything that’s coming out of your mouth is wildly inaccurate, y/n.”

what

...

oh my god.

“wh-” your throat goes dry and you choke a little, “what?”

“be honest- did you read the book?” taehyung asks flat-out and you feel your cheeks burning up again

uh-oh

“i…”

okay

forget it

you can’t do this anymore!

it’s too stressful!!!!

“…no.” you press your lips together before shooting taehyung a sheepish grin, “there’s no catching loaves of bread in the novel, is there?”

“not even one loaf.”

“oh, god-” you groan quietly, reaching up to cover your hot face with your hands at the realisation that you just very confidently ranted about the importance of rye bread in this novel for the past five minutes, “not even one?!”

mortifying!

absolutely mortifying!!!!

well

it’s time to tell namjoon to find a new favourite bookstore because you are nevER bringing him back here agai-

“hey, it’s totally fine!” taehyung laughs lightly, stepping closer to you so that he can pry your hands away from your flushed face, “i actually think it’s really impressive how long you can go talking about bread-”

“you let me- you knew that i hadn’t read the book yet you let me continue talking about bread-?!” you gawk, taehyung now bursting into a full-blown chortle as he throws his head back, “how could you??”

“i couldn’t help it!!” taehyung wheezes, reaching up to flick a stray tear away, “i’m sorry! i’m sorry, really, i am-”

even when he’s laughing at you, your stomach can’t help but feel fluttery

“you’re lucky you’re pretty-” you snort, shaking your head gently, “otherwise i would be way more mad at you…”

taehyung’s laughs dwindle down into light chuckles and you swallow thickly when he takes a small step closer

“you’re lucky you’re pretty.” he retorts playfully, reaching over to move a strand of hair away from your eyes with his pinky finger, “otherwise i wouldn’t have let you talk my ear off about bread for five whole minutes…”

...he thinks you’re pretty?

“oh yeah?” you challenge, reaching over to jab your finger into his chest

taehyung reaches up to wrap his fingers around your wrist before offering you a particularly boyish smirk, “mm, yeah.”

you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips for a split second and you know it’s way too soon but you really want him to just lean down and kiss you…

“hey, do you like dessert?” taehyung pulls away suddenly before turning to make his way behind the counter

“de- dessert?” you ask dumbly, still a little dazed from... that

what was that?!

“mhm!” tae leans down slightly and flips a couple of switches underneath the counter, the chandelier light shutting off first before the other little lights begin to switch off as well, “there’s a little diner about a block away that makes really good strawberry cheesecakes.”

“i love dessert!” you nod, “and strawberry cheesecake sounds really yummy.”

“good! in that case, would you be interested in sharing a slice of cheesecake with me and perhaps delving deeper into your rye-based analysis?” taehyung teases as he grabs his coat off the back of his chair, his keys jingling in his hands

you snort lightly

“i would love to share a slice of cheesecake with you but i refuse to embarrass myself further, so we’re going to have to find something else to talk about-”

taehyung holds the door open for you and you immediately shiver as you step out, the chilly air a stark contrast from the warmth of tae’s cozy store

you jolt in surprise when taehyung reaches down and slips his fingers in between yours (which he later explains he only did because his hand was cold and definitely noT because he just really really wanted to hold your hand) before beginning to tug you along next to him

“well, we can talk about the fact that you thought the name of the book was catch her in the eye-”

“i knew you heard me! i knew it!!”

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

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