#(studying; reading jane austen; sleeping; reading jane austen; looking for work; reading jane austen) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

warmau · 3 years

Text

☆ lovestruck!au x librarian!au taeyong other lovestruck!aus: jeno | chenle | haechan | jisung

a tower of books is blocking taeyong's vision, just a voice comes echoing out from behind them

"do you have a classics section?"

"of course! which author?"

there's a pause and taeyong starts to get up so he can at least see who he is talking to

"who would you recommend?"

taeyong is already running through his alphabetized list that he's spent hours on making in his head

when you love books as much as he does, a question like that makes everything around him spark

but then he sees you

you seem to be frowning, looking down at the screen of your phone as the familiar notification sound of the college email comes vibrating through the room

a couple of people studying nearby turn to glare and you whisper a small apology as you put your phone on silent and meet taeyong's gaze

taeyong almost wishes you hadn't

the urge to bring up the long sleeves of his oversized cardigan to hide his face starts to take over his brain instead

they're so cute - i can't look at them!

you blink when taeyong doesn't say anything - he looks as if he has suddenly been struck by lightning

"sorry - is everything ok?"

your concern seems to do the trick, taeyong mentally mocks himself for being so awkward, and he says the one name that comes to mind easier than all the rest

"have you read, um, twain? m-mark twain?"

the look that you give him tells taeyong he's picked an author that could put you to sleep - not that he really would argue, it's just that suddenly all his knowledge has seeped away into the darkest corner of his brain

"no..i mean i have tried to, but he's kind of - boring?"

"jane austen?"

"aren't most of her books a thousand pages long?"

"is - are you looking for a book for a project?"

you poke your tongue into your cheek, the little action makes taeyong suddenly feel like jello

"kind of - one of my classes wants us to find a classic author that speaks to us personally. the only issue is none of them speak to me - most of them are dead anyway right?"

taeyong stares at you and then gives a little nervous chuckle

you stare back and sigh in defeat

"i know i must be annoying you right now."

"no- no! no, i just......i -"

i just can't stop looking at you and it's kind of insane

taeyong pushes the thought back and levels himself and his emotions

"i think you might want to find someone that isn't exactly a 'classic' author?"

this intrigues you, your shoulders perk and you lean over the librarians counter

the sudden action nearly topples the neat bunch of books that had originally blocked taeyong from seeing you and he circles his arms around it protectively as he tries not to fall into the stars that are looping through your gaze

"what do you mean?"

"w-well the assignment is a classic author who speaks to you right? there are lots of authors from that same time who aren't labeled classics but they - they might fit that category to you."

he is still holding his fingers on the spines of some of the books as you think about the sentiment

"like who?"

taeyong, looks at the pile in front of him, mostly to avoid direct eye contact with you, but then he notices something in the mix

through the mess of titles and textbooks and more he sees one of the colleges oldest and most checked out books

the great gatsby

briefly, he thinks about the way in which gatsby speaks about daisy

a flickering thought of the almost desperate love someone could feel for another

you tap your fingers and the little memory lights something else in taeyong's mind and he asks you in a small voice,

"have you ever read zelda fitzgerald's work?"

you haven't - actually you were unaware she was ever a writer - and when you ask taeyong if her work is available in the library he shakes his head

"she wrote a novel, save me the waltz, really not popular enough to ever become a classic but if you read it and like it i think -"

"well how can i read it if the college doesn't have a copy?"

taeyong thinks he feels the temperature of his skin rise a little because

"i-i own a copy."

this time you do knock over the tower of books, simply because you jut your upper half over the counter to ask him if he'd ever consider lending it to you and your elbow catches right on one of the books

they topple over and the loud crash echoes a wave of irritations throughout the library again as you scramble behind the desk to help taeyong get them back in order

behind the desk like this - you ask him in a whisper

"i know im a stranger, but you can trust me with the book - i promise!"

taeyong wants to say of course, but all he manages is a shy hiccup when your hands brush over the same cover

"here -" you stack the rest of the books up and then push your phone into this palm "give me your number and we can meet up"

the rest of it all happens in a blur

taeyong gives you his number - you delete the contact name and write yong with a little book emoji instead

you text him and insist he put your name down with your favorite little pink flower

after his shift, he heads to his dorm and finds the book - smiling to himself silently as his dormmate doyoung stares with a look of curiosity from behind his pre-law homework

and then - it hits ten p.m. - and the all-night cafe on campus is packed and warm and taeyong is standing in front of it with a small scarf around his neck and the book placed carefully in a manilla envelope

you come bounding down the street, ten minutes late, and skid to a stop in front of taeyong

you call him mr. librarian and taeyong doesn't know if the feeling in his stomach is love or his lunch

"thank you thank you thank you - ill be sure to let you know if i use it for my project!"

he assumes you just mean one text after you're done reading it - a yes this is perfect or a i think i need to find something else!

what taeyong does not expect is that the two weeks you work on your project, you text him daily

the book is only a mere 230 pages - but you keep telling him about passages and the old articles you're finding on zelda

somehow you took one little book and pulled so much from it

taeyong thinks its been a long time since he's seen someone fall so much in love with a writer that he misses the feeling he used to get too

one evening he gets your text just as he's finishing up shelving at the library, he stops to lean against the cart and read it

submitted my project, i have to see you and give you back the book!

he thinks for a second, chewing on his lower lip

you can keep it, you've come to love it.

the bubbles pop up fast and taeyong nearly loses the grip on his phone when you reply

that's so sweet, but i actually just really want to see you too.

and so you pop by the library when it's only him left, he's closing it with the key the school trusts on him with (and the janitor)

and he almost jumps out of his skin when he turns and you're there - beaming a huge smile at him

you're holding the book and he says, "no really you can keep it-"

"do you want to go to dinner with me?"

taeyong doesn't know if you've been privy to his feelings all along

did you, standing there behind that tower of books, already know he was going to start thinking about you every day after he saw you

did you already know he'd feel like a helpless schoolboy with a crush on the sun?

either way you don't admit it - you just keep that huge smile across the table with pieces of cake between you two and steaming cups of tea

you babble about your project, about how you had to defend not picking someone more obviously 'classical'

and taeyong does the one thing he learnt from romantic movies and novels, that when you shiver in the cold air of the cafe, he shrugs off that huge cardigan he's always wearing and offers it to you without much of a word

you pull your hands through it and go

"it feels like a hug!"

when you're both done with your food, you ask taeyong if he's going to walk back to the dorm - you have to take the shuttle across campus

"thank you for treating me, you didn't have to all over a book."

he shyly scratches the back of his neck and he still doesn't ask for you to give him his cardigan back

you look much cuter wearing it anyway, in his opinion

in the breeze of the night, you step closer to him and taeyong swallows because you're looking straight at his lips

"it wasn't just for the book. are you book lovers so dense?"

"hu-"

he starts as you lean in to kiss him, gently and sweetly, the lingering taste of cake and tea on your lips

taeyong almost falls over - his saving grace is your hand wrapping around his wrist

"ive seen you in the library before.....so when i got this project i thought it would be the perfect time to talk to you and ive always liked you, so i cant believe how nice you were to me-"

you start, confessing an onslaught of feelings taeyong was oblivious to

"-and if you don't feel the same i understand."

taeyong has never been straightforward in his life, but he answers your concern with another quick, soft kiss to your lips

he doesn't say everything he wants to either when he pulls back and you're giving him a slight look of shock

i like you too, ive liked you ever since i saw you - ever since you toppled that tower of books back on me - ever since you helped me put it back together behind the librarians' desk

he can't force the words out instead he goes,

"please keep the book.....and my cardigan is yours too."

#lovestruck!au #nct scenarios #nct au #taeyong scenarios #taeyong au #nct imagines #taeyong imagines #nct 127 #nct #taeyong #taeyong x reader #sfw

374 notes · View notes

justanotherlifeff · 4 years

Note

If you're not comfortable with this, it's okay to skip. Aizawa has feelings for an "old soul" type of student in her last year at UA (so they're 18), but doesn't want to act on it for obvious reasons. She's had a crush on him since day 1 but respects him too much and doesn't want to get him in trouble. He shadows her on her first real mission and she gets hit with a quirk that makes her horny af, and is a poison that can only be expelled via lots of sex, so he has to "help" her or she'll die.

Urges

Hehehehe guess who's also 18 and a simp for Aizawa sensei? 😏😏😏

Warning: NSFW, Smut, age gap, Teacher-Student stuff

Guilty was one way to put how Aizawa felt when he found himself checking you out yet again in class. You were the embodiment of perfection. You were smart, matured, quiet, you liked cats as much as he did, and ofcourse, you were the mom friend to all the rowdy students in his god forsaken class. Yes, that exactly was the only thing holding him back (besides the huge age gap). You were his student. Sure, you weren’t one of the big 3 in your class like Mirio, Nejire and Tamaki because your quirk wasn’t as strong as theirs. However, you were infact the one in class to get top grades in tests. Infact, you even helped Aizawa grade papers since you somehow understood the barely legible handwriting of some of the people in this class. You were this little ball of sunshine, bringing a bento for the students who always forgot to bring any, keeping everyone out of trouble, tutoring anyone who you felt was having a hard time studying... Hell, it seemed like your schoolbag had everything that a person could need in it. Anyone forgot a pen? Ask (Y/N). Anyone forgot their umbrella? Ask (Y/N). Anyone forgot to even bring themselves to school? ASK (Y/N) CAUSE SHE'LL PERSONALLY TAKE THEIR NOTES HOME AND GIVE THEM A LECTURE ABOUT MISSING CLASS unless they are sick. In that case, she'll take a bento full of healthy food. The entire class saw (Y/N) as this motherly figure who pretty much dealt with their problems on a daily basis with a smile. Aside from your extreme maturity, you were extremely creative beyond your age. When Present Mic was struggling to make the class read basic Shakespeare, you were already quoting Jane Austen's pride and prejudice, something that was not even in the syllabus. Needless to say, you shared various intellectual conversations with Aizawa while the two of you graded papers as the grumpy man also happened to have an interest on literature. While your friends went out to do random shit together, you were the one staying back home because ofcourse, messing around in random amusement parks wasn’t your thing. You liked staying in the background like an adult, watching the kids have their fun and guiding them. Could you really blame Aizawa for falling in love with you?

Then again, you were his student. That made all the perfects imperfections because he shouldn’t be looking at you this way. Little did he know that his feelings weren’t one sided. You had a crush on your teacher ever since you stepped into UA. Did you feel guilty about it? Yes, yes you did. Did you ever think of confessing to him? No, no you didn't. You were okay with loving him from a distance because you knew that you would only create trouble for him if you were to come out about your feelings. However, you couldn’t help but show that you cared through certain gestures. You'd go out of your way to help him grade papers so that he would get a few extra hours of sleep. Every morning, you'd buy an extra cup of coffee or his favorite jello drink for him on your to school just to make his day more tolerable. You never expected him to return your feelings, however. He was your teacher after all. This was wrong after all.

Things were going fine to be honest. Both of you admired eachother from afar, knowing that confessing wouldn’t lead to anything good either way. That was until you were sent on a mission for your work studies. Your employer was busy with a different mission and your quirk was compatible against the villain you had to capture which is why, you were sent alone, much to Aizawa's displeasure. It wasn’t that he didn't believe in you because he did. He knew that you were strong but you were still a student. You didn’t have the experience that a pro hero had and they didn't even consider the fact that there may be unprecedented situations. Hence, he found himself staring at you more than often, trying to memorize every inch of you visible to him so that if something goes wrong he'd atleast... No. Nothing was going to go wrong. Not when he had something to do about it.

Hence, after class was over, Aizawa found himself following you discreetly, making sure that you didn't notice him. Aizawa was excellent at hiding his presence since that was the type of hero he was, which is why, you had no clue that he was following you. You followed the plan laid out by your employer flawlessly and almost caught the villain until a second party decided to show up. Aizawa recognized the other villain from his hiding spot. She had been wanted for quite long time however, before Aizawa got out of his hiding place to aid you, the villain had already used her quirk on you. Now that Aizawa had to choose between going after the escaping villains or checking on you, he did the latter since that's what a doting teacher who totally didn't have feelings for a certain student would do.

You were panting on the ground, your hands gripping the fabric of your hero costume near your thighs tightly as you were avoiding Aizawa's gaze. "(L/N), are you alright? How do you feel?" Aizawa asked you, worried. You tried to answer to him but you only managed to let out a patheric whimper. Only if you could stop how horny his voice was making you... Your whimper suddenly reminded the erasure hero of the certain villain's quirk. Cupping your face with one hand to make you look at him, he met with an extremely flushed expression from you along with lust blown eyes. The view before him did nothing but create a certain straining inside his pants. The villain's quirk made people horny, he recalled. Not having sex would make their body overheat and cause a complete organ failure, he remembered.

"S-sensei... I can't... I'm sorry..." you half whimpered half moaned as you hugged your teacher, desperate for any form of touch at this point. You couldn’t help it. His musky scent was way, way morr prominent to you now and your body was betraying your mind relentlessly. "Shhh (L/N)... It's gonna be alright. We need to get out of this alley first though..." Aizawa muttered, a small amount of pink dusting his cheeks. He was at loss on what he should do at this point. He knew that there was no other way out of it without you having sex at some point. Was he okay with you doing the deed with someone else all while he was aware of it? A selfish part of him told him that no, he wasn’t okay with it. Honestly, this was the perfect opportunity for him to get a taste of you. If things got out, he could tell everyone that he did it to save you. If you didn't return his feelings, this would be that one chance at ravishing you.

Shouta Aizawa was a good teacher and an honourable man at most parts. However, he didn’t hesitate in being selfish when his actions clearly wouldn’t hurt anyone. Which is why, he took you to his home. On his way, in the cab he hired, he explained the quirk of the villain to you. You tried staying normal as you constantly held hid hand, squeezing tightly as your horniness only increased drastically. By the time you reached his home, your legs were shaking and you could barely walk. Aizawa helped you walk into his apartment, avoiding picking you up since that would look awkward in public. By the time you were in his living room, your legs completely gave out as you were engulfed by his scent, the feeling of his touch messing you up.

"Sensei... I'm sorry.. Please... I can't take this anymore... Help me please...." you whimpered into his chest, hiding your embarassed face from him as the two of you sat on the ground. You knew things would never be the same between you and your beloved teacher anymore. Hell, he'll probably hate you for this. You were scared. Very scared. On the other hand, Aizawa was turned on beyond belief. Your soft whimpers, ragged breathe was just as good as he had imagined for months and more. He couldn't keep his hands off you any longer. He didn't intend to either. "I'm sorry, (L/N). I'll help you. I know you probably wouldn’t want me in normal circumstances but you don't have to talk to me again if this ends up making things awkward for you." Aizawa muttered to you soothingly before kissing you, making you lose all control as soft moans elicted from your mouth into his. Your clothes were taken off skillfully and fast as Aizawa touched your twitching groins. A rather loud moan escaped your mouth at that making Aizawa smirk. 'How cute...' he thought as he proceeded to enter a finger into your sopping pussy. However, your reaction to that was not quite expected. You flinched and held him tightly, biting your lips. He immediately took his finger out only to find blood coating it.

"You're a virgin?" Aizawa asked with a grimace. You were always popular among the class thanks to your maturity and he assumed that you had some experience. "Yeah... I've been waiting..." you gasped at the lack of his fingers. "I'm sorry, (L/N). I wish I could avoid this because this must be something very special to you and..." Aizawa was contemplating his decisions but you stopped him with a teary smile. "I was waiting for you... Please take me... I'm so happy now..." you told him, surprising him. These mere words made him feel as if his entire body was on fire as he kissed you furiously, gently easing his fingers back into you, waiting for you to adjust. His passionate kiss distracted you from the pain as he made you sit on his lap comfortably while you wrapped your hands around his neck. Just when you started bucking your hips towards his hands, he started pumping his finger in and out of you, adding an extra finger with time and stretching you out as fast as possible so that he could move to the main event.

"Let's take this to the bedroom shall we, (Y/N)?" Aizawa asked you with a lazy smirk as he looked at your disheveled self. You already had an orgasm from his fingering since he surprisingly was rather skillful in this department. You only gave him a lustful gaze as he picked you up only to place you on his bed moments later. "I need you... Please sensei..." you whispered to him, making him harder than he had ever been in his entire life. "God you're so cute..." Aizawa hissed as he unbuckled his pants only to reveal his huge length, precum dripping from the tip. Taking a box of condoms from the drawer of the bedside table and putting the condom on hurriedly, Aizawa positioned himself over your entrance as he rubbed his length on you a few times making you squirm before entering you in one go making you yelp in pleasure and pain. He tried his best to stay still, letting you adjust to his length but damn it was hard since your insides were squeezing him so deliciously, almost making him lose his sanity. However, Aizawa was a patient man and he would never hurt you. Just as you began to move around under him, trying to grind against him, he started moving. While Aizawa was a patient man, the way your pussy made him feel could break even the most patient man in the world. Hence, Aizawa just couldn’t help it but pound into you for dear life. While it hurted you slightly at the begining, in a few moments, you started to enjoy it just as much as he did. Your legs were wrapped around his hips as you marked his shoulders with your nails while you moaned loudly much to Aizawa's delight. A string of incoherent words escaped your mouth including something similar to "please sensei" and "more", which only increased Aizawa's determination on pleasuring you. His mission to make you a blabbering mess was infact successful since at the end of it all, you just went through your third orgasm for the day, you were drooling as your eyes were rolled back. You could barely speak as you moaned loudly, not aware of how loud you were being. At this point, Aizawa was chasing his own orgasm and he had to say, your state infront of him made sure that he was close, very close.

When Aizawa finally had his orgasm, he could say that this was the best sex he ever had in his entire life. Your overstimulated body laid under him, completely exhausted and panting while he laid beside you trying to catch his own breathe. That's when it all hit him like a brick. He fucked his student. Someone who probably told him that she was waiting for him only because of the effects of the quirk. What if you regretted it now? How could he show his face to you again? As if you were reading his mind, he felt you cuddle up to him with a shy smile on your face. Wrapping an arm around you, Aizawa asked with a stoic expression, hiding the insecurities inside him, "(Y/N), did you mean it when you told me that you were waiting for me?". It seemed as if the question made you even shyer than you were already as you hid your face on his chest and he didn't know what to make of it. "I had a crush on you ever since you stepped into the classroom for the first time in my first year and it only grew. I never told you because I didn't want to be a bother or get you in trouble. I understand if you don't return my feelings." you answered, your voice sounding rather sad. "(Y/N), I feel the same way. The only problem is, you're my student. Would you be okay with me taking you out after you graduate?" Aizawa asked you in a soft tone. You looked up at him, surprise and adoration lacing your face. "I... Ofcourse sensei..." you answered with a blush. "It's Shouta for you when we're alone, kitten. Except maybe in bed cause you look absolutely sinful when you're calling me 'sensei' " Aizawa smirked at you making you blush and hide your face on his chest yet again.

"Shouta? Remember when you asked me out?" you asked your husband as you looked at the album in your hand as you sat on his lap on a rainy afternoon. "Hmm... We had good sex that day..." Aizawa muttered lazily as he took a sip from the cup of coffee in his hand. "Huh? That's all you remember?" you pouted. How could he not remember the extremely romantic cuddling session afterwards? "Mhhm... Would it be weird if I said that it was kinda hot that you were my student back then?" he asked with a lazy smirk. It was both of your day off and somehow, the weather was extremely romantic at the same time. That was until your husband decided to act like a pervert and ruin the mood.

"You really are a perverted old man you know..."

"And yet you still love me, kitten"

[Author's note: Guess I kinda went overboard huh...👀. Alright, so I REALLY appreciate long asks with more description cause they are SO FUN TO WRITE cause they give me a better idea on how to write the fic. This was my most favorite ask so far tbh]

#bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa smut #aizawa × reader #aizawa x you #shouta aizawa x reader #mha shouta #bnha shouta aizawa

731 notes · View notes

pieceofbiscuit · 3 years

Text

I was tagged by @mygeekcorner <3

Nickname: Eh, never had one. I guess my grandma called me “Jänta min” a lot <3 (My sweetie)

Zodiac: Cancer

Height: 169cm

Last movie I saw: I watched Min pappa Marianne (My dad Marianne) I’m also rewatching Lord of the rings at the moment

Last thing I Googled: Europa Universalis, I guess it’s some kind of game? The name was cool, so I looked it up a little.

Favorite Musicians: Uuuh I like a lot but, Veronica Maggio and Marina? Taylor Swift’s latest albums are great too.

Song stuck in my head: Plastic Love, hell yeah.

Other blogs: Not really?

Blogs following: 30

Amount of sleep: Almost was going to be 5 hours cause my cat Alice was waking me up. Then I proved to her that I’m even more stubborn and slept 2 hours more to spite her. (I do love her but why is she insisting on waking me up lately??)

Lucky number: 12

What I'm wearing: Jeans and a black shirt that says Hollywood California USA, in pink letters. Tourist shirt from my trip there, nice memory!

Dream job: Well, as a kid I wanted to be a tour guide for a while because I liked to travel. At present I’m studying to be a librarian, it feels like a dream job actually! Author/illustrator if I ever had the perseverance.

Dream trip: Japan and Gran Canaria again hopefully. They are close to my heart. And Germany where my sister lives <3 and the UK because Harry Potter and Jane Austen. Greece and Italy because I love their ancient history.

Languages: Swedish, English fluent, Japanese intermediate and understandable Spanish from high school. I’m trying to get back to Japanese and Spanish to get to higher levels. I did have lessons a year in Russian but only remember how to read the Cyrillic alphabet. (I need to work on that)

Favorite food: Teriyaki rolls, anything with mushrooms, hamburger, pineapple pizza and pasta. Favorite is Swedish stewed macaroni. East Asian food in general, especially deep fried chicken. Pringles!!

Play an instrument: Played the saxophone for a while, would like to try again one day.

Favorite song: Från och med du with Oskar Linnros and How will I know with Whitney Houston

Random Fact: My mum believes for certain that I could see ghosts in our old house as a child, I don’t remember it, I was around 4 or 5 years old. I wonder if it wasn’t a sign of my strong imagination but who can say?

Describe yourself as aesthetic things: A foggy morning on a field, a full moon on an evening walk and a breakfast toast with a cat in your lap.

10 notes · View notes

be11atrixthestrange · 3 years

Text

Step 12: Asking Her To Marry You

From 12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Hermione Granger

(Which is now complete!!)

Check it out on Ao3 or FFN!

————————————

Asking Her To Marry You

At this point in your relationship, you’ll hopefully know her well enough to plan the perfect proposal. But don’t worry too much about perfection— if you’ve followed our advice, she’ll be charmed enough to say yes to an imperfect one too. So alas, this is where our guidance ends, your future together begins. Best of luck!

————————————

Ron chuckled at the book’s irritating, yet unsurprising lack of advice. Annoyingly, the book was right— he no longer needed its guidance. What he needed was sleep, in fact, his body was now begging for it.

He set the book on the table beside him and curled up behind Hermione. With his face in her hair and his arm around her waist, he closed his eyes and was asleep in no time. Any anxiety about the next day was appeased by his dreams, in which his elaborate— maybe slightly exaggerated— plan to propose went off without a hitch.

xxxxx

In his dream, Hermione was the first to rise— as usual, and Ron woke to the sound of the shower. Ron watched himself stumble out of bed and into the steam to join her, where she enthusiastically embraced him, jumped into his arms, and wrapped her legs around his waist. He pinned her to the wall and kissed her lips, her cheeks and her neck before working his way down her body. Dream-Ron moved his mouth between her legs while Hermione gripped his hair and slipped her thigh over his shoulder. Pleased with his own technique, Ron smugly watched on as Hermione unravelled, and he hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time that day Dream-Ron would invoke such an enthusiastic exclamation while down on one knee.

Almost too suddenly, the shower scene morphed and shifted like a memory transition in a pensive. Dream-Ron was in the kitchen, and Hermione was curled up in the living room with a book. Pots and pans sizzled on the stove, and the scent of a hearty breakfast filled the air. The tea-kettle whistled and he poured two cups before piling their plates high with food. They sat cozily on the sofa, eating breakfast and confirming plans for the day.

The walls of their apartment then faded away, rematerializing into what appeared to be a blend of a nearby bookstore and the Hogwarts library. Ron and Hermione were quickly engulfed by the maze of bookshelves. Hermione’s mind was always turning, looking for problems to solve and puzzles to complete, so she didn’t protest when Ron handed her the first book— Wuthering Heights, and told her he’d set up a puzzle for her to solve. In that book he’d dog-eared a page, and circled letters that named the title of the next one. Ron saw a smile spread across her face as she began her hunt, excitedly flipping through each novel until her stack included Wuthering Heights, as well as Iliad, Little Women, Life of Pi, Year of Wonders, Oliver Twist, and Utopia.

Hermione became so engrossed in the scavenger hunt that she didn’t notice Dream-Ron leave the bookshop. She had no problem finding the rest of the books, and was soon holding a stack of blurry titles which Ron knew to be Moby Dick, Alice in Wonderland, Robinson Crusoe, Rabbit Hill, Youngblood Hawke, and Mansfield Park. There was just one more to find— Jane Austen’s ‘Emma’, which happened to be a portkey enchanted to bring her to Grimmauld Place.

It might have seemed like a random assortment of books, but it wasn’t. Ron had spent significant effort locating these exact titles, and he could list them in order by memory, and as a result, they’d been swimming in his dreams for quite some time now. He knew Hermione was clever enough to figure out the pattern, possibly too clever— so much so that she might miss the connection entirely. After all, she frequently overlooked what was right under her nose.

As soon as she laid her hand on Emma, the walls of the Corner Books—Hogwarts Library hybrid started spinning, morphing into the drawing room of Grimmauld Place as if it had taken a long swig of polyjuice potion. Soon enough, Hermione was standing face-to-face with Harry and Ginny.

“Hermione!” Ginny said excitedly. “You made it!”

“Where’s Ron?” she asked excitedly.

Harry answered by handing her another scrawl of paper.

Meet me in the place we first kissed. You’re clever enough to find out how.

Hermione looked up at Harry and Ginny, letting slip a little huff of annoyance. “That would be the room of requirement.”

Ginny shrugged, as tight-lipped as Ron had told her to be.

“The only way to get there is with a house elf—“

“Keep reading,” said Harry.

Hermione glanced back down to the note.

Ps: Remember what I said to earn that kiss!

Hermione scowled at the note.

Harry nodded. “I can summon Kreacher if you want—“

“No!” she said, and Dream-Ron smiled. Just like at the battle of Hogwarts, he would never force house elves to be part of his proposal plan, and he understood her well enough to assume she knew that. “There’s another way.”

Harry smiled and gestured to the rest of the house. “Have fun.”

The world spun around her once again, shifting into another room upstairs. Hermione was suddenly standing in front of one of the Vanishing Cabinets that the Aurors had confiscated from an ex-Death Eater months prior. In his dream, the cabinet was a bit more obvious than in reality. It was tall, colorful, and bursting with energy as though it were alive, unlike the dull, dark, and sinister version that actually existed. Even though the cabinet looked fun and enticing in the dream, Dream-Hermione was still a skeptic, so she stood in front of it with her arms crossed, her face scrunched up as though it had called her a dirty word.

Ron had pulled some serious strings to set the second one up in the Room of Requirement, but luckily, McGonagall was as much of a hopeless romantic as he was. Hermione continued to study the cabinet from a distance, as if checking for dark magic, and he understood her hesitation of course— she had no way of knowing where its sibling was. She gingerly opened the door to find another note scribbled inside.

You found it! See you on the other side.

Hermione beamed, and then to his confusion, dropped her bag to the floor, hastily removing books. When her bag appeared empty, she piled two books back in— Year of Wonders and Emma.

Interesting. Ron wasn’t going to pretend to understand that choice, even in a dream-state.

He shrugged it off, which was easy to do once distracted by the look of pure giddiness on her face as she disappeared inside.

Grimmauld Place faded away, and its place appeared the Room of Requirement. Not that it was recognizable as such— Ron had asked the Room of Requirement to look a very specific way, and of course, it had obliged, exceeding all expectations. Hermione stepped out of the cabinet into what appeared to be a train compartment on the Hogwarts Express, just like the one where he had first met her.

She looked around, and tears filled her eyes as the memories of their first encounter flooded in. On the cabinet door was another note, which she unstuck from the wall with a trembling hand.

This is where we met! It’s also where I first realized how much I valued the opinion of that precocious know-it-all, Hermione Granger. I still check for dirt on my nose everyday.

Hermione shakily laughed, and wiped a tear from her eyes with her free hand. Then the train compartment doors slid open to reveal another room. This time it was a bathroom, much like the one where she nearly lost her life to a rogue troll when they were eleven.

She shuddered at the memory, but grinned when she noticed the writing on the wall.

This is where I learned exactly how desperate I was for your forgiveness, and how far I was willing to go to earn your friendship. Thank you for teaching me how to pronounce Wingardium Leviosa.

Her eyes watered again, blurring her vision so that she nearly missed the door sliding open again to reveal the next room. Patting her sleeve to her eyes, she stepped out of the bathroom and into the Great Hall, which was all dolled up for the Yule Ball. The Weird Sisters playing loudly in the background was a stark contrast to the soft decorations and draping lights which looked exactly as romantic as they did in their fourth year.

This time, however, the lights spelled out a message.

This where I realized I fancied you.

Hermione laughed, clearly not as saddened by the memory as she could have been. Instead, she appeared grateful for the event that made Ron’s daft teenage self realize she was not just any girl.

A pair of doors appeared across the room, and Hermione continued her way through, admiring the decorations with a soft smile on her face. When she exited, she found herself in the Gryffindor Common Room— more specifically— the armchairs and fireplace where they had spent so many nights huddled up close to one another, studying, talking, or simply sitting in comfortable silence.

Her eyes paused on a message plastered on the wall, just above the fire.

This is where I fell irrevocably in love with you.

She looked longingly at those chairs, like she wanted to take a seat by the fire and curl up with a blanket and a book. He could clearly imagine her eyes scanning the pages, her fingers drifting over the words as if touching them would make them real, and her lips forming into a content smile as the day’s stress left her body. It was a beautiful image of her in her default state, a picture that was one hundred percent Hermione. He’d never seen her happier anywhere else.

Dream-Ron had appeared behind her. He cleared his throat, and Hermione turned on her heels to face him, her eyes instantly re-watering at the sight of him.

“Hermione,” he began, his voice shaking with nerves. “I know that you don’t like surprises, so I hope this doesn’t come as one.”

Her lips quivered and she brought a trembling hand to her face to absorb the tears that were now falling freely down her face.

“I even spelled it out for you in the bookstore, so I hope you’ve had time to think of your answer.” She softly laughed and her eyes sparkled when he reached into his pocket and took a step toward her, lowering himself to one knee. With a shaky inhale to prepare, he asked the question. “Hermione Granger, will you marry me?”

Dream-Ron’s voice cracked like he was a teenager asking her to a dance, and he half expected her to look at him in confusion, and ask “what?”

But that’s not what happened. She was lost for words, and answered with her head which bobbed up and down as she ran toward him. He opened his arms to embrace her, but she halted.

“Wait!”

She dug into her bag, and pulled out the two books she had purposefully brought with her, Year of Wonders, and Emma. She handed them to Dream-Ron, who looked them over with an amused grin on his face, while she dove back into her bag. She pulled out a third— one that was not from the bookstore. Pride and Prejudice— her favorite book, the one she always has with her. It all made sense now.

Year of Wonders

Emma

Pride and Prejudice

Holding all three books, Dream-Ron smiled up at her. “Is… this a yes?”

“Well, seeing as I don’t have an S, it’s a ‘Yep’,” she said, before finally diving into his embrace as the books tumbled from his arms like basilisk fangs.

He had forgone all effort to keep from crying, and so had she. He momentarily pulled away from the hug to slide the ring onto her finger. It took a couple tries with their trembling hands, but then she fell heavier into his arms and he tightened his embrace. He lifted her up and carried her to an armchair, and they sat intertwined by the crackling fire, hugging, kissing, and crying into each other’s hair.

Ron half expected the room to shape-shift again, bringing them to the celebration at the Burrow where their families were waiting, but his dream never got that far. Their embrace in the armchairs began to feel even more real, and soon enough, the Gryffindor Common Room was fading to black.

xxxxx

Ron awoke in his own bed, his arms still wrapped solidly around Hermione. The sun was shining through the window, sending a beam of light to the floor where Crookshanks slept, belly up, as if he was trying to photosynthesize. Hermione began to shift restlessly in her sleep, groaning, as the light knocked on her eyelids like an unwelcome solicitor..

Reality set in, and it would have been easy to feel sad upon realizing his perfectly-executed proposal was all a dream. But instead, Ron just felt giddy with excitement. This could very well be the start of the best day of his life.

As long as everything went according to plan.

———————————————

“To Ron and Hermione!” exclaimed Arthur, reaching his champagne glass straight up into the air.

“To Ron and Hermione!” echoed a chorus of Weasleys, Grangers, and a Potter.

Glasses clinked, champagne splashed, and a beaming Ron slipped an arm around Hermione to pull her close to him. She tilted her head up to his, and he leaned in to capture her lips in a kiss. He felt her arms wrap around his middle and vaguely heard a few whistles in the background.

Ron and Hermione. It always had a ring to it.

No time had been wasted before preparing The Burrow for the celebration. CONGRATULATIONS was magically written on the wall in capitalized, tinsel-like lettering that flashed red and gold. Jean and Molly had prepared an impressive spread, which rivaled Hogwarts welcoming feasts. Hugo was already mentoring Arthur in the art of mixology, while Charlie and George eagerly volunteered to taste test each new cocktail. There was a cake shaped like an engagement ring, and it appeared that Ginny had gotten to it, because the words “about fucking time” were scribbled across in icing.

“So, Darling,” said Jean, as she refilled her champagne glass. “Aren’t you going to tell us how he proposed?”

“Yes, dear! Please tell everyone!” echoed Molly.

Hermione, who had just taken an unusually large bite of watermelon, replied with a look of surprise, as if for some reason she hadn’t expected that question. She slowly chewed, buying herself some time, and sent a panicked glance in Ron’s direction. A silent conversation followed.

How much do I tell them?

That’s up to you.

They squinted at each other for a few more moments, finalizing the details of their abridged story. Then Hermione turned back to her mom. “I’d love to tell that story.”

xxxxx

Earlier that day...

“Good morning,” were the first words Ron mumbled at the start of the best day of his life.

“Morning,” she muttered back.

He snaked his arm around her and pulled her close. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said, sending him a look of slight confusion at his eager confession of love. “I’ll be right back,” she added before hastily untangling himself from her arms, and bolting to the bathroom.

Ron groggily rolled out of bed to get dressed for the day. He opened the drawer of his nightstand to find the small velvet ring-box, and slipped it into his pocket before hobbling into the kitchen to make tea and start breakfast. He filled two mugs and set them aside to cool off while breakfast sizzled on the stove. His stomach twisted in a combination of hunger and nerves as he shuffled eggs around in the pan, planning out how he would introduce today’s activities. Luring her to the bookstore should be easy enough, but he hoped she was feeling up to the rest of the adventure.

He heard the shower starting upstairs, and turned the stove down to low. Remembering the colorful beginning of last night’s dream, he stumbled back into the bedroom, hoping Hermione wouldn’t mind a visitor. He presumptuously pulled off his shirt before cracking open the door to unleash a flume of steam into the bedroom.

Ron froze at the sight of Hermione. The shower was running in the background, but she was crouched on the tile floor, hovering her face over the toilet while she wretched. One hand wrangled her hair behind her head, while the other supported her weight on the floor.

Fuck.

“Hermione,” stammered Ron. “Are… are you ok?” He rushed to her side and knelt down, taking her hair from her hands. He cleared some loose strands away from her face while she gently shook her head.

“No,” she groaned. “Not okay—” her body interrupted her as she heaved again.

“Well, shit, Hermione,” he said softly, hoping his disappointment didn’t sour his words. Hermione rarely threw up. In fact, the last time he recalled had been during a panic attack in Australia before they found her parents. It suddenly occurred to him that this was the first time he’d held her hair on a bathroom floor while she vomited into the toilet. He felt a strange sense of pride, as if they had reached a new relationship milestone.

As his hopes for a smooth-sailing proposal started to fade, there was a part of him that considered asking her right there on the bathroom floor. It would have been the least romantic way to do it, and she’d probably hate him for it, but he doubted she’d say no. Something about seeing her in such a vulnerable state made his heart swell, and he wanted her to know it was that it was her humanity that he fell in love with.

Fuck, he’d marry her on a bathroom floor with vomit on her face, no question about it.

She grimaced and groaned, then leaned over the toilet yet again, and Ron gently held her close and rubbed her back as she suffered through the next wave of nausea.

He could maybe wait a little longer.

Eventually she stood up and wiped her face, revealing an expression of utter embarrassment. “Thank you,” she whispered, pointedly looking away from him. “I’m going to shower now.”

Ron scoured his mind for something to say that might make her feel less awkward. His randy brain landed on, “do you mind if I join you?”

Hermione paused, then laughed. “You want to shower with me?” she asked incredulously. “After that?” she added, motioning toward the bathroom floor.

“Well… always,” shrugged Ron.

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t exactly feel sexy right now.”

He wanted to tell her how wrong she was, and that his attraction to her was unconditional, but worried it would have come off insincere. “Ok. Breakfast is ready in the kitchen—”

“About that,” she interrupted. “It smells wonderful but…” she trailed off, motioning to the toilet where she’d left last night’s meal.

“Right,” said Ron. “Would porridge be better?”

“Yes.”

“Ok then. Porridge it is.”

“Thank you.”

Once in the kitchen, Ron scraped the remaining eggs and veggies into a leftovers box, and stored them in the refrigerator, before getting started on a gentler, blander breakfast.

To contrast the flavorless porridge he was making, Ron’s mind shifted into overdrive, trying to rework his proposal plan to consider Hermione’s nausea. Portkeys could upset even the strongest stomachs, and the Vanishing Cabinet was no walk in the park either. He had planned to floo to the Burrow from Grimmauld Place after returning together in the Vanishing Cabinet, and at the very least, they could always floo to the Burrow early…

Fuck.

Ron tried to keep an open mind about the day ahead. Maybe Hermione would be feeling better after her shower, and a trip to the bookstore would cheer her up. If that didn’t work, maybe his mum would be able to push the celebration back a day, and he could try tomorrow.

Everything was going to be fine.

He doubted that even more when Hermione never returned to the kitchen. Thinking he’d better go check on her, he left breakfast on the counter for the second time, and made his way back to the bedroom.

She had returned to the same place as before, crouched on the bathroom floor, head bowed over the toilet. She looked pale and sullen, and hadn’t bothered to change into day clothes or dry her hair after her shower. Her sopping wet hair stuck firmly to her towel which seemed to absorb enough water to save their neglected houseplants and she sat on the tile with the heaviness of a bag of flour.

“Hermione?” Ron asked tenderly.

She shook her head, and covered her face with her hands.

“You’re not feeling any better,” he said.

Hermione shrugged.

Ron willed himself to emotionally detach from the remaining images of Hermione in a bookstore, the Room of Requirement, and the Burrow and sat down next to her. With a closer look at her face he realized she was crying.

Fuck.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as he slipped an arm around her. “I’m worried about you. You’re never sick.”

She turned into him and buried her face in his chest, mumbling something incoherent.

“Sorry?” he said, pulling her close to him so he could hear her better.

Lifting her face from his chest for a brief moment, she said, “We haven’t been spending mornings together.”

She was right, their schedules had never lined up enough to enjoy waking up at the same time, and as of late that was even more true. “Hermione,” he whispered. “Has this been happening a lot?”

Hermione nodded and pressed her face back into his chest. She spoke so softly against his shirt that he might not have heard her, but the words demanded his attention. “Ron, I’m pregnant.”

The images that had been dancing in Ron’s mind were still there— Hermione gathering books, searching for the Vanishing Cabinet at Grimmauld Place, wandering through Ron’s memories, and embracing him by the fire in the common room. It almost felt that his mind was expanding so that those images took up less and less space, because they weren’t actually real, and this was.

In all that extra space, his mind cycled through visions of his future, playing memories yet to be made. For the first time since he had decided to ask her to marry him, proposing felt like a simple task because he saw far beyond that now. He wanted to ask her, but then he wanted to hold her hair if she got sick again. He wanted to run out at weird hours of the night to buy the food she craved. He wanted to go to that bookstore, not so she could partake in his scavenger hunt, but so he could buy all the books about pregnancy and parenting.

“Are you serious?” were the words that tumbled out of his mouth, dripping with pure excitement. She nodded affirmatively, and an involuntary smile spread across his face. He reached a hand to her cheek to wipe away a tear, before landing his lips on her forehead.

He felt her grinning under his hand, seemingly pleased at his positive reaction. Her excitement gave her next question a melody. “Well...what do you want to do?” She asked it confidently, like she already knew what he would say.

But she didn't know.

“I want to marry you,” he stated, like it was the most obvious question in the world.

She pulled away and squinted skeptically at him as if he might be joking, but there was nothing but sincerity in his eyes.

He then reached into his pocket, pulled out the ring box, and popped it open to reveal a beautiful solitaire ring— simple, understated, yet timeless, just like Hermione. Then a smile enveloped her face and she didn’t need to say anything at all. She leaned into his embrace, and he felt tears leaking from his eyes, elation on his face, and nothing but happiness.

They sat there intertwined and crying for some time until he realized she’d never actually answered. “So… will you?”

She responded wordlessly, with an enthusiastic nod against his chest, and he slipped the ring onto her finger.

It really felt like the rest of the world had disappeared and they were alone, the only people that mattered. When reality started to filter back, Ron had to chuckle at the sudden realization of what room they were in. It was almost funny how much effort he had put into planning out the perfect day, only to propose to Hermione on a bathroom floor.

“I had a better plan, you know,” he said finally. “To ask you.”

She shook her head and mumbled into his chest. “This was perfect.”

Maybe it was. Their friendship began in a bathroom, as did their relationship nearly eight years later, so it was quite fitting that he proposed in one too. He’d have to save his scavenger hunt for another occasion, but that was ok. He had a lifetime of opportunities ahead.

To outsiders, it might not be the most romantic story. Luckily, Ron didn’t give a fuck what outsiders thought, because he had Hermione.

xxxxx

“We had just woken up and were getting ready for the day. We got to talking, and I asked him what he wanted to do,” she said, wiping a stray tear from her face. “He said ‘I want to marry you.’ I... didn’t see it coming at all.”

Ron was thankful for the fact that his lopsided grin was pretty much stuck to his face, otherwise he might have winced. As he had predicted, Hermione had left out the most important piece of information. Without it, it all sounded rather unremarkable.

“Out of the blue?” asked Molly, her eyebrows raised.

In his peripheral vision, Ron saw Harry and Ginny exchange a knowing glance.

“Out of the blue.” said Hermione, before taking another big bite of her watermelon slice.

“I think that’s so romantic!” Jean had one hand resting on her heart, and her eyes sparkled with tears. “Ron, did you plan it like that?”

Ron inhaled sharply at the sound of his name. “Um, well no, actually,” he said, sending a reassuring look toward Hermione. “I had something more elaborate planned.”

“Then what happened?”

Ron grinned as he watched Hermione show off her ring to Ginny and Angelina who had appeared at her shoulder. “I just couldn’t wait any longer.”

Molly and Jean’s soft smiles and sparkling eyes suggested they were satisfied by that answer.

The celebrations continued into the evening hours, and sometime after dinner, Ron appeared at Hugo and Arthur’s makeshift bar to find that Hugo already had a drink waiting for him.

“Congratulations again, son!” said Arthur, before engulfing him in another hug.

“Thanks Dad,” he said.

“I’m going to check on my future daughter-in-law!” he said excitedly. “I’ll see if she wants a drink.”

Arthur scurried away, leaving Ron alone with Hugo.

“I already made you an Alexander,” Hugo said, sliding the drink across the table to Ron. “Made one for Hermione too.”

Ron felt his ears turning crimson, as if he’d been caught in a lie. Now was not the time to inform Hugo why his daughter wasn’t drinking. He would just have to drink for two today.

However, Hugo was quite observant. In a whisper he added, “there’s no alcohol in hers.”

Ron met Hugo’s unflinching gaze, and the two men stared at each other for an uncomfortable pause. The tension finally broke when Hugo smiled, and Ron felt a wave of relief. “How did you know?”

Hugo chuckled. “I’ve never seen her eat watermelon.” He took a dramatic swig of his own drink before continuing. “But Jean couldn’t get enough of it when she was pregnant with Hermione.”

Ron glanced over at Hermione, who was working her way through yet another slice of watermelon. He tried to remember the last time he’d seen her eating it, but was drawing a blank.

Hugo brought him out of his memories. “I guess our conversation about contraception was for shit.”

If Ron had just met Hugo, he might have put more effort into formulating a diplomatic answer. He might have interpreted his pursed lips as stern disapproval rather than a weak attempt to prevent himself from laughing at his own joke. He definitely would not have burst out laughing and answered the way he did.

“Total shit.”

Encouraged by a few cocktails, Hugo grinned widely and unleashed a hearty laugh. Then he did something surprising. He put down his glass, circled the table, and opened his arms to embrace Ron.

“I’m happy for you, son,” he said softly. “I hope you’re happy too.”

Ron saw no reason to hold back his tears, so he didn’t. He had always assumed his future father-in-law would consider Ron's happiness simply an extension of his daughter’s, but Hugo proved him wrong. This was a man who cared about him deeply, as if he was his own son and Ron could feel it. “I’ve never been happier.”

Hugo pulled him to arms length. Ron noticed a tear on his cheek and felt another wave of connection with the man. With a pat on his shoulder, he turned back to the bar and grabbed both glasses. “Now go have a drink. Have some fun,” he said before adding with a wink, “while you can.”

Ron found Hermione discussing wedding plans in the living room with Ginny and Angelina, and slid into a seat on the armrest of her chair. He pressed the glass into her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “non-alcoholic.”

She looked up at him and mouthed, thank you, before leaning against him while he slipped his arm around her.

Ginny was smiling at them as more Weasleys piled into the living room. Seeing Ron and Hermione together ignited another toast from the group. “To Ron and Hermione.”

“To Ron and Hermione!” echoed the crowd.

Plus one.

He’d never been more excited about anything in his life, and it was clearly evident by his expression. When she clicked her glass against his and looked him right in the eyes, he saw his own elation reflecting back at him, and knew she felt the same way. They had come so far, but their story was only just beginning.

#hp fanfic #ROMIONE #hpromione #romione fanfic #romione fanfiction #romione fluff #ronweasley #ron x hermione #ron and hermione #Hermione Granger #hermionegranger

45 notes · View notes

olde-scratch · 3 years

Text

So I watched LUCIDS 1-4 without any prior knowledge...

and here were my thoughts. I didn’t watch any backstory or anything so enjoy my suffering.

PART 1

“So what happens when the people inside of their dreams go to sleep?” They die

“What happens when we wake up? Do they go on living while we’re not there?” THEY DIE-

“Who are they anyway?” they’re faces that our brain catalogs and stores for later use, although it’s also arguable that every time we dream we go to an alternate reality and inhabit the body of another version of ourselves. Now, were you in a car accident and trapped underwater or-

Are they twins?

(Me tuning out to do something)

“-the squirrel in spongebob was your soulmate, making you a Sandy simp-”

Me, snapping back to the video: hold up-

[missed the part about the worksheet, realized it when i rewatched 10 mins later to make this post]

yall speakin gibberish idk what youre saying-

“I’m gonna go to bed.” bro it literally looks like morning-

“You should get some sleep you look terrible.” i get six hours of sleep a night minimum and i look worse than him shut up bro-

“jump into someone else’s dream” ah i know this con-

why they all got the same face-

haha funni meme

“--an interruptiion can create feedback and tear them apart.” Death. I long for thee.

Is that Karl Jacob’s jacket?

“a second grader” makes me think this is a different school system. [i was wrong? i think?]

“[get him to] eat your apple”

[in the dream sequence] weird dream, but ive had weirder. now, Why Pamper’s-

why does he suddenly have a knife-

“You put a filter on the Dreamscape feed?”

“Technically, you are seven years old.”

???????????

the second hand embarrassment is UGGGHHH

[reading the description] you mean like the guy who was knocked out for 2 minutes on a football field and woke to find he’d dreamt 17 years of his life? oh this shall be Fun

PART 2

[I check the description] “jasper cult” what the fu-

how many camp camp references can i make during this

Is the apple a reference to religion or does the creator just really ilke apples?

“meal.”

“meal?”

meal????

Wait why couldn’t that guy eat the apple? If he wanted it in the fruit bowl, wouldn’t there be a chance of the guy eating it anyways?? Why can’t the guy who brought the apple eat it?

well he’s Dead

[debating if I should read the backstory}

n a h h h h h -

Was he gonna feed the dead guy the apple or something? Why is he upset about the apple in this scene???

oooo the grownups are fightinnnngggg

Is he an antagonist?

HE WROTE A BOOK???

oh now i want food

ESTABLISH JUSTICE ENSURE DOMESTIC TRANQUILITYYYYYYYYYYYYY

“I watched all those aforementioned shows” what shows did i miss something what-

man why you gotta hate on her jane austen fanfic let her live bro

string theory! i can get behind that! sorta-

o no he found the memes-

BOY GOT KNOCKED OUT-

kim there’s people that are dying-

is SHE an antagonist?

quinn? calling himself jasper? u sure hes not just nonbinary? is this just a metaphor for transphobic parenting?

“He died... but somewhere, he grew up.” So is your plan to take a Quinn from a different universe and make him your own, thereby robbing another version of yourself from happiness? When does this ever go well?

Yknow most people, when they lose a kid,,,, kinda,,,,,,, dont go on a ceaseless quest to find another version of their kid that grew up without knowing that another version of his mother was invading other peoples’ dreams to find and kidnap him,,,,,,,, like aint u got a therapist-

“Once you get past the point of not knowing what’s real anymore, you realize it doesn’t matter.” Well, I Got Called Out-

PART 3

“you’re real, oliver.”

aRe yOu sUrE aBoUt tHaT-

“you’ve been infected by the anti-love parasite of Mandadon” the amatonormativity is strong

so anyways ive been infected since birth hbu-

“James Jasperson, creator of Japple” did you mean to Fancy Well-Educated Man in a Black Turtleneck? cause the only FWEMBT i allow near me is prof. hidgens

“are you winning?” says the capitalist

why did you rewind to see his face?? you have the same face????? is this just bc the creator doesnt like working with other people cause in that case same but???????

“it’s a bad idea. i’m not gonna do it.” we’ve all been there. and we’ve all done it.

looks like me trying to study. (i say, a person who has studied a total of five minutes throughout their entire life.)

your “Spartan trial” looks like a bunch of guys standing on a hill pretending to be something they’re not. Let The Man Bring His Snacks.

eat the apple.

is this your first existential crisis or something what a loser lets all point and laugh

“One of you should be spared, the other shall’nt.” did you mean shant or was that a choice-

yall gonna get called out for talking shut UP

“sorry if this is too personal, btw. are you okay?”

me, confused and half understanding what’s going on and also needing to sleep cause its almost one in the morning but wanting to finish what i can find of lucids which i only starting watching cause i saw an animatic of ranboo and dream w audio from it: i don’t know anymore

“i just want my life back... i was gonna get married-” AREN’T YOU LIKE SEVEN-

ay man if this is a sacrificial cult yall gotta get daniel-

UPDATE: I H A V E N O T F O U N D I T -

“oliver”

I F O U N D I T -

WHICH ONE IS QUINN?? WHO’S JASPER???? WHICH ONE IS BENJAMIN???? I THOUGH BENJAMIN WAS SEVEN BUT I THOUGHT HE WAS THE ONE GETTING MARRIED WHAT-

oliver. eat the apple.

“Can you still have memories even when you’re dreaming?” One time I woke up to my alarm and fell back asleep and in my dream I remembered that I had class in a few minutes and my dream self woke my real self up so fast I thought I was gonna get whiplash. Anyways, I was late to class bc of my computer but that doesn’t matter.

NOPE I FOUND IT. HERE’S THE AUDIO. THE ANIMATIC ONE. FINALLY.

im thinking car crash. but also maybe murder. but also maybe both? is it raining or was he drowning? is he in a coma? hmmmmmm?

wait olivers the one with the apple does that mean he’s the one dreaming? is the ending gonna be him and jasper (quinn? idk) fighting against ben and mrs hills about jasper eating the apple to save oliver from the dream? hmmmmmmmmmm-

waitwaitwait i thought oliver was 7 how is benjamin 7 years younger than him if they look the same age what what what explain america explain what you mean arkansaw-

are the cuts on his nose plot-relevant or

“What if you hadn’t been driving?” So I was right about the car accident but Mrs. Hills still said he was seven so did i mishear her say that BENJAMIN was seven? but even then oliver would be 14 and that would still be illegal-

“How are you feeling?”

“Like you’re a pretty bad therapist.”

mood

“--it makes it all bearable to have power over the stories we write in our heads” that’s why i write fanfiction

HE’S GOT THE NOTEBOOK HE’S GONNA WRITE SOMETHING ONE OF US ONE OF US ONE OF US

WHAT YOU MEAN AN EXPERIMENT THAT’S HIS NAME-

[upon reading the description] so i was right.

wait was that supposed to be the twist in part 2 about the apple in his pocket is that what the existential crisis was about i thought it was because he was introduced to the multiple worlds theory-

PART 4

wait wasnt the other one january 2018 why we going back to 2017-

appol

“--the future and the past all already exist” mhm yep figured this out long ago

there was simultaneously a point in time in which i hadn’t known about this, had been looking it up, had been watching it, and had been writing an ending to this post, and had been posting it the next morning before class. that time is both now and not now. Welcome To The Multiverse Theory or whatever its called-

“--my favorite scene of the movie is waking up next to you.” Mine is eating fast food as I listen to AJJ and play Minecraft. We are not the same.

Now I’m hungry but it’s 1 in the morning and i already put my retainer in god fu-

[reading description] what do you mean previously??? she did that in the first episode????????

[still on description] WHAT DO YOU MEAN WILL QUINN BITE THE APPLE AND GO TO BENJAMINS REALITY ISNT THIS OLIVERS REALITY AND HE HAS TO GET BEN TO BITE THE APPLE WHY IS APPLE CAPITALIZED IS THIS THE DOING OF THE FWEMBT

i should have watched the backstory i should have watched the backstory i should have watched the backstory i should have wa-

[description] oh ive been spelling quinn right the whole time nice

i hope she rejects you /j

WAIT BENJAMIN WAS THE ONE GETTING MARRIED TO ISABELLE

ISNT HE IN SECOND GRADE-

HE IS SEVEN YEARS OLD HOW IS HE GETTING MARRIED ARE THERE TWO BENJAMINS THAT WE’RE FOCUSING ON-

bro get out of the road ull get hit

how do you knOW WHICH ONE IS QUINN THEY ARE THE SAME PERSON-

wait

hills wants ben to feed quinn the apple bc in his mind, that will give hills and quinn a happy ending and she doesnt want ben to see the apple bc thats gonna mean ben will know that his reality isnt reality at all. so then oliver has to,,,, not let anyone eat his apple? he just has to wake up?

IS HILLS THE VILLAIN AFTER ALL ORRRRR

wait but if ben sees the apple wont he realize that his reality is wrong and his reality will change, making it so that hills doesnt get her son? or is there some time-based rule that says they’re only transported to the reality that the person believes at that moment? or is this another stab at the multiverse thing where an infinite amount of hills gets their happy endings while an infinite amount of hills doesnt and etc etc?

i should have watched the ba-

oooo dramatique

they’re in a time loop?

nope thats a new powerpoint

wait so theyre,,,, no-

wait-

nvm-

IS THE BEN WE KNOW AN ADULT GETTING MARRIED TO ISABELLE OR NOT-

“they were actually pretty nice” didnt they throw someone off a cliff-

oh so it got confusing THEN??? NOT BEFORE?????

“it all seemed so real.” is that Not the point of vivid REM sleep hallucinations-

is oliver gonna show ben the apple and ruin hills’ whole operation

WHO ARE ALEX AND RYAN-

“what’s 25-8″ bro dont do this to me-

yep hes gonna show the apple

ayyy the guy who stole karl jacobs jacket it back

the second hand embarrassment is back and I Hate It

all that happens in episode ONE??? bro get some better writers that is bad pacing

“it’s the best!” wait until season eight. no show has a good season eight.

quinn knows about the apple thing w the dreams and multiverse and realities dont he

YOU KILLED HIM

NOT KARL JACOBS NOOOOO HES ALREADY DIED ONCE

oliver is v relatable

wHaT iN tArNaTiOn-

lemme hear that explanaton again-

is bill cipher gonna show up? i hope bill cipher shows up. i miss gravity falls

“ah! a tree! ah! a tree! ah a tree!” moooooooood

did hills murder quinn

is your family the jasper cult

TOXXIICCCCCC get that lady out of your life quinn that is so toxic

“ ah! a tree! ah! a tree! ah a tree! ah! a tree! ah! a tree! ah a tree!” mooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooood

WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT’S THE END NO WHAT WHY NO

The Adventures of Benjamin and Oliver

he is Not Good

ope-

wait so ben is equal parts an adult AND a child?? okay that clears a lot up

I MEAN HE WAS RIGHT THO BEN U CAN’T REALLY ARGUE ON THAT-

ew get off the floor

butterfly effect, multiverse theory, memory decay, and your imagination ALL exist yall gonna ignore that cause you wanna be famous?

“We already know what the future looks like!”

aRe yOu sUrE aBoUt tHaT-

to add to the list of bad things: Cats (2019)

YA BOI THINKS IT’S NOT ALREADY FIFTY YEARS TOO LATE TO START FIGHTING CLIMATE CHANGE FFFFF

BINGO BABYYYY

get what what

what mapped-

awwwww he thinks THEY’RE creating the multiverse

you gonna dismiss the multiverse theory bc of something you created in your current reality? loooserrrrrr

ABUSE YOUR GODLIKE POWERS

she draggin that seven year old

a lot makes sense now why didnt i do this first-

Jasper

the food shortages-

bro that calculators like 90 bucks at walmart

imagine meeting a stranger and they know Everything about your life like that’s gotta be so weird

what’s even weirder is them telling you you’re the deity of a cult that sacrifices animals

THAT FOURTH WALL BREAK WAS-

KARL JACOBS IS DEAD NOOOOOO

ooohhh there’s context for that

OOOOHHHH THERE’S CONTEXT FOR THIS TOOOO

w h a t -

W H A T -

Conclusion:

it’s 2 in the morning and i need sleep but hOOOOO MY GODS THAT WAS GOOD IS IT OVER OR NOT IDK ANYMORE IM TIRED THAT WAS CRAZY I HOPE QUINN AND JASPER GO ON TO BE VERY GOOD FRIENDS, AND I HOPE BENJAMIN AND OLIVER STAY VERY GOOD FRIENDS AND I HOPE HILLS FINDS A THERAPIST WAS A LITTLE CONFUSING BUT I ENJOYED IT

if i dream about apples im suing /j /lh

#lucids #nicholas podany #there's a metaphor in there somewhere #but im not gonna be the one to find it #i dont think i dreamed about apples #youre safe for now podany #for now #EDIT #I PUT 'something their not'#WRONG THERE #I HAVE NO EXCUSE #IM SORRY

37 notes · View notes

cynic-spirit · 3 years

Text

The Poem Series (9) Portrait of a Figure Near Water– John Wick

All the previous Parts here!

Two updates in one day !!!! Parts 8 and 9... tell me what you think!!!!

Diana had an emotional roller coaster of a week. At the start of the week she was filled with positivity, which changed into hope when she met John, that changed to love when she felt attracted to John, and then it changed into fury when John had forgot about her as if she did not exist. Her new week had started with a presentation on Jane Kenyon. Diana had always admired female authors and poets. She adored Jane Austen and Sylvia Plath. In fact her thesis was on a similar area. She saw a bit of herself in Kenyon who too admired nature. Her language for quieter, less self-dramatizing, much like Diana herself. After discussing most of her work and writing style to the class, she gave an assignment on one of her poems.

Diana had no other class today and her week had really exhausted her, emotionally. So she picked up her violin that she often carried with her in her car, and walked towards the small garden a little away from college to take a break. While walking she thought of Kenyon’s lines herself,

“Rebuked, she turned and ran

uphill to the barn. Anger, the inner

arsonist, held a match to her brain.

She observed her life: against her will

it survived the unwavering flame.”

The poet was talking about how after being rebuked she ran away to hide her anger, her embarrassment. There was a fire within her, whether it was anger or not, she does not know but now after the humiliation, the fire inside her had turned arsonist with a n intention to burn her. She had to embrace life ahead and not succumb to its flames. It often made Diana wonder how these poets were able to write such deep lines that expressed how she felt. It was magical. Literature was magical. For every mood, for every emotion, one could always find a line, a quote, a passage, that would just unveil the emotion she felt. Why didn’t people study literature, why didn’t they read poetry. The world has become so selfish, materialistic – both emotionally and physically. One befriends another person for competitive advantage, and one loves another for sex. For few moments John made her believe otherwise. John was intense, passionate, and the way he talked had made Diana feel that in this world full of greed, selfishness, loathing, death, and destruction, there is at least one man who is different, but then she was proven wrong. She let her guards down and John hurt her. He swayed her with his honeyed words and vanished like she never existed. He had made her doubt her sanity for she wondered if she was becoming so lonely that she had personified all her desires in the form of John; much like the woman in The Yellow Wallpaper.

Diana found a small park bench at a secluded corner in the park. It was away from the pebble path that people walked on and yet offered a view of the gigantic fountain at the middle of the park. It was evening time and there were fewer people than before. Diana started playing, a piece From Shubert, Ave Maria. It was a delicate tune and playing her brought some healing. The harmony induced serenity. The composition itself was created as a subtle message of sadness and regret. It conveys the message of “letting go” and making a promise to continue with life. Diana played the tune on her violin for a whole five minutes. When the tune ended she left out a sigh. She felt better. She felt calmer than before. She looked at her watch, it was nearly 7 pm and the park is about to close. She must go home. She packs up her violin in the case and as she is about to get up she sees a small black pitbull sitting in front of her holding a neatly wrapped bouquet in his jaw. Wait, she remembers this dog. This is John’s dog, Dog. She scratches, his ear and takes the bouquet from his mouth. The pitbull barks and runs away in a direction before she could grab him. Diana looks around but there is no one there.

She looks at the bouquet. There are different set of flowers this time. They are fastened by a green garland. Unlike the last time, there is only one of each flower. There is a Columbia, a Rue, an anemone, a rosemary, and a Forget me not. What is this bouquet trying to say, What are you trying to say John, lets see, she thought. The Columbine indicates foolishness, and rue defines regret. Rosemary is for remembrance, and anemone is for forsaken love. Finally, the forget me not says that one would not forget again. SO John is trying to say that he was foolish, and he wouldn’t do it again? He is asking for a chance for his love? Diana scoffs, and wonders, does John think I would be so gullible the second time? Diana wanted to throw away the bouquet but her love for flowers is more than the anger for John at the moment. She picks up the bouquet, her violin, and her bag and starts to walk towards the gate.

When John came back from Vladivostok the first thing that he wanted to do was to go running to Diana, hug her and tell her how sorry he was. How ashamed and sorry he felt of leaving her hanging. He had made promises to her. In his heart, he had failed her. This was a woman who had given him a chance without a drop of mistrust or dishonesty but he had let her down. This woman had gone beyond her comfort zone to meet and be with John. He wanted to make her feel like a goddess to be worshipped but he made her feel low, small, insignificant instead. He had made her doubt her sanity. She spoke only one line in the voice mail, but that line had so many meanings. She had found John, loving and even had strong feelings for him. John’s absence made her doubt that he was not real. No! he cannot have that. He must go and meet her, get to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Tell her that he faltered. He looks at the time. He realized that after being missing for one week he cannot just show up at 1 in the night at her doorstep. What would she think of him. No, he will meet her tomorrow at her college. She loved flowers, he will get her some flowers, beautiful ones. The flowers that would tell how sorry he is. On his bed, John pats Dog on his head, and murmurs, “She is angry with me boy. She is so angry with me”

John goes to his bed, but sleep eludes him. He spends the night tossing and turning, until he finally decides to go down to his basement and do some book binding to calm himself down. In Vladivostok, when John was searching for his target, he had found an antique shop. Unable to resist, he had gone in. He had talked to the owner and upon receiving the answer, John had smiled. From that place, he had brought a tattered, yellowish book whose pages were coming out. The print, however was exceptional. With little hard work, this book could be bound and made as good as new, well, as good as the oldest new he had thought. It would take him a couple of weeks to do it, and when he would finish the binding, he would gift it to Diana. Now, in his basement, on his desk, John stared at the first edition. The first edition of the book that had brought Diana to the small antique shop in his block and given him a chance to ask her out. John had the first edition of “The Little Prince” in his hand and he had started binding it, restoring it for his beloved.

The morning arrived and John got ready. He dressed up casually, in a white shirt, a brown leather jacket and blue jeans. John would meet Diana after her class, when she is leaving her college. Before that, he would get her some flowers, that would say how sorry he is for vanishing without contact the way he did. Taking Dog with him, John drives his Mustang to the flower shop.

The door opens with a “ding” as John enters. It grabs the attention of “Tiffany” as the badge says. Of course, she remembered John. She remembered John, and she secretly envied the woman John was with. His presence is enough to make Tiffany aroused. She opened the first two buttons of her uniform and walked towards him.

“Good Morning, May I help you sir?”

“Yes. I want a bouquet”

“Do you know what you want this time too sir?” Tiffany could not help but flirt with John who was less than impressed.

“Yes. Columbine, Rue, Anemone, Rosemary, and Forget me not. One of each flower wrapped by one single green garland”

“Aah, the apology bouquet, I wonder what woman would be so stupid to be upset with you, quite a fragile woman I must say” She said leaning a little bit, and touching his arm.

John had seen enough of the women trying to seduce him to bed and honestly, he didn’t care anymore. When this girl touched him, he felt a little violated. He felt that he was cheating on Diana. What does this girl think he is? That he is just some man who would be enticed by just about any girl when his love is angry with him? John straightened his posture more. Diana had ruined women for him. He was already on the edge and the incessant flirting of the flower shop girl and her obscene show of unladylike gesture was enough to make him mad. He was on the verge of losing the only woman he loved in his life and this girl here was not only causing him delay, but also judging his beloved as a stupid woman. John would not take this. If it were a man, he would be lying on the floor dead, but John does not hit women. He replies with his death stare

“She is someone who is not like you. She isn’t fragile like a flower, she is fragile like a grenade”

Tiffany was shocked and scared. She felt she would die on the spot. If looks were fire, John’s stare would have turned her into ashes and then some.

“I am sorry sir. I didn’t mean to … .Here is your requested bouquet”

“How much?”

“That will be 123 dollars sir”

After paying, John leaves the shop leaving a very scared and ashamed Tiffany behind.

John reached Diana’s college. It was big and crowded. It would be difficult to locate her here and he was not enjoying the attention he was getting from some of the female students. So he went to the help desk where a man probably in his late fifties sat.

“Can you tell me where I can find Diana Swan?”

“Who?”

“Diana Swan”

“Oh, You mean professor Swan?”

John nods.

“Her class finished early today. I think she left for home. But you can check at the garden outside the college. She often goes there to sit”

“thank you”

John now walks towards the garden, with Dog following closely. The garden was large and secluded. It was beautiful and peaceful, much like her taste, John thought. Of course, she would come here, this place speaks of her. Now where to find her in this large garden. John thinks. Diana would not sit in a place where she would be disturbed. She like peace, she likes quiet, but she also likes nature. So she would sit in a place where there is less disturbance but also offers a view of this large fountain. He must start looking from THAT corner, John thought. As he starts to walk towards a particular direction, a faint sound attracts his attention. It was the sound of music. Someone was playing the violin. Could it be…HER? Like a hypnotized man, John’s feet took him in the direction of the music. At a distance, he sees a woman, HIS woman, sitting on a bench, back towards him, playing a tune that he doesn’t know, but it makes him feel sad. The tune is so melancholic. His beloved, like the goddess Thalia had descended down on the earth and was playing the music.

John became nervous. Should he approach her now? Would she get angry on him? He does not have the courage to see the disappointment in her eyes. He cannot see her face full of hurt that he caused. He will test the waters first. So he leans down and makes Dog grab the bouquet. He pats him and says softly, “she wont get mad at you, you did not disappoint her. GO boy!!“

The pitbull, understanding his master’s commands takes the bouquet and goes towards his beloved while John watches from behind. He watches Diana take the bouquet from Dog after she finishes playing. She looks at each flower of the bouquet, carefully scrutinizing it, while John gulps in nervousness. Then she looks around to find no one. She gets up and starts to walk towards the gate where she is unaware that she would find John waiting for him.

As soon as Diana reached the gates of the park, she sees a face, a familiar face, the face that had nearly made her doubt her sanity. John Wick was standing on the gates of the park, looking at her with an expression, she did not understand. Was it guilt? Was it pity? Was it shame? Dog stood beside him wagging his tail looking at her. Diana loved dogs, and honestly, she had melted a little already with the innocent pitbull giving her the flowers, but she won’t let it show. She stared at John back, showing her displeasure, lets out a long steady breath, then turns around and starts walking towards the opposite gate of the park.

TWO UPDATES IN ONE DAY!!!!! ALSO ISN’T DOG ADORABLE !!!!!! LOOK AT THAT FACE!!!

@ficsnroses @meetmeinthematinee @overheardatthecontinental

#john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick x ofc #john wick x original character #john wick x original female character #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #baba yaga #boogeyman #the boogeyman #continental #the continental #keanu reeves #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves x y/n #keanu

26 notes · View notes

owlsbride · 3 years

Text

Icha Icha and Prejudice: The Book Club

Chapter IV: That Inner Voice

Eleven o'clock in the morning and Sakura was already upset. It was her first official vacation day, and it didn't start it as she had hoped. She had planned to sleep late, wake up in the most glorious and easy possible way with the felling of a long needy rested body. After all, she had to realise that Shizune and the Hokage were right, she needed to rest for a while, she was reaching the limits of her strength, and like this, she wasn't going to last long. So even if she was still a bit mad about the resolution, she finally came to terms with it, and it was ok.

What she has not been able to imagine was that after her furious outburst in the Hokage Tower, yesterday night, she would find herself immersed in a crazy game that Kakashi planned in less than a minute just to annoy her, disturb her, and of course, tease her. Dammed, he was smart. God, she hated that man.

'Yeah, tell yourself that till you believe it.'

Suddenly, she repeated Kakashi's recent message in her mind with a highly pitchy tone. It was not her sensei's voice, though.

'Hello there, Sakura.'

So she was back. After years of silence, her bitchy inner Sakura's voice came back to torment her mind and life. She turned on the bed, sinking her head in the pillow ready to grumble, and silent a scream of fury trying to escape from her frustrating throat. Perfect timing for the remarkable comeback. Perfect timing.

After her teen years, Sakura, under the Godaime tutelage, decided that inner Sakura was no longer necessary. She was pretty capable of analysing all the facts in front of her as well as her feelings, thoughts and attitudes, she no longer needed her alter ego to push her to act in this or that way, nor to show her the right path when she was lost. Generally, the correct direction of the inner Sakura was always the wrong one, but that she had only been able to see it after her failed attempt of relationship with Sasuke or any other man in the village.

The inner Sakura was impulsive, arrogant, prejudiced, and without a doubt much more daring than Sakura herself, and that did not suit her.

So, one morning, and just like that, the work, stress and the effort to make her inner voice disappeared went straight to the trash been, cause she was loudly back.

'Don't tell me that you didn't miss me.' the voice in her head said almost sad.

"No, I didn't. Not even a tiny bit." Great, now Sakura was talking to herself out loud.

'You are harsh with both of us, Sakura'

"No, I'm not. I worked hard for you to shut up, so, please..." Sakura pleaded.

'And yet, here I am.'

"What do you want?"

'The question is, what Do You want' annoying or not, inner Sakura's question was accurate and sharp. What was what she wanted?

"Arghh... fine! If you are here to stay, I hope, at least, for you to be useful."

'I'm all yours. Now get up, girl, we have things to do.'

Sakura finally accepted that the voice was back and resolved to went through everything with her in her mind. She didn't have much of an option, cause apparently, inner Sakura was not going to disappear any time soon. It was better to have a good relationship with her mind at this moment. Three weeks off was too much to think on her own. Maybe she had called her back. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism to go through her own personal hell with Icha Icha. Inner Sakura could be much more helpful with her sharp, bold thoughts. She was a natural teaser and a skilful trickster at times. She was the not so innocent part of her mind that incited thoughts that Sakura preferred to suppress. The inner Sakura's silence was what had allowed her not to have sex in all this time, putting all her libido in her work, making her see each man who passed by the hospital as an object of study and not as a possible good laid. Except maybe for Kakashi.

Hatake Kakashi, the Rokudaime, her Lord Sixth, her eternal sensei. The very same, that when he got sick or came back injured from a mission, he just wanted to be cared for by her. The one used to listen to her ramblings every day about new ideas, supporting all her projects. The one that one way or another was always by her side. Kakashi, the man with silver hair who aroused the entire village's curiosity and sighs even though no one, not even her, knew what was under the mask. The same man who could be severe enough to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, but who also read Icha Icha in public and even dared to flirt with her without shame or openness.

'You're so into him.' Inner Sakura spoke again suppressing a laugh.

"Oh please, It's not like that." Sakura dismissed her.

'How long are you going to live in denial, Sakura?'

"What do you mean?"

'Can't you see it for your own?'

"No..."

'Thank god I'm here then.'

Sakura stopped the conversation with her inner self because she really needed a cup o coffee first. She had spent the first hours of her morning texting with Kakashi and talking to herself, and it was already exhausting. How was she supposed to survive both of them? Passing by her living room to the kitchen, Sakura directed her view to the orange book on the table. Sooner or later, she would have to start reading. But first thing first: Breakfast.

After almost half an hour, Sakura finally was ready to face her destiny and her thoughts.

'Are you ready?' Inner Sakura was jumping all over her mind like a child in a kermesse.

"I guess..." Sakura answered nervously sitting in her couch, crouching her legs and taking the book in her hands.

'Imagine the things he had done with that book' Her mind was torturous libidinous.

"Let's just don't think about it, ok?"

'Oh, come on, don't act as if you were a virgin Sakura... Just imagine, the shower, the couch, the bed...'

"Please, don't be grossed" Sakura answered blushing deeply. Something burning was forming inside of her, and she was sure it wasn't just her chakra.

'You slut, you have already thought about that. You are so hot with him.' Inner Sakura was celebrating.

"Shut up."

Chapter I: The sunset. The light was slowly extinguishing on the cornfields making the shadows that were projected throughout the space even more orange. The summer rain's soft scent had left a persistent sweet aroma mixed with the lavenders that were only a few meters from where she was standing. The heat and humidity created a soft layer of sweat on her body, mixing her own body scent with that of her surroundings. She knew that she must have run away as soon as she saw him arriving at the village. Instead, she only could make it to the cornfield, a familiar place for both of them.

So cliche, Sakura thought with a grin on her face. She was sure that Kakashi was having it way harder than her. Though she had to recognise that even if Jiraiya didn't have Jane Austen's prose, it wasn't that bad. So far, it was an easy, perfectly innocent reading.

'Really Sakura? is that what you are thinking? A neat prose?' Inner Sakura jumped in her mind again a bit upset because up to now Sakura wasn't able to find nothing too thrilling in the first pages. Sakura didn't pay her any attention and kept reading, she was starting to relax about this whole thing of Kakashi's little obsession. It wasn't that bad.

He followed her without hesitation. He knew he would find her staring at the horizon, waiting for the night breeze to cool her feverish skin. She had always liked to feel the summer wind run across her ivory skin, bristling the hair on her arms, making her shiver. Her tousled hair floating freely, like her thoughts. He knew he would find her there, and right there, he would claim her just for himself.

Sakura sighed, the things were already starting to heat up but in a really smooth and slow path. The Sannin knew how to build tension and, what she heard Ino said once, a good slow-burn romance scenario. Inner Sakura was in silence, and she was immensely enjoying the reading. Actually, she was starting to think that she could spend the entire day at home reading. After all, it wasn't that hard.

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

Sakura looked for her cellphone. Inner Sakura was already starting to complain about the interruption, but she suddenly stopped.

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:30 H.Kakashi: Yo!

18:30 H.Kakashi: What are you doing, Sakura?

Sakura didn't know if to answer and play difficult, Inner Sakura was highly excited about those short, silly messages. Of course, Sakura answered, she had to follow the inner lead.

18:32: Hello, Sensei

18:32: Reading, you?

Sakura didn't come back to the book. She just fixed her stare in the device in her hand.

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:35: H.Kakashi: And?

Kakashi wasn't going to answer her, she was sure. She would have to give him something first. She knew her sensei like the palm of her hand.

18:36: It's ok so far

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:36 H.Kakashi: What?

18:36 H.Kakashi: Just ok?

18:37 H.Kakashi: Do you even know how to read, Sakura?

Sakura burst to laugh out loud in her home alone. He was such a spoiled child.

18:40: Yes Hokage Sama, it's ok, I haven't read much yet.

18:40: What about you? Working? Reading?

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:41 H.Kakashi: Actually, both.

18:41: And?

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:42 H.Kakashi: Work, awful, reading, quite interesting.

18:42 H.Kakashi: Tell me, Sakura, is it possible?

Sakura asked herself what was he talking about, Inner Sakura, invited to re questioned him.

18:45: What?

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:46 H.Kakashi: To have five daughters and take care of all of them, in a simple civilian life, plus a wife and listen to them all the time talking without a stop

Sakura laughed again.

18:47: So... You are feeling bad for the poor Mr Benett, right?

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:47 H.Kakashi: Who wouldn't...

18:48 H. Kakashi: Listen Sakura...

And for a moment he didn't say anything more.

18:55: What now?

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

18:55 H.Kakashi: Would you like to have dinner? Unless you already have plans. We don't need to talk about the books, in fact, we don't have to talk at all

Sakura stood frozen. What was wrong with him. Even if it was just a simple text, she could read need in his words.

'Don't you dare to say no' Inner Sakura adverted, forming a fist with her imaginary hand.

19:00: Rough day?

Bzzzzzt Bzzzzt Bzzzzt

19:00 H. Kakashi: You can't imagine.

Sakura smiled.

19:01: Then you'll have to tell me.

22 notes · View notes

pathofcomet · 4 years

Text

types of kisses (6)

fandom: ikemen vampire

pairing: isaac/MC

summary: Wild, breathless kisses brought on by a heartfelt gift. (AO3)

Whenever she comes up with his meal, she sits on the side of his bed, watching him. She sometimes asks about his projects, and she laughs in that adorable, embarrassed way of hers when she mentions she studied English literature in her time. And yet, without fail, whenever she notices he has moved on to another writing, to a new piece, she asks about it.

Isaac sits at his desk, munching on his sandwich (her sandwich) and pays her back for the gesture; listens to her talk about a time that she left behind, but that it’s still a long way in the future. And although his heart strains for it, there’s not even the smallest hint of longing in her words. She speaks evenly, and ends her sentences with a quick look in his way, as to reassure him that she’s here, and it’s a decision that she makes over and over again, every day.

They grow around this habit. He tells her of his time with Napoleon and the kids, and how the two of them, historical figures in such separate places and times, became such good friends in the first place. She tells him of books that are yet to be written, of genres just recently invented – and their flourishing as decades pass. She tells him of education, how more people than ever can access it – and she pretends she doesn’t see the way his eyes glimmer.

She tells him people walked on the moon. That’s where he draws the line, gently ushering her away so he can focus on his works, and she laughs at him, it’s true! For a long time, he just holds his pen in the air, staring at his papers, unable to focus on something else but the memory of her laughter, her smile as she spoke of things she used to love.

He imagines there are many things she used to love and she can’t have here and now. Things that simply are not that circulated, not yet invented. Despite it, she never complains. Not to him, anyway.

He sends out several notes in the city. Replies come back, but not many are what he wants to hear. He goes out to Paris himself, discusses with various individuals. He leaves her sleeping in his bed early in the morning, so she doesn’t have time to question him – he’s not sure he knows how to lie to her.

Eventually, a package arrives at university, addressed to him. He sighs in relief, clutches it closer to him, nervous and excited at the same time. He wants to see her, desperately, right now – and it takes all his power to still himself on the spot. He knows that, no matter out, at the end of the day, she’ll be waiting for him.

But he spends the next couple of hours allowing his mouth to rattle off about subjects he not only knows, but invented, while his brain is just conjuring, over and over again, the many ways in which he thinks she might react.

He stumbles only twice on his way up the stairs, and almost bumps into Sebastian, in his haste, who instead just greets him, with the slightest teasing edge in his voice. Isaac doesn’t exactly have it in him at the moment to politely tell him to fuck off.

He finds her in her room, where she’s snuggled in a chair, under a blanket and tries her best to embroider something. It’s a hobby that Arthur suggested as a joke, but then she went into the city the next day with Sebastian, picking all the things she needed. She’s concentrating, hard, eyebrows furrowed. She didn’t even hear the door opening, just the dull, closing sound of it.

She turns around, beaming, knowing without fail that it can be no one else but him. No one else enters her room unannounced nowadays, for too many times it has been occupied by one more than just her. She opens her arms to him; he gets down on his knees, so he can put his arms around her waist, breathe in her scent at the crook of her neck. She sighs in his hair, welcoming him back home.

He moves, settling down on the arm of her armchair, his hand around her shoulder. With his other hand, he pushes the wrapped present in her lap. She turns her gaze to him, fast.

“What is this?”

Isaac’s eyebrows raise, humoured. “Open it and see.”

She’s awfully careful with it, pulling at the ribbon slowly, removing it only to neatly place it on her desk, next to her embroidery. He’s hanging now to every one of her reactions, as the paper falls to the floor, revealing the book he has struggled for weeks to find.

She traces the name, printed in gold, over and over again with her finger.

“You d-don’t have to like it… But you’ve been mentioning it… and I thought that you m-”

The book falls to the floor, a first edition of Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. Instead, she’s grabbing at his clothes, pulling him close, kissing him – over his chin and on the tip of his nose, missing her purpose in her frenzy, mumbling thanks in-between each kiss, and he’s holding her as she’s melting with each touch of her lips on him.

“Thank you,” she says, properly this time, as she shifts to pick up her present, dusting off the cover, hugging it close to her chest. She has tears on each of her cheeks, which he kisses away.

That night, both in her bed, she opens her new book. He closes his, shifts closer to her, resting his head under her arm, ear right above her heartbeat.

“Read to me?” he asks, eyes closing against her tender touch in his hair.

“The family of Dashwood had long been settled in Sussex…” she starts.

Her voice is soothing, but she’s pausing at each punctuation mark, changing her voice just slightly when reading the dialogues, and soon he finds himself entirely enraptured in the story that he knows is one of her favourites. It becomes soon a tradition, and by the end, heck, it sounds just a tiny bit familiar to what they’ve been through.

Sometimes I have kept my feelings to myself, because I could find no language to describe them in.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp isaac #isaac x reader #isaac x mc #ikevamp #ikevamp fic #50 kisses isaac #my writing

51 notes · View notes

silenceofthecookies · 3 years

Text

One piece matchup - lirulee

Giveaway prize for @lirulee

I’m a 30 y/o woman and I'm interested in men, I'm an ENFJ and a Taurus. I’m short and curvy, with long dark blond hair and green/blue eyes, and lots of freckles. I have a cute/sweet appearance, so i always try to dress more in an elegant/formal way, with darker colors to appear more mature. I’m also a bit insecure about my weight and my smile. I’m honest, stubborn, determined and I always find humor and funny sides to everything. I’m an optimist, everything works out eventually, and I always try to find the good sides of every outcome. I’m very passionate about the things I like, and I’m usually cheerful. I love dad jokes, puns and absurd humor, but I also love cynical and sarcasm. I’m a bit shy at first, but i’m very talkative and i love to get to know more of the people around me. I always try to help those around me (I have to set boundaries for myself here). I’m kind and I care a lot, but I'm also a bit snobbish and very rational. I’m constantly working on improving myself. I’m a control freak and a worrier tho, so even if I’m cool and I know that everything will work out in the end, I stress a lot about it. (Yeah, idk, I’m like this 🤣). I can be a bit moody and also get melancholic easily. I know myself enough to know how to get out of these states or just get through them, but sometimes I can be a bit difficult. I also have quite a temper, but I’ve learned how to chillax enough to not cut someone’s throat. I love videogames and boardgames/dnd, and ¿do I use my cuteness to win if someone is foolish enough to fall for it? Yes. I don’t usually do it tho, cos i like winning honorably, but if someone is falling for it, it’s their own fault, i haven’t tricked anyone 😈 (that’s what i tell myself... am i more competitive than honorable? Probably). I’m also very into witchy stuff, like tarot, candles, etc. I’m not super methodical tho. I also love fashion and I'm learning to sew. I’m a bit of a scaredy cat, I have some fears, like spiders and heights, and then random things that suddenly scare me, mostly cos I don’t have a sense of control with them or stuff like that. I can’t watch horror movies at all, I have a very strong and vivid imagination and that’d mean I wouldn’t be able to sleep, even if I’m very invested in the psychological side of horror and that tempts me a lot. I like to study people’s motives and personalities. I studied psychology not only to help people, but to understand how they work too. I find it easy to read people and their motives, and know how they’ll probably act. But I can also be very literal and naïve sometimes, it depends a lot on the context. I love reading noir and fantasy novels, I’m a huge nerd of Harry Potter and LOTR, and watching true crimes. I also love romantic novels, and I’m a huge fan of Jane Austen’s. I love doing anything that’s artsy/crafty, I love painting and feeling that I’m creating something (the “I did this” feeling 🙃). My biggest passion and love is music, tho. I’m learning to play the guitar, the piano and to sing, and my goal is to be a music-therapist. I could talk about it for hours, honestly. I’m always singing songs, sometimes very random and funny songs, or even xmas songs in august. My whole life is surrounded by music

I match you with...

Benn and you are like a balance. Wherever one of the two is weaker, the other is stronger. In the beginning Benn will initiate contact and lead the conversation but once you are at ease around him, he will gladly sit back and let you lead the conversation, if not just let you talk about whatever and listen to you. He also loves the elegance and maturity of your style.

Once Benn knows you, he’ll be able to deal with whatever mood you’re in. You’re moody? He won’t take it personally. You’re feeling insecure? He’ll know just what to say or do to make you feel better, or at least to get you to focus on something else. He also greatly respects that you’re aware of your own weaknesses or bad points, and that you’re trying to improve on them. If there’s any way he can help, you need only say the word and he’ll do whatever he can.

Benn is also not afraid to let you have control over things. This can go from little things, like holding on to certain things, to big things, like the relationship. He knows it’ll make you worry just that little less. Just like you, Benn is also optimistic and will always look for the good in every situation.

Despite his laid-back attitude, you and Benn can definitely have some fun! Benn is a master of dad jokes, as well as sarcasm, so there’s no problem in the laughing department. When it comes to music, Benn enjoys most genres. He loves listening to you play or sing. It doesn’t matter if you’re still learning, Benn will gladly listen in and comment on how much you’ve improved every now and again. He doesn’t mind the weird or funny songs either, he’s used to worse antics than a Christmas song in August. If he’s in the mood, Benn will gladly sing along with you while you’re playing the piano.

When it comes to boardgames, Benn is down to play with you as well. Traditional boardgames are totally fine with him and if you let him know you’d like him to join you, you could even convince him to join you on a D&D adventure. He’ll just play whatever is needed for the party, though he’ll create a character pretty close to his own character so he doesn’t have to roleplay too much, since that’s not really his thing.

Now. True crime. Benn loves the stuff just as much as you do. He thinks it’s fascinating to see what people can do, though it’s also a bit sad. He’ll gladly join in on your psychoanalyses. He’s no expert on it, but he enjoys giving his two cents and listening to you build on that.

To top is all off, Benn has a very calming quality. Whenever you’re scared, no matter what it’s from, he’ll talk you through it and he’ll never make fun of you for it, even if he isn’t afraid of much himself.

#matchmaker cookie #benn beckman #lirulee #one piece matchup #cookie writes #matchup #400 followers event #scheduled post

10 notes · View notes