#Cloud Computing Assignment Help
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assignment-expert-in-usa · 2 years ago
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Cloud computing has revolutionized the way organizations manage and store data, enabling scalable, cost-effective, and efficient solutions for businesses of all sizes. However, navigating the complexities of cloud computing assignments can be challenging. Cloud computing assignments typically involve various cloud service models, deployment models, security considerations, and the integration of cloud technologies. This is where cloud computing assignment help comes into play.
Cloud computing assignment help is a valuable resource for students seeking to understand and excel in this dynamic field
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assignmenthelpbyexpert · 2 years ago
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Advantages And Disadvantages Of Cloud Computing
Find the adavantages & disadvantages Of Cloud Computing through this infographic. You can also take cloud computing assignment help at Myassignmenthelp.com.
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bedcchem · 7 months ago
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no thoughts, just iwaizumi fucking you against your desk—you’re lying on top of your mounds of homework for uni, some papers crumpling from the movement, your computer in sleep mode from lack of use. your shorts and underwear decorate your ankle on the floor while your other leg is propped up on the chair, giving him that perfect angle to hit that sweet little spot that has you seeing stars and creaming all on him.
his hands grip your hips in a deliciously bruising hold as he fucks the stress out of you, whispering in your ear how you’re his smart girl who just works too damn hard. his smart girl who loves to go absolutely dumb from his fucking cock.
and when his smart girl is stressed… of course he’s gonna make you feel better.
“hajime—” your voice more of a breathy whine than a moan, “—fuck fuck—s’good, soo—ohh good.”
“yeah?” iwaizumi grabs a fistful of hair and pulls your head back to look at him. your eyes are glazed over in a beautiful, heady daze, reserved only for him. “am i fucking my princess dumb? can’t think about anything else?”
drool trickles down your chin as you babble out words you can barely articulate. “only you—fuck— oh my god… haji, ’m gonna—“
his hand comes down to your puffy little clit and rubs it just right for you to turn into a loud, whimpering mess. “c’mon—come for me, princess,” he groans, fucking you through it. he feels you clench around him, paired with a strangled, “‘m gonna make a mess! hajime!” before you finish—white clouding your vision. he groans as he nears his own finish, making sure you were finished with your own high before pulling out and jerking himself to come all over the swell of your ass.
and it’s been proven that every time he helps relieve your stress, you lock in and finish all your required assignments and get ahead on more. which, in turn, just means iwaizumi gets to tell you just how wonderful and smart his pretty girl is…
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a/n: moving accounts ˋ°•*⁀➷ @oxytxn
enjoy my masterlist!
mdni. do not copy, alter, or repost my work. ©bedcchem 2024.
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kayleigh-83 · 7 months ago
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Hobbies and sub-hobbies
I've been working on implementing a sub-hobby system in my game recently and really enjoying it! I took a look at the different activities available for different hobbies and came up with my list, which I thought I'd share here.
I do have some mods that change the hobby enthusiasm of some objects, or add new ones - I'll link where applicable.
I don't assign these based on any system, just vibes. I usually stick with whatever hobby the game assigns, but I do sometimes change them if it really feels like it doesn't fit to me. The sub-hobbies are intended to be a main focus, but Sims can and will still try other aspects of their overall hobby, and other hobbies altogether sometimes too!
The list is a work in progress but I'm basically happy with it now.
Edit: I found a version of the punching bag that gives fitness enthusiasm instead of sports, and that activity makes more sense to me as a fitness thing, so I moved that sub-hobby over.
Edit 2: Combined a couple gaming subhobbies into "Social Games" and added MyShuno to that category.
Edit 3: Combined sewing and knitting into Fibre Arts under Arts & Crafts hobbies.
Edit 4: Added candlemaking to the Arts & Crafts category.
Cuisine
Cooking
Baking
Wine & Cocktails
Foodie (restaurants, delivery)
Films & Literature
Reading
Writing (helpful but not necessary to also have this mod)
Movies
Tinkering
Restoring & Repairing (restorable car, general repairs, plus drafting blueprints thanks to a mod)
Woodworking (here and here)
Tinker Toys (RC cars, model trains, toy workbench)
Sports
Soccer
Basketball
Sports Fan (watching sports)
Golf (Execuputter reward object made buyable)
Baseball
Football
Music & Dance
Dancing
Ballet
Piano/Keyboard
Synthesizer
Violin
Singing
Guitar
Bass
Drums
Fitness
Swimming
Lifting & Cardio
Yoga
Boxing (with modded hanging bag from here - unlocked buyable punching bag still gives sports hobby, but it seems more like a fitness thing to me as a solo activity)
Arts & Crafts
Painting
Pottery
Photography (hugely aided by the buyable antique camera and Epi and PF's camera overhaul mod)
Fibre Arts (sewing, knitting with Eisbaer's edit of TonyVeis' 4t2 mod)
Candlemaking
Science
Stargazing/Aliens
Biotech (buyable Biotech station and microscopes with science enthusiasm added)
Robotics (this mod makes robotics science related which makes far more sense to me)
Games
Video Games (console, handheld, computer, arcade games)
Board Games (chess, Don't Wake the Llama, mahjong)
Social Games (darts, poker, pool, bowling, MyShuno)
Nature
Entomology (hunting bugs, catching fireflies and butterflies)
Animals (small pets like womrats, birds, koi fish, bird watching)
Gardening (harvestable crops, orchard trees - I play with perfect plants mod so they don't have to maintain flowers and shrubs)
Outdoorsy (fishing, hiking, camping, cloud watching)
Flower Arranging (this mod changes the enthusiasm on the flower bench to nature)
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leyavo · 2 months ago
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| I am my father’s daughter |
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💖 Dad!Price x Daughter!reader, eventual Soap x reader
PART FIVE: John Price hasn’t seen or heard from his daughter in over a year, but that changes when she calls him one night asking for help. 2,908words
TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/ complicated father-daughter relationship
Previous parts > [Series Masterlist]
🔈Reader’s view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate
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The whirring heater on John's desk blew a cloud of dust in his face as he flicked it on. He didn't know when it had last been used, the halogen bulb glowing orange, blinding him. The small cubicle office they'd assigned him looked like it hadn't been touched in over a decade. Thankfully it had been dusted, a little musty, nothing a cracked window couldn't solve.
The autumn weather dropped considerably the past week and John still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that you didn't have a proper coat. His fleece lined and cord jacket weighing you down, but you wore it with no complaints. He tried to search your bag, but you interrupted him before he could figure out what size in clothes you were. Every one needed a thick coat for the autumn, winter. A staple in the wardrobe, something to pull out every year.
Now that he thought about it, you didn't complain about much. Definitely nothing like your mother, she enjoyed picking fights with him over anything and everything. Not that he'd compare you much, you're your own person. You’re an adult now and he’s starting to feel like he isn't needed, but that’s when parents are needed most, right?
Doesn’t matter how old you are, he wants to help.
A knock sounded on the other side of the door, the person however didn't wait for a response to enter. Kyle walked in, dropping to the seat opposite the captain. He winced, shifting in the hard plastic chair trying to get comfy.
"Little early for our meeting later," John grumbled, gaze flitting to the clock on his computer screen. He picked up the chipped mug and sipped the warm coffee.
"Well, Toff passed Si on her way in and gave him a bag of interview clothes. He's been roped into being a fashion advisor," Kyle chuckled, finger prodding Price's name plate back into the centre of the desk.
John eyed the clock again, two hours till your interview and five till the meeting with Laswell. “And you left him?” John’s brow raised, smile tugging his lips.
That John had to see, he logged out of the computer and rose from his seat, tugging the fleece draped over the armrest. He’d woke a few hours earlier to clear some of his work and have the hour to take you to your interview. You were going to take the bus, which took a lot of convincing for you to give in and let him drive you. There was no way he'd leave you waiting around.
“Maybe you should ask him for some pointers too,” Kyle said, dodging the stress ball flying at his head. "Still at the res' house before Laswell's?" He called over his shoulder, chair tipping onto its back legs as he tried to catch John's gaze.
"Yep, don't be late," John snapped, pushing the back of Kyle's head and setting the chair back on the floor with him. "You boys got everything."
"All set Cap."
Nodding, John shrugged on his fleece and readjusted the knitted fisherman's hat under his hood. The rain lashing against the windows didn't deter him as he pushed the emergency doors open. A group of sergeants acknowledged him, but he didn't stop to chat like he usually would. He flashed his military pass at the gate, squeezing through the gap instead of waiting for it to slide open and allow him entry.
The cluster of houses all the same, red brick exterior and dark wood doors. Thick blocked pavement slippery under his boots, he rushed down the pathway and unlocked the front door. Your voice echoed through to the porch, soft and light as you asked questions.
John inched round the corner, hanging back to take in the moment. You were holding up two belts in your hands and asking Simon which one would be better. Simon's head tilted up at the ceiling, his arm hung off the back of the sofa. You might as well have been talking to the void. He was surprised Simon was still there.
"Never mind, the black is the probably the safest. You're not very good at this," you muttered to yourself, too focused on pulling the belt through the loops of your suit trousers. "I should tuck my shirt in, right?" You glanced to Simon, shaking your head as you realised he wouldn't give you any input.
"Tucked in, Kiddo," John said, sitting on the edge of the arm of the sofa. The bag of clothes that Toff had given you were more than enough, four different suit bags filled with matching pieces. You'd chosen the simplest one, navy straight leg trousers and a crisp blue shirt. A blue pin striped blazer slung on the coffee table. He'd have to thank Toff later.
Simon muttered a thank fuck under his breath, his gaze sliding to John's. He stood from the sofa, walking to the kitchen and flicking the kettle on.
John turned back to you. You buttoned up the blazer, only to undo it and throw a satchel over your shoulder. Something Toff said you could keep, the worn leather had seen her through university and she hoped it'd hold out for you too.
"Ready," you said, standing in front him. You glanced at the watch on your wrist, "takes like, twelve minutes to drive there."
The loafers on your feet are shiny, Prada badge telling him that those too were borrowed from Toff. Maybe he'd be able to take you shopping for a few bits, if and when you got the job. Or just give you his credit card and you order it all.
"Thanks Simon," you said as you passed him on the way out, he raised his cup of tea to you and retreated to his bedroom.
John couldn't get over how grown up you looked, he kept glancing at you and you raised a brow at him, as if you thought he was judging your attire. "Come on, let's get a move on," he said, unlocking the trucks door and opening it for you.
You shifted in your seat, smoothing out the creases in your trousers and pulled the seatbelt, clipping it at your side. The satchel on your shoulder rested on your lap, fingers playing with the buckles on the front.
The truck started on the third turn of the key, the colder weather making the engine stutter, but it always started. Your grip on your bag loosened and your eyes flitted to each road sign and street John drove by.
The passenger window rolled down, glass panel screeching as you turned your face towards the rush of wind entering the truck. Your leg bounced up and down, lips moving silently as if you’re practicing a script for the interview.
“You’ll be alright kiddo. A firm handshake and clear speech, all you need.”
Exhaling, you draped your arm out of the open window. "Can we not," You mumbled, hand pushing against the cool breeze. "I don't wanna talk."
He didn't take it to heart, you were always a quiet kid. John would have to sit in silence till you were ready to speak. A little hand holding onto his pointer finger, head leant against his arm as if you didn't want him to leave again. Each time he came back from an op, it was like you knew he needed grounding and the weight of your touch reminded him that he was a father. Sometimes you'd sit beside the couch by his boots and watch tv with him until you warmed up to him again and climbed into his lap.
Never allowed in their bed because of his nightmares, no you self soothed probably as you never knocked on your parents door. The only time you sobbed into his chest was when he had to return to work, his sleeve twisted in your grasp as he tried to climb into his truck. He tried not look in the mirror as he drove away, didn't want to see you still watching him disappear for who knows how long.
Your mother used to make him stay at the base till his wounds had healed, blaming him for scaring you the one time he came home battered and bruised. John hadn't shown up like that ever since, afraid to cause you any harm.
In some ways he can still see that little girl. Hesitant to reach out, as if you're trying to figure out the kind of man he is now. John doesn't blame you for it, not after he picked you up that night. Not after he found out the type of guy you'd been living with. The thought alone is enough to anger him, but he shoves it down. That's the last thing you need, rage and violence.
John parked in the nearest space, cutting the engine and flinging his seatbelt off. "Good luck, Kiddo."
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Forty, fucking minutes you were in the building. You jabbed the down button and waited for the lift. The thumping in your head chipped away, eyes squinting as the metal doors opened and your vision flooded with the harsh florescent lights of the lift. You'd spent the last fifteen minutes staring at a computer screen and filling out test spreadsheets and doing bloody maths.
The lady that interviewed you looked like military. Her hair scraped back so tight it gave her facelift, the pant suit she wore tailored to the curves of her body and clung to the defined muscles of her biceps and calves. You found yourself calling her Ma'am, sitting up straight in your seat and looking her in the eye.
You stared out at the carpark, hoping that you'd be using it soon. The wound on your back burnt, your hand patting the area as you tried to stop the itching sensation rubbing against the scab. You shrugged off the pin stripe blazer and draped it over your arm, the cool cotton shirt light against your shoulder blades. The less weight on you the better.
The mirror beside you highlighted every flaw, the yellow lighting drew out the scar above your brow. Deep rims under your eyes as if they'd been carved there and would never go away. You pressed your finger to the spot, nose scrunching up at your reflection. You tried not to look too long, never were one to look in the mirror.
Another reminder of everything. Another mark to remind you.
Stepping out of the lift you're met with the same receptionist, her head nodding and smile pulling her lips. You handed over your guest I.D and signed your name out, waiting for the security guard to buzz you out.
The cold hits you, but you don't bother slipping on your blazer. The drop of temperature soothing your aching body. You preferred the cold, always easier to make yourself warmer. Walking around the side of the building, you had to do a double take. Your dad's brown truck still parked at the side of the road.
You slowly walked to the truck, the captain too engrossed in the newspaper spread across the steering wheel. A take away coffee cup in one hand and a croissant in the other. As you crept closer you could see the flakey crumbs in his moustache, the sports radio a dull hum of presenters talking about some football league. His window rolled half down, he probably smoked whilst he was waiting for you.
"You're still here," You blurted out, "I mean don't you have work or something to do?"
The Captain didn't even flinch, he folded the newspaper and stuffed the half eaten croissant back into the paper bag, dropping it into the centre console. He leant over to unlock the passenger door, pushing it open as you rounded the truck.
"Don't you worry about that, Kiddo," he said, waving his hand in the air and sipping his coffee quickly before placing it back in the cupholder. "Coffee and a pastry there for ya." He dabbed his face with the scratchy tissue, crumbs falling into the newspaper which he tucked into the side of the door.
The interior reeked of tobacco, another pine tree air freshener dangling from the rearview mirror. As if that would make a difference when the Captain smoked like a chimney. There's still an underlying smell of old spice, the same old aftershave that you used to mix in the sink when he was still living with you and your mum.
"Uh, thanks." You're still getting used to the small stuff, the little things your dad gives you without you even asking. You pick up the paper cup and lift the lid, a sweet aroma escaping with it.
The car stuttered to a start, indicator ticking away. The Captain glanced to you, "caramel, you still like that?" He says it like you change your mind weekly, but who are you to turn down a free coffee? Or whatever pastry he's just dumped into your lap.
You don't even know the last time someone had bought you something. It's been ages since you've had the money to buy yourself a coffee let alone be given one.
"Yeah, I still like caramel." Of course you do, he used to bring you caramel chocolates every time he visited when you were a kid, the only reason you liked it so much. It's not till now that you realise it.
The car ride back to base is silent, thankfully the Captain's figured out you aren't one for small talk. Nothing but the football stats blaring through the speakers, the tick of the indicator with each turn. You can't wait to change out of the formal clothes and hide out in your dad's room until the house is empty whilst they're at their meeting.
The Captain swore under his breath as his sacred team's dropped down the league table, finger switching the radio to some classic rock station. You bit your lip trying to muffle the laughter, but his gaze swept to yours, hand squeezing your knee. Another thing he used to do to you as a kid, a yelp leaving your lips. You rubbed the spot, swatting his hand away as he tried to go for another.
You don't wait for the truck to roll to a stop, flinging the door open and slamming it behind you. The Captain calling after you, muffled voice telling you not to slam the bloody door. You're not too bothered though, the safety of the front door in your reach, but it's snatched away as you set foot in the porch.
The guys are all huddled in the kitchen, Simon stirring something in the pot over the cooker. Kyle setting the table and Johnny's leaning against the counter tasting what ever's on the spoon. So much for eating in the canteen.
A hand landed on your shoulder, "Why don't you get changed and we'll have some dinner. The boys made stew," the Captain said, giving you a light push towards his room.
You nod, not quite sure why they're all having dinner so early, but you don't question it. Their laughter and voices echoed down the hallway, Simon asking Johnny to speak English another round of laughter erupting. You shred the suit and chuck on some comfy clothes, slipping back out.
Just like everything else, they move in sync with each other. Like a family would, well that's what you've seen in movies. You sink into the chair beside the Captain, staring at the placemat and cutlery set in front of you. Everything mismatched, the weight of the knife and fork different.
The guys took their seats at the table, Kyle stood over the casserole dish in the middle with a ladle in hand. "Anything you don't like?" Kyle said, ladle paused above your bowl before he adds all of the food to it.
You shook your head, "I'm not fussy." It was food at the end of the day, you weren't going to turn down a warm home cooked meal. Soft beef, carrots, potato and dumplings swimming around the casserole dish. Kyle served up three spoonfuls and placed your bowl in front of you.
Apparently Kyle's the designated person when it comes to dishing up equal proportions, but he gave you extra according to Johnny. Another reason they go to the canteen on base, so they can help themselves to food and not worry about sharing. That and the convenience of going whenever they've got the time.
"So how'd it go?" Johnny asked between bites, he sucked in a breath trying to counter the heat of the food in his mouth. His spoon already digging for the next load.
"I think it went well, won't hear back for a couple days," you replied, pushing the dumplings around in the stew.
Simon's elbow knocked into your arm, your spoon clanging back into your stew. You're squeezed between him and your dad, both of them invading your space. He doesn't say anything, just dropped a dumpling into your bowl instead of an apology. pointing his fork as if to tell you eat up.
“I’m sure you’ll get it,” Johnny said, scraping the last bits of his food off his bowl. “How about you help me clean this up?”
You nodded piling up all the stuff the on the table and dumping it in the sink. Maybe staying here wasn’t so bad after all.
[PART SIX]
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✨ Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it :) there might be some errors/mistakes as I'm dyslexic, I do check my work a couple times, but I do miss bits and pieces - Leya
Taglist: @unclearblur @enfppuff @reiluvr @elita1 @tired-writer04 @kaoyamamegami @gallantys @leon-thot-kennedy @trulovekay @harley101399 @misshoneypaper @rpgsandstuff @tomatto1234 @lolyouresilly @madsothree @astrothedoll @grandfartvoid @delaynew @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @little-mini-me-world @exitingmusic @majocookie @elegancefr
(Some of the tags wouldn't work so sorry if I didn't tag you. If you would like to be added just let me know)
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yunoclips · 1 year ago
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interruptions
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Nerd!Haechan x reader
happy new year ;)
nsfw included
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He remembers the first time he saw you. The sun was shining way too brightly and the heat was sweltering. It was a normal day on campus for Haechan. Following his normal routine of eating , studying and then getting to class. Leaving his dorm as quietly as possible trying his best to leave his roommate, Jaehyun undisturbed. Jaehyun was someone that valued his hours of “beauty sleep”. 
He remembers the last time he accidentally disrupted Jaehyun’s sleep. It wasn’t a pleasant experience. But none the less he manages to exit successfully. Everything goes as planned. He gets to class without any interruptions. Interruptions are actually something that he rarely ever encounters considering he doesn’t have the most active social life. 
Haechan has no friends—Not counting the ones he has online waiting for him in his overwatch server. 
But he has no actual friends. The ones that you can go out with. The ones that let you crash at their place just because. The ones that keep you company when you’re lonely.
And while that might sound sad to any other person , it actually doesn’t effect him. Well at least that’s what he believes. He has good grades , a decent place to stay , food filling his belly and a computer than can handle everything else. Who needs friends when you already have the essentials. 
Besides friends can drag you down. If he had friends he wouldn’t be able to get to class on time and sit in his favorite spot like he’s doing now. 
Some people would consider him a Nerd, and he doesn’t blame them. He gets to class on time every day , always participates , never hands in an assignment late , gets perfect scores and to top it all of he wears these thick rimmed black glasses. Being called a Nerd is expected and he doesn’t mind it at all. 
As usual class goes by quickly, with no interruptions of course. Haechan steps out into the sweltering heat once again. Using his hand to shield the sun that blinds his eyes , he starts walking to his next class. Everything goes smoothly with no interruptions. Until he feels something fall out of his back pocket. He turns around quickly and bends down to grab it but when he looks up he stares at the first interruption he’s had in a while.
There you were standing in the middle of the campus looking absolutely dumb founded. The light of the sun reflecting off of your skin perfectly. Your hair was beautiful , bringing out all the profound features of your face. Your body was mesmerizing. He knows he shouldn’t be looking at you like this but he can’t help it when he finds himself staring at your tits. Eyes wandering to your thighs. Every thought that he shouldn’t be having suddenly bombards his mind. 
He tries his hardest to look away but something about you is so captivating. Maybe it’s the way you looked so confused. Holding the campus directory out , switching between looking down at it and then looking up to try and pin point your location. If he was a normal person he would’ve walked up to you and offered help. But he isn’t normal. 
So he turns around and walks to class quicker than he normally would. That day he was 10 minutes early to class. 
The next week was full of interruptions. If it wasn’t bad enough that he couldn’t get the image of you out of his mind. You just so happened to be in the same statistics class as him. 
“Great”
Even more distractions for him. Today was the day he finally decided to stop allowing you to cloud his mind. He was just gonna keep his head down and do his work like always. You didn’t even know he existed. How could he be so obsessed with someone that doesn’t even know he exists. 
His plans were actually starting to work. He managed to actually get some useful notes down on his paper without pausing mid sentence to daydream about how you would look ontop of him. But as the saying goes — all good things must come to an end. His bubble is popped instantly the moment you walk up to him. 
“Hi, my name is y/n” You had this disgustingly bright smile on your face. It wasn’t disgusting because it was a bad smile , it was disgusting because it was so precious that it should be locked away in a safe and hidden from the world. Not just exposed like this in front of so many filthy people. 
“ I know this is probably a rude way of introducing myself. But I’m actually quite new to campus.”
How pathetic he must look right now, he thinks to himself. His mouth is hung open and his eyes are drilling holes into yours. Instead of responding he just stares. Not thinking much of it , you continue 
“Your name is Haechan right? It’s nice to meet you !”  
Taking his limp hand off the desk you intertwine it with yours and shake it before softly placing it back down. 
When you touch him he feels something inside of him jump. He doesn’t know if was his heart or his cock. Or both. 
Still not receiving any response other than a mindless stare, you keep going. 
“I actually came to you for a reason.”
There it goes. What a fool he would be to think you would actually come up to him just because you wanted to be friends. Of course you needed something. 
“I was talking to our professor just a minutes ago. I had to explain to him that I was considering dropping this course. Math isn’t one of my strengths and I just can’t deal with the added stress right now. He interrupted me though and told me that there was actually someone in this class that could help me out a bit. Nd now here I am.�� 
You pause taking a moment to try and read his face. Trying to pick out any kind of reaction but you weren’t receiving any. 
“You know , it’s totally fine if you say no. I know this is again , kind of rude and abrupt. If you can’t help I won’t be mad or anythi-“
“No!” He says a little too loud. So loud that a few of the students that were close to him turned their heads quickly just to check if something was wrong. 
“Shit, this is why you don’t have any friends. What kind of response was that?” Internally scolding himself. 
“I-i mean no, it’s totally fine. I would be honored to help you. I-i mean not honored but glad. Honored sounds kind of creepy. A-am I making this weird , fuck you probably think I’m crazy. I promise I’m not it’s jus-“
Cutting him off , you put your hand on his shoulder and give him a comforting look. 
“It’s okay. It’s actually kinda cute.” 
Cute. You just called him cute. Something inside of him jumped again , this time it was definitely his cock. 
“So how about this Saturday at 1 ? We can meet in the park a few blocks down. It’s supposed to be really nice out. I can bring snacks and a blanket. It’s the least I can do considering you’ll be helping me out with something so short notice.” You finish with a smile painted across your face. 
All he can do is nod. Still stuck in a trance , he forces his self to answer. “Y-yea , Saturday is good. I can do Saturday” 
“Great ! See you Saturday Haechan”  
And just like that you disappear. The rest of Haechan’s day was absolutely unproductive. 
When he got home that night, he sprawled across his bed staring at the ceiling in darkness. That same night he jerked himself off with the hand you shook.
Removing his trousers with haste. The little glob of spit wasn’t enough to prevent friction. His hand was moving fast, faster than any other time. He was working so hard that his arm caught a cramp. 
His stomach was burning , knots of pure pleasure —and humiliation— forming. Coaxing himself through orgasm after orgasm. His head started to fog , he could hear his own heartbeat ripping through his ears. Mouth hung open in a silent scream. Thighs twitching , toes curled.
Only when his cock started to burn from the friction, did he finally stop. He fell asleep with his cock still in his hand. The only thing he could see in his dreams was you.  
The rest of the days leading up to Saturday went by like a blur. When the day finally came Haechan found himself sinking in desperation. For some reason the time leading up to your 1’o clock meet up was incredibly slow. He had made sure to take a nice shower with his good body wash that he spent way too much money on. He did his skin care routine , making sure to add an extra step. He even ironed his clothes , something he never does.  
He got to the park 10 minutes early. Although he’s always an early person for no real reason , this time he needed those 10 minutes to prepare himself.
How was he gonna greet you? Was he gonna stumble over his words like an idiot or speak in confidence? How did he look , was his shirt crisp enough? Did he smell fine? 
Just as he started to question himself more you walked towards him. That beautiful smile planted on your face , carrying a few bags and blankets. He was in a trance , and just like that everything he spent 10 minutes thinking about instantly disappeared from his mind. 
You finally reached him and plopped everything down. Leaning in to give him a hug you noticed how stiff he got. Maybe you should’ve asked first , you say to yourself. But little did you know , that small gesture alone sent blood rushing straight to his cock. 
“Fucking hell, get it together.” He says to himself. 
“Hi! I’m sorry for having you wait like this. The bus was taking longer than usual” genuine sorriness lacing your voice. 
“N-no , it’s fine. I wasn’t here that long”. And just like that a loud wave of silence washes over. He’s just staring at you like you have a spider on your forehead.
“Maybe the hug was actually way to much…” You say to yourself. 
“Well… How about we take a seat. I’ll open the blanket.” Breaking the silence. You bend down to start setting up. Shortly after you start, you see the other side of the blanket being spread open. Looking up , you see Haechan bent down to help you. How nice. 
The rest of the studying session goes smoothly. You come to learn that Haechan was indeed , very smart.  You understood everything he was saying , with the exception of some hardcore things. But you weren’t worried , there was always room for another session with him. 
After two long hours goes by , you sit up and pop a few grapes in your mouth. He seems to get the message and turns on his back, leaving the textbook forgotten. 
“Let’s take a break.” You propose. 
“Okay” Lifting himself up to face you , he continues. “I like breaks , breaks are cool.” 
He was so cute , you chuckle silently to yourself. 
“How about we tell each other one thing about ourselves. It can be anything.” 
“O-okay” hesitance evident in his voice. 
“I’ll start… I have this obsession with Kiwis. I know you’re probably thinking that I’m being over dramatic but no. I genuinely cannot go a single day without having one. It could be the middle of the night and I would literally wake myself up just to grab a kiwi , then go back to bed. It’s really weird I know… Actually you’re the first person that I’ve told. I guess today is your lucky day” Finishing off with a giggle. 
He feels like a pervert when the sound of your giggling goes through his ears and runs straight down to his cock. 
Clearing his throat , trying to calm himself down. He starts to speak. 
“My name isn’t Haechan. I mean it is Haechan but my actual name isn’t. It’s Donghyuck , but only my mom calls me that.” 
Donghyuck. What a nice name. It rings in your ears like the sound of wind chimes. 
“Donghyuck.. I like it , I like it a lot actually. Would it be fine if I called you that ?” 
At that moment he became even more obsessed with you than before. If that was even possible.
“Yea. I’d like that actually.” For the first time in a while , his heart is filled with warmth. 
“Well...Donghyuck. This was really nice. I should get going though , it’s getting dark out here and I don’t wanna get caught at the bus stop. How bout we do this again next week? Same place, same time ?” 
“Yes.” Answering almost too quickly. 
“I mean , yes that’s fine with me. Same place, same time.” 
Giving him a nod with a smile accompanying it , you get up. He follows after you, helping you pack up the snacks and the blanket. After you finish you give him one final hug. Leaning up to whisper in his ear. “Thank you again , Donghyuck.” 
And before he gets the chance to react you walk off. Leaving him there in shock with a painfully erect cock in his pants. It takes him 2 minutes to finally move and pick up his backpack from the floor. When he starts walking he almost trips over something. He looks down and it was your perfume. The same perfume that you use in class everyday. The perfume that smells like flower petals with hints of sweet fruit and a pinch of spice. The same perfume that he smelt when you whispered in his ear.
He leans down to pick it up. Staring at it for a few seconds he decides to just put it in his bag. Any normal person would’ve just quickly given it to you considering the bus stop was literally down the street. But Donghyuck is not a normal person. 
That night when he gets home , he does something so perverted. Something he’d never tell a soul about. He pulls out your perfume and sprays it all over his stuffed bear that he won at a raffle. Not even taking the time to get naked , he humps the toy with sloppy, inexperienced thrusts. His glasses fog up from the warmth of the room. His face is sweaty and sticky. He had drool seeping out the corners of his mouth. Mind gone completely blank. 
He came so hard, that he blacked out. 
When he regained consciousness two things were coursing through his mind. One of those things was him praying that his roommate didn’t hear him fucking himself silly. The other thing being that he was in trouble and it was all your fault. 
For the next couple of weeks , the two of you had these study sessions. They had went well and you were actually starting to understand the class. You and Donghyuck got closer too.
Ending every session with a fun fact about yourselves turned into full conversations about anything that crossed your mind. You would talk and he would listen. Thoughts of Donghyuck started clouding your head , even when you two weren’t together. 
Maybe it was because he never judged you for any weird thing you’ve said. Or maybe it was because he would let you talk your heart out — something nobody has ever done , and he would just listen happily. It could’ve also been the way he looks completely heart broken every time you leave him , like he’s worried you will never comeback.
 He’s also pretty attractive as well, soft black hair, beautiful skin, beauty moles that were spread so perfectly across his face and those thick rimmed black glasses. 
When you walked up to his seat in class that day , he assumed that it would just be for another study session. 
“Hi , we’re still on for saturda-“ 
“Do you wanna go out with me?” Cutting him off quickly.
“Like on a date.” You continue. You wait for a response but it takes a while. Maybe he didn’t understand you ?
But Donghyuck definitely understood. He understood so well that he thinks he’s dreaming actually. When the words “go out with me” flowed out of your mouth , his ears started ringing. He forgot how to breathe for a quick second. And for some odd reason he feels tears well up in his eyes. But before you think he’s trying to deny you , he forces himself to respond. 
“Are you asking me out ?”
“Yea I am actually” 
This can’t be right. The girl of his dreams asking him out , this has to be some sick joke. 
“Are you sure you weren’t talking to the person behind me , cause that would make sen-“
“No. I’m asking you, Donghyuck Lee, out on a date with me.” 
The tears were starting to fall now. Not of sadness but instead of Joy and utter happiness.
“Y-yea. I would be honored to go out with you, Like on a date of course.” Bringing his hand up to quickly wipe his cheek before you notice how pathetic he is. 
“Great ! I was thinking Friday , 5’ o clock ? There’s this really good looking burger joint around here.” There goes that beautiful smile again , so bright and big.
“Friday sounds good. I like Friday's …” 
“Good,” Pausing to take a good look at his face, you noticed his eyes were a bit watery. How cute.  “I’ll see you friday then , Donghyuck.” And just like that you disappear once again. 
When Donghyuck gets home that night , he cries in his pillow. He cries because he finally understands what it feels like to not be lonely— something that he’s been for so long. He cries and then humps his stuffed toy once again , until the only thought running through his mind is you. 
Friday came quickly. You two had met up a small little diner in the corner of town as promised. Everything was going perfect. The evening filled with jokes and you laughing at Donghyuck as he was having a mini panic attack after spilling ketchup all over his shirt.
The conversations were flowing so smoothly , it was like you two had known each other your entire lives. 
And yet again as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end. 
It was time to head back home but instead of taking the bus like you usually would you and Donghyuck decided to just walk.The entire walk was filled with you two telling each other things that nobody else knew. You felt this weird sense of comfort when you spoke to him. Almost like he was the only person who understood who you really were.
When you approached the front of your building you felt a wave of sadness wash over you. This was truly an amazing night.
“I usually don’t do this after the first date but… there’s just something about you Donghyuck.” For the first time since you met him , you felt nervous.
You were staring at the ground beneath you. You took a few seconds to recollect yourself. What was the worse that could happen? This is Donghyuck. Your sweet , understanding , shy , silly Donghyuck. 
“Donghyuck.. do you maybe wanna go out with me? As like… my boyfriend?” 
Boyfriend. The word boyfriend rang in Donghyuck’s ears. His breathing started getting shallow and his knees buckled a bit. A rush of euphoria washed over him , his mind was racing and his heart was beating out of his chest. The tears welled up in his eyes and started to roll down his pretty face like a waterfall. 
“Y-yea , I’d love that actually” Pausing to sniffle and wipe his face with the sleeve of his shirt. 
“I’d love to be your boyfriend.” 
“Are you okay hyuck ? You’re crying…” There was genuine concern in your voice. 
“N-no I’m fine. Just really really happy.”
What a dork. He was so infatuated with you that he started to cry when you asked him out. You found it endearing that he enjoyed you so much. A smile painted your face. There was an intense silence that enveloped the two of you in a box. It was as if you and Donghyuck were the only people on earth. Basking in each others glory. 
Staring into his captivating eyes you start to inch in closer to his face. Finally planting a soft kiss on his lips. He had completely stopped breathing. When you pulled away he looked absolutely stunned. Cute.
You give him a final look before turning away , walking to the entrance of your building. His eyes following you in silence.
Before you opened the door you turned around to say one last thing. 
“Goodnight , Donghyuck.” And just like that, you disappear. 
After you left him , he stood still in front of your building for 10 minutes. The world was revolving but Donghyuck was absolutely stuck. He needed time to comprehend what just happened , he had to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. 
That night when Donghyuck got home , he cried for a bit. Then he got on Overwatch to tell his buddies that he’d be gone for a while. Finally he sprawled himself out on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Occasionally bringing his hand up to rub over his lips, as if rubbing them would take him back to the moment you placed your soft lips on his. As the night got darker , his eyes got heavy. When he finally fell asleep he had a smile on his face and dreamed of you. 
Everything was perfect. 
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loaksky · 1 year ago
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no thoughts other than professor!abby / coworker!abby and the holiday stocking ! this is like 80 percent backstory bc who am i to not blabber about my new favorite trope...full length fic abt them in the works oops! not proofread + no warnings other than language!
tlou masterlist | main masterlist
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⋆.ೃ࿔ first let’s set the scene by establishing that abby’s probably a tenure-track professor in a hyper specific literature study or maybe cross-teaches a course or two in the women and gender studies department. you’re a new educator probably teaching english 101?
⋆.ೃ࿔ abby first sees you at the faculty meeting for her department during the late summer and is immediately enamored.
⋆.ೃ࿔ by some stroke of luck, she finds that she’s been assigned to your neighboring office and her final lecture is held in the hall across from yours.
⋆.ೃ࿔ abby’s usually pretty good about the timing of her lectures and she ends up finishing 10-15 minutes early every session. so sometimes she hears the tail end of your lessons and can’t help but think you’re so fucking brilliant.
⋆.ೃ࿔ the students are taken by you too, usually not paying any mind to professors that teach lower level classes, but you’re animated and hands-on, and abby realizes that maybe she should take a page from your book.
⋆.ೃ࿔ literally can’t work up the courage to say anything to you first and is so surprised when she’s having an internal warfare one day while she’s locking up the lecture hall and you slink past her.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “have a good weekend dr. anderson!”
⋆.ೃ࿔ nearly short circuits because how in the fuck do you know her name? (hint hint: you haven’t been able to get a grip after seeing her in the same faculty meeting she’d basically fallen head over heels for you at).
⋆.ೃ࿔ for the life of her, can’t get her shit together over the weekend. is so scatterbrained because the hot new professor knows her name?? practically spirals because that means that she’s been perceived and she has no idea if it’s a good or bad thing because what do you think of her ???
⋆.ೃ࿔ runs into you bright and early monday morning as she’s about to duck into her office and she wants to make a beeline for the safety of her ergonomic chair, but you look a little frazzled and she’s speaking before she can stop herself.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “everything alright?” she asks as you miss the slot for the keyhole a few times and blow out a shaky sigh.
⋆.ೃ࿔ notices you’re carrying a fuckton of things and is wordlessly grabbing your stack of folders and taking your heavy knapsack from you as you finally get the key in the keyhole.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “thank you so much,” you say, voice thick with unshed tears. “i just, fuck, shit, sorry, that wasn’t professional—”
⋆.ೃ࿔ and she could melt because you’re so cute.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “i don’t think i saved the form for midterm grades on my laptop and the battery just crapped out on me, and i’m pretty sure i just missed the deadline and—”
⋆.ೃ࿔ “hey, breathe, breathe,” abby says gently, hands involuntarily smoothing over your shoulders. “you’re okay, it’s okay. shit happens.”
⋆.ೃ࿔ “god, i’m such a idiot.” you scrub your hands down your face. “the upper level professors were right, i do suck—”
⋆.ೃ࿔ “whoa, whoa,” abby calls out sternly, expression horrified. “who said that?”
⋆.ೃ࿔ “it’s not important,” you whisper, blowing out another breath and squeezing your eyes shut as you shake your hands to try to calm yourself. “they’re not wrong.”
⋆.ೃ࿔ “who.” and abby is no longer asking, arms bulging in her oxford shirt as she crosses her arms over her chest and stares down at you.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “dr. paige and mr. ruiz,” you say quietly, fidgeting under such a steely gaze.
⋆.ೃ࿔ abby just makes a noise in her throat, uncrosses her arms and tilts her head towards your desktop computer.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “if you were working on the submission form on your faculty account, it automatically syncs to the cloud both on and offline,” she says. “there’s usually a grace period until the final scheduled lecture for the day which is in...” she glances at her wrist watch, “in about an hour.”
⋆.ೃ࿔ you’re rounding your desk, practically throwing yourself in your chair as you boot up the computer and log into your faculty portal. your cheeks are flushed warm and eyes wide as your gaze flits across the screen.
⋆.ೃ࿔ you deflate in relief after a few clicks to find that professor anderson’s absolutely correct, and there’s the form in all it’s glory, cursor blinking and ready to be completed and submitted.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “holy shit, thank you so much,” you whisper.
⋆.ೃ࿔ when you look up, she’s already stormed halfway out of your office.
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⋆.ೃ࿔ “dr. paige and i would just like to extend a sincere apology for our words regarding your tenure here,” mr. ruiz says after they corner you in the staffroom a few mornings later.
⋆.ೃ࿔ your eyebrows are knitting together momentarily before it dawns on you like a splash of cold water.
⋆.ೃ࿔ it explains why professor anderson had been in such a hurry to leave your office after assisting you a few mornings ago.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “s’okay,” you shrug.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “it’s really not,” dr. paige says. “it was immature and uncalled for to make such comments, and such shouldn’t be taken lightly.”
⋆.ೃ࿔ a sudden movement outside of the window catches your eye, and you’re grinning when you see the familiar flash of dirty blonde.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “really, it’s no hard feelings,” you assure them. “now if you’ll excuse me.”
⋆.ೃ࿔ you’re breaking away from them to duck out of the staffroom and surprise surprise, abigail anderson is standing a few metres from the door, arms crossed over her chest.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “are you eavesdropping dr. anderson?” you tease.
⋆.ೃ࿔ she doesn’t even bother to hide it, answering with a firm and resounding, “yes.”
⋆.ೃ࿔ that earns a full-bellied laugh out of you and she realizes that she’s so fucking whipped.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “you’re a wonderful professor,” abby assures you. “your students love you and you’ve already accomplished such great things in the department.”
⋆.ೃ࿔ you can’t help but flush and an awkward but cute silence dawns the two of you after you murmur a quiet “thank you”
⋆.ೃ࿔ “where’s your next session?” dr. anderson breaks the ice. “i’ll walk you.”
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⋆.ೃ࿔ the two of you end up getting a lot closer over the rest of the semester and abby starts to get a little frustrated with herself for waiting for so long to actually talk to you.
⋆.ೃ࿔ because you’re practically perfect; so sweet, insanely intelligent, and it’s just the icing on top that you’re probably one of the prettiest girls she’s ever seen and you’ve got an equally pretty ass to match (abby is an ass girl IDC !)
⋆.ೃ࿔ heart is in shambles because you’ve learned how she likes her coffee and frequently bring her one first thing before your string of lectures start.
⋆.ೃ࿔ also, more often than not, the two of you are spending lunch hours together whether you’re grabbing a quick bite from one of the dining halls, splurging a little to eat lunch at an actual establishment, or killing time at the nearby bookstore a few blocks from the campus center.
⋆.ೃ࿔ long story short, you and abby have been spending so much time together and she knows she really likes you, but she can’t find it in herself to say anything because she doesn’t wanna scare you off with such a strong bout of emotions.
⋆.ೃ࿔ but literally everyone sees it! and it’s not necessarily that you’re oblivious, but abby’s accomplished, a really well-loved professor by both the department and her students, and even if there isn’t a ring on her finger, you’re convinced that abby’s got to have someone special in her life...it’s literally you.
⋆.ೃ࿔ even the students see it! dr. anderson’s been lagging recently during her last time slot and it doesn’t take long for a few students who love her especially so to see the way it takes her a little while longer to pack up and how she lingers out in the hall as your class ends!
⋆.ೃ࿔ “have a good weekend dr. anderson!” her last two students chime as they part ways with her. one of them glances over his shoulder and sees you filing out with a group of students from the adjacent classroom. “good luck.”
⋆.ೃ࿔ and abby’s beet fucking red when you finally lock up and ask her what that was about.
⋆.ೃ࿔ fast forward to now, it’s the final week before students are set to go home for the holidays and she’s a little down in the dumps because not only will she not get to see you for almost a month, but she’s usually alone this time of year and it’s agonizing to think that maybe you’ll be going home to someone else.
⋆.ೃ࿔ unbeknownst to her, you’ve been really nervous because maybe you’d overheard her talking to an adjunct professor, owen, about how she’d never gotten a personalized stocking made for her in response to seeing the one hanging on his shelf that his wife and kid had made for him this year, and perhaps you’d watched a couple youtube videos on stocking decorating and went out to buy the supplies right after.
⋆.ೃ࿔ admittedly, the last few days, the two of you are distant, her because she’s sad, and you because you’re probably spending every waking moment trying to think of ways to make the stocking perfect and you’re so in your head that you don’t even notice her change in demeanor.
⋆.ೃ࿔ and you try to make it perfect, really want abby to love her gift, so you fiddle around with it until the last possible moment.
⋆.ೃ࿔ you’re also nervous as fuck as you peer over your shoulder thursday afternoon, hoping dr. anderson doesn’t catch you in the act of staging her gift because frankly you’re too shy to give it to her.
⋆.ೃ࿔ even though you and dr. anderson are on great terms, she’s still so intimidating and you don’t trust yourself to make an ass of yourself, so you relay your message through a pretty piece of cardstock and tuck it into the bag before you’re scurrying off for the end of the semester.
⋆.ೃ࿔ finally, it’s the final day that campus will be open and abby’s trudging up to her office, only really intending to gather the last of what she’ll need since the buildings will be locked throughout the duration of holiday break, but she’s stopped dead in her tracks when she sees the sizable gift bag hanging on her doorknob.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “what that—”
⋆.ೃ࿔ she’s carefully moving around the tissue paper and her heart catches in her throat when she sees a blue stocking bulging with different treats and even a book! with her name carefully stitched on the band.
⋆.ೃ࿔ her first knee jerk reaction is that maybe owen pitied her and made her one, but a matching blue envelope catches her eye and she’s fishing it out of the bag.
⋆.ೃ࿔ recognizes your handwriting from the whiteboards when she’s stealing peeks into your classroom.
⋆.ೃ࿔ cheeks are flaming and stomach is tying in knots as she reads your note.
⋆.ೃ࿔ Firstly, I’m really disappointed I couldn’t deliver this to you in person, but my flight leaves for home on Friday... :( Nonetheless, you’ve been such a wonderful office neighbor and even more wonderful colleague. I truly can’t string together an adequate way to express how grateful I am to work alongside someone as kind and thoughtful as you, Dr. Anderson. You’ve quickly become such a dear friend and I hope you have a wonderful holiday! See you next year! ˆ<3
⋆.ೃ࿔ the fucking heart...the fucking heart!!! literally it’s all abby can fixate on before she realizes that there’s an ass of things tucked in the stocking and not only did you take the time to handstitch onto the fabric, but you took the time to gather things she didn’t even realize you knew she liked.
⋆.ೃ࿔ is unlocking her office so that she can pour the contents of the stocking onto her desk and she nearly dissipates into a pile of goo right then and there because there’s a few packs of her favorite gum (wintergreen), a set of her absolute favorite ballpoint pens (because gel pens are too runny for her liking), a giftcard to her usual coffee shop (“since I won’t be there to bring you your order” according to the note scrawled on the holder), a thick pair of argyle socks in her favorite colorway, and finally, there’s an annotated version of this is how you lose the time war.
⋆.ೃ࿔ and it has to mean something; your book choice and how you raved about it weeks prior during an excursion with abby to the public library, and you’d pulled the copy off the shelf and asked her if she’d read it.
⋆.ೃ࿔ “no,” she answered simply. “never caught my eye.”
⋆.ೃ࿔ “you should read it,” you’d said quietly. “their love was beautiful.”
⋆.ೃ࿔ and she’d never admit it, but she’d checked it out the following morning and blew through the book so fast, heart pounding in her chest as she realized that it was about two women in love. and, god, this has to mean something, she’d continue to agonize, even until this current moment.
⋆.ೃ࿔ and here an annotated version sits, your thoughts and inner feelings inking the pages. it makrs abby bubble with equal parts hope and sadness. sadness because it seems like way too long until she’ll see you again, and hope because maybe this means something more for the two of you in the future.
⋆.ೃ࿔ who knows, really. but abby’s certain that this holiday will feel a little less lonelier with her heart a lot more fuller.
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neng © 2023
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redrose10 · 8 months ago
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I’m going to be working on chapter 3 of Cold Brewed Love. I was really sick last week and then my toddler got really sick and we’ve just been a mess. But hopefully that should be out sometime soon.
…Last night I had a horrible panic attack. It came out of nowhere and was one of the worst ones I’ve had in a long time. I thought I was getting passed this but I guess not. So to get my mind off of it I wrote this. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, but just never wrote out. It’s just fluffy and funny and cute. I hope everyone likes it and maybe it’ll help someone else feel better.
I don’t have a title so if anyone has any good ideas let me know!!
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Yoongi x Female Reader
Warnings: Swearing, kind of suggestive, anxiety, depression, jealous Yoongi, little angst, maybe bad judgements against foreigners but not in a hateful way (when writing this I did it from the view of an American who speaks English because that’s me so I apologize to others who read that may not fit that role), also fluffy dorky Yoongi
Word count: 3,702
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(I included one of my all time favorite Yoongi photos because why not)
When Yoongi first got his military assignment he was less than thrilled about it to say the least. How do you go from writing hit songs while traveling the world performing for thousands of people and collecting records and awards like no one else to sitting behind a desk entering numbers into a computer for eight hours a day? But he understands the why behind the reasons he has to do this, along with knowing that it is his duty so he is committed to completing his service to the best of his ability. He gets up early in the morning pouring himself a cup of coffee before he puts on his uniform and makes the short drive to the office location.
Whether it was pure luck or a carefully calculated choice by someone in charge he was thankful to be working in a quiet building just outside of Seoul. His department was on the top floor. His desk in a back corner, by himself, somewhat hidden away from view. He could show up, do his job, and leave like nothing happened. He was content with keeping to himself, minding his own business, and not going out of his way to make friends. Of course he was polite and friendly if approached, but he was never the approacher.
And then he met you…
When his senior manager told him that he would be getting a desk partner he nodded and politely accepted the change but internally he was irritated. That irritation only grew when he found out that his new partner was a foreigner who barely spoke Korean. His mind immediately conjured up this idea that you were probably some kpop obsessed fan who moved here on a whim. The only saving grace he thought would be that due to the lack of mutual language you both would probably not be speaking much.
He got to work a few minutes earlier than usual on the day you were arriving to work with him. For some reason he wanted to beat you there feeling like he had to lay claim to his portion of the rather large desk. Your computer was already set up next to him. He sighed as he unpacked his bag and began logging in for the day.
Then you arrived. Your work uniform similar to his. You smiled and introduced yourself and then sat down and got right to work. You didn’t freak out and tell him how big of a fan you were. You didn’t even make small talk. You put in your ear buds and turned on some music and got right to work. You brought in a heavenly smell with you of vanilla and sugar. He’s sure it would be called something like Fluffy Cloud Sweet Sugar Oasis and Grandma’s Cookies or something like that if they sold it at Bath & Body works. And he was ready to buy every bottle.
When work was over for the day you told him to have a good night and packed your stuff and left. Yoongi realized this new seating arrangement wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
The days went by much similar to that first day. You introduced him to your best friend Joon-Sung who worked in a different department on the second floor. The first time he met him Yoongi felt what he told himself was just some indigestion from his lunch because there was no way he was jealous of the handsome man that you so freely talked to and joked with until he heard you mention something about Joon-Sung and his new boyfriend and the indigestion somehow magically went away.
Then Yoongi noticed that he found himself feeling a little more excited each day for you to walk through that door. He also started changing his routine bit by bit. He styled his hair a little more, at least the little bit of hair that was slowly growing back after having to get it shaved. He started wearing cologne again, even buying the one he heard you mention you liked after someone walked by wearing it. His nights were spent brushing up on his English so he could better converse with you and in the mornings he started bringing you cups of hot chocolate or herbal tea after he heard you tell Joon-Sung that you were trying to lower your caffeine intake because your anxiety was getting worse.
Then his world came spiraling out of control at the realization that he might like you…like a lot. The last thing he needs right now is any kind of relationship especially with a foreigner. Like sure you were really pretty and very nice and you both communicated well even with the language barrier and you were taking Korean lessons so you were getting better. You had acclimated to living in Korea just fine. Joon-Sung often joked that you acted more Korean than most Koreans and that you were a Korean Ajumma in a young woman’s body.
Your best friend other than Joon-Sung was your 80 year old neighbor Mr.Park and his cat Mittens which lead Yoongi into remembering a story about how you and Mr. Park spent all day hand making cat toys to take to the animal shelter which made Yoongi’s heart swell with affection before he quickly shook that feeling away.
The more he thought about it the more Yoongi realized how much of your life he had grown to know and how much he looked forward to seeing you and talking to you.
And how much he talked about you outside of work.
“I don’t know man, sounds like you like her.”, Hoseok said while having a couple drinks at Yoongi’s on his day off from the military.
“I do not. She’s just nice. We have to work together. That’s all.”
“Mmmhmm sure, that’s why you haven’t stopped talking about her all night. Jimin mentioned that you even told him about her over the phone. And your ears are doing that thing.”
“What thing?,” Yoongi questioned already knowing the answer.
“You know…that thing where you ears get all red when you’re lying or embarrassed. And by how red they are I’m thinking it’s a little of both.”, Hoseok chuckled before taking a sip of beer.
Yoongi couldn’t like you. He’s only known you for a few months. He doesn’t fall that easily for anyone. He knew his last partner for three years before asking them out. He hasn’t even hung out with you outside of work yet. He had your number, but that was because you asked him for it to send over a work file you were going to complete at home. He’s never texted you outside of a thanks once he’s received it. Sure he’s opened up a blank message and attempted to text you something almost every night. That’s normal though. Right? He’s just awkward and you’re just a friend.
Then he saw you walk in for the day. You were carrying two bags of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. One bag had Joon-Sungs name on it and the other had Yoongi’s. You made him cookies. He thought his heart was going to explode.
When Joon-Sung walked in to collect his package from you he started complaining about how he was going on a date with some guy who loved basketball so now he was trying to cram full of info to try and impress him. He showed you his phone,
“Who is this?”
“That’s Lebron James.”
“Is he any good?”
“Well he’s the highest scoring player in NBA history, he’s top 10 in steals and assists, and has four championships so yeah you could say he’s pretty good.”
“Okay and what team does he play for?”
You sighed, “He was drafted by the Cleveland Cavaliers in 2003 then he went to the Miami Heat for a while and then back to Cleveland and now he’s with the Lakers.”
Yoongi listened as you rattled off basketball facts like nothing with his eyes wide.
Fuck I think I love her, he thought to himself.
Yoongi tried his best to push any thoughts he was having about you far out of his mind. But you were all he thought about. How good you smelled next to him. How sweet your voice sounded saying his name. How you would feel underneath him with his body pressed against yours…
Realizing he was about to really embarrass himself at work he quickly started thinking about that time he accidentally saw his mom in her underwear instead hoping to change the direction of his thoughts but because his brain seemed to hate him his thoughts wandered back to what you would look like in this black lace number he saw was being released by some high end lingerie brand. Maybe he could buy it for you as a gift. Or would that be weird? Quickly he excused himself needing to get up and get a distraction.
When he returned to his desk Joon-Sung was gone and you were typing away at your computer.
“Hey can I ask you a question?”, you said, “I hope I’m not going to make things weird between us.”
Yoongi froze. Did you notice? Could you read minds? Oh my God Yoongi that’s so stupid, people can’t read minds. He was so in his thoughts he forgot that you had asked him a question until he saw you staring back at him.
“Of course, go ahead.”, he managed to squeak out.
“So Joon—Sung is having a party this weekend. He wanted me to ask you to come. It’s nothing big. He does them every few weeks. He’s just social like that.”
Yoongi’s not sure if he’s relieved that you’re not some mind reader or if he’s hurt that you’re only asking him to come because someone else told you to and not that you actually want him there.
But he agrees to go regardless because he wants to spend time with you.
Yoongi doesn’t like to judge people but he’s a little shocked to find out that Joon-Sung lives in one of the fanciest most elite apartment complexes in Seoul. Something about having family money so he works mostly to give himself something to do. Yoongi admits he’s a little impressed and also a little jealous.
He came prepared with topics to talk about. He researched the bands he always sees you listening to even though most really weren’t his style. He looked into your home city so he could ask you questions. And if all else fails he can rely on basketball as a speaking point. He can’t remember the last time he put this much effort into getting to know someone.
He takes off his shoes and walks into the main living area and immediately starts scanning the room for you. He spots you right away.
He takes a moment to look you over. The dress you’re wearing is much shorter and tighter than your normal work outfit. It accentuates every one of your curves perfectly. He sees what he thinks is a thigh tattoo poking out the bottom. He wants to see more of it. You look so good and he can feel his temperature rising. Fuck Yoongi get it together. You’ve been acting like some deprived horny teenager he thinks while making a mental note to call his doctor. Maybe his hormones are out of whack or something. This isn’t normal for him to feel like this around someone.
He watches as you’re happily talking to some guy. Some guy who’s like ten feet tall and made of pure muscle and looks like he was ripped out of beauty magazine. Maybe that is your type. Maybe he should introduce you to Jungkook. At least then he’d still get to see you after his service is up because you’d clearly not be interested in someone like him.
You’re laughing at something the guy said while placing your hand on his bicep.
Well this is something Yoongi never thought about. He was so consumed in his feelings for you that he never stopped to think about whether or not you liked him too or if you were even available. What if you’re already seeing someone? What if you’re happily married with two kids? He never asked you about your relationships since it felt too personal at the time. He feels like the room is spinning as he is trying to find another route when he hears you calling his name.
You walk over and wrap your arms around him in a hug, “I’m so glad you decided to come.”
He smiles feeling some relief as you lead him to the kitchen to get a drink and something to eat.
You’re both eating a piece of pizza when you ask him a question.
“This is random but do you have a nickname? I mean besides Suga or Agust D of course.”
He shakes his head.
“You look like a Yoongles. Has anyone ever called you that?”
“A few fans have online but that’s it.”, he chuckles.
“Well I think it suits you. Or maybe Yoongily Boongily Bear.”
“Okay” he snorts trying to fake indifference but in that moment he realized that he’d let you call him Captain Dumbass if you wanted to just so he could see your smile and hear your giggle again.
Yoongi had gone to talk to one of your other co workers for a while to give you a break from him since you’d been attached at the hip. He was coming back from the bathroom when he noticed you were nowhere to be found.
Did you leave already? And without even saying goodbye. That hurt a little more than he wanted it to. He didn’t get the chance to ask you about your hometown. Now he’s stuck with all these useless facts about some city he’s never even been to.
Just as he was about to give up and head home someone moved the large curtain hanging against the window and he recognized your figure leaning against the balcony outside. Slowly he made his way there.
“I thought you left.”, he said when you turned to look at him after hearing the door open.
“No it was just getting to people-ish in there, I needed a break.”
Yoongi felt bad for intruding on your space.
“Oh I’m sorry. I’ll go back inside.”
He felt electricity shoot through his body after you grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the railing, “No stay. I like spending time with you.”
He felt his heart skip.
The two of you stood in silence for a few moments while staring down at the vast city below.
“I like to look out at the city when I’m overwhelmed or when my anxiety gets too much.”, you suddenly spoke, “I like watching the lights, seeing all the people move around. Some going to work, some coming home. Couples going on dates. Some people are down there having the best day of their life while others are having the worst. It’s comforting in a weird way.”, you chuckled, “To know you’re not alone out here in the world.”
Yoongi looked you over quietly. He didn’t know you struggled so much with anxiety and feelings like that. He knew you had anxiety which is why he never got you anything with a lot of caffeine, but he thought it would just make your heart race or something. He didn’t know you suffered so harshly from it. You always seemed to calm and put together. He felt a strong urge to just wrap you in a big fluffy blanket and give you a kitten to hold as he cuddled you close while telling you it’ll all be okay.
“It’s funny actually. I never really listened to your music before I met you.”
Yoongi gasped dramatically acting extremely hurt.
You giggled, “I know. I mean I knew of you guys and such but it wasn’t really my thing. But when I found out I was going to be working with you I wanted to know about your music and having something to talk about with you. Honestly I went into it not having high expectations.”
Now Yoongi was genuinely a little hurt but he knew everyone was entitled to their own opinions and feelings and that’s why music was so great.
You continued, “I was taken back by how real your music was. How full of emotion and the raw feelings you conveyed. Your song The Last, man I cried after hearing that. To see someone struggle as much as you did with mental health issues and still come out on top even though you had to fight for it. It gave me hope. Maybe one day I’ll be okay too.”
Yoongi thought about every funny scenario he could. That time Jin shoved an entire donut in his mouth and then accidentally coughed it all over Namjoon’s face or that time his brother slipped on some ice and conveniently landed right in a giant puddle of dirty water like he was in a cartoon. Anything to stop himself from crying in front of you.
“Then I listened to Snooze. And that song has become like my anthem. Any time I feel the walls closing in on me or I think I can’t do it any more I play that one and I can feel the gray clouds being pulled away and the sun shining down.”, you chuckled, “You have got to introduce me to WooSung by the way.”
Yoongi laughed with you but deep down he knew he was NEVER introducing you to WooSung unless it was at your wedding after you’d already exchanged vows and kissed and you were officially Mrs. Min Yoongi. Then MAYBE he might let you meet him…from across the room…over video chat.
“I’m glad my music could help you so much. Any time I hear something like that it gives me the motivation to keep going too.”, he said not really sure how to comfort you in that moment.
“How did you do it?”
He look at you confused.
“How did you heal yourself?”
Yoongi found himself chuckling. Not because he thought it was a funny question or anything but he never thought he’d be answering questions like that.
“I mean I don’t know if I’ll every be fully healed. At first I used alcohol. I’d drink until I wasn’t coherent enough to feel. Then I switched to working myself until I was so exhausted I didn’t have the energy to worry. But now I go to therapy and take medicine when it gets really bad. I use music as an escape without overworking myself. I also surround myself with people who I know are good for me. I think that’s really important.”
You nodded in understanding.
“Thank you Yoongi. For helping not only myself but also yourself and the millions of fans around the world.”
Fuck he wanted to kiss you so bad and and hold you and make sure you never felt another ounce of sadness ever again.
This conversation kind of killed the mood admittedly though. You just opened up to him about something that must’ve been difficult and he can’t just be like oh hey by the way I want to date you and hopefully do unspeakable things to you one day so do you want to go out with me? That would be really insensitive.
Instead he was going to simply invite you to hang out as friends, offer to be your support and see where it goes from there.
“Hey Y/N…”
Just then the door swung open and a very drunk Joon-Sung came stumbling out.
“There you are. I looked everywhere for you guys. I figured you were blowing him in the bathroom already.”
Yoongi choked on his spit and felt his entire body heat up at that statement.
“Did you tell him how you love him and you think he has the prettiest eyes and the nicest smile and the cutest little butt?”
“Go.to.bed.Joon-Sung.”, you hissed.
“Alright alright, but if you two are gonna fuck use the spare bedroom. I paid too much for my couch for there to be naked ass cheeks on it.”, he slurred before stumbling back inside.
You turned back around and continued to stare out at the city below. Yoongi thought you were handling this well. If it was him he would’ve already jumped over the railing from embarrassment.
“I’m sorry.”, you whispered when he came up next to you, “I didn’t want you to find out like that. It’s gonna be weird between us now. Monday morning I’ll ask for them to reassign me to a new department.”
“Y/N”
“Hell I’ll even move out of the city.”
“Y/N”
“I’ve heard Busan is nice.”
“Y/N”
“Just please don’t write a song about me. I don’t think I can recover knowing my most embarrassing moment is being retold on stage as seven guys do some extreme choreography while wearing coordinating outfits.”
Y/N!”
Finally he got your attention. He couldn’t help but smile at how flushed you were.
“Can I kiss you?”
“What?”
He used the new boost in confidence from knowing that you liked him too to take a step closer to you. So close he could feel the warmth of his breath bouncing back off of your skin.
“Y/N…Can…I…Kiss…You?”
You didn’t say anything but nodded which was all he needed to lean in placing his lips on yours. It’s cheesy but he felt like fireworks were going off. His senses were overloaded with you. That familiar sweet vanilla perfume you always wear. The softness of your lips. The taste of the pizza and hard cider you had earlier. It made him feel like he could fly.
“So you think I have a cute butt huh?”, he smirked against your lips.
“Seriously? That’s what you’re going to remember?”
He stepped back putting his hands up in defense, “Hey listen, you don’t even want to know the things I’ve thought about your butt over the last couple months.”
“Yeah well maybe you can show me instead then huh.”, you smiled pulling him in for another kiss.
“I would be happy to”
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sv5hive · 1 year ago
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take a break | sv5
pairing: sebastian vettel x fem!reader
warning(s): unhealthy studying habits(?), self-doubt, academic failure etc, etc.
word count: 797
note: this is incredibly self indulgent bcos guess who failed their chemistry exam!!! hahahaha you guessed it it's me!! (if i don't laugh i'll cry.)
masterlist!
hours of staring at a bright computer screen in a pitch black room had clearly began taking its effects after the words began to warp and swirl around. a dozen empty cans of redbull sat at the bottom of your bin along with several scraps of paper you had torn apart in frustration.
you couldn't even remember when you sat down at your desk to study. all you knew was that you had an important exam the next day and you felt hopelessly unprepared. you tore your eyes away from the blinding screen to look outside your window. the moon shone through sparse clouds illuminating the desolate streets. usually, the roads were teeming with cars trying to get home but at this time of night you were the only one awake.
"schatz? what are you still doing up?"
in the midst of zoning out, you failed to hear your boyfriend entering through the door.
was it really that late?
"i'm almost done, seb. i just have to finish this little bit now."
"come on, how long have you been sat at that desk, hm? studying for hours on end does more bad than good."
"i know, i just- i'm almost finished i promise. this test is really important and i have to do well."
"hey, hey, what's wrong?"
he rushed over to you with furrowed brows and outstretched arms.
without even realising, tears had brimmed your eyes and began tumbling down your face at an alarming rate.
"nothing, it's nothing. uhm, i'll finish this and then i'll come to bed."
you hastily wiped away your tears with your sleeves but they seemed to be never ending.
"it's obviously not nothing, schatz. if it's making you cry like this it's something to talk about."
the seconds ticked by as you debated whether you were ready to reveal what had been plaguing your mind. clearly sensing your inner turmoil, sebastian tugged you out of the chair and towards the kitchen.
"come with me to the kitchen, i'll make us some tea so you can calm down."
after two cups of hot chamomile tea had been made and placed on the counter, sebastian sat opposite you and patiently waited for you to speak without pushing you. your tears slowed down to faint sniffles as you sipped on the tea silently. annoyingly, sebastian was right and it did help you compose yourself. you put down your half empty cup and cleared your throat.
"i've been struggling with my studies. there's just so much to remember and it just gets harder and harder to keep up but everyone else is fine and i don't understand why i'm the only one who can't do the simplest tasks."
at this point, it was difficult to see through your hot tears and your face was burning up with embarrassment. sebastian was quick to place his hand over yours to try and bring you some sense of comfort.
"schatz, you are the smartest person i know. if you're finding it difficult then you're probably not the only one. i'm sure everyone can see how much effort you're putting in and that's all anyone can ask of you. if you don't do well on the test tomorrow it's not the end of the world, ok? but i think you will be completely fine, im certain."
you nodded half-heartedly, not fully convinced despite his little pep talk. you rubbed any remaining tears away and attempted to put a smile on your face.
"yeah, sorry i just feel like an idiot dumping all this on you when you just got home from work. how was your day?"
he got up from his seat to encase you in his arms. he might not be able to help with your assignments but he could definitely be there to support you with anything and everything else.
"don't apologise for your feelings. i'm sorry i didn't realise you were having a hard time. i should've noticed you weren't coping well. and my day was good, thank you for asking."
you smiled into his chest at his heartfelt apology for something that was never his fault to begin with.
"don't be silly, seb. it's not your job to constantly watch me. i should be able to do that myself."
"i know you can take care of yourself but it doesn't hurt to ask for help sometimes. it might feel like you're alone but you're not. i'm always here for you, you know that right?"
he tightened his hold on you as if to reassure you further and peppered the crown of your head with soft kisses.
you leaned up to place a peck on his cheek to express your gratitude in a way you would never be able to do justice with words.
"yeah, i know."
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xuchiya · 8 months ago
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"My president" || jeong yunho || one-shot
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| genre: non!idol ateez. fluff. slice of life | mentions: teasing. fainting. jewelry gift. | This is literally my high school delusions. My old school is literally an 'old school' school like no phones and computers, being in a relationship is not allowed, and big ass windows as our source of fans--- i mean we do have electric fans and ceiling fans but with the weather and a very old, close to dying, e-fans? We really have to depend on the wind from our windows. Anyways, this list is basically a true experience. My personal favorite? Song Mingi's.
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Jeong Yunho was no stranger to the weight of responsibility. After almost a week of election for the student council, Yunho won as the newly elected president of the high school department. Being the president of the student body council, his days were filled with meetings, event planning, and endless paperwork. Meeting with the head minister of the department for any event or team building. Yet, despite all his efforts, his own school work had started to pile up, deadlines looming over him like a dark cloud.
Yunho rolled his head side to side as he felt the heavy aching on his neck whilst he approached his classroom. The sun had long set when Yunho finally made his way back to his classroom. His footsteps echoed in the empty hallways, the only sound breaking the silence of the deserted school. As he slid the door open, he paused, his eyes landing on a familiar figure by the window.
You were there, alone and fast asleep, your head resting against the cool glass. He remembers you, of course who doesn’t. You were his rival during the campaign. He read your proposal and he was moved by your plans for the school year. He is totally rooting for your success in becoming the next president in the high school department although at the end, he was placed first. 
Yunho hesitated for a moment, not wanting to disturb your peaceful slumber. Instead, he quietly settled into a desk diagonally from you, unpacking his belongings with careful movements.
The hours ticked by, and Yunho busied himself with the mountain of assignments he had neglected. The quiet hum of the night outside the window was a comforting backdrop to his steady scribbling. By the time he had nearly finished, he felt his eyes getting heavier as he scribbled down his notes before he had enough and laid his head down; not able to stop himself, he drifted to a nap.
After a few minutes of him falling asleep, the ends of the curtain woke you up as it grazed your face, making you stirred, slowly waking from your nap. Still half-asleep, you blinked at the room— it was dark but the light above you was the only source of light, your gaze eventually landing on the tall figure hunched over his desk. Recognition flickered in your eyes as you realized who it was.
Jeong Yunho. Your former rival for the student council presidency. But rivalry wasn’t quite the right word—there had never been any animosity between you. In fact, you respected his victory, accepting defeat with sportsmanship. It was clear Yunho had earned his position through hard work and dedication.
You quietly stood up, making your way toward his desk. Yunho was fast asleep, his long hair falling on his face making him stirred in his sleep before returning back to his nap. You chuckle, taking a pin out of your hair and pushing his hair behind his ear and securing it with the pin. Your action did not wake him up, to which you feel relieved. You took notice of his head resting on a pile of notebooks. His breathing was soft, and the exhaustion on his face was evident. You couldn’t help but notice the scattered assignments across his desk, some still unfinished.
“You must be so tired after all of this.” With a small sigh, you reached into your bag and pulled out your own notes. You carefully placed them on top of his bag, along with a small notepad. Scribbling a quick message, you left the notes for him before packing up your things. As you exited the classroom, you couldn’t help but glance back at Yunho one last time before heading out into the cool night air.
Yunho woke up a few minutes later, groggy and disoriented. As he rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms up, the nap made his energy pump up. Yunho ran his finger through his hair until he felt something stuck to his hair, frowning he pulled what it was and looked at the heart shaped hairpin. Yunho chuckles, yet confused as to why he has the pin in his hair in the first place until he recalled who owns it. A short flashback came in his head, seeing your hair tucked behind by the same pin.
Yunho chuckles, placing the pin in his chest pocket, as he pats the pocket, he notices the papers on his bag, it contains your notes and some of the copies of the printed notes from the book. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw your handwriting on the note:
Thought you could use some help. Hope this gets you through the rest of the night.
 A soft smile tugged at his lips. He quickly packed up his belongings, heart racing as he realized you had already left. He couldn’t let you leave without thanking you. Throwing his bag over his shoulder, he dashed out of the classroom, his long strides carrying him quickly down the hallway.
His head snapped left and right when he reached the gate, looking for you. It wasn’t long before he spotted you walking ahead, your hands gripping the straps of your bag as you mindlessly wandered down the path, skipping a step. The wind picked up, causing your skirt to flutter slightly. 
Yunho’s heart flutters at the sight of your dancing skirt, removing his blazer as he approaches you. Without hesitation, Yunho jogged up to you, draping his coat around your waist to keep the wind at bay.
Startled, you turned around, meeting his gaze. "Yunho?" you asked, surprised to see him.
"Be mindful of your back," he said with a gentle smile, tying the coat securely around your waist causing you to stumble towards his chest. Your hand laying on top of his broad chest, making your cheeks red. Yunho notices your cheeks, smiling adoringly at your cuteness.
 "And… Thank you for the notes. I really needed them."
Blinking several times, you were shaken out of your thoughts, a shy smile forming on your lips as you both fell into step together. Clearing your throat, tapping his chest before you pull away. 
Yunho nods his head towards the convenient store, “My treat.” You eyed him to which he chuckles, bumping his shoulder with yours before both of you fell in a laughing pit. As you purchase ice-creams and exit the store. The quiet of the night surrounded you as you walked side by side, the world around you fading away.
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thezombieprostitute · 8 months ago
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Lmao this made me think of Jakey Poo
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You know what? I'm making this canon for how Jake and Sunshine met.
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Summary: Jake knows he's the luckiest man in the world and it's all because of you.
Warnings: None at this time. Please let me know if I missed any!
A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.
Previous
Tech Tuesdays Masterlist
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Poor Jake didn't have much going for him when he left military service for the civilian life. He's just not sure what to do with himself outside of work and gaming. He tries to go out, especially when he's meeting up with The Losers again, but often he finds himself just feeling lonely with too much time on his hands.
Then he gets a ticket from you. The problem seems like an easy enough fix so Jake, still being the new guy on the team, gets assigned to it. He signs onto the Zoom app that he despises with all of his being, but it's company policy to use it.
When you answer the Zoom call your voice is so sweet that it takes Jake a second to respond. You actually think there's something wrong with the connection and he hears you saying, "frick. Even in the future nothing works."
He laughs, recognizing the Spaceballs reference, and startles you. "Sorry about that," he chuckles, as he hears your gasp. "That was just...really funny. Don't meet a lot of Spaceballs fans these days." He shakes his head, "anyways, I'm going to take control of your computer for a bit so I can try to fix it."
"Of course," you reply. It is standard procedure.
Jake gets a remote look at your desktop background and gasps, "you're a Pokemon fan!"
"Gen 1 and proud," you reply.
"That might explain what happened," he starts. "You let your Magnemite get too close to your laptop!" You laugh at the joke and Jake feels his cheeks heat up.
"Well it certainly isn't a Rattata chewing on the wires," you chuckle back.
"Hmm. Maybe we should get maintenance to double check," he jokes. He starts poking around your system files and is immediately at a loss. "What the..."
"Everything okay?"
"Umm..." Jake starts floundering. "I, um, I think. Hmm..."
Shit, he thinks. He was really hoping he could impress you. He's never even seen you but you're so nice and a fellow geek. He wanted to go in, press a button and fix your problem, but this is something more complicated than the ticket implied. He's wishing he had his pirate hat to help him think.
"Okay," he shakes his head, clearing his thoughts, "I think I'm going to need to take a look at the computer itself to figure this out."
"Sure thing." You exchange names and give him your cubicle number and quickly start cleaning up your desk. He might be an IT guy but his voice is very sexy, his laugh even moreso. And he's a fellow geek! Not someone who looks down on you for liking "childish things". You want to make a good impression.
By the time Jake gets to your cubicle you've tidied up pretty well. You smile up at him and Jake swears he's never met a more beautiful woman in his life. He's barely able to get out a "hi" because you've taken his breath away.
You're trying hard not to giggle and kick your feet at how cute Jake is. The fact that you've flustered him isn't lost on you and it makes you feel even giddier.
"Um, I um, I like your, your Gravity Falls sweater," Jake finally gets out.
Looking down you realize you're wearing your handmade Mabel Pines sweater and your face lights up. "Oh, thanks! I made it myself!"
"That's so cool," Jake says, earnestly. "I'm always so jealous of people who can make their own cosplay stuff."
"I could make you something," you quickly offer. "If, that is, um, if you'd like."
He smiles at you and, for the first time in a very long time, he feels like everything's going to be okay. The clouds are parting and you, the sunshine, are lighting up his life.
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Next
Tech Tuesdays Masterlist
Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly
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donatellarose · 3 months ago
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— storms and spirits
Albert Wesker x f!reader
rated e - 1,214 words
tags: STARS captain Wesker, set just before the events of Resident Evil and the Spencer Mansion situation, reader is Chris Redfield's younger sibling, caught in a storm, drinking after work with your boss
prompt: smooth whiskey / soaked clothes from angellilacs
dividers: saradika graphics
notes: Writing Wesker pre RE is so strange. May have made him a bit too soft here? But I think he'd be keeping his cover as Captain before the betrayal. Since I love fluff and comfort, some ooc behavior makes for a happy author.
Welcome to your first day as a Raccoon Police Department S.T.A.R.S. officer. Don't get caught in a storm while on patrol with your Captain.
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You had chosen to follow in your older brother's footsteps. The news would come as a surprise to literally no one though. Chris had raised you after the death of your parents. You even had a Swiss Army Knife in your hand the second you turned thirteen. Both for self defense, but also to be like dearest big brother. Always helping people whenever you could. And that meant being a S.T.A.R.S. officer.
The S.T.A.R.S. team only worked because of all the various skill sets. Each unit was based around a team of five operators and one pilot. Though all members were well versed in tactical combat, each had their own skill set that would prove helpful on missions, ranging from recognition of chemical weapons, computer expertise, criminal science, firearms analysis, and sharpshooting.
You had been a shoe in for the most recent job opening. Volunteering within the S.T.A.R.S. office since you were sixteen, you'd spent weekends cleaning weapons and organizing files of closed cases. Your friendly and hardworking demeanor won everyone over, including Captain Wesker. The older man had actually been the one to slide Chris the job application form to pass along to you. After all, the shine you took to chemistry class had led to a university degree in the subject. The additional first aide training from summers spent as a lifeguard made you a perfect fit for handling chemicals and serving as team medic.
It had been no surprise that you were immediately offered the job. Barry, your favorite officer, even had your favorite donut from Moon's waiting on your desk on your first day. All the required trainings had been passed on your part, and you were cleared for duty. You settled in at your desk while straightening out your white shirt with the S.T.A.R.S. emblem proudly over the left sleeve. The M69 Flak vest in royal blue provided some warmth against the gloomy, dark clouds outside.
It had only been an hour of reviewing documents and answering emails before the assignment came in. A far cry from the standard operation of cyber crime and hostage situations, the task was simply to investigate the orphanage across town. Some residents had complained of screaming and breaking glass at the Raccoon City Orphanage just north of the police station.
"Redfield."
Wesker's clear, commanding voice cuts through the office. Both you and Chris turn to look at your captain emerging from his corner office, both of you starting to rise from your respective desks. Wesker shakes his head before pointing at you.
"Just little red for now. We'll go out and do recon. Barry, you take point until we get back."
You rise to your feet, grabbing your gear. Your leg holsters and combat knife sheath were soon ready with your Beretta 92FS service weapon and custom made combat knife. You fall in step besides Wesker, lengthening your stride to match his. Cutting through the West hallway to the library, you soon make your way out the front entrance.
"We'll walk for now. It'll be quicker."
His voice stops you in your tracks, your path veering off towards the nearby patrol cars parked nearby. You correct your route and walk alongside him once more. A silence that would have been uncomfortable for anyone else falls over you. But, not for you. Someone who knows the way to this man's heart is raspberry donuts and black coffee, as well as any compliment on his black sunglasses that never leave his face.
The walk to the orphanage is brief, the cloudy skies growing darker. A subtle air of annoyance seems to waft from your Captain the closer you get to the crumpling building.
"It's probably nothing. People have been flaky recently. Must be something in the air."
He explained, a hint of coldness in his tone before he peers through the fence at the building. Nothing was out of place, save for the overgrown grass in the front yard. You both spend at least an hour inspecting every inch of the property and questioning the staff of the orphanage. No broken glass, no screams. Nothing. You catch his shoulder's relax slightly as you begin to return to the station.
The weather only waits a mere second before the sky opens up, drenching you both in frigid rainwater. Wesker catches your elbow and silently urges you to speed up. You match his pace as you both run through the rain. Rather, you try. Wesker is hardly winded after your five minute sprint back to the cover of RPD, whereas you are doubled over with your hands on your knees while sucking in precious air. Both of you are utterly soaked to the skin.
You start shivering the second you reenter the police station, the air conditioning biting through your damp uniform. Trudging after Wesker, you disappear into the women's locker room to dry off. You have no clothing here in your locker, no one thinks to bring a backup outfit on their first day. A soft knock at the bathroom door draws your attention, you peek out and see a neatly folded stack of clothing. Much too big for you, the S.T.A.R.S. sweatshirt and black gym shorts could have easily fit any of the male officers. You quickly get changed and return to the S.T.A.R.S. office down the hall.
Thankfully, the rest of your 12 hour shift is uneventful. As you get up to follow Chris to your car, you rub your tired eyes. You still don't know whose clothing you have on your body, but it smells faintly of pomegranate and deep velvet. With two fingers pointed at you, Wesker catches your eye and beckons you into his office.
"Yes, Captain?"
"Sit. How do you feel? No longer shaking like a leaf I see."
"I'm fine, sir. This is definitely not how I imagined my first day."
You sit on the wooden chair before Wesker's desk, watching as the older man rummages through drawers. A small bottle of finely aged whiskey and two shot glasses are set on his desk with a soft clink.
"Tradition, little Red."
Wesker explained, pouring you both two fingers of the bronze liquid in each glass. Chris stifled a laugh from where he waited for you by the door. You knew exactly why, you didn't really drink. And when you did, it was something light and fruity. The complete opposite of the glass before you.
You nod, taking the glass before hesitating. Should you really drink with your boss, even if you aren't on the clock. As if sensing your hesitation, Wesker makes an obvious show of turning his chair away from you before downing his glass. You nod slightly before doing the same, coughing at the sharp burn. As you stand to leave, you catch an amused smirk flit across his face as he collects the glasses. His smooth voice stops you before you can make it out the door.
"I'm sure you'll make me proud. After all, you are one of mine now."
You nod before following your older brother out the door. Chris laughs as he takes in your disheveled appearance with a teasing grin on his face.
"Storms and spirits. What a first day. I'll be sure to keep a close eye on you, little sis."
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icarusdescending7 · 9 months ago
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Aquamarine - Chapter 3
Ao3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Your fiancé died seven years ago, and you joined the military in his wake to fill the void his death put on you. Now, you work with the 141 for an assignment, hunting associates of their enemies.
Their Lieutenant, however, given you an uneasy feeling. You have a vague sense of familiarity with him, but from where?
-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-☆-
You sighed as you stared up at the ceiling, replaying the day's events over and over. What a… stressful first day. First, the other Lieutenant doesn’t like you, then the gift your fiancé gave you breaks, and you get the shards in your hand and have to have Soap help you pull them out. What a mess. You clenched your hand a little, sighing at the feeling of the wounds splitting open. These are the days you wish he were still- you need to stop thinking about him. He’s dead and gone. In the past. If only it were that simple. But it is that simple. It really isn’t. It is. It’s not.
You rolled over, glancing at the clock, and sighed— 1 am. You buried your face into the pillows and immediately relaxed. Your brow furrowed for only a moment before you fell asleep. The smell of citrus and cedar lulled you away to the best sleep you’d known in years.
~~
You were lying on the ground, a thick dust clouding up around you as you struggled to regain your senses, the sound of thundering boots approaching you, grabbing you by your vest, and attempting to pull you up. Keyword: attempting. You were quickly dropped as a red mist hit your cheek, the hulking man before you with a newfound hole in his head. He collapsed on top of you, and you were quick to shove his corpse off, the drop shaking you back to reality.
“Too close, Ghost.” You grumbled into your earpiece, wiping the blood off your face with the back of your hand. You recovered your rifle and shouldered it, moving to take cover.
“You’re getting sloppy. Did you eat when we told you to?” He asked, another gunshot coming over his mic. “I have a feeling you didn’t. I can see it, in the way you’re shaking.” He said, a hint of annoyance in his voice— which wasn’t lost on you.
“I meant that you almost got me too with that shot. Did you eat?” You asked, annoyed, “Why do you care? Christ, you sound like my fiancé. Always on my ass about eating…” You mumbled, turning to move forward, finally hitting the door you were trying to get to and shooting the lock off. You swapped to your sidearm, dropping low as you entered, waiting for Soap to catch up.
“What, we can’t be concerned for our teammate's health?” Soap’s voice came in over the comms, breathless like he’d been running. “We cannae do a ton with you operatin’ at fifty percent, can we?” He slipped in through the door, giving Ghost an indirect thumbs-up as he did.
“Right, because me being a little hungry is so much worse than you dodging bullets at every opportunity you get.” You rolled your eyes, looking at him. “Look at you, you’re covered in scrapes and gashes… Ghost, you got our six while we’re in here?” You asked, poking your head out and looking for the glint of his scope.
It takes him a minute to respond, then a raspy “Yeah, got an eye out.” rung in your ears.
~
“Soap! You done planting those C4 yet? We got to get the fuck outta here!” You shouted, ripping the hard drives and USB sticks from the computers you found, hoping something might be useful beyond what you were sent after. You quickly shoved it all in your pack, running down the hall and dipping into the room he sat in.
“Yeah, lass! Let’s go!” He said, grabbing your arm and dragging you along as fast as possible to get out. At some point, you ended up in a fireman carry over his shoulder, being shaken about as he ran like a bat out of hell. You let it happen, not trying to run when you could barely see straight.
He dropped you on the ground face down, a puff of dirt kicking up around you. You got up on your knees, shrugging your pack off your shoulders, and flopped onto your back, trying to cool your pulse. You were shaking like a leaf. No, you didn’t eat. Before you could fully recover, your pack was snatched off the ground by Soap and you were quickly picked up by Ghost, who carried you much more delicately if not a bit tight— bridal style. The three of you booked it, the sound of trucks rumbling on the dirt path, getting closer with each second.
After an hour of running, the three of you finally settled in a dense patch of woods, taking a moment to breathe. Before you could think, they both shoved energy bars in your face, their expressions mildly annoyed.
“Eat.” Ghost nearly demanded, opening the bar and shoving it in your mouth when you went to protest. “I’m done carryin’ your ass around.” He huffed, leaning back against a tree and closing his eyes.
Soap closed his eyes, also leaning against a tree. “Where are we, now? We must’ve missed evac by a mile by now.” He sighed, pulling a satellite GPS out of his bag. “Sorry, two miles.”
You finished eating the bar that Ghost gave you, swallowing the last bite. You took Soaps GPS, fiddling with it for a moment before locking it on a clearing about 4 miles north of you. “We could make our way there, send the coords to Watcher?” You offered, handing it over to him and plucking the other energy bar from his hand.
He showed Ghost the suggested route, shrugging. “Could work.” Ghost only nodded, sighing a bit.
~
The car ride was quiet except for the grumble of the vehicle and the occasional bump making stuff roll across the steel floors. Soap had fallen asleep at some point and was snoring loudly, and you were fighting to stay awake.
“You should sleep.” Ghost's voice broke through the silence, making you jump a little.
“Don’t want to.” You said, looking at what you could see of him. It was dark in the cabin, so all but that creepy mask of his was in shadows. “You’re creepy.”
“So I’ve heard. You gonna fight sleep the whole way or…?” He questioned, turning to look at you. “If you don’t sleep now you won't get any until we get back to base.”
“I’ll sleep when I want to. Are you gonna sleep, or do you have the whole ‘I don’t sleep mehmehmeh’ vibe going on?” You asked, your joke making him huff in amusement.
“I don’t sleep. Not when I’m in the field.” He said, “Just sleep. You’re clearly fighting it, there's no use.” His hand came up to make you lean back to rest. You could only grumble before succumbing to sleep, your head lolling from the back of the seat over to his shoulder, despite the awkward distance between you two.
~~
He watched you as you raked the leaves from your yard into a pile, your focus waning slightly as you hit the same spot for the third time now. Simon went out, taking the rake from your hands and making you take a break.
“Did you eat, sweetheart? You look dizzy.” He asked, making you look up at him. Your eyes were unconcentrated, making him frown. “That’s a no. Go inside, love. I’ll finish up.” He kissed your forehead, sending you on your way.
“Was gonna finish this then do that, but sure, okay.” You grumbled, gently touching the spot where he kissed you. “Are there leftovers from breakfast?”
“Yeah. Go eat those. I’ll be in after a bit.” He called over his shoulder.
You went in and heated up the breakfast you made, taking the plate to the couch and watching him from the window. He’s so kind that you find it hard to believe that he’s a soldier. But then again, it was easy to believe he was a soldier. The scars across his arms and neck and face told all kinds of stories. Not ones you knew, of course, he would never in a million years tell you his tales of war. You were too precious to him, and he feared that you’d fear him instead of love him if you knew the horrors he witnessed and contributed to. But you knew. Even if they were vague hints and words of the ghosts that haunt him. You’d had to ground him from PTSD flashbacks on more than one occasion, and they were never pretty. After each and every one, he’d apologize, hold you close, call you his “pretty girl” and “love of my life”. He’d worry about making you go through that with him, even though you never minded.
You broke out of your trance when he sat his hand on your shoulder, making you turn up to look at him. His cheeks were rosy from the chill of the autumn air, and his hair was messy from his stocking cap. You sat up on the couch, pulling him to eye level and examining his face. You ran your fingers over scars you’d memorized, then found a new one.
“You have a new scar. How’d you get this one?” You asked, knowing you wouldn’t get a straight answer. You ran your fingers over it, bringing him closer to kiss it.
“A battle. Like most of the other scars. Nothin’ you need to worry about” He answered quietly. He leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours. “You don’t have to fuss over every new scar, you know.”
“Maybe not, but is that going to stop me? No. I need you to know that I love you, even with all your battle wounds.” You hummed, closing your eyes.
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room-surprise · 6 months ago
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So cool! Excerpts:
Founded in 427 CE, Nalanda is considered the world's first residential university, a sort of medieval Ivy League institution home to nine million books that attracted 10,000 students from across Eastern and Central Asia. They gathered here to learn medicine, logic, mathematics and – above all – Buddhist principles from some of the era's most revered scholars.
Monarchs of the Gupta Empire that founded the Buddhist monastic university were devout Hindus, but sympathetic and accepting towards Buddhism and the growing Buddhist intellectual fervour and philosophical writings of the time. The liberal cultural and religious traditions that evolved under their reign would form the core of Nalanda's multidisciplinary academic curriculum, which blended intellectual Buddhism with a higher knowledge in different fields. 
Aryabhata, considered the father of Indian mathematics, is speculated to have headed the university in the 6th Century CE. "We believe that Aryabhata was the first to assign zero as a digit, a revolutionary concept, which simplified mathematical computations and helped evolve more complex avenues such as algebra and calculus," said Anuradha Mitra, a Kolkata-based professor of mathematics. "Without zero, we wouldn't have computers," she added. "He also did pioneering works in extracting square and cubic roots, and applications of trigonometrical functions to spherical geometry. He was also the first to attribute radiance of the moon to reflected sunlight." 
The library's nine million handwritten, palm-leaf manuscripts was the richest repository of Buddhist wisdom in the world, and one of its three library buildings was described by Tibetan Buddhist scholar Taranatha as a nine-storey building "soaring into the clouds".
History is so fucking cool. I love stumbling across articles that teach me incredible details about things I only knew about in a very general sense (there were important centers of learning in India!). Learning mundane things like "universities have always had students sharing rooms" is just fascinating to me.
One of the small rooms that lined the courtyard where students from as far away as Afghanistan lived. Two alcoves facing each other were meant to hold oil lamps and personal belongings, and Singh explained that the small, square-shaped hollow near the entrance of the cell served as each student's personal letterbox. 
How cool is that!!!
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icon-cloud · 1 year ago
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Rats, Ghouls and Trikes
This was a prompt given to me by @sister-nyx. and I may have written it in about two hours with a small dinner break and a melatonin dose in between said two hours. I haven't proof read this. But I hope you can look past that and enjoy a small snippet. -A very tired Cloud.
ps-It will be proofed. just not at the moment. Emphasis on the melatonin, sorry.
Update! It has been proofed =3
Includes: Fluff, but also there's hurt
WC: 1,047
Honestly, you would think they would stop trying to lecture him about where he chooses to ride within the corridors. It isn’t as if he was going to listen to them. Who do they think they are trying to get him to stop? Damnit, he is papa. He doesn’t have to listen to any of them! He just chooses to listen to the Imperator. That doesn’t mean he has to listen to even her! He thought huffily as he stood waiting for the Sister to leave the corridor before getting back atop his squeaky tricycle. 
Carefully, he peddled forward. Occasionally looking behind him to make sure the witch hadn’t poked her head back in his direction. Soon he took off and began pedaling as fast as he could on his chosen vehicle. 
Pillars soon seemed to blend into the gray marbled background of the monastery in his attempt to stop thinking, just for a little while. He didn’t often get to do this anymore. Not with all the paperwork that needed signing, or with him needing to help plan the next tour. He just wanted to leave everything behind for a small moment. 
Riding around had always been a form of escapism for him. He remembered being a small child, back when he properly fit on his tricycle, how he would use it as a way to get away from his assigned nurses. All they wanted him to do was be still. Finish his Latin notes, to, “For Lucifers fucking sake! Stop using your left hand.” Followed by a whistle and a sharp pain in his hand. 
They would usually leave him at that point. Let him lick his wounds. Before long, he would run for his little tricycle and pedal as far as he could to the opposite wing without being stopped. He got pretty fast too. 
Disgruntled, Copia frowned. Reminiscing wasn’t what he needed right now. It certainly wasn’t what he wanted to be doing either. So, leaning forward he chose to go faster. Ahead he could see a fork in the hall. He was approaching quickly, closer, closer. He decided to drift to the best of his ability and chose the left hallway.
For one ecstatic second, the wind whipped through his hair, and his heart raced. Copia let out a whoop of joy, before his eyes widened and he realized his folly. He couldn't bring himself to utter a sound as he fell through the air towards the rapidly approaching floor. He had forgotten about the stairs, how foolish of him. 
With nothing to do but brace himself, he closed his eyes, stealing his nerves for what was to occur next. But as the world went black and the only thing he could sense was the wind he so loved. Copia’s thoughts stopped on impact as he went unconscious.
Waking up felt… Wrong.
Waking up was annoying to do, but it didn’t feel like wading through mud. It shouldn’t feel fuzzy, like booting up an old computer, turning on in stages. Copia crinkled his eyebrows in an effort to concentrate before opening his eyes, only to squint as bright light stabbed his eyes. 
Opening his eyes again, more prepared this time. He couldn’t help but groan as he took in his surroundings. Thin mattress, white sheet-walls, headache. Oh how lovely it is to be in the Med wing. To wake up to a glaringly pissed off Aether, what a day. 
Grinning sheepishly, he timidly waved a hand to the ghoul; who huffed before saying, “You have a mild concussion Papa. You’re going to have to stay in your room for a few days before returning to your regular schedule. You also aren’t allowed your computer or TV during this time.”
Frowning, he made a noise of discontent before saying, “I take it the Imperator chose to confine me, eh?”
 Aether looked annoyed before replying, “Yea, let's get you set up and comfortable.”
Pouting slightly, Copia cradled Biscuit to his chest and gently stroked his velvety coat to keep him distracted from the impending loneliness he was doomed to experience for the next few days. He smiled at his senior rat when he began to lightly nibble his fingertips before curling up to nap and decided to sleep as well. 
Gently, he coaxed Biscuit from his hand and onto his bed. Before he also laid down and closed his eyes.
It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep. Soon the small room was filled with gentle snores and small grunts as Copia slept peacefully. Over the small snores, however, you could hear a distant shuffle, and it seemed to grow loader as time passed. What had once been a far off skittering, soon morphed into muffled grunts with the occasional exploitative. 
Soon the large grate located in his room had a pair of dim, glowing eyes. Quietly, a small voice whispered behind the floating eyes, “Fucks sake Dew, is it the right vent? We’ve been in hear almost an hour.” 
Squinting in annoyance he replied, “Yea, it’s the right one. Quiet though, he’s sleeping. Aether said to keep him company and let him rest, stop whinging Swiss.” Grasping the grill securely, he whispered back, “Grab my waist so I don't fall,” and steadily pushed until the metal gave in and the grate came off. 
Grinning, Dew looked back to Swiss’ unimpressed face before he said, “You woke him up, dumbass.” 
Wincing Dew turned around to see a smiling Copia before saying, “Hey, Aether sent us. Want some company? Oh! Is that Biscuit?”
Copia looked fondly at his two ghouls before replying, “Company would be nice, and yes. Biscuit wanted to come out and I didn’t have the heart to say no.”
Smirking lightly, the two ghouls jumped out of the air vent and went to lay by Copia’s side. Where they spent the evening talking. Occasionally they played with the different rats and ultimately the day ended with the rats put away, Swiss gently snoring and Copia nodding off. 
Dew grinned at the other two, enjoying the fact that they seemed content and happy to fall asleep. As gentle breathing filled the room, he couldn’t help leaning into the Papa’s cool, compared to his own, warmth and sighed contentedly before falling asleep himself.
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ladyteldra · 1 year ago
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Any Way the River Flows
Alternatively: Help! I've Turned the Scum Villain into a Woman!
Shen Yuan survived the attempt on his life from the expired yogurt with divine intervention called his little sister. She was even kind enough not to make fun of his obsession with PIDW and introduce him to fandom while he recovered.
He does not survive the encounter with Truck-kun.
'System! System, what the fuck?!’ [User was assigned the most suitable host!]
In which Shen Yuan is trans and just as prone to overthinking as ever. There is truly no greater champion at 5D chess, especially against himself.
Preview:
Shen Yuan adjusts his mask as he steps off the bus, fitting it more firmly over his nose. It was a pleasant, if chilly, day and the warmth of his breath quickly steams up his glasses if he’s not careful. The sun was out after several days of cloud cover, leaving crisp blue skies he knew won’t last long, the weather report called for rain in the next few days. 
There was worse weather to have to go out in.
He was returning home from a visit to his doctor. Finally recovering from a severe bout of food poisoning that had laid him out months ago. Too many long nights followed by putting off shopping until the last minute, and then getting distracted by a notification in his email.
Anger wars with shame as he remembers that forsaken ending and the resulting situation. 
Deep breath in, out. 
His doctors have been stressing the need to avoid getting worked up over small things. His sister would never let him live it down if he had another health crisis over that damn novel. 
The only thing worse than how the novel ended was knowing his sister was the one to find him on the floor. Unconscious and apparently dying after ingesting expired yogurt of all things. If she hadn’t decided to check on him that day… if she had waited another week for their planned outing… He doesn’t like to think about what the scene would have been. 
Shen Yuan will always be thankful for her intervention, but would have thought that she was too busy calling emergency services and the family to make note of his computer screen. He apparently wasn’t that lucky.
After berating him for his poor habits - his lack of food in the apartment, missing family dinners, not calling - she brought up exactly what web page happened to be in full view. 
Proud Immortal Demon Way. Popular YY Stallion Novel. Incredibly long. Frequently updated. Absolute trash. The brand new final chapter that was only just released for the paid subscribers.
And the freshly posted comment by one Peerless Cucumber.
She was kind enough to lock his computer and turn off the monitor before the ambulance arrived.
Meimei had read the novel too. Well, at least part of it. 
She had bailed shortly after the resolution of the Abyss plot line. When it moved into less cohesive storyline and plot territory and more into excuse for papapa scene territory.
That’s not to say she dropped the novel and left it all behind, never to think of it again.
No. 
She was kind enough to introduce him to all the amazing sites where dissatisfied fans had taken on the task of exploring the story more thoroughly.
She introduced him to fanfiction. Condescendingly telling him he’d have nothing better to do during his time in the hospital bed. She was right. 
Shen Yuan had, of course, known of fanfiction before. You can’t exist on the internet without having at least heard of it and he’s been to multiple conventions. Fan content is a cornerstone for many of them. He’d spent a good amount of money on unofficial merch.
He just hadn’t seen the point of exploring it before the absolute bomb of a conclusion. These were offshoots of the original, how different could it be?
The answer is very. 
Despite familiar themes and characters, it was like a whole new world.
Every complaint he had as a reader, ones he felt were being shouted into the void, were obviously things that bothered others as well. Dropped plot points were explored in depth. Interesting wives that felt forgotten were given personality and purpose. Innumerable objects of ancient power were given history and context. 
So many delved into the possible political landscapes surrounding the world, how they evolved to where they were the protagonist tore through. Focused on the numerous background characters and villains and gave them motivations and lives that were less one dimensional. Gave those supporting them their own reasons in a world that didn’t just revolve around the protagonist.
Admittedly, his favorites were still ones focused on Lou Binghe. But they gave him more meaning than a revenge driven papapa machine. 
There’s nothing like distance to gain perspective. The entire experience has felt like a gold mine in comparison to the original trash.
The community has been extremely welcoming too.
An unfortunate number of people he interacted with recognize his handle, one he really should have considered changing between platforms in retrospect. It’s one thing when it’s mostly anonymous criticism of terrible stallion novels, quite another when people he’s starting to respect are using it. He should have left it behind in middle school where it belonged, but he’d gotten used to it and so had others. It was branding. And at least not as blatant as Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’s own dick pun. 
The fan authors on the sites are always surprised at Peerless Cucumber’s lack of vitriol when commenting on works, pleasantly so in most cases. He’s been quick to point out that he’s not paying them for their content, so he can’t judge it as if he was and most of them far outstrip the original work in every way already. And those he actually hates? He can just not interact entirely.
He’s also joined a few forums and chat rooms dedicated to the more factual side. Ones focused on helping each other find the obscure pieces of information in the behemoth of original text or getting feedback on their interpretation of passages. Trying to find lost threads that tie together hundreds of chapters apart. 
He’s starting to make a different name for himself there. One not tied to biting critique and scathing reviews, but someone to rely on for quick and accurate information on the beasts from text. He’s being tagged more and more often in posts looking for quick answers on traits and names of obscure beasts that might appear in different locations in the novel. He’s even updated the wiki.
It’s fun. 
He feels like it’s been good for him. A new way to enjoy the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way without all the stress and rage that came with reading the original every time he realized another plot point was being ignored. 
He’s even regularly talking to several others on a regular basis. In a few months, he’ll even be willing to tentatively call them friends. 
Shen Yuan might have, might have, also begun compiling all his answers into a single document for easy access. He may have also started expanding on that information with links between other creatures and what they might be based on. Some blurbs of what could be first hand accounts in the style of journal entries. 
If you want it, write it yourself. Be the change you want to see in the world and all that. The reception of the few entries he’d shared had been positive. Enough to make him want to keep going
There might also be a slowly growing assortment of artistic interpretations of what those creatures would look like.
Meimei is the only one that’s seen the drawings and she’s given her seal of approval. He’s not drawn since his burnout from school. It was good to know he hadn’t lost all his hard won skill. His mother can never be allowed to know. She’d been giving him sad eyes to pick up drawing back up for years. If she knew that all it took was a shitty novel…
He very carefully doesn’t think about the also growing assortment of figure studies as he’s reread the beginning text.
Well, she’d probably just be happy it happened at all.
Shen Yuan stops before the next crosswalk, red. He rubs some circulation back into hands before pulling out his phone to check his emails. He can’t get too engrossed, everyone else is on the other side of the street for once, so he can’t use people moving around him as a prompt. But he can at least check to see if he’s been tagged in anything recently. It’s good to start formulating a response ahead of time if he can, or at least know how much is waiting for him.
If he’s lucky, there might even be some updates to look forward to when he gets home. He follows more than a few that use his contributions.
His email hasn’t even finished loading when the screech of tires causes him to look up in alarm. 
It’s a truck.
Swerving towards him. 
‘I’m not even on the crosswalk, yet.” 
Read more here.
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