#&. / ⋆ amongst the disarrayed lies completion. ┊ answered.

[diamondborn]

"I'm wearin' you down aren't I princess?" (college au)

unprompted feat. yulyssa    /   ALWAYS ACCEPTING !!

                  &&.  that's how it started  ,  the nickname princess that spoke from his lips  .  the first part of the question wasn't caught due to the music of the just dance game blaring ,  so the level of awkwardness of your answer was sure to break the scale  .   turning on onyx heels  ,  your lips couldn't contain the call of father's name ————  it was natural instinct at this point.  

‘  ————   daddy  ?  ’  but it was yusuke who was standing in the room with you  ,  not the government worker.  

instantly  ,  cheeks burn and crimson covers your face  ,  which was palmed by your hand in sheer embarassment .  a muffled holy fuck slipping out .  maybe it wasn't too late to dig your own grave and lay in it.  ‘  I . . .  oh my god  ,  I really just said that.  wh —— what are ya'on about  ?  what happened  ?   ’  the questions come out scrambled and rapid - fired ,  it's clear how flustered you've become .  

you're not living this down.

[blushnote]

Can you write something where it’s virgin!reader and virgin!Dino’s first Time together and y’all are really nervous??

↳ requested | 4.8k words

↳ chan smut

a/n: so this is the fic that i thought i accidentally lost forever lmao. thankfully, i was able to salvage it (god bless). anyways, i kind of… got carried away with this request. first time smuts are some of my favourite to read since i love soft moments like this. i’ve never written one (and chan fits this perfectly), so i really wanted to do it justice :) i hope you enjoy! 

the situation is set up a little too perfectly. chan’s parents aren’t home – they’re away for the week, vacationing in the warm tropics while it’s rain and snow back in their homeland. you’ve been to chan’s house numerous times in the past, but this time it just feels different. even sitting on his bed has a certain pressure about it; your heart beats fast enough to tell you that.

there’s a movie playing on the television, though neither of you have payed significant attention to it. that’s usually what happens when you’re alone in his bedroom anyways, except his parents have always occupied the house, dissuading you from attempting anything further than a timid make-out session. but now that they’re gone, neither of you can resist each other.

you’re straddling chan’s lap with a palm resting on the back of his neck, while his hands slide further and further up your thighs. your mouth is swollen and glossy, thoroughly cleaned of any cherry lip balm you applied beforehand. though it feels dirty to admit, you love when chan pushes his tongue deep into your mouth and there’s saliva glistening on each other’s lips.

it’s getting quite dark outside, and the sky is nearly the same colour as cinders. the only practical light glows from the television. you can’t help but squeal when chan glides his hands beneath your soft thighs and hauls you closer toward him. he places you right on top of something in his sweats, something hard that pokes right against your core and makes you hot.

this wasn’t your first time experiencing chan’s erection. he was still quite young and hormonal, and you’d often feel him harden against your backside if you were spooning or against your ass when you sat in his lap. you weren’t at that stage in your relationship where you felt capable of taking care of him, and chan would always blush like a summertime rose when it happened.

he’d have to fix the problem on his own, which usually resulted in him slinking off to the bathroom – not that it helped you any. having to hear the distant slapping of his wrist, his high-pitched little whines he desperately tried to muffle, you’d end up just as aroused as him. but things are different tonight. you think you’re ready to progress, even if it scares you.

you and chan break apart, taking a moment to catch your breath. he looks so pretty; even in the darkness you can see the faint splotches of pink on his cheeks and the saliva that wets his bruising mouth. he shifts slightly, and his length presses right against your core through your thin pyjama shorts. you bite your bottom lip hard to suppress the moan that would’ve escaped.

chan sees you look down, and he starts worrying immediately.

“i-i’m sorry,” he stutters, “we don’t have to do this – i just, i don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. i’ll take care of it myse—”

as chan grips your hips and starts to guide you off his lap, you surprise yourself at how quickly you protest. even chan seems somewhat startled.

“no! i… i – i don’t want you to take care of it by yourself…” you mumble, desperately trying to subdue your nervous energy as you meet chan’s gaze, “i want to like… do it, with you. y’know?”

“uhm…” chan gulps thickly and immediately casts a hand through his black hair. his eyes are shiny and wide in the dimness. “you wanna have sex?”

a small, timid smile curls upon your lips. “y-yeah,” you breathe out, your hands slightly shaky on chan’s broad shoulders, “i think i’m ready… what about you?”

chan squeezes your hips. he looks down, incredibly flustered at first, but then he chuckles. this is something you have both thought of time and time again, and chan bravely admits to it.

“yeah, i really want to,” he says while raising his head to lock eyes with you, “i think about it way too much already, m-more than i should…”

“same.” you tell him, suddenly experiencing a flash flood of memories at the back of your skull, primarily each time you’d pleasured yourself while imagining what chan’s length would feel like buried deep inside you. from the way chan is already antsy and squirming, you know he’s reeling with likewise thoughts, and in an empathetic way, it seems to soothe you.

you start kissing again, much slower, but with an unbeknownst passion that feels something like love. your fingertips brush through chan’s hair, allowing the silk to slip between each digit. his hands fall on your lower back. evidently, they want to move further south, though chan is still fighting his own shyness; however, once you experimentally roll your hips, he can’t help it.

chan reaches for your ass and tightly squeezes your flesh in his hands, almost a silent plea for you to repeat the sensual rhythm of your hips. consequently, you begin grinding down on his clothed erection, feeling its prominent outline push against your clit, making you shiver. you don’t stop either, you continue the hypnotic motion, desperately searching for more pleasure, and chan gets so overwhelmed that he accidently bites down too hard on your bottom lip.

“ow…” you mumble against his mouth, your hips coming to a still.

“sorry,” chan squeaks before blinking apologetically at you, his brown eyes glistening, “i-it just, it feels so good when you do that.”

“that’s why i was doing it.” you giggle, and chan instantly blushes.

there’s a heavy pause, but then the boy suddenly proposes something.

“do you wanna turn on the light? or no?”

your fingers pluck at a small, white fluff on chan’s shoulder. “do people actually have sex in the dark?” you ask as though he would have the answer.

“dunno,” he responds, giving a shrug, “but the TV isn’t really cutting it.”

you two intercept the heated make out to perform some adjustments. when chan gets up to flick the light switch on the wall, you search for the remote amongst the sea of his navy blue covers to turn the TV volume down. while you sit on the bed, you finally realize just how wet you are. peeking down at your flimsy, awfully thin pyjama shorts, there’s already a damp spot.

but when you look at chan, that pulsating sensation between your thighs only worsens. his thick, black hair is pushed back from his forehead, slightly disheveled and sticking out in different directions. his cheeks are dusted pink, and his pretty lips are bitten and bright. you can’t help but note how he strains through his sweatpants. you feel dizzy, like you’re on fire.

you almost hate that he’s so broad: his shoulders, his chest, his muscles, you’ve never wanted to touch someone else this badly. when chan returns to the bed, your position changes. he lies overtop of you with an arm next to your head, his lips pressing soft, open-mouth kisses down your neck, occasionally digging in his teeth, leaving indents and bruises on your warm skin.

he arrives at the swell of your chest, where you’re positive he can hear just how sporadically your heart thunders. sitting back on his haunches, chan fiddles with the hem of your shirt.

“can i take it off?” he asks quietly.

you pause for a second, realizing you’re not wearing a bra. you usually didn’t when you came to chan’s house, mostly for comfort reasons when you were lying down watching movies.

not allowing yourself time to overthink, you nod, “o-okay.”

as chan starts pushing your shirt up your stomach, you can feel your heartbeat in every part of your body. this incredible concoction of nerves boils your blood. no one has ever seen you like this, in this complete vulnerability and bareness. after chan helps you remove the shirt from over your head, the cold air immediately strikes your skin like a winter wind. your arm jerks, wanting to cover your chest instinctually and protectively, but you fight to keep it down.

chan drops the shirt onto the floor. he does nothing apart from stare at your breasts, your exposed skin, and you swear you can see his pupils dilate.

“g-god,” he stumbles over his words, “y-you’re so beautiful.”

he smooths his hand up your right side, etching closer toward your heaving chest. your mouth has gotten as dry as the desert. chan probably feels your pulse under his fingertips.

“can i touch you, baby?” he whispers.

your eyes feel glassy and hot. upon nodding your head, chan cups your right breast in his hand. his thumb tenderly brushes back and forth over the perked nipple, to which your countenance crinkles at the gentle feeling. he squeezes too, always flitting between your chest and facial expressions in order to gauge your reaction. you take deep breaths to keep yourself relaxed.

chan leans down. while his hand tends to your right breast, his lips press kisses against the other, until he becomes more adventurous and starts to slowly swirl his tongue around your nipple. you release a quiet, soft sigh, one that encourages chan to continue his ministrations. he suckles the perked skin between his lips while he massages your other breast with more vigor.

eventually, chan pulls away from your chest, somewhat breathless, and smiles. “i-i like making you feel good,” he says, “you sound really pretty when you moan.”

“thank you,” comes your squeak of a reply. you almost can’t make eye contact with him when you request: “channie, can we take off your shirt too?”

the material soon lands on the floor next to your own shirt. chan brushes back some of his disarrayed hairs with his hand, only to see you shuffle up slightly, using your elbows as support. chan shivers when your touch glides up his side to his chest, where your thumb draws circles overtop the atrium of his heart. you squeeze his right bicep too, feeling how hard the muscle is.

he’s incredibly bashful. the moment you massage your fingers against his nipple, chan releases a high-pitched, sensitive whimper. he slumps forward into you, glowing with embarrassment, though his hips begin to hump gently against the lower part of your abdomen out of pure and venereal instinct. cupping his face, you make out again in a sloppy but passionate fashion.

in between kisses, you murmur against his mouth, “i need you so bad, i-it hurts.”

the constant thrumming between your thighs continues to worsen. it’s gotten to a point where your underwear is sticking persistently to your own arousal, and it’s becoming uncomfortable. chan’s fingers hook into the waistband of your pyjama shorts, but you both struggle in coordinating, and he has to sit back in order to help you slide them fully off.

they land somewhere near the end of the bed. when chan turns his gaze back to you, this immense surge of heat swelters throughout your entire body and you can’t stop yourself from squirming and fidgeting. your heartbeat hammers against your throat. the only thing that separates him from your core is the black, dampened underwear you’re wearing.

chan gulps tightly before asking in a small voice, “ca-can i eat you out? i really wanna try it.”

your fingers thread into the navy bedsheets underneath you, clutching fistfuls of the fabric.

“okay.” you squeak in compliance.

nothing has ever felt so electrifying, and you almost can’t fathom that this is finally happening. the butterflies churn wickedly in your stomach as chan leans down and closes his eyes, pressing kisses just above the lace waistline of your underwear. his fingers hook through the black material, and little by little, chan begins pulling the undergarment down your legs. once they’re discarded, it hits you in one big gust just how exposed you are. your entire body is on display.

chan furrows his brow when he sees that your legs are bent, with your thighs squeezed together tightly. you’re biting down hard on your bottom lip, breathing in as deep as possible to calm your raucous, wild heart. chan sets his hand on your knee and moves closer to you.

“are you okay?” chan asks, observing how your fingers sink straight into the bedsheets.

“y-yeah,” you stutter, and swallow thickly before meeting his empathetic gaze, “everything still feels so new. i’m really nervous.”

chan leans down, placing a sweet kiss to your forehead, then another to your lips.

“i’m nervous too,” he says earnestly, his hand moving to stroke your stomach, “it’s our very first time? how could we not be?”

a timid smile breaks across your mouth, and you nod your head.

“i won’t ever touch you in places you don’t want me to,” chan’s tone adapts a more serious nuance, though his words comfort you immensely, “i wouldn’t ever make you feel less of yourself, baby. i only want to do whatever makes you feel good, and loved.”

staring into chan’s eyes, experiencing their softness and ardent compassion, you almost want to cry in the tenderness of the moment. no one has ever ignited such a sense of safety within you, where you feel that your trust is unbreakable. despite you both being nervous, bubbling wrecks, you can’t describe the appreciation you feel for chan as he solaces you.

consequently, you begin to relax. you part your legs and slightly drop the bend in your knees, the bedroom air feeling cool against your slick, warm flesh.

“i need you to touch me, channie, please,” you nearly plead to him, “i trust you.”

the boy attempts to get comfortable between your legs, though he becomes exponentially distracted the second he lays eyes on your core. his breath hitches in his throat, sharp and loud, to which your entire face splits into flame. you want to gauge his reactions, but you’re also embarrassed and still a little shy. chan uses his two thumbs to pull your slippery folds apart.

“y-you’re so wet, so pretty too…” he nearly slurs his words upon examining the gloss that coats your slit, how your eager bud swells and pulses in need of stimulation.

experimentally, chan presses down softly on your clit with his thumb, massaging the bud in circles. he doesn’t know how much pressure is too much or too little, so he looks to you for direction; however, you can hardly cough a word out. just to have chan touch you – it already feels unlike anything in the universe. you sense his hand shaking a little, but he performs well.

“does it feel good?” chan asks as he continues to rub his thumb.

“mmhm.” you hum while pulling up on the bedsheets.

it isn’t until chan places a long, slow lick from your opening to your clit that your body seems to adapt a will of its own. your head tilts back against the plump pillow, and your chest arches high into the air. he’s very cautious in his movement, not wanting to inflict any harm, and continues licking you with a particular softness and attentivity. one of your hands can’t help but thread through his black hair to tug minimally on the strands, and chan moans into your core.

in reaction to the sudden vibration, you release a small cry. chan already seems to be developing his own technique. though he listens for any direction you may give him, you don’t even think it’s possible for you to speak. the sensation of his soft, wet tongue lapping with more firmness at your clit overwhelms you with an electrifying pleasure. there’s a distinct pressure that expands in your abdomen, warm and fluttering, a pressure that makes you get teary-eyed.

“ch-chan,” you manage to whimper while your hips buck quickly against his face, “it’s tt-too much, m’gonna cc-cum, m’gonna cc– cum!”

you don’t know what force in your body compelled you to do so, but gently you push chan’s head away. his mouth detaches from your swollen core, and it’s a horrible, horrible feeling, especially as you retreat from a wondrous high that was just above the horizon. however, you want to climax with chan buried deep inside of you. he’s breathing heavily, and licks his lips.

“did i hurt you?” he inquires instantly.

“n-no,” you reply while getting onto your elbows and feeling the sweat glimmer across your forehead, “it felt so good, too good. and i just want to cum with you inside me, t-that’s all…”

chan nods. “yeah, of course.”

you can’t even begin to imagine how much his length must be aching behind his sweatpants. in fact, you happen to spot a small wet mark, probably where some of his cum had leaked through when he was eating you out. your mouth starts watering, and you want to slap yourself for thinking so dirtily. before anything progresses, you have to make sure there’s protection.

“please say you have condoms in here or something.”

chan laughs, and cards a hand through his messy hair.

“i do actually. they’re in the first drawer on the nightstand, under the tissue box.”

you lean over to open the compartment. sure enough, once you lift the box you see the line of silver foils. tearing the last one off, you close the drawer and examine the shiny packaging, realizing you’ve never even held a condom before. chan chuckles at your curiosity, to which you smile at him. this is really happening, and you’re nearly shaking in nerves and excitement.

“well…” chan says, “guess we shouldn’t beat around the bush, huh?”

“i guess not.” you respond coyly, and look off to the side once chan stands from the bed and gets ready to pull down his waistband.

except, you can’t not look, and your gaze is immediately drawn to chan’s crotch as he slides down his sweatpants, his boxers following suit. something molten melts into the pit of your abdomen, and you suddenly develop a hard pulse at the apex of your thighs. as chan steps out from his clothes and kicks them away, you can hardly breathe. his length is hard against his stomach, shaded a purplish colour near the head and leaking with pearls of cum.

he sets one knee on the bed, and gestures you for to hand him the foil packet, though you’re in such a trance you almost don’t note his beckoning hand.

“wait.” you pipe up, and chan tilts his head. you lick your dry lips, your heart pressing sharply against your ribs as you ask, “can i try something?”

chan’s face is glowing like a peach, but he nods his head anyways.

you move a bit closer to him, until his length hovers a few inches from your face. some of the veins protrude clearly from the shaft, travelling toward the sensitive head. you aren’t really sure what you’re doing as you wrap your palm just below the flushed tip, and you poorly hide your surprise of how hard chan is, almost like a rock. using your thumb, you brush back and forth over his slit, smearing the cream. you feel his member suddenly twitch in your hand.

“i-i don’t know what i’m doing.” you confess, and gaze up at chan through your lashes.

“that feels good,” chan tells you, “the tip is really sensitive though, baby. i-if you keep rubbing your thumb like that, i’ll cum really fast.”

chan suddenly shifts his palm over top of yours, then, he guides you on what to do by gently pumping each other’s hands.

“l-like this,” he instructs as you glide up and down his shaft, “you can build the pace too. it doesn’t have to be this slow.”

“o-okay,” you utter quietly, transfixed by the hypnotizing motion.

chan eventually takes his own guide away and allows you to give him an experimental hand job. he makes sure you don’t pump too quickly, or else he fears he might blow his load right onto your face. you can’t evade your curiosity. as more of the white substance beads at chan’s slit, you decide to lean forward, lapping your tongue against his tip to collect a sustainable taste.

the action clearly arouses chan. his hips buck forward and a stuttered moan breaks off his lips, a thick haze developing in his eyes upon watching you place your lips around his head. you suckle softly, even swirl your tongue, and the boy has to grab you by the hair to pull you off.

“fuck, baby,” chan curses, “m’definitely gonna cum if you do that. i’m too sensitive right now.”

you apologize to chan, though he assures you everything is fine. he gets his hands on the silver foil and rips it open, tossing the crumpled packaging onto the nightstand. chan slides the condom on with surprising ease, and you almost wonder if he’s practiced before. but when the foreplay is done, it dawns on you that there’s nothing in the way of the actual sex.

once you spend a few minutes getting comfortable on the bed, chan ensures you spread your legs wide so he has enough room and light to see what he’s doing. you stare up at the white ceiling while inhaling slow, deep breaths, your hands folded across your tummy. in the background, you manage to hear the dull buzz of the television that still plays the movie.

you can even hear the snow and rain pattering against the windows.

“okay,” chan hums, getting your attention, “i’m gonna start pushing in now.”

he examines your face closely, looking for any sign of doubt or unhidden fear.

“chan,” you chirp while shuffling onto your elbows, “i-i know this might seem weird, but… do you know if it’ll hurt? does that only happen if i’m not…. like, wet enough?”

“i think so,” chan agrees, “but there might be other reasons, like position, or if you’re struggling to relax.” his expression softens, and he starts rubbing circles into your thighs. “i promise, if you feel like you need me to stop, i’ll stop. i’ll be gentle, baby, okay?” he then leans forward and places a reassuring kiss on your lips, prompting you to smile.

“just breathe, alright?” chan reminds you.

once chan starts pushing inside your opening, there’s a definite stretch that your body registers. it’s not exactly painful, just somewhat uncomfortable, but not to a degree that can’t be handled. there’s a persistent mewling that trembles from your lips, to which chan leans overtop you, his elbows braced next to your head in order to kiss you and comfort you.

you reach for his waist, your nails fleshing into his warm skin as chan continues to press himself deeper inside of you. his body is trembling, and you can tell he wants to start thrusting.

“i-it stings.” you whimper, staring through a blurry film into chan’s eyes.

“s-should i s-stop?” the boy immediately questions, his hips already stilling, but you shake your head in disagreement. the sting is slowly beginning to subside anyways.

when chan is completely situated within your heat, you can hardly process anything, not even your own fleeting thoughts. you almost feel as though you’re caught in a dreamlike state, where everything is hazy apart from certain attributes, such as chan’s length throbbing deep inside of you. there’s an inconceivable fullness you can hardly articulate. the new sensation is totally overwhelming, and you can feel the liquid salt surge and push against your tear ducts.

chan is clearly overwhelmed too. his head buries into the crook of your neck, and his arms shiver next to your head. he’s burning with the desire to begin thrusting his hips. your heat can’t even compare to his own hand. the manner in which you unconsciously squeeze around him is cosmic. however, he forces himself to wait until you’re ready for movement.

“you st-still okay?” chan stutters after raising his head from your gleaming skin.

“it fe-feels weird, but g-good weird” you tell him, “m’so full, channie.”

chan nods. “ye-yeah. you’re really w-warm inside. really t-tight n’soft. you feel perfect, baby.”

you confirm that it’s okay for chan to begin moving. he makes sure his motions are slow, carefully drawing out his hips until about halfway before gently thrusting into you. you feel the head of his length brush something sponge-like against your walls. he clenches his fists, and you can see how his biceps tense. no doubt he’s attempting to control himself. you grab onto his shoulders as chan begins picking up his rhythm. he thrusts just a little bit harder.

“s-stop—” you find yourself squeaking, and chan immediately freezes.

“fuck,” he grunts, cupping the side of your face with his palm, “d-did i hurt you? i’m so sorry, baby, i shouldn’t have went any harder—,”

“no, no, you didn’t hurt me,” you laugh a bit breathlessly, “i-it’s just, you t-touched something in me, and it doesn’t feel good… do you think i can move down a little bit?”

chan strokes your cheek and plants a small kiss on your nose.

“of course. are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“i’m sure.” you reply, giving him a tiny smile.

after some adjustment, you’re tremendously more comfortable with the new position. though it takes a couple minutes to regain your earlier pace, everything falls back into plan and chan resumes thrusting into you. this time, it feels wonderful, and your flesh starts to warm with these unprecedented waves of pleasure, which are sort of tingly and resonate profoundly.

but then the head of chan’s length pushes directly into this one pliant, extremely sensitive spot, and your entire world goes black. your eyes squeeze shut like an iron curtain and your chest arches against chan’s. the shock that melted throughout your body was an insane sense of pleasure. suddenly, chan ticks that spot again, and you claw down his back in a gigantic moan.

“ri-right there!” you exclaim while pushing your head back into the pillow, “f-feels ss-so good! pl-please, chan—nnfg—more!”

you’re breathing becomes increasingly laboured as chan continues to brush against that perfect spot. in consequence, your walls clamp down tightly around his aching member, making it difficult for chan to maintain his pace when he’s about to burst into the condom. in fact, the warmth and enveloping silk of your walls is too much, and chan cries out loudly as he can no longer withdraw his urges. he empties into the condom, feeling your nails sink into his back.

but he keeps thrusting, keeps pressing himself fully inside of you until the pressure cannot be maintained any longer and the euphoria collapses. you almost feel paralyzed as the pleasure courses throughout your entire body, your jaw unhinged in a high-pitched, gasp of a moan, a sound that you didn’t even know you could make.

the tears pump down your face, slipping past your cheeks and feeling notably cold against your neck. your legs had wrapped around chan’s waist, keeping him fleshed inside you, right to hilt in order to ride out your intense orgasm. chan still feels your gentle contractions hug his length, and he wishes that blissful feeling would last forever.

you heave in exhaustion, your bodies aglow with a thin film of sweat, surrounded by air that smells like sex while it rains and snows beyond the window. chan rests his forehead on top of your own. you catch his tender stare for a split second, just before he’s kissing you with any energy he has remaining, to which your fingers run through his dampened, black hair.

“i-i love you, so much, ” he pants softly against your lips, “a-and thank you for sharing every part of yourself with me. really, you’re the most beautiful thing i’ve ever known.”

unable to bear the sincerity and earnest love of chan’s gaze, you sniffle back your tears, though you brush the side of his face with your hand in adoration.

“d-don’t say that,” you swallow tightly, your eyes stinging, “i’m gonna cry even more.”

“sorry,” chan laughs, still a little breathless, “but it’s true.”

you nod your head while slightly shifting your hips, recognizing that chan remains burrowed inside your heat. for some reason, the closeness comforts you to an extent you can’t articulate, and you yearn to stay in such a position of safety and solace forever.

“t-thank you,” you speak in a saccharine tone, “i love you too, channie.”

as the night progresses, you take the time to shower and change the sheets on chan’s bed. though you brought your own overnight bag, you still wear a t-shirt that chan had in his closet alongside a fresh pair of underwear. as chan dries his body with a new towel, you’re leaning over the sink with a toothbrush in your mouth, in which you spit out the minty foam.

after grabbing the television remote and shutting off the light, you both return to chan’s bed, where you relax between his legs, your back against his chest. you play some random movie that sounds like it’ll be decent, and spend the rest of the night in each other’s company, not wanting to separate from the other’s gentle strokes or soft exchange kisses for even a moment.

as long as you have each other, everything feels more than perfect.

[glossyeon]

natm || pt. 2 || osh

*All credit goes to the creators of these images*

~𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘧 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘴, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘱𝘢𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮…~

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Museum Curator!Sehun x Sculpture!Reader

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: sexual content, oral m recieving, fingering, Sad scenes, Reader is a sculpture?, Swearing, Lot’s of grammar mistakes, heartbreaking and heartwarming scenes ahead…

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2.3k

𝘼/𝙉:This has been a series that I’ve been dying to do for a very long time! I think Museum Curator!Sehun is such an uncommon paring that we need more of these days. Also inspired by Night at the Museum Movie Series... Enjoy!

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘖𝘩 𝘚𝘦𝘩𝘶𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘴 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘮 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘳. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 12...

                                    ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was the early hours of the morning when Oh Sehun was only done a quarter of his assigned research. Despite his former role as head curator at the International Art Museum in New York - a highly respected position, Sehun had succumbed to doing the dirty work for the head director Johnny Suh. The reason? To secure his job and title. 

While in New York, Sehun was fired due to circumstances that remain only between him and director Suh. Even if he did have a unique eye for art and historical artifacts, that didn’t matter to the higher ups in the field if he lied. Thus, assigning pages of research and tasks for the next year was deemed a reasonable punishment in the eyes of the department. 

Sehun’s eyes are sore and tired from the countless words he’s read. His wrist aches from the pages he’s recorded, and all he wants is to quickly go home to the comfort of his cat and couch. groaning at the papers and books sprawled out in front of him, sehun covers his face with his book, eyes closing in frustration. “8 more months... just 8 more months” he assuringly murmurs to himself.

he may be tired but he doesn’t fail to notice the white cloth that drags behind a figure. wondering if he’s seeing things, he forces himself to waken up and lift the edges of the book that blocks the full view. that let’s him get a glimpse of your shadowy figure that’s swiftly prancing through the shelves of books. Your white dress dances behind you, matching the movements of your long curls, and he swears he’s seen you before. 

“One of the actors that dresses up for the kids exhibit?” - It doesn’t make sense since it’s far too late for them to be getting off work. “A part timer?” There weren’t any newbies that he remembered to resemble your appearance.

Carefully controlling your movements and sounds, you successfully make it a few feet away from the door, unbeknownst that Sehun’s eyes were glued to you. He knows that no one would enter the library and leave without a book or record in their hands. You simply held the fabrics of your dress, clutching tightly with all your might.

“You’re forgetting something aren’t you?”

You held your breath, hands stopping just at the handles of the wooden doors.

“Shit” 

The sounds of a chair being pushed back and precise footsteps followed in your direction. “You seem to have left what you were looking for haven’t you? He studied the back of your outfit and perked his brow in suspicion. “Which department are you from? Archiving? Communications?” Your silence confirmed the curator that you could be a museum thief or a spy for another museum. “Who are you?” he asked, getting ready to spin you around and reveal your identity. But before he could do anything else, you did what you thought was best. 

Flee.

Sehun chased after you, determined to find your true identity. Pushing the heavy and old iron doors of the library you ran as fast as you could, away from the strange man. Still clutching your dress with fear, you ran under the hanging war planes displayed above the main entrance. Usually you would have stopped to admire the grand aircrafts like every other night, but tonight you were running too fast to stop. Your pace quickened after hearing the fast approaching steps of Sehun, indicating he was right on your tail

Arriving to the main hallway of the museum, it was bustling with the many relics and artifacts that had come to life. From prominent war generals perched on their horses to the famous yet very dead British royalty that filled the room. Obviously wax figures of the originals. 

Scanning for someone to let them know about the witness, a hand suddenly grasps your own, spinning you around to stare at them. Panting and out of breath, Sehun smirks at your surprised reaction. “You didn’t answer my question”

aggressively trying to free from his strong grasp, you pleaded desperately. “Please.. let me go...” his expression softened and he released some of the pressure. Instead, he pulls you closer to his chest and whispers in your ear. The distance made you blush with embarrassment and try to move away but he didn’t let go this time either. “There will be consequences to your actions.” he threatened. “The museum security and police department will take action if you don’t say who-”

Sehun’s words faltered, entranced with the view behind you. People, objects, and animals of all historical time periods were together. William Shakespeare was talking to Muhammad Ali, while a massive Jeff Koons ballon dog was prancing amongst cavemen singing the new Katy Perry song. 

It was a sight that made Sehun astonished enough to loosen the grip on your wrist completely. Seeing this as your chance for escape, and revenge, you slapped Sehun right on the cheek. The impact of the slap left a visible red mark on his skin, along with an echoing sound that brought attention to the scene unfolding. 

You scoffed at the disbelief evident in his face, and turned around swiftly, your long hair grazing his face. You made your way to HyunA and Lisa who sat by the water fountain, stopping in the midst of their conversation to what the commotion was. Instead of you, Sehun was more-so worried about the sharp swords that were now being held against him. 

At the words of war general E. Dawn - who happened to be in the room, British soldiers held their weapons against Sehun and slowly cornered him to a wall. The room’s vibrant chatter had now come to a silence as others realized what was happening. Sehun gulped in fear but didn’t back down and analyzed the situation logically. Spreading out a hand of reassurance he negotiated with them. “I’m not a threat. Just let me go and I won’t say a thing about tonight to anyone else” He was sincere and to the point.

Dawn rejected his offer, and made his way to Sehun. Eyes filled with suspicion and distrust, he didn’t hesitate to raise his own sword to Sehun’s neck. When that happened Sehun closed his eyes, slowly falling to his knees and raising his hands in surrender. Gasping in fear, you pushing through the crowd that formed around them, and yelled at Dawn. 

“Stop!”

Sehun opened his eyes in bewilderment at your actions, staring at you as if you were crazy. Not long ago was he the person that threatened to hand you over to authorities. Dawn mimicked Sehun’s expression and looked you up and down. You were well acquainted with E. Dawn, occasionally nodding heads to each other when you passed the hallways at night. But he was more so HyunA’s type, all solemn, serious, and virtuous. 

“You’re brain must still be marble Y/N! This man needs to be terminated immediately, or else every artifact in this museum will be shipped off to be torn and teared apart by officials!” 

The others cheered him, agreeing whole-heartedly with the general of the British. You sighed and glanced from Dawn to Sehun. Putting your best smile and persuasive voice you lowered his sword. 

“Why general Dawn, this man had sworn to keep tonights events a secret! Could you not find an ounce of sympathy for him? Plus, where would we put the contents of his decapitated body?” you asked, batting your eyelashes as naturally as you could.

Sehun couldn’t help but smile and quietly scoff at your attempt of persuasion: key word, attempt. You were definitely one of kind. 

Dawn began to take in your words, thinking about the consequences of murdering the man. Dawn wasn’t the most hardest to persuade. Glancing back to Sehun, he grabbed his turtleneck up. “What is your name?” he asked roughly.

Sehun eyes flickered from Dawn’s eyes, before staring in yours and saying,

“It’s Sehun. Oh Sehun”

Taking a few moments to think a bit more, the general came to a final conclusion. He released the grip from Sehun’s shirt, and brought him up to stand on his feet. Wrapping a less than comforting arm around his shoulders, and smiling assuringly to the crowd 

“My fellow friends of the museum! You must have all been scared for a second. Do not worry! 

“Sehun will not tell a single soul about tonight, right Sehun..” 

Sehun stayed still, lips curling into a disapproving frown when he glanced downwards to Dawn’s hands on his shoulder.“If I find out that that mouth of yours has blabbered about some nonsense of real life wax figures and artifacts...” Dawn began laughing jokingly before he leaned in to whisper something in his ears. Sehun didn’t falter, never taking his eyes off yours like before. 

“What is up with this guy?” you thought, biting your lip in disarray

                                             ━━━━━━━━━━

The crowd agreed on Sehun’s promise, letting him now roam the museum halls without the fear of getting jabbed by a sword. Now walking back to the library, side by side with him, you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of embarrassment and shyness. What were you to say to him? You’re welcome for preventing you from getting decapitated? Sorry for slapping your cheek? You huffed quite louder than you wanted, sehun turning his head to look at your awkward state. He smiled a genuine one. 

You had saved him. Showed him mercy even when he wasn’t the nicest to you. He cleared his throat. 

“I wanted to say thank you.” he said. You looked up at him flustered. This was your first time speaking to a real person in a very very long time and you didn’t know how to reply. 

“And apologize. I wasn’t very nice to you even though you saved me from getting killed.” He huffed. You reached the library doors, turning around to face him. You don’t know if it was the lighting above the doors or the electricity running through your veins, but you can now clearly see and focus on Sehun’s face. 

Although his eyes looked down in self-disappointment, you could see his well chiseled jaw, nice lips, and a clean well taken care image. He was in fact, not that bad looking. Quite nice to look at even. 

Shaking yourself of anymore weird thoughts, you waved your hands in reassurance. “Oh no! It’s fine! I wasn’t really supposed to be in the library of records anyways, and I shouldn’t have... slapped you...” you quietly admitted, now looking down at your bare feet. Sculptures didn’t normally wear shoes.

sehun admired you. you were beautiful. enchanting, charming and cute. you had stuck up for him, and showed kindness. Plus you were quite funny. 

Sehun’s head rolled back, chuckling at your embarassment. After seeing your confused face, he explained. “sorry it’s just... you were pretty convincing back there to the general guy” Rosy cheeks appeared on your honey skin and you jokingly defended yourself. “You were about to be decapitated! What else could I have said to persuade him?”

He looked into your eyes amused, causing your heart beat to speed up. 

Why do I feel so warm? Are my cheeks burning? you asked yourself, hand coming up to cool down your face. 

“You’re from the ancient greek art gallery, correct?” he suddenly asked. “It’s just that I’ve seen you on my way to my office in the mornings. You’re Y/N, the sculpture that almost everyone that comes to the museum adores” he confessed smiling. This makes you smile, happy and embarrassed to know this. 

Sehun doesn’t hesitate to ask again. “Have you been alone for all these years?”

You’re quick to answer. “Gosh, you say that like it’s a curse. For your information, I do have friends of my own that I spend time together with” you explained annoyed. 

He smirks at your cute response and strong personality, holding up his hands in defence. “Just asking”

You’re about to say something else when Lisa suddenly appears in front of you, blocking you from sehun with folded arms and a tiny overprotective glare. You wondered how she even knew you two were here...

“So you must be that new museum curator that everyone has been talking about huh?” she says “you” with a bit of a tone, not afraid of showing Sehun her true emotions. Lisa’s million dollar gaze that leaves almost everyone shaking is showing. And that’s when you know the cogs in Lisa’s brain are running and working, jumping to conclusions or wrong ideas. 

“Lisa..” you pleaded, tugging on your friends arm to tone it down. 

“Yes I am. It’s an honor to be speaking with Mona Lisa herself” Sehun says politely and charmingly, extending a hand for her to shake. 

Lisa hates bullshit. So she cuts to the chase. 

Ignoring his hand, she then states. “Look, I’m not sure what you’re trying to get from the artifacts of this museum, but you will not get anything from my best friend.” Lisa steps closer, leaning in to warn him. “I know things about every person in this place.” she stares directly into his eyes. “Things that could ruin reputations” she continued softly yet deadly.

Sehun doesn’t waver at all when he is put up against the Mona Lisa. And I gotta give props to him for that. Before I could defend the poor man, Lisa grasps my hand and pulls me away. “Let’s go Y/N”

Lisa may be mentally strong, but she's physically strong as well. Her grip leads me away, looking back at a bewildered Sehun. “Lisa it’s fine, geez” I assure my friend, who is still mindlessly dragging me away. I looked back to sehun and expressed a sorry expression. He smiles and says something back that makes me feel something new inside. 

“see you around Y/N”

all while smirking in that black turtle neck, hand waving back at me. God, the things that Oh Sehun is starting to do to me. 

Lisa ruins the mood by shouting back 

“No she wont!!!”

(Copyright 2020 © Glossyeon // all rights reserved)

[eckstrom]

So. I could not accomplish shit today. My mind was in a state of complete disarray. I'm going to call this The Mind Disquieted. Or TMD, if you will. Completely and utterly consumed by some trivial thought that renders any attempts to calm the mind unsuccessful, till it feels satiated.

And to feel satiated, it needs to have what it wants. Except 99.99% of whatever the fuck it wants is unreasonable and unachievable. So it continues being in that chaotic state and prevents my body from moving on and doing anything productive.

Now I need to research this and see if this is something that is also experienced by others. And look for ways around it. If I find stuff like yoga and shit I'm going to immediately scrap the page. I am unable to focus during daily activities and an exercise that requires a person to do just that is futile, in my opinion. Because if I could do that, I might as well just do it during the tasks I'm supposed to do. Which is exactly what I'm failing at.

A miserable unending cycle of avoidance and discomposition that ultimately leads to unproductivity and dullness, fuelling my distemper, distress and anxiety. Pushing me ever so slightly down the familiar path of depression. I may be somewhat successful in pulling myself out before I jump completely down the deadly cliff that lies at the end of this smooth path, but do I actually dread that fateful day that may come to fruition if I keep going? Sometimes I do wonder what it would feel like to completely let go. Jump off that cliff and not hold even a shred of all that had been pulling me back.

All that pride that only swells when it is able to keep everything perfect. The inner child that only wants to please her mother. The demon that is thirsty for any drop of power which it is able to sniff out through opportune moments amongst weak peers. Trying to keep all this at bay is eating away at my soul. Because all that - is who I am. If I stop being who I've always been, then who or what I am I anymore? I do not have an answer to that and hence have been struggling to move on spiritually ever since I promised the One above that I will never let these sway me. But in my naivete I did not realize that being swayed by them is the only thing I've ever known. If I repress these, then what do I have to keep moving?

And of course my frequent visits with my worthless self. Let's call him Schmoe. Sounds apt. Schmoe tells me that if I don't fulfill my mother's unreasonable dreams, my peers' grandiose expectations to remain good and true while holding down a well-paying job as well as being a beacon of prestige for my parents and society in general - then I am worthless. Then I have never truly achieved anything. And that only means I am a waste of space and resources.

But how does Schmoe know what to base these "achievements" on? What if I don't believe in having all this in my life? Then if I did achieve them, will I actually be achieving anything? It will only be a ruse to please my pride (let's call her Andromeda) but I will remain feeling as hollow and empty as I always felt. How do I know? Because in the past, the glorious days of my schooling, I had achieved exactly that. I had pleased Andromeda by doing everything Schmoe told me to. And I stopped doing that because I did not feel satisfied anymore. I was satisfying Schmoe and Andromeda, both of whom worked for the inner child that wanted to please my mother. And at times, my peers. But I wanted something else. I don't know what. But not this.

I got exhausted over having to slave long hours for something I did not even understand. Or want. Or maybe even need. And in the process I lost that part of me who wanted to create and explore. That which was curious to know how the world worked and how I could be a part of it by contributing something of my own volition. Instead my pure childlike curiosity was spent on books that were restricted by syllabi, learning that was confined to the dull content that produced examinations and understanding that went no further than what old bigoted misogynists wanted me to understand.

The key to knowing what would fill that hole in me, that hole that cares not for Schmoe nor Andromeda, is to revive the other half of that inner child in me who died somewhere during my school days when all my resources were being spent on pruning the first half that lived only for my mother to live vicariously through her.

Revive the little innocent curious child and provide him/her with all of the knowledge that the world has to give and let him/her decide where to take me. This will be my first step to bringing my true self into light. For my own sight as well for the others.

[loucifieri]

How I imagine the post concert chaos should’ve went down:

CHOICES, THE FRESHMAN: BOOK 3 CONFLICT with Kaitlyn Liao, reimagined~

A/N: Please know that I am an illustrator, and really good at it but not so much as a writer. I may be a visual person but it doesn’t translate well with words apparently. I wanted to make this into a comic but it might take me forever. Anyway, don’t have a beta so my messy grammar might be too painful. Still, enjoy!

–

After Zig threw the punch, other attendees began a scuffle amongst themselves too and soon enough the mosh pit is thrown into disarray. I tried to keep my balance as I scurry away from this whole mess, which was almost impossible when people are shoved against you. I managed to get halfway towards the exit when I hear Kaitlyn’s attempt at calming the crowd. I struggle to turn myself and get a look at the stage, to see how Kaitlyn and her band have been faring, and thankfully she is facing my direction. I wave both my hands to hopefully get her attention and I think it worked because her eyes widen briefly before anxiousness overtakes her features. I’m not really sure how she managed that, “Maybe it’s because of what I’m wearing? Or she just has penchant for detecting where I am…” I mused.

I angle my left arm pointing towards the exit and she nods in understanding. I wanted to give her a smile (which probably was one of the strangest things to do at the moment and she likely won’t get to see it in this commotion anyway), instead my face contorts into a grimace when a hand forcefully shoves me from behind. I stumble forward and after my poor attempt at keeping my balance, I make contact with the floor on my knees but prevented myself from falling further by planting both arms on the ground.

The whole experience knocked the wind out of me and it was extremely difficult to reorient myself when my vulnerable form is being pushed and stepped on, so I remained on the ground. After awhile, a feel someone yank me up by my bicep. “MC! You’ll be fine, I’m right here.” I recognize Zig’s voice. Feeling a little light-headed, I mostly focused on keeping myself upright that I couldn’t bother responding to him. He stays on my side while holding me by my shoulders, sort of encasing me in his arms. “Let’s get out of here.” He says while he guides me out the exit.

Only when we finally got out and a safe distance away from the venue did Zig release his hold on me. I muster a small smile at him before leaning on a wall. I massaged my temples and released a heavy sigh, Zig wordlessly eyeing me from a few steps away. After regaining my bearings, I broke the silence between us, “Tonight went to hell fast, oh my god, Kait’s probably—“

“MC!!!” Kaitlyn shouts as she runs toward us from the exit, looking frantic. “I’ve been looking for you! I saw you fall and shit, I was so scared something terrible happened to you!”

Relieved to see her relatively unharmed, I gave her a tired grin. “I’m fine.” She raises an eyebrow. “Okay, I’m not fine.”

She holds me by my arms, her eyes scanning me for any horrible injury I might have gotten before pulling me into a hug. She abruptly pulls away before I could return the embrace, her hands now resting on my shoulders. “I… I went into the mosh pit to look for you but you weren’t there anymore when I arrived. I ran into Zack and he told me you were led outside by…” she trails off, then turns to look at Zig and narrows her eyes, “that guy.”

“Kaitlyn…” I whisper. It doesn’t deter her attention from Zig.

“You started this whole mess! Our concert was ruined, and we’ll likely be blacklisted from this venue. Not to mention, my girlfriend got hurt” she motions to me, then turns to fully face him and raises both her arms dramatically “because you just haaaad to punch the guy.” The anger was clearly lacing each of her words and it unnerved me, I’ve never seen her so angry.

Zig looked taken aback for a moment before his face morphs into a scowl. “Hey! That guy happened to get rough with your girlfriend! I was only protecting her.” He responds, bordering on a shout.

“So you punch him right then and there? Didn’t anyone teach you conflicts can be solved without resorting to violence?!” Kaitlyn retorts, her own voice dangerously rising.

I didn’t want this escalating further, so before Zig could respond I stood between them with my body facing Kaitlyn. “Enough. It was just an accident, Kait. Don’t blame Zig for trying to look out for me.”

“Are you being fucking serious right now, MC?!” She practically screams at my face. “Even after all this, you still take his side?!!”

“I’m not taking his side, Kaitlyn.” I answer too fast to my own liking. “No one wanted this to happen, okay? Just calm down and not take this all on Zig!”

“So who do you want me to blame? You?!! Because you’re this guy’s friend so by extension, you are at fault?? Do I rationalize it as your way of getting back at me for not spending time with our roommates?!” She challenges.

“What, NO! That sounds petty… and stupid.” I choke out. She rolls her eyes. “Exactly. The most logical person to blame here is him.”

“He acted before he thought it through. Cut him some slack.” I spoke softly. Kaitlyn suddenly glares at me “Why are you still defending him?!”

“Because you’re being unreasonable and she’s a good friend” Zig suddenly speaks up, and I am reminded he was actually there with us.

“I’m being unreasonable, really? And what is with this guy, why does he always throw himself at you every chance he gets?” Kaitlyn narrows her eyes on both of us. Is she jealous… again?

“He i-isn’t! He’s just new here and he just needs a friend.” I stumble over my response and mentally kick myself for it, because to Kaitlyn I probably sound like I’m hiding an affair but I’m just bewildered she even brought up Zig’s tendency to pseudo-flirt with me.

“And you are such a darling huh, befriending everyone you find attractive.” She says, each word punctuated with venom. My mouth hangs agape, even Zig didn’t dare breathe a word; he looked just as shell-shocked as I was. A memory flashed through my head. /He’s hard not to notice/

I close my eyes and press my mouth in a thin line. “What the fuck, Kaitlyn?”

She backs away slightly, but continues to glower at me nonetheless. She opens her mouth to say something but I don’t let her. “And what about you and Natasha?! Who, might I remind you, was someone you were always giddy to meet every band practice… which is incidentally, almost everyday! And I didn’t assume this, you were the one who always told me how excited you were to meet her. You barely even mention Rachel or Amara, goddamnit”

Surprisingly, Kaitlyn’s scowl never wavered one bit. “I was excited because of the original song lyrics and arrangements she wrote! She also tries to teach me how to play a guitar and I’m interested in learning. I love being in a band, MC… not being with Natasha!!”

“Oh, so you get angry at me for indirectly accusing you of cheating but you’re fine with assuming the worst with Zig and I?!” At the mention of his name, Zig steps back. “When I’ve always made it clear to him that I’m exclusively yours whether our roommates are around or not. But of course you wouldn’t know that because you’re barely around, huh?”

Kaitlyn is still understandably seething but she abruptly turns and begins to walk away. I quickly grab her sleeve, “Hey! Why are you walking away?”

She breaks free from my grip, never turning to look at me. “I need some space.” She says, in her normal speaking volume but she’s clearly still angry.

“Are you fucking breaking up with me now?” I retort without thinking. She turns around, her face still contorted to a scowl but she seems… tired. “I did not say that, MC. Oh my God, I just need space to sort out my feelings!” She doesn’t wait for my reply and quickly stalks off. 

I just stood there, livid, while Zig was completely silent a few feet away. A few beats later my anger subsided, but it was replaced by misery. Replaying the earlier scene in my head over and over, I cover my eyes as tears roll down my cheeks. I realized how poorly I handled tonight’s events. I hear Zig’s nearing footsteps but he stops at a good distance, careful not to get too near. “Tonight really went to hell fast.” He whispers. 

I can’t help but silently agree.

—

And then Tyler, Abbie and Zack arrive! And of course the events at the bar and the sleepover with Becca still happen. But yeah, I wish it happened this way where Kait wasn’t made to be a complete shallow bitch? I sure as hell know she isn’t THAT petty, and I don’t say that coz I like her lol

Book 3 had good build up with the jealousy path because whether you entertain Zig’s advances or not, he’s mostly flirty so Kaitlyn can take it the wrong way either way. And of course there’s the “omg Kaitlyn is spending way too much time with the band, and of course, NATASHA” for MC’s side.

Their lesson here would be mutual trust, I guess? Also as for those whose LI isn’t Kaitlyn, just replace the dialogue with concerned bestfriend lines like “Bitch your grades are dropping, you hang around too much with those Bad Influencers™ and Kait will go into her rebellious mode and just be Angery™ at MC’s clinginess. Just not, blame her for what happened at the pit?? James and Chris were understandably unreasonable during Book 3 but Kaitlyn was just… over the top unreasonable.

[chasingthecosmos]

By Any Other Name

Fandom: Doctor Who Rating: T Pairing: The Doctor/Rose Tyler, Eleventh Doctor/Rose Tyler (The Doctor/Clara Oswald, Eleventh Doctor/Clara Oswald) Chapters: 32/33 Read on AO3 here.

“Rose Tyler was dying - or, at least, she was relatively certain that that’s what was happening …” A Season 7 AU where Rose returns to her home universe only to find that 100 years have passed and nothing is quite the way that she remembers it. She wakes up with a new body, a new life, and a new Doctor. What has the Bad Wolf gotten her into this time? The 50th Anniversary will be included in this story.

The request for parlay ended up being a trap, just as they both had expected it would be, but neither of them had quite been prepared for the great eyestalk that suddenly protruded from Tasha's forehead as the Papal Mainframe was suddenly overrun by daleks.

When the Doctor and Rose finally darted back into the safety of the TARDIS, they knew that their strange routine of life down in the town of Christmas had abruptly come to an end. The forcefield around the planet of Trenzalore was weakening, and soon every single one of the Doctor's enemies were going to be attempting to infiltrate and attack.

"It's done," the Doctor murmured as he stared hard at the readouts on the console screen before him.

"What is?" Rose asked hesitantly, hoping beyond home that he would somehow manage to come up with some sort of genius solution that would save the day against all odds and get them both back home safe in time for the holidays.

"Your turkey," the Doctor replied lightly, flashing her a small, amused smile as he added, "Either that or it's woken up."

Rose laughed breathlessly as the warm, inviting smell suddenly filled her senses. "That's one Christmas saved, then," she muttered as she moved closer to the Doctor and glanced over his shoulder to see that the TARDIS monitor was filled with images of the town that they had come to inhabit recently. "What are we going to do about this one?" she asked pointedly.

"I've got an idea about that," the Doctor replied easily. "But you should really go and take that turkey out of the vortex oven. Don't want it to start growing feathers."

Rose chuckled in amusement as she reached up to place a kiss against the Doctor's cheek, but she paused in thought for a moment as she pulled away and swept another assessing gaze over him. He was acting oddly withdrawn, his presence in her mind barely perceptible, as though he were attempting to shutter her away from whatever it was that he was thinking. When he caught her suspicious gaze, however, the Doctor immediately smiled and filled her head once more with thoughts of heartfelt fondness.

Don't go anywhere, she warned him over their bond as she turned on her heel to head towards the are underneath the console.

Wouldn't dream of it, he replied easily, filling her mind with an overwhelming sense of love and devotion that had Rose growing instantly suspicious again. Once she had retrieved her turkey and ascended the console room stairs once more, she immediately realized why. The main room of the ship was completely empty, and when she stepped outside in search of the Doctor, the TARDIS doors were closed and locked behind her before she even had the chance to recognize the familiar, suburban image of the Maitland house standing before her.

Oh, no, you don't ... Rose growled stubbornly as she turned back towards the doors of the old blue police box, but the ship was already blinking back out of existence, leaving her stranded and completely alone on the cold, empty street. Rose gasped as she felt her telepathic bond with the Doctor disappear along with the ship, his presence in her mind fading into silence and leaving her feeling more abandoned than she had ever felt in her life.

"No ..." she breathed desperately as she stared at the empty space where the TARDIS had stood just moments before. "Come back." She couldn't believe that he was doing this - again. Hadn't he learned his lesson the last time he had tried to send her home against her wishes?

But this time, there was no Bad Wolf, no TARDIS, nothing - just Rose and her perfectly done Christmas turkey standing in the middle of an empty street with no way of getting back to the daft old Time Lord who she loved more than anything in any universe in creation. How was she possibly going to save his life this time?

--------------------

"Smells amazing, Clara," George called into the kitchen encouragingly as Rose dumped the tray of roast turkey dejectedly onto the counter. The rest of the kitchen was still in complete disarray from her thwarted attempt at cooking earlier, and she glared down at the half-prepared food as angry tears began to blur her vision.

"There's still no way I'm eating a bite of that thing," Angie insisted stubbornly as she popped her head through the doorway behind Rose and turned her nose up at the pan of perfectly-done turkey.

"Probably best," Rose admitted blandly. "It's been cooking in the time winds for a while, now. Who knows what that's done to it ..."

Angie's eyes immediately narrowed as she took another small step into the kitchen and peered closer at Rose's blank, teary-eyed expression. "You're being weird again ..." she mused hesitantly. "Is it ... something to do with the Doctor?"

"No," Rose replied with quiet determination. "Just been a long day. Don't worry, dinner will be ready soon." She turned to flash the young girl her brightest, most convincing smile and then quickly busied herself with the rest of the half-prepared meal lying about on the counters all around her.

Rose knew that she was stuck - truly, properly trapped this time, without any hope of getting back to the Doctor. She decided in that moment that if he and the Bad Wolf were both so determined to force her into this normal, human life, then she might as well start living it. It wasn't the Maitlands's fault, after all, that all of this had happened to her. But she was here, now, and she was going to make the best of Christmas - if not for herself, then certainly for Angie and Artie.

"Now," Rose muttered under her breath as she gazed down at the rest of the holiday meal, which stood in varying stages of completeness all around her, "where was I?"

--------------------

"You sure we shouldn't wait for the Doctor?" George asked as Rose sat down the last tray of food on the small dining room table before him.

"Nah, he's rubbish at holidays," Rose replied, making her tone as bright and cheerful as possible in an attempt to cover up the gaping hole that she could feel in her chest at the Doctor's absence. "He's rubbish at normal dinners as well. Just ... all around rubbish with showing up, I suppose."

"And you're ... sure you're alright?" George insisted, eyeing Rose warily as she finally settled into her designated seat amongst their small family gathering.

"Great! Yeah, fine!" Rose lied cheerily, flashing each of the Maitlands a forced grin. "Well, go on, then, start eating! Don't want it to get cold!"

They all quietly obeyed, but the awkward silence that fell upon the room was deafening as they all fought and failed to avoid eye-contact with the empty seat at Rose's right side. However, the silent, tense atmosphere made it easy to hear the familiar grinding, whirring noise of engines that suddenly buzzed to life and echoed down the empty street outside.

"What's all that noise?" George asked curiously as he narrowed his eyes on the dining room window.

"Is that ...?" Artie asked quietly, his young voice filled with all of the hope and wonder that Rose could feel blossoming inside of her own chest.

"I thought you said he wasn't coming?" Angie insisted, flashing Rose an annoyed look that did nothing to dim the eager gleam in her dark eyes.

Rose was suddenly finding it very hard to breathe as her heart gave a great, lurching leap inside of her chest and threatened to run off after the noise without her. "I'll ... be right back!" she explained quickly, shooting to her feet and immediately abandoning the half-eaten meal that she had spent so much time working on. "You all just ... stay right here, and I will ... be right back!"

"Clara?" George called after her in concern as she bolted from the room without another word, bursting through the front door and darting across the lawn as fast as her legs would carry her.

The familiar blue box was parked in exactly the same place as it had been when it had dropped her off, though it looked as though it had been through a few trials along the way. The TARDIS's song in Rose's head was a languorous, weary lament.

"What is it this time, Old Girl?" Rose whispered as she immediately stepped up to the ship and laid her palms flat against the worn, blue wood. "Where is he?"

Must hurry, must go back, must help ... the ship insisted desperately.

Rose didn't need to be told twice. She instantly threw open the ship's doors and darted towards the empty console before her. Take me to him, she demanded as she lifted the hand brake and allowed the sentient ship to input their destination as she did what she could to prepare them for departure.

So lost, so alone, so sad ... the ship continued to hum morosely. It has already begun.

What's happened to him? Rose asked, desperate for answers as the TARDIS began to whir to life around her.

Death, dying, so old, so tired - it's time, at last, to sleep.

"Don't talk like that," Rose insisted stubbornly, reaching up to lay a consoling hand against the ship's time rotor, as though that would erase the pained melody of loss echoing in her head. "We'll rescue him, just like we always do. You'll see."

The clock is chiming. It's almost midnight, the TARDIS stated resolutely. It has already begun, my flower. He will rest as all men must.

Rose gritted her teeth in bitter frustration as she held tight to the ship's console and waited for the jolting movements to cease. She knew that the TARDIS existed throughout all of space and time and could see all that is and was and ever could be, but she refused - absolutely refused - to let time get away with this one.

Rose would save the Doctor - it was what she did. She would rescue him even if it meant rescuing him from himself, and she wouldn't ever stop running until she knew that he was safe again. She didn't care what anyone else had to say about the matter - the Doctor would never die, not as long as she had anything to say about it.

--------------------

Rose could see that Trenzalore was in ruin as soon as she landed and stepped out onto the snowy landscape once more. The air was thick with smoke, making it difficult to see the details of the familiar town of Christmas. There were no more lights or decorations lining the streets and casting a warm, cheery glow on the cold winter snow - there was only fire and the sound of desperate screams filling the air.

However, as Rose gazed around at the eerie scene, she couldn't seem to stop the eager smile that lit up her features as her telepathic bond suddenly bloomed back to life within her mind. The Doctor was still alive, and he was here - somewhere close.

Rose? he called out to her in disbelief as soon as they had been firmly reconnected once more.

I'm coming for you, she replied quickly, her mind leaving no room for any sort of argument as she instantly locked onto the Doctor's presence in the bell tower and began racing towards it, her heart pounding erratically in her chest the entire time.

Thought you would have given up on me by now, the Doctor's thoughts grumbled wearily as Rose dodged the crowds of fleeing townsfolk and peered anxiously through the smoke-filled air ahead.

Are you really so eager to get rid of me? Rose demanded, not even trying to hide her bitter hurt from him as her eyes began to sting from the combination of smoke, cold, and loss. I thought we had agreed on this. I thought you weren't going to try and push me away anymore ...

Rose ... Her name was all that he managed to convey using actual thought. Everything else he projected to her from the wordless depths of his hearts, and it crashed into Rose's mind like a freight train, nearly taking her breath away with it. His longing for her and the pain at being separated was only the underlying basis of his thoughts, almost completely overshadowed by the crushing weight of his duty to protect her at all costs that drowned out all else.

I couldn't watch you wither away and die, he insisted desperately as Rose finally burst through the bell tower doors at the center of the devastated town and began to take the stairs two at a time. I couldn't even take that risk ...

Rose only had enough time to convey a general sense of her confusion in reply as she rounded the final corner and burst into the room where she knew the Doctor was waiting for her. She instantly froze in her tracks, however, as she gazed around in wonder at the surrounding walls, which were completely covered from floor to ceiling in childrens drawings. Rose knew that the Doctor had been collecting the precious souvenirs ever since they had first touched down in the town of Christmas, but the last time that she had seen him, his entire collection could have fit inside of a small book. Now, however, the cherished memories lined the room like wallpaper.

"Oh, Doctor ..." Rose breathed in quiet disbelief as understanding slowly began to dawn on her in waves. Clearly, he had been stuck here on Trenzalore for far longer than she had originally realized - all on his own, for all of that time, just because he wanted to save her.

As she crept slowly forward, Rose could see that the Doctor was sitting in an old wooden chair on the opposite end of the room. His posture was rigid and tense as he slowly turned to face her, the light from the crack in the wall behind him lighting up the cloud of wispy white hair that now donned his head.

"Hello again," he muttered quietly, his voice old and ragged and making Rose's heart weep with love for him.

"Hello, Doctor," she replied thickly as she desperately fought against the tears that were pricking the backs of her eyes.

"It's been a while," he greeted her, his smile looking weary and worn as he dropped his gaze to the carpet between them. Rose could sense that his thoughts had turned wary and self-conscious as he quietly mused, Still as beautiful as ever. Still deserving of so much more than a tired old man like me.

"Looks like you failed again," Rose cut him off, flashing him a small, sad smile as she slowly stepped forward and bent to sit by his side, taking one of his wrinkled, frail hands in both of hers and placing a gentle kiss against his knuckles. "Still can't manage to get rid of me, eh?"

The Doctor chuckled quietly, and Rose felt a wide smile stretch across her face as his old green eyes sparkled with a familiar, fond expression. He slowly extended the fingers of the hand that she was holding onto and let them gently trace the shape of her cheek as he looked down on her in awe. "Out of the many failures that I have had to suffer in this life," he stated firmly, "this, I think, may be the only one that I will gladly accept."

[dividedwerisetogetherwefall]

Chapter 1: Rise of Nations

Ever since the beginnings of civilization, a preeminent rivalry arose. Two nations were pitted against each other by the cruelest of fates. There was no rest, there was no peace. They lived for war, they thrived off war, and there was never enough of it. In a lush valley, long long ago, two civilizations formed, each on opposing hills. The kingdoms known only as red and blue loathed each other. Daily, the red and the blue would march their men to war. Both sides would meet eye to eye atop the hills, and they would charge down. Their soldiers met in the dip, and they would fight tirelessly. No retreat was ever called, for all that mattered was victory. The deceased were left to rot in the well of the valley, and the pile of bodies within it grew more and more massive, as the kings continued to send their soldiers into an unwinnable war. The Kings watched atop their high towers, the deaths of the soldiers only acting as a small morsel to the greedy demons within them that only howled for more bloodshed. Every day was the same. Assemble ranks, charge, die. The valley became more and more full with corpses and skeletons. Despite this, the kings pursued war-driven agenda and pushed on. Yet, both sides were dying from the inside, and everyone except the leaders knew of it. The people were starving, sick, broken, beaten, restless, yet the fighting went on. Every night was dark and cold. 

They howled at their nation’s rulers in their ivory towers, who were fat, and jolly; careless of the suffering of their people. They screamed, “Help us! Save us!” Their voices were silenced. They begged, “We will do anything for a bite to eat! Save us!” Their requests were ignored. Yet the fight went on, and the kings scoffed as they sent their pawns to their death again and again. Riots broke out, and rebellions formed. The citizens of the kingdoms found themselves caught in an endless free for all for survival. Brother against sister, sons against fathers; all that mattered was survival. Many feared for their lives and fled their nations, but others stayed and fought on, determined to rise to the top and survive. Their kingdoms had fallen, and only at this moment, the rulers finally opened their eyes and saw all the corruption in their kingdoms. Dread hung over them as they tried to reconcile. The Kings screamed, bargained, bribed, but it wasn’t enough. The barrier protecting him from the ravenous people had been broken. Splinters flew across the air as the people poured in, armed with clubs and rocks.

The kings sputtered, “Please… just let me live another day! I swear this will not happen again! I’ll make sure to- Hey get your hands off me! What are you-” The people grabbed the king and clasped their hands over his mouth. The Kings’ screams boomed across the entire valley, as the people of the valley slowly ended the tyrants who had brought only pain and suffering into their life. Their clubs bashed one at a time, each bash producing a heart-wrenching shriek. Slowly but surely, the wicked kings were put to rest. They looked across the valley filled to the brim with bodies of dead soldiers. At the opposing hill, they saw each other. For some reason, they felt a deep hate for each other. “They’re the enemy.” Said the people. “Who else is there to blame?” Ironically, the one thing the people had attempted to cease, simply ignited a hunger for the one thing sitting inside them all. Violence. The ravaged people stared at each other from the ivory towers. They hurled insults at each other from their high places. The red nation screamed, “You’ll pay for this! Criminals! Murderers!”   The blue nation exclaimed in reply, “Blasphemy! You brought this upon us!” “Disgusting, vile lies!” The red nation shouted back. They bickered back and forth, hurling childish insults at each other until their voices grew hoarse and they could scream no longer. The sun had already set by the time they stopped, so both sides stopped and retreated for the night. They lay hungry, sick, and bruised in the ramshackle remains of their kingdoms; yet this night was not sleepless. A beast had found shelter in these people, and it gave them satisfaction. They lay, staring at the stars, curious of what the next day would bring until sleep took them over swiftly like an assassin in the night. They awoke to the sounds of birds chirping, and screeching as they were quickly shot out of the air by rocks, thrown by the starving people of the land. The birds would make a soft thud on the grass as the ravaged people would proceed to rip their tiny guts up into little pieces to prepare them for cooking. Makeshift tents were set up, campfires were made, and the people of the valley enjoyed a meal of small bird meat. It was a pleasant moment of peace between both nations. How long would it last? After a meager breakfast, the people of the blue kingdom began planning, for they knew they that idleness would only bring strife. So they split and took a responsibility. The men went out and hunt, the women took care of the children, and the children waddled around and played little games with their mates. All was well for these people. They knew not of a better life. Survival was enough for the people of the blue kingdom. Every day was lived with a purpose, no idling, no breaks. In the morning they toiled: farming, building, hunting, then slept early and woke early for another day of more hard work. Years of monotonous work pass, and soon enough the people of the blue nation grew tireless. What had their lives become? Where have they gone? What is their purpose? Is this all life had to offer? “Surely there is so much left to discover in the world.” They thought. The people didn't know why they lived, and why they were there. For so long survival had been what their brains craved. Now that survival is easy, what now? What was left for them in life? These thoughts rushed through the brains of the people without end. They were haunted by these thoughts at every waking moment. The nagging voice in their heads caused them to become restless and insane. They lay awake some nights, trying to mute the voice inside them but, their attempts were unsuccessful. Many sleepless nights later, the people decided they’d had enough, so they planned a meeting so they could discuss their thoughts. At first, it was awkward and silent. The people sat around in a large circle around the circle just before sunset. Everyone stared at one another, waiting for someone to take initiative. The men fidget around, for they were not used to be part of such sedentary activity. The sun sets. More silence. Suddenly, a voice appeared from outside the circle. “Surely, there is more to life.” Said an old man with a faint, yet calming voice. Everyone’s eyes darted at the tent he was lying down in. He got up and sat up to face all the youth around him. He was a weak, pathetic being. He wore wrinkled skin and pale sunken eyes. He waved his finger towards them and said, “You are our future. Please. Explore, experiment, discover. I promise to you that there is so much more to life than survival. You just have to seek it.” The men stared at the old man and nodded obediently. They return to their awkward silence. The fire crackled quietly as the moon began to peek over the hill. A young man’s voice erupted suddenly, “Impossible. Simply impossible.” The crowd’s eyes shot towards the young man this time. “So what if we discover something never found before? How can we ensure these discoveries will bring good into our lives?” Whispering broke out amongst the other people at the camp. Their eyes would look at the young man, then they would shift them to the old man with an anxious look on their faces. The young man took a deep sigh and continued on. “If we are living our lives this way then it must be a reason.” He pointed at the sky. “Whoever is up there pulling the strings knows, but we don't. We can never be corrupt if we don't allow corrupt things in our lives, you see? Look! We have everything we need here! Water! Food! Shelter! Now what? Do we need more? To fulfill our selfish desires?” The people stared at the young man, who had gotten up from his place in the circle in excitement. The old man stared at the young man with his ominous glassy eyes and began to speak once more. “I could argue with you all day about this boy, but I want you to understand something. Life is gonna bore you to death if you go on this way. Work, sleep, work, sleep until the day you die. Is that what you want? Let me answer for you, no. Who cares about corruption? This is our destiny. We weren't made to stay in one place in life, we were made to go places. Come on my friend, let us go out and seek.” He reached his hand out to the young man. They shook hands, and they smiled. The moon shone brightly above them, so the people silently agreed to fall in for the night. For once their rest was not disturbed by the nagging voice, it vanished, and was never heard from again. The red kingdom was in complete disarray. Blood splattered on the ground; dirt and grime were everywhere. The body of their king was stabbed in a large spike in the ground for all to see. Small tents were set up around the perimeter of the city walls, and the open area in the center housed tens of men, fighting for who knows what. They hurled insults at each other as they dived and swung their fists at each other. “Weak!” One man said. Another man turned around and punched him square in the jaw. “Who are you callin weak?” Another fighter leaped into the air and drove his elbow into his face. “Fools! None of you are stronger than me!” Of course, this taunt caused other men to target this man. This pattern of hit, then get hit persisted throughout the whole fight. They fought on until the moon shone brightly in the air, and their bodies were numb with pain. They retreated to their tents, where they skipped all the nonsense like speaking to their wife and kids, and went straight to their cot for sleep. They awoke whenever they wanted to, and hunted whenever they wanted to. They would always travel in different directions, for competition for food was extremely high and doing so would reap the most benefits. The food was sacred in this kingdom. Food is what gave them energy, it's what gave them life. Their lives, along with the lives of their families depended on their hunting. Wives and children would awake to the screams of dying animals and sometimes a screech of a human. After all, a man’s gotta eat; even if it's at the cost of another man. Their lives were simple. Hunt, fight, sleep; their wives would take care of the rest. The people lived their regular lives in their kingdoms. The blue nation sought new destinies, whilst the red accepted theirs and lived according to it. All was quiet between them until one day, warriors from the red nation crossed the river crossed the river of bodies and they screamed at the blue nation, “Come! Send your greatest warriors to compete! Show us your strength!” The blue hesitated but came to the consensus that they should participate. They sent 3 of their hunters to battle the 3 men of the red nation. The red warriors laughed and booed at the blue hunters, as they were lead to the river of bodies, which they were abruptly shoved into. The blue people began to look pale, and they vomited in disgust. The red nation watched from their hill and the blue nation from their hill. The red nation hollered at the pathetic blue warriors, but they quickly recovered and prepared for the fight. The red nation carried great steel swords, while the blue nation carried small spears and bows. The red nation came charging in, swords in the air and their voices screaming. The blue team simply backed up and readied their bows for firing. They steadied themselves, pointed, then shot. Their arrows hit all three red soldiers in their foreheads, and they dropped dead in the river of bodies. The blue nation cheered from their side as their champions climbed out of the hole. Meanwhile, on the other side of the valley, the red nation hurled insults. “Unfair! Dishonorable!” The blue nation screamed to the red. “How about we have this battle once more next year! Then, we shall truly see who the victor is!” The red nation nodded in approval and they retreated back to their kingdom. This tournament went on annually, evolving every year. New rules, restrictions on weapons; it soon became an annual reunion of red and blue, where they can sit next to each other and relax while they watch the gladiators in the pit fight to the death. The tournament became known as Red Warfare. Named after the red nation’s warfare against the blue nation that one fateful day. Fast forward to the present, the year 2068. Both kingdoms expanded immensely. They were still divided by the valley of bodies, which acted as a border. It was buried in dirt, which is the closest thing to a burial that these people would get. At the center of the border of the two kingdoms, was the red warfare arena, where the annual red warfare match would be held. Nations would join together and watch people from their nation fight to the death. What fun. Both kingdoms still loathed each other deeply. Their kingdoms were also surrounded by high walls to keep the quote unquote “rebel scum” out. Sentry men were on watch 24/7, armed with sub machine guns with way too much ammunition. Mostly the nights were silent on both sides, the people knew better than to run in solo and be put at the mercy of their sworn enemies. Due to the new arena, the fights were brought elsewhere. From the barren deserts to the snowy mountains, the fighting refused to cease. Yet no progress was made, for it was an endless stalemate. No hope, no peace.

[2moonhabitat1-blog]

W1

Monochrome

It's my last winter here. I landed on this unknown city in hopes to capture every bit of its beauty and mysteries.

Amongst everything I've got to learn from this place, never in a thousand years I'd have thought about being scared of the dead. The dead that lives in flesh and blood. They live just like the rest of us. They smile, their cheeks reach their eyes but we can never look beyond those eyes. The dead lies within. Unreachable.

I photograph places. I thought, this profession will lead me as far as being able to capture moments that will get me the recognition I crave for. I was wrong. It was not only the recognition that I would receive but also something that will forever be etched into my soul. The thought of which, disturbs me. It leaves me groundless and vulnerable.

After a few months into venturing through the city with no one to guide me, I met a girl at a flower shop.

"Excuse me? Do you know the name of this flower?" I asked her. 

"I don't. Not fond of them." She answered as she picked up a few roses to examine them. She hadn't even looked at me yet.

"Why are you here then?" I asked trying to gain her attention.

"I could ask you the same. I know you're not fond of them either.” Her prominent emerald orbs finally reflected my image.

We smiled looking at each other. Her smile drew me to hold more meaningless conversation with her.

She was very typical I would say. She drank, smoked, cracked the finest jokes. Very, very ordinary.

We would meet up frequently. Took us just a month to be good friends and drinking buddies. She insisted on lighting my cigarettes every time, then took it from my lips to smoke it up herself. Sometimes she didn't. I trusted her every time.

She invited me to her place one day. At night time, after we drank a little too much at a local bar. I didn't refuse. That night, we let each other cross boundaries. We let it out. I'm not sure how we put up with the sexual tension that was between us all this time. It was obvious, that I wanted to touch her beautiful thighs and run my thumb over her pretty tattoos while kissing her senselessly. I thought I was very good at hiding my emotions but so was she. Because there was no way she could have touched me like that if she hadn't thought about it over and over and over again. 

I was sure, we wouldn't have any ounce of regret.

I woke up first, naked; our bodies tangled. Her sweet smell engulfing my senses. My eyes at that moment were definitely filled with unexplained affection, I could tell. I'm never sure about love but somethings remain inexplicable. I felt an unimaginable urge. I felt a newfound love of photographing her. Not that I didn't have it before, but there was something so, so sensitive about this girl. I could swear that I'd be able to live the rest of my life just by capturing her in frames. I bring out my camera wasting no time in clicking photos silently as she sleeps in peace. I capture her vulnerability. I gaze at her dried disarrayed traces of tears from last night. I notice the mild bruises on her lips from kissing her too hard. I notice her slightly parted lips taking in air ever so gracefully. I notice her beautiful chest heaving up and down in slow motion. I photograph the raw details of her essence. 

I decided to leave the colors out of these pictures.

There were only a handful of times when I left a photo completely unedited. She was one of them. All of her.

For the next few months, I would randomly bring out my camera and take her photos. I always caught her off guard. She didn't seem to mind it.

"Do you feel bothered by this?"

"I feel special."

I only smiled back and kissed her. We weren't dating. I don't think any of us thought about promising ourselves to each other. We both knew we were incapable of uttering the sacred word 'love'.

Everything was magical with her. We would spend countless of nights together with no questions asked. She would make me breakfast the next day. I would make her a joint at night. We hardly ever had a fight. Whatever, we had, we'd go round and round tirelessly. It was pure to me. This was more than just voicing those three words to each other. 

I went out of town for a couple of weeks for work purposes. None of us bothered to call each other. It felt like, we'd connect as soon as we met so I didn't deem it necessary to call her. 

I came home after a while. Our home. I found her laying on the bed staring up ahead. I wrapped my arms around her and breathed in her scent that I missed so much. I leisurely got on top of her to give her slow kisses. She only stared back at me through her lashes, unresponsive.

"What's wrong?" I looked up at her beautiful pale face, only to end up placing soft kisses on both of her eyes and cheeks. She snaked her slim hands up my neck and pulled me into a sloppy kiss that drove me insane. My hands frantically searched for hers so I could pin them down and take her in with my mouth, all of her. My teeth tugging at her lower lip momentarily that was sure to form a bruise the next day. My heavy breath fanning over her rosy lips as she moaned. She was breathing just as hard. At that moment, I couldn't get enough of her. I love her. I love her so much. This felt real. I wanted to tell her something. Something I'd never say, to anyone. I wanted to break the vow I made to myself.

"I want to tell you-" I was cut off mid sentence by her.

The next thing she said had me thinking for the rest of my life.

"Why do you photograph the dead?" She asked with her eyes closed. 

I'm not sure what she was talking about.

"When did I do that?" I whispered, still heavily aroused, before I go down on her neck to nibble softly.

"All those times, you did." She muttered under her breath.

"Explain." I looked up at her.

"I saw the photos you took of me while you were gone."

"You're not dead." I laughed to lighten up the mood.

"You'll see." 

She said as she turned away from me to lay on her side. She pretended to sleep while I went back to hugging her intimately from the back.

"Don't leave me. Please." I said, before losing myself to sleep.

And maybe if I wasn't so intimate with her, with my words that I whispered unapologetically into her ears, she probably wouldn't.

The next and the last picture I took of her had her staring at my camera lenses head-on fearlessly. She sat on the wooden chair, curled up, with her head resting on her knees. Her pitch black wavy hair cascading down her bare legs. Her tiredness engraved on her face that spoke volumes about what was going on inside her. Beyond her. She looked breathtakingly beautiful.

I found her in the most ordinary of ways and lost her in a breath. 

She left. She never told me why.

The rest of the days that I spent at home which we once called ours was comprised of me going through all the black and white photos I've captured of her. My head replayed every moment we spent together questioning where we went wrong. The pictures only drove me to near insanity as I kept staring at her eyes, trying to perceive beyond them and failing each time. The last photo, always spooked me to my core. Her listless stare felt like a cry for help, it spoke to me but I could never answer.

She was insane and I never once understood her reasons and why she did the things she did. That was my conclusion.

She left me questioning things. The answers to which I was terrified of. I was terrified of myself. Because every time I looked at her eyes in all those pictures, I slowly started to see my own reflection. My own self in somebody else. I didn't want to be whoever she was. I couldn't escape either. She was turning me into the living dead that she was. I was blind. I failed to look beyond her facade and this is my punishment. The hell that I created in myself in the name of love.

Love, was in fact, never there. It was madness.

She's gone away but left her ghost with me. I could feel her staring at me with her tired eyes peeking through the curtains. I'd often feel someone sitting on that chair unmoving. I was haunted, just by the thought of her.

I'm leaving this place. This place, that, once again gave me reasons to never break the promises made to myself.

It was hard for me to realize, that, I failed to see her true color; for someone who is fond of capturing the raw colors of nature and people, it was hard for me to realize that she had none. I painted her black and white, so that's what she became. The monochrome part of my life.

I am leaving. I can run as far as I can from this place, from myself, but not from her. In this spectrum of colors that I vision, those two will always be there hiding in the corner.

[diamondborn]

how does alyssa feel about  .  .  .    /   thuganomxcs asked: "How do you feel about marrying me? Because I left the yakuza."

       ‘    say what  ,  now   ?    ’     instantly  ,  head turns to face yusuke  ,  sapphires widening as if you saw something incredulous as opposed to hearing it.  cheeks now a blush pink  ,  there's a cautionary step back to prevent him from catching your rapid heartbeat  .  ‘   d - dude  .  .  . are ya'tryin' to propose right now  ?  i - is that what ya'doin' ?  i'm glad ya'left that life but  .  .  . !!  ’  it was his getting down on bended knee that took you aback  ,  hand cupping agape lips and eyes watering .  (  oh my god  ,  he's really proposing  !!  )  

          ‘  ya'askin' .  .  .  me to marry ya  ?  like   .  .  .  no joke  ?  ’  you're constantly denying the scene in front of you  :  how lucky are you that someone like yusuke wishes to make you his wife  ?   your relationship was progressing  ,  and now it has gone much deeper  .  the bond you both share is sacred  ,  only having room to expand and strengthen   .     ‘   .  .  .  yes !!  ’  it comes out with such force and emotion  ,  weakening you and reducing limbs to mush  ,  making the both of you leveled  .  you embrace him  ,  voice diluted and tone reduced .  ‘  I .  .  .  I would feel like the best thing would be to marry ya .  b - but i'm gonna get'ya for makin' me cry  ,  asshole  .  .  .  !!   ’  softening your tear-stained face was a genuine smile ,  your lips wasting no time finding his  .    

[diamondborn]

eternitycyber said:   ❝  why  the  change  of  mind ?  ❞

            ‘    oh  ,  uhhh  .   .   .   just wasn't feelin' it.  ’    truth is  ,  you weren't feeling any of your recent pieces were satisfactory  ,  let alone breathtaking  .  pieces of fabric and accents scattered in and around the garbage can  ————  it took everything in you to not break down in defeat  .  ‘   sorry  ,  i'll have somethin' better for'ya next time  .  I may have to push back the lookbook  ,  though  .  ’    

[diamondborn]

❛  would you believe me if i told you this isn’t what it looks like ?  ❜ 

50 dialogue prompts.    /     CURRENTLY ACCEPTING.

              ‘   .  .  .   i'm gonna be really honest   :    I was just gonna go on about my business  ————   but i'm gonna need ya'to try and convince me that I ain't see what I just saw . i'm startin' to think ya'just bored or somethin'.   ’   that is the last time you're going to leave the main area unsupervised.

[diamondborn]

alyssa spills the tea on helvetica.  /  fxtelism asked:  Chatter

          ‘  let me tell ya'somethin' about ———   ’  stops to read name card.   ‘  ————  damn ,  girl  ,  pick a name and stay with it  , holy hell .  anyway  ,  helvetica is a goddamned crybaby  .  the broad just cries because the sky is blue  !!  don't get me wrong  ,  I love her  ,  we've been rockin' for like ten or so years now  ,  but she needs to grow a fuckin' backbone .  she's sensitive over everythin' and takes literally everythin’ to heart.  it's annoyin' as hell .

    ‘ but  , I will say that she does have a kind heart and feels like she has purpose in life now because of her family  . she has an adorable ass baby  .  she doesn't shut up about her  ,  actually  .  or her husband  ,  like girl  ,  we get it  !!  I love helvetica , though  .  I need to stop talkin' shit about her before she puts me in storage for some whole other person she wants to write as  .  ’  a pause.  ‘  well , hell , ya'indecisive as fuck ,  I'm just sayin' !!  ’  another pause.  ‘  okay , she's givin' me the look  ,  i'm gonna go now . ’

[diamondborn]

how does alyssa feel about .  .  .       /    anonymous asked: How do you feel about Catherine?

               ‘   honestly   ?    catherine's fuckin' insane.  ’   palms heavenward  ,  you speak as if it's fact rather than opinion.   ‘  seriously  !!  she comes off all cutesy but then the bitch just metamorphs into some psycho at the smallest thing .  and don't get me started on how many times I gotta hear about who she fucked and sucked like I give a damn  .  ’  fingers run through blonde tresses in a back and forth motion  ,  imitating a scrubbing gesture .  the vulgar and graphic detail catherine decided to regail you with was still too much to store in memory  .  soonafter  ,  there's a sigh  ,  hands flopping back down on your lap .  ‘  but really  ,  catherine seems fearless  .  like  ,  the girl literally just lives in the moment  ———  doesn't think about yesterday or tomorrow  ,  just now  .  the shit she does is with no regrets , but that ain't always a good thing .  still   .  .  .  maybe just a little ———   ’  you pause  ,  emphasizing the word little with your thumb and pointer finger almost touching one -another . ‘  ————  I kinda envy the broad  .  just a little . ’  

[diamondborn]

"Ah, yes, yes, I understand now." The owner nodded. He understood too well about newcomers in this subject, especially if they had a lot of doubt, as for example for Alyssa. Quite a daring one for her first piercing, but he definitely could make it work. Honestly her questions did make him chuckle a little, a bit exaggerated, but her concerns were understandable.

"I won't lie to you, you will feel a little. A sting for most people who have done this. No, all of my clients are well. And usually it's a small needle for standard piercings. Of course, it all depends what kind of piercings you want to have."

He then walked towards her, with a gentle smile on his face. "I understand you may have fears for getting a piercing, and believe me, we all have at some point. My parents opened this very store, and I took it over from them, so we always strive for the customer's satisfactory. Of course, the decision is entirely up to you, there is no shame if you would change your mind, but if you wish for one and ready for it, I can promise you, I will take good care of you, as delicate and gentle as I ever can be, like to my previous clients. I'm sure Catherine would agree with my statements."

alyssa gets shiny new things!   (  feat. catherine  )   /   UNPROMPTED.

               as catherine prattled on  ,  you resisted all urge to roll your eyes   :  you were still looking to pry catherine's nails from your shoulders and turn to exit the establishment  .  however   ,  the proprietor spoke with such confidence and passion you couldn't help but feel comfortable  .  with a small chuckle  ,  you nod in response  .   ‘   wow  ,  love that  .  support small businesses  ,  am I right  ?   ’   from one entrepreneur to another ,  you couldn't knock his hustle  .  from what it sounded like  ,  he had an extensive clientele  (   ———  including catherine's unhinged ass  )  and surely he's worked with anxious people like you before.

         ‘  alright  ,  alright  ,  ya'convinced me .  I know a good owner when I see one .  I originally just wanted a belly button piercin' but I guess I can live a little .  ’  and that's when catherine clapped her hands together  ,  jumping in place .  ‘  oh my gosh  ,  alyssa   !!   I knew you'd come to your senses  .  actually  ,  you're going to love the feeling  ,  some parts that get pinched actually feels orgasmic when ———  ’   instantly  ,  you raise your hand to pause her  .   ‘  annnnnd that's where i'm gonna stop ya  .  ’   there's a deep exhale.   ‘  alright  ,  let's do this before my senses come back and I realize i'm supposed to be scared again .  ’ 

[diamondborn]

The bell from his front door was ringing, as the shop owner paid his attention for who was entering inside. And he saw a familiar face. “Oh, Catherine! Nice to see you again! Are you here for another piercing or perhaps a new tattoo?” Which it seemed she was accompanied with someone else. “Hi, I can take it you’re her friend?” He smiled at the other.

alyssa gets shiny new things!   ( feat. catherine ) .   /   UNPROMPTED.

             ‘   hellooooo !! ~  ’     catherine's cheerful voice resonated throughout the establishment , left hand happily waving whilst the right slithered around you ,  pulling your body close to her  .  your face currently conveyed irritation , annoyance , DESPERATE TO LEAVE .   of course , like most , catherine love knew how to get people to do what she wanted ——— sadly , you fell into her trap too .

so , you half - listened as she went on and on , resisting the urge to roll your eyes . you did , however , manage to catch the following .  ‘  sooooo , I still love my wonderful little trinket , and i'm thinking of getting my cute little gems done next . . . BUT !!  this day is all about my dear alyssa here . she's getting her nipples pierced today !  ’

gripping your right arm , oceanic hues avert towards the floor and a crimson tint coats your cheeks from embarrassment .  ‘ . . . yeah , ’  a pause  ‘ . . . more like a pain in the ass we all get  .  a - anyway , hello , yeah , i'm gettin' the ——— uhhh ——— things . ’  nervousness takes you  ,  your hands making slightly indistinct gestures .   ‘   so , this procedure . does it hurt ?  ’   ( that was obvious . )  ‘ have people died from this ?  ’  ( rather irrational. )  ‘ how big is this damned needle ?!  ’ ( maybe it's best you didn't ask that one. )

&&   that's when catherine cuts in.   ‘  sorry , she's not used to this type of . . . fun.  ~  think you can take good care of her like you have with me ? ’

[diamondborn]

“ the  best  flavor  of  ice  cream  is …  all  of  them !  they’re  all  the  best ! ”

animal crossing starters.   /   CURRENTLY ACCEPTING!

             ‘   see , I don't think i'm the best person to be commentin' on this  , 'cause I can't eat any of it ———— well , if it got dairy in it .  lactose free  ,  however , then we're talkin' !   ’  you're a sorbet kind of girl anyway , if we're being honest .  ‘  actually , lemme take ya'to this ice cream parlor around the way . I think ya'would like it . ’