#BY ‘INSPIRED’ I JUST MEAN I LISTENED TO THE SONG ON A LOOP WHILE WRITING AND NEEDED AN EXCUSE TO MENTION IT BC IT’S SO FCKING GOOD SORRY

[gutsby]

Stuck

Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel gets nominated to play Santa Claus for Jackson’s holiday festivities. Of course, you’re into that.

Warnings: 18+. Unprotected piv. Breeding kink. Age gap. Santa Clause kink (it’s brief). F!Oral. Omitting one tag to avoid spoiling the ending—please read at your own risk.

Note: Kinda inspired by Otis Redding’s Try a Little Tenderness

Word count: 5.5k

“Give your old man a kiss before he leaves?”

The invitation shouldn’t have made you as wet as it did. But it had. And Joel just grinned, lips twitching beneath his big fake beard and palms pulling you toward his body.

The kiss had had to be wholesome and quick. Before long, he’d be surrounded by a sea of eager, wide-eyed, and awe-stricken children in the middle of Jackson’s town square, and what sort of example would you be setting if you were the girl caught kissing Santa Claus?

It wouldn’t rally much confidence in Father Christmas, if either of you had had to guess. You let him go. With a soft, innocuous tug of his belt buckle and a pat on his padded belly, you’d promised to be extra good while he was gone and leave more than just milk and cookies out for him later. Joel had blinked twice, and in the glint of one look, you could tell he’d wanted to say much more.

But then Tommy, dressed as an elf and scowling like Ebenezer Scrooge, had tugged him off your porch.

“You can get those cookies later, Nick. Let’s go.”

And that had been the last you’d seen of the pair before you’d snuck off to see Maria about Joel’s secret gift.

Now, two hours later in the glow of a roaring fire and near-unbearable excitement, you were perched on the sofa. Sitting with your knees tucked underneath you and a glass of milk, a tray of cookies, and a small, rectangular box tied with a bow set beside you on the coffee table.

You really hoped Joel would like his present.

You also guessed it wouldn’t hurt that you were currently half-naked in a ruby red satin teddy for his return home.

As soon as you heard the creak of the front door, you straightened up. You watched a body shuffle in, head bowed and shaking snow off his sprayed-white locks. Joel looked perfectly ancient in his present get-up: thick black boots, velvet crimson pantsuit, chest-length beard, and lopsided hat. He looked haggard and adorable, too. You could tell by the way he kicked off his shoes and left them stranded by the door he was absolutely drained by the events of that night—dealing with every kid in town under the age of ten likely hadn’t been his first choice.

But now he was here. Joel had been so preoccupied with getting off his boots that he hadn’t even seen you on the couch, and the instant his gaze landed on you, it froze.

“Baby…” he groaned.

His whole face softened, like he couldn’t believe the sight in front of him then, and his arms stretched out for you.

He looked childlike, almost, with the way he lumbered over. His limbs were heavy, and they felt that way coming to crash over your cowered frame on the sofa. You leapt back and squealed, only to feel two big palms grab you by the hips and pin you underneath him. Joel’s breaths were warm, and his eyes were alight with rapt intrigue.

“This all for me?” he asked, sliding his hands down your thighs and in between them. He cursed feeling the heat.

You had to bite back a laugh at how silly this looked—Santa Clause, a staple of your childhood, prying your legs apart and all but drooling at the sight inside. Pawing at your legs, then at your hips, then at the band of your panties beneath the tulle hemline of your teddy. It felt fun in a depraved sort of way. You felt naughty, like you might not want to share Joel’s gift with him until after all the fun was over. But, deep down, you weren’t that cruel.

“Don’t you wanna see your gift? Have your milk and cookies?” you asked sweetly, just narrowly managing to slide an arm out from underneath Joel’s weight and pointing to the assortment of goodies on the table.

Joel looked that way briefly, but then his gaze was back on you. Its warmth was smoldering. Darkening in time.

“Later. Santa’s got a bone to pick with you first.”

You squealed again as fingers hooked in your panties.

“But— but— you’ll really like this gift, Joel. Really.”

“Yeah? Already got one for you right here, kiddo.”

In a crass, graceless sort of gesture, Joel removed one hand from you to grab his crotch, and shake it firmly—‘Got a good seven inches of this gift to share, sugar’—and from there, you had no choice but to acquiesce. If Joel really didn’t mind putting off his gift for yours, at first, that was on him. You leaned back to get comfy.

“If you insist.” The smile you flashed him was coy.

Knowing, as your underwear was slid down your legs and Joel nestled in between them on the couch. You propped your head on a pillow and watched, feeling another small wave of sick nostalgia wash over your senses; Joel was still fully dressed as Kris Kringle stripping you naked.

He’d just moved to pull off the white beard, tied snug with a string, when you reached down and stopped him.

“Leave it,” you said, voice quavering with the threat of a giggle. This was insane. “Leave the beard. Leave all of it.”

Joel flashed you a look with a brow cocked up, confused.

“You want me to eat you out as Santa Clause?” he asked.

He grinned, and you almost laughed again. His expression was still puzzled—mixed with arousal, the look suited him well—and before he could say another word, you just nodded. Shimmied your red panties the rest of the way down and kicked them off at your feet.

But when Joel reached for your legs to pull you closer to him, you slipped off the couch. Your limp, shimmering frock that barely covered the globes of your ass underneath it brushed the bare skin as you darted off.

You’d meant it to be playful. Joel couldn’t brush aside gift-giving and get his way quite that easily. You stood on your own two feet, pivoting back to face him before starting to make your way toward the stairs. You waved.

“Okay. Give me a minute. If you’re giving me my present now, I need to get the rest of yours ready. It’s…upstairs.”

Joel’s—or Santa’s—whole face dropped. He stood.

“That wasn’t the deal, kiddo. You before me.”

He was already pacing after you, slowly at first; then, when your feet reached the first step, he broke off in a run. You screamed, and tried to tear your way up the rest of the stairs, but before more than four thuds had sounded on the wood, you were being thrust back in Joel’s arms—hoisted off your feet, and carried to the living room without another breath or pause from him. You kicked your feet, pretended to be indignant, and were smiling to yourself, inwardly, the whole time. He would really be kicking himself for this later, you knew.

“Gonna be a good little girl for Santa and stay put now?” he huffed, setting you down on your feet. Rather than heading for the couch, he’d placed you on the rug by the warmth of the fireplace and the winking lights of the Christmas tree, where he knew you felt coziest. And, in the glow of both, he could drink the view in completely.

You dropped to the floor where you knew he wanted you.

Still smiling. Fighting a laugh: “Yes, daddy. I’ll be good.”

Joel laid you back. Spread your legs. Tugged your butt right where he wanted it beside the fire and slotted his torso in between your thighs. Your body was practically humming with anticipation as he brought his head lower.

The fluffy white bobble at the end of his hat swung in front of his face, preventing his mouth from sinking in.

He groaned.

“Fuckin’ kids.” He batted the thing out of his way.

“Been toyin’ with my hat and beard all goddamn night. You’d think I was a…a jungle gym to those little hellions,” Joel added with an edge of taut frustration to his voice.

You knew he’d liked the ‘hellion’ antics, whether he was willing to admit it or not. He’d pretend to be pissed at the kids for being kids, but deep down, he was always more than willing to oblige. He’d practically volunteered to take on the role of Santa before the ballot had even been cast for who’d get to play the Big Red Man for the festivities.

He was your old man. A softie at heart.

Hard in other places, but that was just how you liked it.

He spread your legs with both of his hands and practically moaned at what lay before him now.

You were wet. Glistening. In the light of the fireplace and the evergreen behind him, he could see it all too clearly: how pretty and slick and shiny you were along your slit. You’d been patient awaiting his return, and he could tell. Though you were dripping nectar through your folds, you hadn’t smeared one drop with your fingers—you sat like a gleaming, unwrapped present for the man to devour.

And maybe it felt wrong, all swollen and stiff beneath his costume pants and his hair dusted white to make him look even older than he was—about 1,700 years, give or take, instead of fifty-nine—but the look in his eyes said he wanted it all. He felt raw, and needy, and debased.

You liked seeing Joel this way. You liked feeling wrong.

It was what most of Jackson thought of you, anyway. What had taken Tommy, Maria, and the closest of your friends the longest time to accept, nearly all of your neighbors still thought was pretty strange: how Joel was decades your senior and you two were dating—happily. What they were liable to think when the news of you trying for a baby spread in town was anyone’s guess.

Joel seemed to forget all that as his head sank lower. He forked two of his big, meaty fingers in the shape of a ‘V’ and pushed your folds apart in just the way you liked, and he breathed out slow, warm puffs of air over your cunt. You shuddered, and you waited for his tongue.

“Baby…” he trailed off again.

“Yeah?” Your voice was tight.

A beat of silence passed.

“I’m…probably gonna need to take off the beard.”

You breathed out a soft, reflexive laugh, and you didn’t protest. Joel tugged down the big, white, wiry clump of hair from his face and let his other, shorter one surface.

This one wasn’t white, but it was a handsome black and grey, with a lot more of a silver sheen to its these days. You smiled as Joel drew closer, and that smile only faltered a little as the man kissed your inner thigh.

He did the same to the other leg. He dragged his mouth down the skin toward your center and let his lips part a little. He kissed you again, this time at the top of your mound. It made an extra low, almost lewd sort of sound. He rubbed his nose against your lower belly, and the contrast of the weathered texture to your own was stark.

Joel was old. He looked it even more with his hair painted white and his mouth hovering over your slit.

“She been good this year?” he hummed, peering up.

Before you could answer, Joel’s tongue slid out, and he drew a fat, wet line over the seam of your pussy. Your hips jolted in response, and his free hand held you down.

“She tastes good,” he went on in the most casual tone.

Then, without further warning, his jaw slackened some more and he started lapping at the tender flesh beneath it. He dragged his tongue through the thick, stringy mess and closed his eyes, like he was savoring the taste. His lips curled, and he kissed you again—this time, it closed around your clit, and he suckled you gently. With the first wet pop and a sickening squelch from his mouth, your eyes nearly rolled back in your head; Joel’s opened again as he flashed you a shit-eating grin between your legs.

“She’s been real good for me this year, hasn’t she, hon?” And he squeezed your leg to indicate he wanted a reply.

You tried to answer, but it came out garbled and weak:

“So good, daddy. So— so—”

Oh.

Joel’s fingers moved from their forked position to push his index inside your weeping hole. At the same time, the tip of his tongue flicked delicately against your clit. The two parts of him moved in tandem, and from the feeling of both, you had to bite your lip to keep from letting out a cry. Your hand reached down to grab his hair, but all it could find was that goddamn Santa hat. Joel snickered.

With his lips, tongue, and finger still working your needy cunt, he couldn’t help but smile as you cast the hat aside

“Damn thing,” you cursed, fingers lacing through his hair.

“Language, young lady,” Joel murmured.

Like he was one to talk.

You made a fist with the chalky white locks and rutted your hips the tiniest bit, too flush with pleasure to give a single fuck what words came out of your mouth, and from the way Joel grinned and slid a second finger inside, you had only to guess he didn’t mind either.

He could pretend, though. He licked a little harder, then:

“She’s gonna be sweet for her old man, isn’t she?”

“Y— yes, she is.”

“Nice and polite before she gets this cock?”

“I promise.”

Appearing satisfied with this response, or else simply wanting to bring you to the edge and make you cum on his tongue, Joel wedged his fingers even deeper, then curled them. He brushed the soft, fleshy wall in a beckoning motion and, at the same time, sucked your nub between his lips. He felt you tense, heard you moan, and likely sensed there was no better time for his tongue to dart out again. Just as he released your clit from its airtight kiss, he was back licking circles on the tender, swollen thing, eyes flitting up to yours to hold their gaze.

“Daddy,” you whimpered.

When his fingers curled another time, you cried out.

Your brain was on the fritz; your heels were digging in the rug, stomach tight as it had ever been, and your hands seemed to move with a mind of their own. One was gripping Joel’s hair, giving you leverage to cant your hips against his face, and the other was palming your breast through the thin lace fabric of your teddy. You craved stimulation—couldn’t breathe without the feel of something on you, and in you, as you were about to cum.

Joel nodded his soft approval. He watched you fondle yourself and seemed enthralled, even from where he lay.

“That’s it, baby. Touch yourself while daddy licks your pussy. Lemme see how good she’s feelin’, sweetheart.”

His words were all the propulsion you needed and more. You pinched your nipple through the fabric, whined at the pleasure wrought by your fingers and by Joel’s simultaneously, and felt an even deeper twist in your gut. You grip constricted in his hair; you didn’t need to speak.

“She’s right there, isn’t she? I know that feels nice, baby,” Joel groaned, voice low, “Gonna cum for daddy now?”

You whined. You gripped tighter. Your body needed this.

“C’mon, hon. Let me have it. Cum on daddy’s tongue.”

Two more strokes of his tongue, a gentle thrust of his fingers, and the brush of your own touch across taut, pebbled flesh was enough. The next second had you clamping down on Joel’s hand and giving him all you possibly could, lips parted and spilling a feverish, shrill whine while your orgasm washed over you. Your toes curled into the rug, and Joel pressed your hips down as his tongue fucked you through it. He licked and sucked and coaxed your needy walls again and again; he felt you tremble, and he let your wet essence soak him through.

By the time you were done, his face was glistening.

He lifted his head from between your legs, gaze wild and lips shiny with your full release. He licked them, elated.

“All good, hon?”

“Amazing.”

You let out a shaky breath and pet his hair. Joel smiled.

“Wanna go upstairs? Be a little comfier in the bed, I bet,” he offered, slowly starting to rise, before wincing. Then when his knees audibly cracked, “Your old man needs it.”

You had no doubt about that. You sat up and smiled, and let him lift you to your feet along with him. Another snap.

“Aw, hell,” Joel hissed, shaking his head.

You wrapped an arm around his waist before pacing another step. He leaned a little into you, though not too much, and you couldn’t help but flash him an arch look.

“Did your wishlist include new kneecaps, by chance?”

“No ma’am. Just stronger hands to spank with.”

Joel didn’t miss a beat, grinning down at you.

You would’ve returned with something equally cheeky and light, had you not remembered that thing close by.

“Wait, wait—your present!”

Joel eyed the square box as you retrieved it. His eyes flashed with curiosity before you reappeared under his arm and helped him start up the stairs. He walked, and let out a soft groan, and when you’d made it halfway up, he shook his head at you again. It was slow but emphatic

“Gotta finish your gift first, sweetheart,” he murmured.

And, try as you might to get an inch of give after that, you sensed fighting Joel’s generosity was futile by then. You knew him well enough to guess that he’d only be satisfied receiving his present once yours had been properly secured with another orgasm, and his spend dribbled in big, thick rivers down the insides of your legs.

You heaved a sigh and smiled, walking slowly with him.

Joel, if you only knew.

Despite his best efforts, the man still couldn’t work out how he’d ever gotten so lucky to find something like this—someone like you. As his hips worked their way up to a near-desperate pace, bordering on frenzied as he fucked into you, Joel decided that he wouldn’t bother guessing.

He’d accept this for what it was: a gift he didn’t deserve.

The two of you hadn’t even gotten around to the business of unwrapping your presents yet, and Joel already knew that he had it all just looking down at you.

With your back arched and your hands making fists in the sheets beside your head, wet and glistening cunt accepting each one of his thrusts and squeezing him tight on every stroke, Joel had to steel himself just feeling how good you were, knowing how well you fit him in every way, and sensing this was as close to replete happiness as he’d ever get. He couldn’t ask for more.

Even without a baby, he knew things would be okay.

The two of you had been trying for months now, wholly without success of yet. There had been the night he’d bought a blue pill and fucked you four times in one day, and you’d told him at the end of it all that your period was late. But then you’d bled the next morning, and your hopes, for the present moment, had been dashed away.

No pregnancy hopes since then had amounted to anything else, and at length, you’d agreed not to let it get your spirits down—or try not to, anyway. You’d fuck as often as you could, but you wouldn’t let the thought of wanting a baby make the process less fun for you now.

That didn’t mean Joel couldn’t remind you every now and then what you were hoping the endgame would be.

Presently, he leaned over your prone body on the bed and pressed his lips to your ear. He ground his hips against your ass so his cock wedged itself all the way in to the hilt, and when the tip was just threatening to graze the edge of your cervix, he dropped a kiss on your cheek.

“Want me to put a baby right here?” He spoke gently.

Your walls clenched around him involuntarily, and your head reared back to fall against his shoulder. Joel took this as his opportunity to start peppering more kisses. He knew how much you liked the dirty talk while he was deep inside, talking about how much he wanted to blow his load and knock you up. It was a melting point for you both, and he sensed that you wouldn’t last long after it.

He had your head tilted to his, your lips spilling moan after moan as his dick plunged further inside and your eyes struggling to stay open. They flitted between his, and they gave him a hopeful look. You managed a smile.

“Right…right there, daddy,” you whimpered out.

Another sound escaped your mouth and flooded his, and Joel couldn’t help it: he kissed you, and he fucked in deeper. He couldn’t have wanted this more if he tried.

His forehead was slick with sweat, as was yours. Your bodies were grinding together—Joel’s soft, warm belly filling the concave space where your spine curved down, and he rutted repeatedly into you, like an animal in heat.

His face was right beside yours as his teeth gritted out:

“My sweet girl want a baby in her for Christmas, that it?”

Again, you whined and rolled your hips against his, nodding your head, and the look in your eyes was wild.

“Baby—please. Please fuck your baby in me, Joel.”

Joel could do more than that. Much more. Ask him for twins, triplets, or however many kids you could’ve wanted, and he would’ve given it to you then.

He wished it were that simple, and he could’ve knocked you up and made you happy a long time ago, but sadly, that hadn’t been in the cards for you two. Joel shortly brushed that thought away, not wanting to lose his momentum or delay the oncoming orgasm about to rattle your body underneath him. He kissed your shoulder this time, thrusting with his stiff, wet cock in just the way you liked, and in seconds, he got what he wanted—what you needed, clearly, as your muscles seized and your lips let out a sharp, shrill cry in response.

Joel held you to him as long as he could. He felt you melt into the bed and only held your body tighter, rutting his hips at their relentless pace to keep your pleasure alive. He heard you whine, tell him to cum inside me, daddy, please, and from that point on, he sensed he’d have to slow a little. It couldn’t be helped. When he came, he had to pin you down and fill you completely—take his time working his spend inside your needy, pulsing cunt, and when he was done, just keep you there. Let you feel him. It was a satisfaction unlike any other for you both, and it was one he’d come to love these last few months. He stilled inside you, feeling his cum coating every inch of your walls around him, and he grinned. You let out a sigh.

“So I…I made the ‘Nice’ list, Mr. Clause?” you panted.

Joel’s head dropped to yours in a short, rumbling laugh.

His dick twitched inside you, and his belly growled a bit. He definitely should’ve taken you up on those cookies.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d say we’re square,” he breathed back.

How long you laid like that was anyone’s guess. Joel didn’t bother keeping track of the seconds or the minutes spent splayed out over your body; he only sensed when he was starting to go soft and you wriggled your hips underneath. He shifted and let you flip around.

His cock now completely out and a smile touching your lips as you turned to face him, your gaze flitted to his.

“Can you go get me one of your shirts, please?”

You were also both stark naked, thanks to the lightning-quick stripdown you’d both done the second you’d made it to the bedroom. Though Joel was sleepy, he knew the routine: get you a shirt, get him a clean pair of boxers, and get the two of you off to sleep. It’d been a long day.

“Yes, dear,” he answered dutifully.

He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose before rising. He padded his slow, heavy feet over to the dresser at the opposite end of the room, and he opened the top drawer.

“Second one, please. With the flannels,” you called out.

Okay.

Joel snagged a pair of underwear for himself, then went to the next drawer to get you a flannel to wear, since the scorching heat of your house evidently wasn’t enough to keep you warm. He smiled to himself, about to crack a wiseass comment about you being cold-blooded or something, when the man was obliged to stop. He took one look inside, dropped his boxers, and paused a spell.

When Joel started again, it wasn’t to speak—he just turned and lifted the first thing he saw in the drawer.

“Wha—oh, shoot. I was supposed to wrap that,” you said swiftly, wincing as he held it. Still smiling at him, though.

“Seems a little small to be a gift for me, don’t you think?”

In his grasp was a miniature onesie. Beneath it, in the drawer you’d directed him to, there had been at least four more just like it. All soft, pastel-colored, and small.

Your smile stretched even wider as you shook your head.

“It’s from Maria and Tommy. More of a…future present, for the two of us,” you shrugged, pushing to sit up in bed.

Joel eyed you a moment. He wasn’t sure what to say.

On your face, he saw hope and excitement etched bright. Like you were fine to keep waiting on this ‘future,’ no matter the duration. One glimpse of that and Joel felt a lump the size of his fist in his throat. He walked over.

And it had to be the last thing you wanted to see, surely—him setting the onesie down, dropping beside you in bed, then fumbling gracelessly, uselessly, to hold you.

Feeling every bit the remorseful, too-old man who couldn’t give you what you wanted. He wanted it, too.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he blurted out, unthinking. He pulled you to his chest; within his own, his heart was pounding, “I know…I know it’s taking us awhile. That’s my fault—”

“Joel.”

“My cum’s as old as dust and that’s probably why—”

“You don’t—”

“—you aren’t pregnant yet. I know it’s frustrating for—”

“Seriously, Joel—”

“—you to deal with. All of that disappointment, I mean—”

“JOEL.”

“What?”

His pulse was still thudding away. You blinked once.

Then, in a slow but deliberate path, your gaze trailed over to the nightstand. Joel’s followed after in similar fashion.

“You still haven’t opened your present,” you said. Stern.

It wasn’t the tone Joel had been expecting to hear at all.

And when you handed him the box, he felt his blood pressure spike. Absently, he thought that couldn’t be safe for a man his age. He couldn’t even tell what it held, and still, the prospect of it had him anxious beyond words. He turned it over; something rattled inside.

‘Go on, Joel.’ Your voice coaxed him gentler then.

And he did, though his fingers trembled some.

The weight in his grip could’ve been an ounce, a pound, or a ton, and his hands would’ve shaken all the same. Joel felt a current pulse through him as he slid the lid off.

Then he just stared.

His eyes widened.

“That’s…”

“Exactly what I have been trying to give you all night!” You laughed. The sound was light, not derisive or cruel.

When he looked up to you, your cheeks were as full and high as he’d seen them all day—you were smiling so big.

That made him think that this wasn’t a joke. Or a dream.

Surely his brain couldn’t have contrived both the most perfect, blinding smile on your face and a slim, white, pink-capped little stick with a ‘+’ on the screen at once.

It still hadn’t hit him completely, though, so he blinked.

“Really?” His voice was hoarse. Vacillating.

“Really.” Yours was more certain. Happy.

And, while the truth of it was slow to seep in, Joel knew he couldn’t waste another moment. He didn’t think—just pulled you in and squeezed you to him as tight as a vice. He couldn’t think—the rush of his blood in his ears and the puffs of your breath and the clatter of that positive pregnancy test in its box, discarded, were all too much.

As soon as he squeezed, your next breath was a sob.

“I meant to tell you, Joel. I meant to. I’m…I’m sorry.”

Your confession came out muffled against his chest, though Joel heard it all with total clarity. In a blink, he had you drawn back a little, just so he could hold your face and search your gaze with his own in a wide look.

Before he could even speak, he saw the tears welling up, as if coming from nowhere. You were still trying to smile.

“It’s been weeks. Since…since my period. I just—” With a wince that could’ve shredded Joel’s insides in two, you went on, “—I couldn’t stand disappointing you again.”

The same way he’d felt. Why you couldn’t tell him.

“Baby, hey, no— no. No, no, no. Please don’t say that.”

It was all Joel could do to keep his own emotions at bay.

“After the last time, and the— and the way you looked so happy at the thought of being a dad, I…I…had to be sure. Maria got me a test, and we triple-checked.” You sniffled.

Moving to wipe at tears as if any of this was your fault. Joel’s thumbs only grew more fervent in their path to smear the moisture away, and his head kept shaking back and forth—‘No, sweetheart, that’s not on you. Don’t even think that. Come here.’—as he tried to be a comfort. He couldn’t be happier. He hoped you were too. While tears engulfed his hands, he hoped you would be.

Even if his bones were old and his knees were weaker than he wanted them to be; even if you couldn’t count on two hands how many years stretched out between you and the decades made it seem like forever to the people in town. Even if this baby was the first, and last, you had.

Joel just wanted you happy.

It was all he could ask to have.

“We’re gonna be parents,” you said, half in awe.

You blinked harder and more tears slid down, but the look behind them was brighter. Your eyes were on his.

“We’re gonna be parents,” Joel repeated, “You and me.”

Then he pinched your puffy, wet cheeks, pictured a baby that looked the tiniest bit like you, and he had to lean in. He kissed slower than he meant to—had to savor you.

A baby.

His baby.

Your eyes were a little wider when he pulled away.

“Happy with your present, daddy?” you teased.

Joel blinked, and he thought of the dozen-odd boxes he had laid out under the tree downstairs—all for you to unwrap in the morning—and he realized then that you had him soundly beat in the gift department that year. Though none of what he’d bought could even hope to hold a candle to what you’d given him tonight, there were still ways to try and make it up. Say thank you.

“I love my present. And I love you.” Joel answered softly.

And just as you smiled, were about to slide back under the covers and tell him you loved him just as much, he grabbed your ankle. Started to lower himself after you.

Your eyes widened more.

“Joel Miller.”

His smirk widened right back.

“One more present before bed?”

You might’ve rolled your eyes, but you let him climb over you just the same. You felt his weight shift over yours, sensed a familiar stir in the depths of your body, and peered up to meet a matching smile you knew you’d find.

Joel was beaming from ear to ear like this was the luckiest day he’d lived to see. Like he couldn’t wait to show how glad he was to be a dad—over and over again.

“Just wanna make sure we made it…stick, y’know?”

He was grinning now. Gently laying you down.

You sighed, smiled, and spread your legs.

“Too late. You’re stuck with me, Miller.”

“Yeah? I like the sound of that.”

“What?”

“Stuck.”

[lemoncrushh]

Her Album

Summary: Harry has finished recording his album, and he wants her to hear it.

Warnings: Angst, lots of feelings

Word Count: 2.9k+

A/N: A short one-shot written in 2019 in first person from Harry's POV. While this is not necessarily a reader fic, the woman's name is never mentioned. This was written before Fine Line was out, so it's pretty wild to think about it now.

The album was done. I’d made a visit to the studio to hear the final mix and then had lunch with Jeffrey and Glenne. As I drove home, I listened to the songs again in the car, deciding not to stop at my house when I got there, but instead to keep going so I could give one last listen straight through.

I’m not sure how I ended up on her street. It used to be automatic, like taking my shoes off before my trousers, or putting the cap back on the toothpaste. I’d driven down her block so many times before, I probably knew it better than my own neighbourhood.

I sat in the car for a long time, staring up at her window. I wasn’t even sure if she was home. I couldn’t tell if a light was on, but it was the middle of the day and that window was her bedroom, so she could’ve been anywhere else inside. I let the album loop around to the first track again, the opening chords hitting me in the chest just like the first time I’d heard them.

I wanted her to hear them too. I wanted her to listen to the melodies and have them bring back the memories that had inspired me to write them. I wanted her to listen to my lyrics and know they were all about her, even the ones that weren’t as obvious. Songs about love and loss. Songs about sex and lust and forbidden fruit. Songs that sounded like they were about something completely different, hidden behind loose meanings and innuendos.

But they were all about her.

I scrolled through my phone and opened the contacts to her name. We hadn’t spoken in weeks, maybe even months. I’d lost count. Being in the studio had helped to heal my broken heart, and my pride, but it certainly hadn’t erased her memory. She was with me every single day, every moment that I worked on a song.

I almost tapped on her name, my thumb grazing over it. But I stopped myself, turning off my phone, and then my engine. Climbing out of the car, I walked around it to the pavement in front of her building, once again looking up at her window. For a second I considered being like John Cusack in Say Anything, holding up an 80s boom box and serenading her with my music so she’d notice. But I reckoned that was borderline stalking, not to mention disturbing the neighbours, so I made my way to the stairs and climbed them to the second floor.

I stopped in front of her door, staring at it for a good two to three minutes before I even lifted my hand. I took several breaths, wondering if I was making a mistake. She probably didn’t wanna see me, let alone talk to me. She didn’t give a shit about my album. She had moved on.

But I was there. I felt like something had brought me there for a reason, and that reason was to play her my music. Let her know exactly how I felt about her - how she drove me crazy and how she’d hurt me and how I’d hurt her. How in love with her I’d been. How I still…

Finally, I knocked, a little too softly at first, but I didn’t want to startle her. At least that’s what I told myself. When no one responded, however, I knocked again, much louder and with determination.

“Jesus, I’m coming!” I heard her yell from inside. “Hold your-”

She stood before me with a half-eaten apple in her hand, her mouth open and her eyes wide. She wore a t-shirt and shorts, her hair pulled back in a loose bun and no makeup. She looked beautiful.

“Hey,” I said, my voice not quite cooperating so I sounded like a frog.

“Harry.” She said my name in almost a question, though she knew it was me. She just wondered why it was me.

When she didn’t say anything else, I shifted my eyes up and down the hall and shrugged.

“Can I come in?”

I admit, I expected her to nod and step back to let me inside her apartment. But when she shook her head, my face fell.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she remarked.

“Um...why not?”

“Because…” she began, her tone hard as steel, “I just got over you.”

“Over me?” I gulped.

“Yeah. It’s taken me a while, but I finally am,” she explained, placing the apple on the table by the door. Then wiping her hands on her shorts, she leaned against the door frame. “You haven’t shown your face here in nearly three months. I can’t just let you waltz on in here and undo everything.”

“‘m not…” I stumbled, “‘m not undoing anything.”

“Then why are you here?”

Her gorgeous but stern eyes glared at me, piercing through my heart. I looked down at my feet, thinking I’d made a mistake by coming. She didn’t want any more to do with me. I’d waited too long and missed the window. Maybe there hadn’t even been one.

Lifting my head, I looked at her beautiful face again. It was then that I recognized the shirt she was wearing - my old AC/DC t-shirt.

“Looks like you’re not completely over me,” I pointed. I dunno why I said it. It was petty and juvenile.

“What?” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“You’re wearing my shirt.”

She looked down at the emblem on her chest, seemingly just realizing what she had on. With a sigh, she dropped her arms.

“I just like it,” she said, her head held high. “And you basically gave it to me anyway.”

“No, I didn’t.” Shut up, H, you’re making it worse, I thought to myself.

“Well, you left it here. And I ended up sleeping in it. And you never came back, so…” She crossed her arms again in defense.

She was right. The last time I’d been in her apartment, we’d had a massive fight, and I’d told her it was over and stormed out. She’d tried calling and texting me for a couple days, but I’d ignored her, stubborn with pride. When I’d finally agreed to talk to her again, I was only being a right twat, unable to see or accept her side. So, we only ended up fighting again until she said she needed some space.

“I was giving you your space,” I muttered, knowing damn well I sounded like a wanker.

“For six weeks?” she snorted and shook her head. “You have some nerve, Harry.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“What was that?” she stepped closer to me, her brows furrowed. “Did you really just say you’re sorry?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Sorry for what? For breaking my heart? For being a dickhead? For not calling or texting or even saying one word to me for freaking ever? For telling me it was over in the first place? Or for showing up here now when I’m finally over you?”

I blinked. “All of it,” I admitted.

Her lips twitched, and for a second I thought she was going to smile.

“Fuck you, Harry!” she exclaimed.

Stepping back, she grabbed the door, ready to slam it. But I brought my hand up and stopped it.

“I want you to listen to it,” I said, remembering why I’d come.

“Why should I listen to you?” she asked, her voice cracking.

“Not to me. To the album. It’s finished, and I want you to hear it.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t be serious. You came here so I’d listen to your new music? You really are a douchebag.”

“No, you don’t understand, I-“

“You’re right, I don’t,” she interrupted. “But seems to me you had weeks to explain yourself, Harry. I’m done crying over you.”

She was about to shut the door again when I called out, “I’ve been crying over you, too!”

She stood still, her hand on the door that was opened only a crack. Leaning her forehead against it, I could tell she was holding back tears. I didn’t want her to cry now, at least not over this.

“Liar,” she croaked.

“It’s not a lie, ba-” I almost called her baby, but I knew she wouldn’t like that. Not yet. “Please. Let me in. You don’t even have to talk. Just listen to the album.”

I stood silent for a moment, watching her eyelashes flutter against her pink cheeks. Finally, she let out a sigh and stepped back, opening the door to allow me to step inside.

“Thanks,” I muttered low as she closed the door behind me.

She didn’t reply. In fact, she didn’t even look at me as she grabbed her half eaten apple and went into the kitchen. I stood in the middle of the living room, waiting for her return.

“Okay,” she gestured toward me as she plopped onto the couch. “Go ahead.”

Spotting her laptop on the coffee table, I pointed. “Do you mind?”

She merely nodded and I sat down next to her and opened it. Then sliding my hand into my pocket, I pulled out the USB drive and plugged it in, bringing up the files I’d saved in the studio. With a click of the mouse, the first track began to play, those familiar chords ringing once again. I sat back and watched her, waiting for some kind of reaction on her face.

But none came.

Not when the first track ended, nor when the second song started, the first lyric blatantly about her. I started to get restless, rubbing my palms on my knees and bouncing my leg. I ran my fingers through my hair, a habit she used to tell me was endearing, only now she didn’t give any indication that she even noticed.

Finally, during the third song, I saw her make the slightest move, leaning against the arm of the sofa and resting her head in her hand. We made eye contact for a second before she quickly looked away, her eyes hazy. I wondered what she was thinking. I wanted so badly to ask, to pry it out of her, but I’d promised she needn’t talk.

We were halfway through the album when I caught more movement out of the corner of my eye. I’d been sat with my head down, unable to look at her during track seven, the most intimate and personal song I’d written. My gaze lifted to her, and I noticed her shoulders were shaking. Her head was still in her hand, her cheeks now wet with tears.

I wanted to reach out, to hold her in my arms. God, I wanted that so bad. But I let her be. I knew she needed to cry without me giving false promises that everything was okay. None of this was okay.

I’d cried when I’d written that song. I’d broken down in the recording booth when I’d sung the chorus for the first time. I only just realized as I watched her body shake with sobs that I’d been an idiot for not telling her how I’d felt. But maybe...just maybe she could finally hear me through my songs.

By the time that track ended, I was in tears too. I wiped my cheeks with the back of my hand, sniffling as I tried to compose myself. I sat back on the couch again, my head leant back. I shut my eyes and listened to the next song, one a little more uptempo. I tapped my fingertips on the cushion at my sides, humming softly. This song was about happy memories, when we’d laid on the beach or beside my pool last summer. When we’d been so in love and hadn’t a care in the world. Before all the fighting and jealousy and…

I almost didn’t feel it at first, her hand brushing mine. It was such a light touch, I thought perhaps I was imagining it, lost in the song. But my eyelids fluttered open when I felt it again. I stared at my right hand on the cushion, her slim fingers over mine. She used to like to do that, when we’d be sat together watching a movie, or lying in bed reading. She’d trace my hand and knuckles with her fingertips, her delicate hand dancing over mine before I’d smile and thread our fingers together. It was an unspoken gesture of affection we’d had. I missed it.

God, I missed her.

I raised my head to look at her. I half expected her to be looking at me too, but she was focused on our hands. Her expression wasn’t one I’d hoped either. She looked sad, her cheeks still tear-stained. I wanted to kiss them, make it all better.

I opened my mouth to say her name, but nothing came out. I cleared my throat and she looked at me. I turned my hand over then like I used to, wanting to thread our fingers together. But she pulled away, her jaw set.

“Why’d you do that?” I asked, my voice a deep rasp.

They were the first words either of us had spoken since the music started, and I instantly regretted it, knowing I’d meant to stay silent until the end. We were on track nine now, a couple more songs to go. I still wanted her to hear all of it. I wanted her to know I still felt the same, even though I wasn’t completely over the anger, over the heartbreak. But I’d spilled my guts out in my songs. I was shit at communication, I knew that. I hoped that she could understand it all in my music.

“I...I don’t know,” she whispered.

She crossed her legs then, sat in the corner of the couch. She reached behind her head and pulled at her bun, letting her hair fall freely down her shoulders. She seemed comfortable, at least less resistant than she had when I’d knocked on her door. I could tell she wanted to talk, but she kept her mouth shut because I’d told her she could. I also felt like she was really listening though. And that was really all I wanted.

“That was a really good song,” she surprised me after track ten. But she didn’t say anything more.

Clearing my throat again, I sucked in my lips when the final song started. If track seven had been the most personal, this was the companion to it. This was me giving my heart, me asking forgiveness and giving it back. This was me wanting another chance to prove how I felt about her. I’d known as I was writing and recording it that the possibility of that happening was slim to none. But I had to take a chance. I was tired of keeping it bottled up, being a stubborn prat because I’d wanted my way and had to be right. I was all kinds of wrong. I knew I wasn’t fully to blame for our break-up, but I was taking responsibility and owning up to my part in it. I hoped she could hear that in my voice.

By the time the song was over, my head was in my hands. I perched on the edge of the sofa shaking. I’d already listened to it a handful of times in the studio and in my car, but it hadn’t had the effect it had now, sat in her living room with her beside me. I was sobbing like a baby.

“Harry…” I heard her whisper.

When I lifted my head this time, she was right beside me, her face so close it startled me. Her hands were in her lap, and she wrung them like she was either nervous or was trying to keep herself from touching me.

“I’m so sorry,” I cried. “For everything.”

“I know,” she nodded. “I heard.”

“Will you forgive me?” I asked, turning to face her. I wanted to lift my hand to touch her face but thought better of it. Instead, I hesitantly reached for her hand. I was pleasantly surprised when she let me take it.

“Only if you forgive me, too,” she said.

I let out a deep breath and leant forward. I wanted to kiss her but wasn’t sure if she was ready yet. Lifting my hand this time, I grazed her cheek and wiped a tear away with my thumb.

“I still love you,” I admitted. “I never stopped. I’m just so sorry I waited this long.”

She bit her perfect bottom lip, her big eyes blinking fast.

“I thought I was over you,” she said. “I thought you were over me.”

“Guess we were both wrong.”

She leant into me then, and I took it as my cue. I took her into my arms and kissed her, like I’d wanted to kiss her for months. She felt so good against me, and I quickly found myself shedding more tears.

“We still have a lot to talk about,” she whispered when I released her lips.

“I know,” I agreed. “I promise I’m not walking out this time.”

“Good,” she nodded before kissing me again.

We ended up listening to the album again together while we prepared and ate dinner. There were more tears, but also lots of conversation. We had a long way to go, but I was hopeful.

Something had made me drive down her street. I guess it was me.

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MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK

[levi501ackerman]

Object of Affection | Levi x Reader Fluff

masterlist

Summary: Some may think Levi is whipped or your servant. But acts of service is how Levi shows his love

Word Count: 1.9k

Megans's Note: song correlated: Ridin' by ASAP Rocky ft. Lana Del Rey. btw whenever I say song correlated I dont mean it with the intention to offer to listen to it while reading. It was just the song that inspired the idea or that was on loop while writing. posted: 4/18/24. I'm really glad AOT has sparked me to write again. I need more practice lol. Enjoy.

Eren, Jean, and Armin were the first of your friends to be sitting at breakfast in the dining hall. Sasha was in one of the lines to get food. It was a sunny day and a few ODM drills were available for whoever wanted the practice. Some other classes were going on as well. It was a general casual day for the scouts. For some scout units, there was food preparation for future expeditions, but for you and your friends, you did not have much on the agenda. 

“I think I’m going to do some drills today,” Eren said. “Are you going to join us?” He asked Armin who usually went to Erwin’s office.

“Yeah, I can. I finished the little project with Commander Erwin.” He said then took a bite of his bread. Sasha hurried to the table to sit down. Her plate had a bigger portion than everyone else at the table. “It is a nice day outside too.”

More people started entering the dining area. The morning crowd of scouts was starting to pick up. Jean noticed you and Levi walked through the door.

“Y/N’s coming. Maybe she’ll practice with us,” Jean said. The table noticed Levi say something to you and then you smiled and started going towards them. 

“I don’t know she’s been spending a lot of time with Hange and Moblit doing research and testing theories,” Eren said. 

“Morning guys!” Sasha brightly greeted the table. The line for breakfast was moving a little slower with the incoming scouts. Everyone acknowledged Sasha.

“Sasha, are you going to do drills today? We’re all going to.” Armin asked invitingly. 

“Yeah, and I think Y/N was thinking about it too,” Sasha said. You approached the table and smiled at your friends. 

“Are you not going to eat?” Jean asked.

“Levi’s getting my food.” You said. They look over to see Levi's arms crossed standing in line with the scouts. 

“Why don’t you get your food yourself?” Eren asked

“Levi knows I don’t like standing in lines so he just said he’ll start getting my food.” You said. Jean and Eren laughed. 

“Wow if only I could have the captain serve me food.” Jean joked and you rolled your eyes with a smile on your face.

“He’s not serving me, he just knows I don’t like standing in lines so he offered to get my food from now on.”

“What if he gets you the wrong food?” Eren asked.

“Well Levi knows what I like,” you said. 

“We’re going to do drills today, you should come,” Armin said. Most of your free time has been spent with Hange and Moblit. You looked up to Hange and she liked you. You enjoyed working with her and in general learning more about the titans. 

“Yeah, I’ll come.” You said and your friends were elated you were joining them. “Ugh wait! I forgot my belt and some straps in my room.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s such a nice day out for drills too. Hopefully, it won’t get hotter.”

A few minutes later, Levi put a plate of breakfast in front of you. He softly smiled.

“Do you want water or tea?” Levi asked.

“Water please.” You said and then he walked away. 

“Yeah sounds like a server to me,” Jean said.

“Stop it, Jean. He’s not serving me. When you get a girlfriend you’ll understand that you’ll want to help her and make her feel like she doesn’t need to worry about anything.” You said back.

“I feel sorry for whoever decides to date you, Jean,” Sasha said with a full mouth and you both giggled.

“Whatever I am a catch,” Jean said. Levi came back with water for you and some tea for himself. 

“I have a meeting I’m going to go to now,” Levi said to you. The table greeted Captain Levi and he acknowledged them normally. 

“I’m going to do drills today with my friends.” You said to him. 

“Nice weather for that today.”

“Yeah, but, I left my belt in my room—”

“I can go get it.” Levi offered.

“Thank you that would be really helpful.” You said and he left for his meeting. 

“Y/N’s has him whipped,” Jean said. 

Truly you did. Levi wanted to help you in any way he could. On the last expedition, he made sure you had your own food to take of yourself. Levi always triple-checked that your gear was in top shape. If you mentioned something was sore, he would offer his best to massage you. If you mentioned anything that inconvenienced you he would do his best to find a way to fix it for you. You once mentioned that the drawer to your nightstand kept getting stuck halfway when pulling it out and you would have to tug hard to get it to keep pulling out. Later that day he took apart your nightstand to fix the sliding drawer. All of a sudden it was working and you didn’t think about it anymore. You didn’t even know Levi fixed it until a week later. 

Once, when you and Levi passed by a stationary shop, you mentioned how you have been journaling since you were young. You had eight journals and mentioned a slight fear that they would end up getting damaged or burned in a fire. You treasured your journals that were filled with your memories. He later got you a small perfect-sized fire box that you could keep your journals safe in. 

You and Sasha met up with Mikasa and decided to be grouped for the drills. It was getting a little warmer than expected. But there was still a slight breeze. You three started stretching and getting your gear together. Then you noticed Levi walking up to you with the belt and straps you needed. 

“I got the belt you needed,” Levi said and your heart fluttered. It was so sweet how helpful he’s always been. 

“Thank you,” You said. 

“You look really pretty,” He said and you blushed a little.

“I’m about to get really sweaty.” You laughed.

“It’s starting to get hotter.” He said squinting and looking up at the sky. “Show the dummy titans no mercy.” He said and you smiled while watching him walk off. 

“You two are so freaking cute!” Sasha said making you blush more. “I’m so excited for when I get a boyfriend and we can go on double dates!” That did excite you and you smiled.

“I can’t wait to meet the guy who deserves you.” You said while putting on your belt and straps. “A guy that’s sweet.”

“I think you need someone who loves meat just as much as you do,” Mikasa said. “Or someone who can cook—” Sasha squealed.

“Oh my god that would be perfect!” 

“That would be the perfect guy for you,” you said.

“You guys want to compete for the most kills?” Jean called out in the distance. Connie was now with him, Eren, and Armin. 

“Mikasa is going to win! Back out now while you can!” You yelled back. The drills began. “Mikasa you should give him a head start!” You said and Sasha laughed. Though it was spring and getting greener outside the temperature got hot while everyone was doing drills. It was an unexpected rise. You pulled at your shirt trying to get ventilation whenever you had the time to do so. The heat made everyone work harder because flying in the air gave everyone a slight breeze. After the drills, everyone was sweating. It was a good workout but people were getting tired quicker because of the heat. When walking back to your stuff Sasha was giving Jean crap about Mikasa beating him. It wasn’t a surprise but the competition did make Jean work harder. Jean was a great scout and even gave you some helpful pointers with the ODM gear. Out of everyone doing the drills, he got the second-highest kill count right behind Mikasa. As you approached your stuff you noticed three water bottles that were perspiring because of the heat. 

“Is this not where we put our stuff?” Sasha asked. But then she saw her bag and Mikasa saw her stuff. 

“Whose water bottles are these?” Mikasa asked. You noticed the drenched little note under the water bottle closest to your stuff. The note read: I noticed you guys didn’t have water. Stay hydrated. 

“They’re from Levi. He got us water because he saw we didn’t have any.” You said and Sasha started chugging hers.

“That’s considerate of him,” Mikasa said and the three of you started chugging the cold water. 

“Thanks, Levi it hit the spot!” Sasha said and crinkled her empty bottle. 

“I need to change, I’m so sweaty and probably smell bad.” You said. Many scouts who did drills all had the same idea to take cold rinse-off showers. No one was expecting a spike in the temperature. When you got back to your room with Sasha. You noticed another water bottle and a note near your bed. It was from Levi again. Come to my office for dinner. You smiled and told Sasha. Your heart fluttered because he was so sweet and no one else saw this side of him. He used to be so shy in front of you and you used to think he didn’t like you. Levi would be his normal self to everyone but then he would be quiet in front of you. It made you feel insecure until Hange exposed Levi. She and Moblit told you that Levi talked a lot about you and wanted to get to know you. Hange may have been the one to tell you that Levi thought you were pretty. Which gave you the confidence to approach him.

In the evening you went to Levi’s room, and you were ready for some alone time. When you knocked on the door, Levi opened it pretty quickly. He shut the door behind you and embraced you in a big hug. He smelled nice and then you noticed the smell of his office. 

“Sit down I made us some soup.” He said. “I saw they had that bean mixture you don’t like for dinner.” Your heart fluttered and the soup smelled good. The smell made you hungrier than you were before. “I got some bread and mashed potatoes though to fill you up more. You need the energy from being outside most of the day.” He said.

“Thank you, Levi,” You said grateful for how thoughtful he is. It was so nice how much he tried to help you or thought of ways to make your life easier. 

“Anything for you, Y/N,” He said and you two began eating. The soup was satisfying and Levi getting bread for it was a good idea. Honestly, Levi did a lot for you because he cared for you so much. He had little to no dating experience before you and he did not want to do anything to make you feel like he didn’t respect you. Levi has always been considerate of you since you started getting close and dating. He would listen you to and remember little things about you. You felt cared for and though you and Levi haven’t told one another that you loved each other. You already knew.

masterlist

[wonwoonlight]

shiny star | lee seokmin

➝ Seokmin x Reader

➝ shiny star!au // university!au // non idol!au // strangers to lovers // fluff // slice of life

➝ word count: 5.3k~

➝ warning: curses, food.

➝ inspired by: Shiny Star (2020) - KyoungSeo

➝ shiny star playlist

➝ Shiny Star masterlist (can be read as standalone)

Seungcheol // Jeonghan // Joshua // Junhui // Soonyoung // Wonwoo // Jihoon // Seokmin // Mingyu // Minghao // Seungkwan // Hansol // Chan

A/N: in an ideal world, this would drop on 18 February 2022 00:00 KST and be proofread. alas, this world is nothing but ideal. happy late birthday seokmin, it's been long since i write anything so i hope this is... okay. enjoy.

A/N 2: shoutout to @twogyuu and @lily-blue who share the same birthday as our precious boys <3

널 좋아하는 내 마음이 표현이 안 돼 the way I like you can't be expressed 꿈이 아니면 ��겠어 자꾸 웃음 나와 I hope this isn't a dream, I keep on laughing

[✾✾✾]

Seokmin has never liked people whispering.

It makes him feel like he’s out of loop and sometimes it feels like they’re whispering about him. He doesn’t like it even more when he catches people whispering with each other without trying to be subtle; why bother whispering then? Might as well just talk loudly if they’re going to make someone uncomfortable one way or another. Why make them anxious for no reason?

That said, he’s very annoyed right now because the group on the table next to him is clearly snickering to each other about someone in his class, whispering to themselves (even though he can still hear parts of their conversations that he doesn’t want to be a part of) as they not so subtly point at someone in front of the class.

Seokmin truly wishes whoever they’re pointing at, this person doesn’t notice because at least they’re not facing each other.

…always by herself. Tsk. She probably thinks she’s above everyone.

True. Just because she’s top of the class and everything. No wonder she doesn’t have friends.

Have you ever seen her talk to anyone in class?

No. I;m pretty sure she–

And he puts on his earphones and drowns their voices, turning up the song so he wouldn’t have to listen to whatever bullshit they’re spewing anymore. It works, but his eyes travel to the girl sitting by herself on the second row up in front; her body slumped forward as she leaned on her arms.

Cruel how one can stay silent and people would still make shit up somehow.

[✾✾✾]

The next time Seokmin comes to class, his eyes find the same girl on the same seat, this time with earphones on and hand busy scribbling something on her notebook. 

He also notices the same girls seating a few rows behind, whispering and pointing like no one else can see what they’re doing. It irks him, but he’s never been one to confront people and act heroic; so he does what he can in his own way, makes his way next to the girl and sits on the empty seat right next to hers.

The whispering seems to stop, if only for a few seconds. And when the faint hushes continue, he assumes it’s for a different reason.

“Is it… okay to sit here?” He asks, albeit a little late.

You look so startled, as if not expecting anyone to be addressing you–let alone sit on the empty seat next to you when there are obviously lots of empty ones on the back.

“Umm… Yeah, sure.”

He beams even though you seem like you’re still not sure how to interact with him.

“I’m Seokmin, by the way. It’s too noisy in the back nowadays, figured I should try sitting in front.”

This seems to satisfy you, as you nod and offer him your name, and Seokmin pats himself in the back when you take out your earphones and put them back in their case. This means you’re not against him being there, right?

The awkwardness that follows is a little hard to swallow, but he forces another question after a painful three seconds for the both of you.

“You always sit in front, don’t you?”

You shrug then repeat what he exactly just said a while ago. “It has always been noisy in the back for me.”

And the conversation stops again.

You don’t look like you don’t want to talk to him though, just very unsure about what to say and Seokmin will take that as a win. Thankfully, Professor Kim comes in just in time and starts the class almost immediately after. It’s a hit or miss when it comes to his class, and sometimes it’s such a big miss that Seokmin regrets taking History of English Literature as an elective, cursing Wonwoo for saying this course was easy and he didn’t have to do much.

The thing about Professor Kim is that he speaks quite fast and his power point sucks. He explains well, but sometimes Seokmin struggles following his pace that he’d miss words in his notes. He sighs as this happens yet again, then his gaze ends up on your notes and he must’ve gasped audibly because you turn to give him a questioning look.

“Your notes are… very nice.” is the only thing he dumbly manages to say.

“Thank you…?” You blink in confusion then, without meaning to, turn to look at his notes. You hold back a wince at how messy it is, though you appreciate the fact that he’s trying and he’s here to actually learn something. “Do you… need help?”

With the way he looks at you, you might as well be offering the world to him. Damn, you’ve never seen someone who looks so much like a harmless puppy.

“You’d do that?”

You shrug, telling him you don’t mind. You’ve always liked helping people study, but no one except for Jennie and Jimin ever asked for your help. Even those two hesitated at first and only gathered enough courage to ask you after you got close. 

“Can we talk after class?” 

“Sure.”

And that’s how you end up here one hour later, still in the classroom even though everyone else has left. Seokmin, as it turns out, is not very good when it comes to speed writing. You went through his notes for a bit after class ended, and you pressed your lips together to hold back whatever you wanted to say because you don’t know this guy enough to see if he’d get offended.

Well, whatever. You were the one who offered to help, anyway, and he does look very harmless of a person.

“How do you want me to help?”

“Mmh…” Now that you put it that way, what was he expecting of you? “I either miss his explanation or miss writing things down because he speaks quite fast. So it’s always one or the other and I always end up borrowing someone’s note or asking a friend to explain it again after class.”

You seem to consider this for a bit, lips pursing in thought as you focus on his notes and Seokmin takes that time to finally, finally look at you. How has he never noticed you before? You’re not the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life, but you’re definitely attractive and you’re most definitely his style.

You have a lot of piercings on your left ear, he notices (because your right one is covered by your hair), and when his eyes wander to your lips, he realizes that they are on the smaller side and it’s then that he snaps out of his gaze because your lips are moving and he barely registers whatever’s coming out of them.

“–tomorrow?”

“Sorry?” He smiles sheepishly. God, you’re so going to think this is why he’s bad at taking notes, that he’s bad at concentrating and you’re going to regret offering him help.

Unexpectedly, you let out a huff of amusement before repeating your words, not a speck of annoyance in your eyes.

“I said I already have plans today so I’m not sure I can help you as much as I’d like to. Would it be okay if we see each other tomorrow?”

The ‘yes!’ that comes out of his mouth is way too fast that he’s almost embarrassed, but seeing the way your face scrunches up in amusement is worth it and he quickly asks for your number so he can text you tomorrow. He feels like a high school boy all of sudden, heart giddy as he patiently waits for you to punch in your number into his phone.

Seokmin bites back a smile as he looks at your contact even minutes after you left the room, saying goodbye with the prettiest smile and a small wave.

[✾✾✾]

“I want to try this katsu place.” Jimin announces his presence before he plops down on the empty seat in front of you, though neither you or Jennie look up from your phones. “And because you brats don’t have manners, you two are coming with me. No choice whatsoever.”

Jennie groans, but still asks when and where, finally putting her phone down to give him the time of her day. You listen to the conversation, not really in the mood to join in their usual banter because you honestly just want to take a nap but you already bailed on them three times this month so you have to be here now.

You value your life more than that. You’re not risking Jennie and Jimin taking your life with their bare hands if you miss another hang out.

“Somewhere in Yeonnam. And I want to try immediately. So, lunch tomorrow.”

“Can’t.” You sigh, then glare at Jimin when he dramatically whispers that you finally put down your phone. “Promised someone I’d help them with this subject.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. This guy from my History of Literature class.” You pause. “But you guys can go ahead and try the katsu place without me if you want.” When you look up to meet their stares, you wince and sit straight on your seat. “...or not. Reschedule or we can have late lunch? I should be finished at 2 ish.”

“Late lunch it is.” Jimin grins, clapping his hands together in satisfaction. “And I’m picking you up. I’m not letting you bail last minute for whatever reason.” 

[✾✾✾]

“Do you want me to be completely honest?” You end up going straight to it. Seokmin looks soft-hearted, and you mean it in the best way possible, but for someone as curt as you are, it’s not always easy to thread around someone like him. You don’t want to offend him by accident, but you don’t know him enough so you suppose you don’t really have any choice but to go straight to the point and see from there.

“...sure.”

“I think it’s less about you not paying attention, but more about you not used to writing… umm… summarized notes?”

Seokmin tilts his head, and the way his eyes are trying to find answers in yours almost make you blush, so you clear your throat and pretend to point at something on his notes.

“You don’t need to write down every single word he’s saying. Just the keywords.” You start off, making sure he’s listening. And once you’re sure he’s grasped what you say next about taking notes, you continue to go through the subject and parts that he still doesn’t quite understand.

It goes on like that for about 40 minutes, which is already more than you expected it to be. You thought Seokmin would be the type that would take breaks every fifteen minutes, even for a bit, but he’s been so focused on studying that you actually feel a little touched that he’s taking this seriously.

You have always had a soft spot for people who work hard, and even though you don’t know which major Seokmin is actually taking, you know this course is just something he takes for the credits. Perhaps he thought it’d be easy? That’s the general impression people have when it comes to literature. 

Whatever it is, you appreciate him working hard right now.

You jump when your phone buzzes with notifications, and when you look at it, it’s the group chat blowing up yet again.

[13:36] Kim Jennie: we’re meeting at 3 right???

[13:36] Kim Jennie: am like 30 mins away from yeonnam so i’ll head out at 2 30

[13:43] Jiminnie: ok ok

[13:44] Jiminnie: where u at @yn

[13:44] Jiminnie: yn

[13:44] Jiminnie: yn

[13:44] Jiminnie: yn

[13:44] Jiminnie: yn

[13:44] Jiminnie: ynnnnnn 

[13:44] Jiminnie: yn answer me😡😡😡 

[13:45] STOP wtf

[13:45] Jiminnie: YN😡😡

[13:46] Jiminnie: oh youre here

[13:46] Kim Jennie: yes jimin wtf?? I’m muting you guys

[13:46] Jiminnie: not my fault she’s not answering???

[13:47] Have you considered that some of us have something to do????

[13:47] I told you I’m tutoring this guy from my class

[13:47] And I’m in the Central Building, you’re really picking me up?

[13:50] Jiminnie: yes 🥰

[13:50] Jiminnie: brought my car with me today

[13:50] Hooo nice. Then please get me some boba while you’re at it <3 Thank you, mwah 

[13:51] Yeonnam is only like 10 minutes away by car tho right?? 

[13:51] I’ll wrap up my tutoring session at 4.30 then

You look up when you hear Seokmin groan from your side, cracks his neck then straightens his back.

“Let’s take a ten minute break?” You offer, and his appreciative groan makes you chuckle that he scrunches his nose in embarrassment. You look through your bag to see if you have some snack, and when you find a chocolate bar you tap his shoulder and offer it to him.

“You sure?” He asks like you’re giving him some kinda expensive gift.

“You deserve it.” You shrug. “I’ve never seen someone so focused on this subject.”

“That’s a compliment… right?”

“Definitely.” The grin you send his way is enough to make him grin too, and Seokmin thanks you once again before taking the chocolate and immediately breaking it into two. “Oh, thank you.”

He looks at you weirdly, though the smile doesn’t fall from his face. “This is literally your chocolate, why are you thanking me?”

“I gave it to you though. So it’s yours.”

“Yeah, but it’s still originally yours?”

“Do you want the chocolate or not?”

“Right. Sorry.” He pretends to sulk, but the smile in his face betrays the whole act and you end up laughing with Seokmin before your phone buzzes again, making you jump once again. Seriously, you never get used to the sound of electronic devices vibrating against any surface.

Your phone lights up, Jimin’s message on top of your screen.

[13:55] Jiminnie: you’re lucky i love you

Next to you, Seokmin tenses. Why, he’s not sure.

“Boyfriend?” He says before he knows it, and when you look at him in surprise, he clears his throat and gives you a hesitant smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to look. I thought it was my phone vibrating and I accidentally looked at your text.”

“It’s fine.” You shrug, understanding that it could happen. “And no, he’s not my boyfriend.”

And you leave it at that, not giving him any explanation because, frankly, you don’t owe him any. You don’t seem to notice Seokmin’s curious and lingering gaze though, and you start another topic as you ask about his major instead.

You end up talking for more than ten minutes, because conversation falls easily with Seokmin. You’ve always liked making new friends and talking to people despite your way of talking, but approaching someone and talking to them first is a personal fear of yours that you don’t think you’d get over anytime soon.

That said, Seokmin seems like a very sweet person and talking to him proves that your assumption has been right. He’s not overly chatty, but you can tell he’s passionate about certain topics and he’s very attentive to what you’re saying even though you’re just talking about some random episode you remember happening in retrospect to something he said.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone as sincere as he is.

[14:32] Jiminnie: you finished? Am gonna arrive in front of the central building in 5 mins

“Oh.” You blink at his text. Huh. It’s already half past two? Didn’t you just take a ten minute break right before two?

Seokmin looks at you in worry, and when he asks if something’s wrong, you give him a small smile and lock your phone again. “Sorry, I promised to have lunch with my friends at 3 and I need to leave in a bit.”

Friends, huh? He wonders if you’re just saying it. But he can’t deny the bitter feeling on the tip of his tongue as he remembers ‘Jiminnie’ once again and the text he saw. But, then again, doesn’t it make sense that someone as attractive as you to have a boyfriend already? Or someone who’s close to being one?

His mind suddenly takes him to the girls snickering about you; the absolute bullshit of assumptions they’ve been spewing about you. They don’t know how fun you actually are, and even though you can be blunt with your words, even from the short time he’s spent with you, he can tell that you’re very considerate. You seem to know when to stop yourself before saying anything too blunt.

“Seokmin? Are you not going to tidy up?” You ask when you realize he’s been zoning off, your fingers hovering over your phone screen.

“Huh. Right.” He wonders if he should just leave or study a little more, not that he wants to at this point. Maybe he can text Seungkwan and the others to see if they’re still in uni. “Where are you having lunch?”

“Oh! My friend wants to try this katsu place in Yeonnam so we’re going there.” You pause and wonder if Jennie and Jimin would mind you inviting him to your lunch date. Seokmin seems nice enough, though you’re not sure just yet if he’ll mix well with your little circle. Hmmm, maybe next time. “You going somewhere?”

Seokmin shrugs. “Not sure yet. I’ll try texting my friends to see if they’re still around, I don’t really feel like going home just yet.”

Should you just invite him?

“Do you w–”

“Heyyy!” A familiar place echoes through the classroom, Jimin’s happy grin peeking from the door. When he realizes you’re not by yourself, he blinks and stands straight before making his way to your table and places the boba you asked for then greets Seokmin with a friendly smile. “Oh. Hi! Sorry, I thought you’re by yourself.”

You look at the drink with twinkles in your eyes, and hug him a little from the side as a thank you.

“I’m Jimin, by the way.” He kindly offers his hand with a smile, and Seokmin returns the gesture as he introduces himself. He takes the guy in and wonders if this is the kind of guy you’re into, or if he really is just a friend. He knows he shouldn’t assume, but, then again, he always tends to do that when he’s interested in someone. Everyone feels like a competition.

Wait.

Is he interested in you?

“Oh! You’re friends with Hansol, aren’t you?” The older guy exclaims once he realizes why Seokmin looks familiar. “I think I’ve seen you around with him before.”

“Oh, yeah, I am. How do you know Hansol?” He really doesn’t feel like talking to Jimin at this point, but he doesn’t want to be rude and it’s not like he’s done anything to piss him off. He seems nice, if anything. Seriously, he needs to get his mind together. 

“A friend of a friend. I need to hang out with him one of these days.” He trails off on his own, when he notices you finish organizing your stuff, he asks if you’re ready to go. “It’s nice meeting you, Seokmin! I’ll see you around.”

He returns the sentiments, giving him a forced smile that’s hopefully not too strained. His smile softens when he sees you though, and you shyly wave at him, whispering a ‘I’ll see you in class’ before you leave with Jimin.

Damn, he’s already in deeper than he thought he was.

[✾✾✾]

It becomes a routine for you to meet and just hang out with each other after Professor Kim’s class. The first few meetings, you mostly studied and would talk from time to time during breaks. But at some point, you end up just talking with so little studying on the side.

Seokmin seems to be better at taking notes nowadays, and the fact that you’re helping him probably contributes a lot to him understanding better too. Objectively speaking, your notes are really easy to understand and you’ve kindly offered him to study together if he's up for it.

Why wouldn't he be?

"I don't think I can study today," you say as soon as you sit next to him in class. That's become a routine too, one that, thankfully, has made the whispering die down even though it still happens from time to time.

“It’s fine,” he reassures you, something inside him flips at the fact that you feel the need to apologize even though it’s not like you’ve both promised to meet each other every week. It’s been… what, almost two months? Wow, has he really been constantly hanging out with you for two months straight? “Going somewhere?”

“Yeah. Jimin wanna go somewhere and he decides that I’m going with him.” You scrunch your nose in mock annoyance. 

After two months of hanging out with you and Jimin popping in out of nowhere from time to time, Seokmin realizes that he really is nothing but a friend. You’d sometimes complain about his tendency to drag you and your other friend (whose name you’ve yet mentioned) without really giving you any choice to refuse. Though, most of the time, you do end up having fun so it’s just a reflex for you at this point to complain just for the sake of it.

Judging from the way you talk about him and the few times he’s seen you with the older guy, Seokmin has had his own share of close girl friends to know that you really do consider Jimin as a friend and nothing more.

“Did he at least tell you this time where you’re going?” He grins.

“Nope. This is the only thing he said.” You say as you show him your phone, a pout in your face.

[09:07] Jiminnie: lunch today.

[09:07] Jiminnie: i know none of u r busy, so.

[09:08] Jiminnie: will see u guys in the usual place at 2 &lt;3

Seokmin laughs at that, then shows you a meme Hansol sent to the group chat some time ago that reminds him exactly of the situation you’re in. After talking so much with Seokmin, you’ve realized that you share almost not one single interest with him. Your preferences in movies, music, or TV shows are all different, but you’ve found out that your humor code when it comes to memes are exactly the same that you’ve also started sending each other memes on Instagram.

The texting has become a routine too for you two. And while he doesn’t really see you a lot around campus because your faculty’s building is on the opposite side of the campus with his, he’d see you from time to time in the campus’ park, making your way somewhere.

If he’s to be completely honest, he’s been trying to find a good time to ask you out on a date. Yes, you’ve spent a lot of time together, just the two of you, but it has never felt like a date because it’s become a routine and Seokmin wants something special. 

Do you feel the same though?

What if you don’t? Will this scare you off?

No, you’re not that kind of person, he believes. If you’re not into him, you’d probably politely reject him and go on as usual. He doesn’t think you’re the type to ghost a friend just because of something like this.

The thought eases him a bit, but it still scares him a little. Perhaps he should start thinking about where to invite you first before asking you to go on a date.

“Something on your mind?” You offer him a comforting smile, one that makes his heart melt every single time.

He shakes his head though, telling you it’s nothing.

“Okay. Just know I’ll listen if you need someone, okay?”

His chest warms at your words, and a full smile blooms on his face as he nods and thanks you, his gaze piercing into yours.

“I’ll keep it in mind. But it’s really nothing, don’t worry.”

You hope Seokmin doesn’t notice the way your cheeks heat up at the way he’s looking at you. 

[✾✾✾]

“You’ve been hanging out with Seokmin a lot, haven’t you?” Jimin starts the moment all of your food are served in front of you, the waiter leaving your table barely a second ago.

“I told you I’ve been helping him study.” You try to play it cool, shrugging with nonchalance. Anyone else would believe your act, really, but these two know you too well to be fooled by your faux indifference.

Jimin narrows his eyes at you, but before he can say anything, Jennie cuts him off saying, “I think he’s friends with my cousin. A pretty close one, at that.”

“Oh? Is he cool? He seems nice the few times I’ve met him. A little too nice, to be honest, but he does seem the type.”

“I… don’t talk to my cousin enough to know.” She smiles sheepishly.

“Why did you even bring it up then…”

“Well, my cousin doesn’t really make friends because he’s quiet. And he’s pretty… uh, choosy when it comes to people he associates himself with, so I think it means something that they’re close.”

“Can we move on to the next topic?” You urge with an innocent smile. You don’t even know what you feel for him, really, but you know for sure you like hanging out with the guy and you’re more conscious of yourself when it comes to him. A part of you wants to keep on talking to him, and sometimes you find yourself wondering how would it feel like to just… go around campus with him by yourself. It’s such a small thing to wonder about, but even that itself is enough to make you bite back a smile.

“No. Not until you–”

“Jen?” A deep voice calls for her, and you’re about to thank whoever’s listening up there for the interruption only to freeze when you look up, because Seokmin is there, together with… whoever these people are.

“Oh, Wonwoo, hi.” She waves and greets everyone in his party, apparently familiar with all of them. You share a smile with Seokmin, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jimin. He grins to himself before standing up to greet a familiar face behind Wonwoo.

“Hansol, man! Been a long time.” He meets him in a half hug, nodding at Seokmin before turning to Wonwoo. “Hi! I’m Jimin. You’re Jennie’s cousin? Why don’t you join all of us here?”

Wonwoo looks at his friends, but none of them says anything so he shrugs and says ‘sure’. Asking the waiter to put the tables together, Wonwoo and Hansol go to order while Seokmin is left with Seungkwan at the table.

Naturally, Seokmin sits next to you and Seungkwan on his other side. Seungkwan introduces himself, and Jennie takes the role to introduce you and Jimin before the younger guy launches into different topics to find mutual grounds.

“Didn’t think I’d see you here.” Seokmin says lowly, his voice only for you to hear.

“I know right,” you murmur back, somewhat shy to be talking to him in front of your and his friends. You’re not embarrassed of him by any means, but there’s just something so embarrassing about being perceived together with him when you know Jimin already has ideas on his mind.

The feeling is pleasant, but you can’t help but turn bashful.

Your eyes meet Jimin’s, and when he raises an eyebrow just to mess with you, you glare at him in hope he’ll shut his mouth.

“So, Seokmin,” he starts, blatantly ignoring your pleading eyes. “You’ve been hanging out with our Y/N here a lot, yeah?”

“She’s been helping me study Professor Kim’s class. She’s really great at teaching, really.” He shrugs, unsure how else to address his current… situation with you. What was he supposed to say, anyway? That he’s currently looking into the right time and place to ask you on a date?

“She is, she is.” Jimin nods in agreement, chewing on his fries. “I think she mentioned his class wasn’t pleasant though. Something about people being nosy. Is it true?”

“Jimin.” You frown at him, not expecting him to take that route. You knew it still bothers him, but you thought he has let it go once you said you now have Seokmin with you in class. He’s always been protective when it comes to you and Jennie, and you had let it slip some time ago that you considered dropping Professor Kim’s classes because some people just wouldn’t shut their mouth while you’re just there to study.

“What? I just want to know if it’s true.”

Seokmin looks at the two of you, something in him breaks a little at the fact that, apparently, you know that there are people whispering about you.

“I’m…” He considers pretending not to know, but he doesn’t think that’d help and decides being honest would be best. “Yeah, I think so. That’s why I started sitting in front, actually.”

This is the first time you’re hearing this also, and the way you snap your neck to face him would be funny if not for the current topic and the atmosphere at hand.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It gets really annoying even for me.” He shrugs like it’s nothing. Because it’s really not. Sometimes he wishes he has it in him to talk to those girls and tell them to shut up, that they don’t have the rights to talk shit about people, that they’re being a nuisance and they should stop.

But he doesn’t. And he feels like a coward at times for being so soft-hearted.

Jimin hums and drops the topic though, seemingly satisfied for whatever reason. The topic moves to another one, though you don’t really join in because you’re not in the mood after the talk earlier.

Is that why Seokmin sat next to you at first?

You bite your lip as you collect your thoughts together, and when Seokmin nudges you and asks if you’re okay, you try to reassure him that you’re fine and thank him for asking. It’s almost an hour later that you’re outside to get some air, everyone’s finished eating, but they decide they want to talk some more so you excuse yourself out for a bit.

You don’t need to look up to know it’s Seokmin who’s followed you out, and you smile at him when you meet his eyes.

“You’re really okay?” He asks once again just in case.

“Mmm… Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Is that… really why you sat next to me that day?”

Seokmin doesn’t like that he’s not sure how to decipher your feelings. Are you upset? Are you thankful? Are you indifferent?

“Yeah. I noticed some people whispering and it irked me.” He admits softly, his eyes moving away from yours. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell them to shut up and stood up for you instead.”

“What? No, Seokmin, I want to thank you for even doing what you did.” You reach for his hand despite the loud beating in your chest, cheeks heating up once again when you feel him squeezing your hand. “And for sticking around after that. I didn’t expect anyone to do anything, actually. So what you did is more than enough.”

He squeezes your hand once again, then remembers something that Jimin said a while ago.

“You considered dropping the class because of it?”

“Yeah… I was thinking about dropping it that day, actually. But you sat next to me and… yeah.” You scrunch your nose adorably, looking down at your hand wrapped against his.

His face breaks into a smile at your words, and his thumb caresses your skin before he decides to just go fuck it right there.

“You want to go on a date with me?”

[✾✾✾]

©wonwoonlight – all rights reserved.

permanent taglist: @kyeomjjigae @stantrash171819 @sebongmochi @luveveryonewoo @thinkinboutwonu @kpopjackie @ursweetener @lavenderautumnx @itsveronicaxxx @shuahoshiscoups @sunshinein17 @leechanniee @twogyuu @hoe4wonwoo @h3h3tm0n @noraehey @seokshook @rubyhoons @02psh @just-here-to-read-01 @listxn @janandbeyond @pearlygraysky @baekhyunstruly @svtreverie @coveyland @reallydgafaboutmyusername @sysymei @ovai @aikisbbq

[shotorozu]

see you again

(inspired by that one tiktok trend that’s based off see you again by tyler the creator and kali uchis)

note(s): it kinda makes more sense if you hear the audio itself, so do listen to the 10 minute loop i linked or else this ain’t making any sense. also yes this is a trend on tiktok 😭 at first it didn’t make sense to me (this is kinda out of nowhere and lowkey a weird concept now that im done writing it 💀) but it kinda does at the same time— so now im making a last minute post for mr. popularity 😁🤩

»»————-　♡　————-««

bakugou katsuki doesn’t understand tiktok trends.

ever since he saw some of the heinously unaware things being posted on the app, he vowed to stay clear from it unless if absolute necessary. (aka if bugged hard enough)

he used to watch reels from time to time (which was a big shocker to you) at least until you pointed out the similarity it had with tiktoks, and since then ditched the concept of watching short videos entirely.

it all seemed like a trick to him— a distraction. not only did he see some blissfully unaware people on that app, but it just felt like people had no concept of digital footprint. (it’d be infuriating if it wasn’t just so sad when he thought about it, actually.)

and— why should he participate in a video that could only get 10 views?

bakugou katsuki doesn’t understand tiktok trends. he might as well never touch the app within a thousand collumns in his appstore.

yet as you sit in front of him, showing him a tiktok trend with an expression that makes him sickly—

he kind of understands.

“y’know, ok ok ok ok is so you, bakugou.”

his face scrunches up when he moves closer to the screen, listening as the audio plays on while two characters representing each side are shown on the screen.

ok ok ok ok

la la la la—

“what the hell does that even mean??” he knows what it means. “how can you tell how a fucking person is an ok ok ok ok person??”

you shrug, “i just know. like… i don’t even have to explain why you’re tyler’s part.”

there’s a beat of silence.

“so what are you?” he questions, curious as to what you have to say. if you even have anything to say. he could tell that other people normally assign archetypes to you— if two repeating letters are archetypes…

damn. he thinks, feeling a sense of unknown sobriety. you got him bad if he can understand some sort of characterization assigned to this little segment of a song.

“la la la la, of course.” you decide, nodding. “well— i could also be ok ok ok ok— who said there couldn’t be two— well, i guess the song…”

you bite down on your lip in thought, and his line of sight immediately follows. “but i think i should be the la la la la to your ok ok ok ok, because—”

his first thought should’ve been what the fuck, that’s so stupid.

but the moment you start explaining, his eyes are locked onto you, catching every syllable and absorbing the obscurity that hangs off your definitions.

he leans forward, nods whenever you make a point. for something so nonsensical yet plain— you talk as if you talk to love, the same way you love to talk about your topics.

“and i rest my case.” he doesn’t realize you’ve reached the end of your spewl until you say it.

he doesn’t wait for you to finish unlike some others and plus. he doesn’t watch the clock or cut in�� he listens. and for once, he agrees to something nonsensical yet plain such as this—

well, actually— he let you convince him.

it all slams into him, “fitting.” he grumbles, turning his head away to clear his mind of the images of you talking, so full of life— with him both listening and agreeing at your side.

and that’s when he realized— you were going to be an unstoppable force in his life.

[snickerdoodlles]

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists? (Are you even capable of being embarrassed??)

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic? (ahahaha...)

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

🥰😘 ty friend!!

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

end of making assumptions ch1. I am absolutely still cackling about that.

😅 What's a story or scene you've created that you're a smidge embarrassed exists? (Are you even capable of being embarrassed??)

I am not! I'm trying to think of literally any of my WIPs that makes me bury my face in my hands but...nope. you'd think insatiable fic at least would inspire something, except I throw that WIP at literally anyone who even sneezes an interest in it. I still cackle in delight over a stable relationship fic. nothing can touch me 🤣

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

[insert pun about accidental pony play here]

but uhhh hmmmm. in terms of WIPs, bodyguard fic goes thru the most highs and lows. of posted fic... probably red line? tutoring date -> thug beat down -> kisses -> adrenaline crash -> clinging is a lot to pack into a few thousand words or however long that fic is

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

I don't! sometimes I'll put on sounds because I do like some white noise, but if I do music I'll get sucked into it >.< I've been listening to a lot of stray kids and ofc jeff satur lately while not writing tho

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic? (ahahaha...)

😂

I don't celebrate holidays myself. or like, I kinda do because family does and I get pulled into that whether I like it or not, but holidays in general aren't my thing. I love to incorporate them into stories because festivities can be perfect for giving characters different environments to act in and/or be really good to show the passage of time. sometimes some one-shots use holidays to build off canon in those ways and I like those, but I don't seek out holiday fic. and anything based on western chirstian holiday traditions for shows based in non-christian countries has to do the gymnastics to explain why the fuck that's happening or i mute.

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

hnfbfjdhfbfjdhf uhhh let's see, what to spoil...

was writing for youtuber!Vegas fic yesterday, which is going to get a running gag of fake sponsorship ads. mostly sponsored by a service that provides eternal reminders for all the embarrassing things you'd rather forget (use code WEHADANAGREEMENTMACAU to receive one poorly packaged younger brother FREE). Might give him one(1) legitimate sponsorship by Kinn's favorite lube company.

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

[cries in eternity] I'm getting there one small steppy at a time I swear I promise

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

if I still like it after I post! I go thru cycles of hating my posted fic but overall, I like what I have up more often than the days I don't. which is really good, because I'm my most frequent reader and!! gotta keep that bitch happy!!

and also, on a more serious note, my reaction to a story is the only thing I can control about it after I post. what gets attention vs what doesn't is impossible to control or guess and I just really, really hate when I feel discouraged because I didn't hit a certain number of comments or notes or whatever on a thing. any time after I post, I pretty much just spend the next several hours pretending I'm the only person with any opinion of value and taking screenshots of the bits I like. I try (and usually fail lol, but I try!!) not to read comments until after I've hyped myself on what I posted so that I'm just excited to gush about what I wrote instead of using any of people's lovely responses as a measuring stick. which isn't the best for helping me respond to anything in a timely fashion, but idk a better way to ensure I'm posting for me rip.

fic asks

[romanscool]

HIYAAAA it's Ocean 😽

First of all..... Happy holidays!!!!!🎄💫🩷

I know it's only November, but I'm really feeling the Christmas spirit

Anyways I came on to tumblr as I do once every 3 weeks and I saw you posted this ask game thingy so I'm about to bombard you with a bunch of these asks 😼

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

🏡What is your perfect writing envrionment?

💻What do you write your stories on? Laptop, phone, paper, etc.

🍎What's something you learned while researching for a fic?

Yuh

hi hi hi!!!

happy holidays to you too!! and to be honest, I have been really excited for the Christmas and new years' spirit this year too for some reason unknown,,, maybe it's cause im excited for January haha

im so glad for that!! thanks so much for this ask <33

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

I actually don't listen to music much while I write,, I'd much rather play a collection of F1 tiktok on loop haha - I have this weird thing where I need repetitive sounds to concentrate, something familiar that my brain doesn't need to focus on :') it's the neurodivergence in me I guess

i've had quite a long period of playing songs like 'We'll Never Have Sex' by Leith Ross, 'No One Noticed' by The Marias (or even 'White Ferrari' by Frank Ocean) on loop while writing the last couple chapters of wcmn,,, so if that helps, I like soft dull songs haha

✍ Do you have a beta reader?

I don't! sometimes I think that's unfortunate, considering English is very much not my first language, but I also quite like my weird syntaxes and made up words so,,, im happy about that :)

🏡What is your perfect writing envrionment?

definitely tucked deep in my bed with my cat sleeping on my shins (that little guy finds this weird weirdly comforting, though it's got to be a little awkward no?)! I'd much rather have background noise (like my repetitive tiktoks) than no noise, and sometimes find having someone -anyone- doing their thing next to me to be quite focusing. not even talking, just me writing and them doing whatever helps me concentrate for a reason I do not know haha

I've often found public transportation (like the bus or the tram) to be very inspiring too! though usually I only write my prompts/outlines/first drafts there because I tend to be easily distracted and write words and sentences that hold no meaning even to me

💻What do you write your stories on? Laptop, phone, paper, etc.

most of it all is written on my laptop (I like the little sounds of the keyboard) because I find that I write faster and more precisely on it. I sometimes write on my phone, especially if im on public transports, but my train of thought is quick to go everywhere and not make any sense,,,

🍎What's something you learned while researching for a fic?

so many things!!

I think the most 'impressing' is the whole learning dutch language, because I did initially start for wcmn and the dutch dialogue in it (though I've had to use some google translate also,,, sorry duolingo I guess)

a fun one is all the little baby/kid/teen maxiel stuff that I've also put in wcmn and it's little 'epilogue': all the little facts about Daniel being scared of the dark and max having his mum's dress from when he was born as a plushy is all canon!! I wish I could've added more of those in, but I tend to info dump a little too much, so I've decided to keep it to that ;') (for more info on this feel free to check the teen!maxiel tag though!!)

thank you so much for this ask ocean!! it's been lovely to answer all of those little emoji <3

hope you liked my answer, even if they're a little boring or over explained sometimes,,, I hope to hear from you again soon (even if its in three weeks time <3)

lots of love, roman

[lesbianatomy]

havent been on tumblr for a while but i have been rewatching yuri on ice recently (yes, its that time of the year) & ive been listening to stammi vicino almost non-stop (thank god spotify wrapped alr came out bcs im inclined to believe it wouldve been my top song for this year otherwise) so needless to say i have heard this exact song looped many times & tell me why i just realized that we hear two different versions of it in the anime !!!!!!

im sure many avid fans of the show have long known this already, which is truly embarrassing for myself, having grown up in a music school, but i digress. the first is the original stammi vicino, used in viktor's fs program (the one that yuri famously copies). the other is the duet version we hear during yuri and viktor's pair skate in the former's exhibition.

there are quite a lot of noticeable differences. firstly, the duet is cut in length; perhaps because they didnt require the full duration of the song for the part that it was included in or other reasons, but i think its notable to acknowledge the lyrics that were excluded:

With a sword I wish I could cut those throats singing about love I wish I could enclose in ice the hands that write those verses of burning passion

This story that has no meaning Will vanish tonight together with the stars If I could see you, eternity will be born from hope

this is taken straight from the yoi wiki page. essentially, in the original this can be interpreted as viktor mourning his loneliness and yearning for a great love. its highly sentimental but also bitter in a way, even. viktor's status as someone of incredible fame and talent has distanced him from life and love, which is ironic given that he is now skating to a love song. the music naturally reflects this: cmiiw but i think the ensemble fits the standard of an orchestra from the romantic period; you can tell from the dramatic use of percussion, wind instruments, and the grandiose crescendos and range of emotion in general. the way i see it, this very much encapsulates what viktor is actually skating about: it displays itself as a very bold declaration of love, in line with viktor's reputation as a legendary, almost mythic figure, but the reality is that no one is there to stay close to him. he is begging for a love that does not exist; an absence of it.

compared to the original, the duet is much more subdued, but no less sentimental. there is a sweeter, more assured quality to it that i feel is missing from the other version, which is clearly yuri's effect on viktor's life. i remember reading a fic recently about how the main instruments used in yuri on ice (the song) aka the piano and the violin actually represent yuri and viktor's respective roles in yuri's journey, though i believe they also took inspiration from someone else's idea. regardless, thank you to whoever it was that initially came up with that analysis!!!!! because of that i understand why the duet begins with piano instead of a wind instrument like in the original; another nod to yuri's presence. there's also a much clearer emphasis on the violin in the duet!

(also, idk about you but when i listen to the duet as it nears the end, even though they never show the full exhibition program, its so easy to imagine how they continue skating the rest of the routine. down to the ending pose & everything. just soooo visceral and excellent)

whew. long-winded rant about stammi vicino over. i love this song & i genuinely think that even if you have no interest in yoi you should still listen to the soundtrack (passacaille in barcelona & kamome are in my top 3). worth ittttt

[whatthequizquack]

Inspiration (klance soundcloud au) Ch. 3:

The Meeting

-In Keith's POV-

Waiting was difficult.

The whole process of going in public trying not to get recognized was difficult.

Hiding was difficult, especially since I had to wear a dumb wig on my head for some type of 'disguise'. What hairstyle even is this, a mullet? Hopefully no one will recognize me.

Wait.

I could just remove all the risks, and just walk out that exit door, and forget anything ever happened. This is crazy, what am I even doing? This is too spontaneous. I just need rest and I'll be right in the head. Why go through this, for a muse? What if I-

"Boarding time for Arizona, gate 11, Arizona, gate 11."

I guess there is no turning back now.

I gathered my things and headed to the gate. I wonder what he’ll be like. He sounds very smart, and I like his voice. It's that type of voice you could fall asleep to. So melodic. I wonder what he’ll be in person.

-----

I board the plane and immediately get settled. I watch the flight attendant go over emergency procedures, then put my headphones on. I open my phone to look at the album cover. You can kind of make out some facial features on the album, but barely. I wish I got a better look while on call. I put one of his songs on play and put an eyemask on, but I couldn't rest. My heart was beating out of my chest and I couldn't sit still. My leg was bouncing up and down out of nervousness and I got a tap on my shoulder from my seat neighbor, asking if I could stop. I then resorted to tugging and tying my hoodie strings to keep my heart from exploding out of my chest. This is all so stupid but I can’t keep my mind straight. What am I doing?

--------------- -Back to Garrison University-

"THIS IS A REPEAT AFTER ME SONG!"

"*sigh* This is a repeat after me song."

While Lance was cleaning the dorm, he came across his middle school songbook, and continued to torture Hunk with the childish songs.

"~THERE WAS A MOOSE~"

"... there was a moose."

"No, no, no, Hunk! You gotta sing it, like this! ~There was a moose~!"

"Fine. There was a moose~."

"That's more like it! ~HE LIKED TO DRINK A LOT OF JUICE~!"

"He liked to drink a lot of juice~"

"~THERE WAS. A. MOOSE!~"

"There was a moose~"

"~HE LIKED TO DRINK A LOT OF JUICE~!"

"~He liked to drink a lot of juice~"

All of a sudden, there was a knock on their door. Lance quickly straightened himself up and walked to the door.

When he opened the door, there stood Shay, with a shy look on her face.

"Hi, is Hunk here?"

Hunk's face brightened up as he headed towards the door.

"Yeah, he's right here!"

"Shay! What are you doing here?"

Lance just stood back, completely tuning out their voices and focusing on their faces. He wanted this type of relationship. One that isn't one-sided at all. Someone to fall completely head over heels for. Being bi was pretty difficult to confess, but everyone accepted him, so that's a positive. Lance just quietly shuffled over to his bed, plugged in his headphones, and listened to the song once again. He was analyzing the lyrics, and trying to find the meaning. Turning over a new leaf? In what way? How? He kept pondering on the meaning, until he just shut his eyes and let the song just loop over and over again. He was just about to drift into sleep when he felt a disturbance make a dip in his bed. He opened his eyes to Hunk just grinning like an idiot.

"What's up with you?" said Lance, honestly curious of his sudden hype.

Hunk was blushing at this point, and he started explaining. "So like Shay came over to ask for some recipes, since I brought a whole bunch, and after we talked, she kissed me! She kissed me, Lance! Shay is literally the best, and I can't believe that she likes me! It's just so crazy,--"

Once again, Hunk was tuned out and Lance saw the pure happiness and joy in Hunk's face. A human did that, no, love did. Then it struck him.

"Sorry, Hunk, mind if I write some stuff down right now?" said Lance as he scrambled to find his songbook. Hunk just shrugged and fell back-first onto his bed with a heavy love-filled sigh.

------------------------ -In Keith's POV-

I wanted more time than this. An hour's flight wasn't nearly enough time. I don't even know what The Tailor fully looks like! His song covers are only silhouettes, and the call barely showed his face. Okay, Keith, you got this.

I slowly got up from my airplane seat, grabbed my backpack, and headed to the baggage claim. Wait, how will I check into a hotel without getting recognized? Can I ask Lance to check in for me? Yeah! I'll do that. Stupid stupid stupid. Why haven’t I planned this out before?

I took out my phone and texted the number Katie gave me.

>Hey, it's Chief Keith. Mind sending me your address?

-------------------- -In Lance's POV-

I was tuning up my guitar when I got a text from Chief Keith. Hunk had left and met up with Shay after Lance hyped him up to go ask her out. I shot a text back with the address and instructions to Keith and continued to tune. After getting a good sound from my old guitar, I started singing. There was this song I had adored since I first heard it. It’s a simple song that I desperately want to apply to my life one day. I want to have someone in mind. So when I have someone this song applies to, I know it's real. I'll know it's true love.

-In Keith's POV-

Getting out of my Uber, and telling him to hold on for me to come back, I got out and looked at the University. The same one I went to years ago. I grabbed my suitcase and my backpack, and headed for the dorms. The rooms weren't in a hallway like most dorms are, but outside, kind of like a motel. It was better for fresh air I guess. Building C, room 7. I walk down the sidewalk, and hear a vague tune. As I come closer to room 7, the tune gets louder. I stood there, in awe. It may be the 8 o'clock sunset, because it all just felt like a dream. The colors from the sky were shining at the door, as I listened and just soaked it in. Like I was transported to another beautiful reality. I stood quietly, in front of the door, listening.

-In Lance's POV-

"I'm lucky I'm in love with my best friend. Lucky to have been where I have been. Lucky to be coming home again."

I put myself in the shoes of others as I sang the song. I put myself in Hunk's shoes, since he's practically head over heels with Shay, and it's admirable. I put myself in my father's shoes, because even though they’ve been together for ages, he loves my mom so much, and you can tell. I want to experience what they experienced.

" Lucky we're in love in every way. Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed. Lucky to be coming home someday."

As I continued to strum the chords, I felt a soft knock on my door. Must be Hunk. I continued to strum as I spoke up to answer the door.

-In Keith's POV-

I heard a small "Come in, Hunk, I'm not naked." and was slightly confused. When I opened the door, a boy was on a small dorm bed, strumming a beat up guitar. I recognized him from the call. He was tan and had a face carved by angels. The dim sunset lighting from the slightly opened door didn't help my awe. His features seemed enhanced, and his long eyelashes moved with slight movement as he watched his fingers move to different chords and strum the guitar. I saw a small grin creep up on the boy's face, was this Lance?

"How'd the date go?" he said with a small chuckle.

I was obviously confused, so I let out a small reply.

"What date?" I managed to croak, still in awe by this boy's beauty.

The boy looked up at me with first a look of confusion, then slight embarrassment. He gently put his guitar down, dusted off his clothes and then stood up.

"Chief Keith! Sorry for that, my roommate just went on a date with his girl, and I thought you were him. The name's Lance, and I heard you liked my music? I'm a huge fan of your newest song, by the way!"

He walked up to me and held out his hand to give me a handshake. I hesitated but shook his hand. Lance. He looked and sounded so much better in person. Even the way he said his name was miles better than on the phone. No Keith shake those thoughts! Act professional!

"It's an honor to finally meet you, but just Keith is fine. And thanks, I'm a huge fan too."

In all this mesmerization, I forgot the purpose of being there. I snapped out of my trance and realized I was still holding his hand from shaking it, so I let it go and put my hand behind my head.

"Uhhh… would you mind checking in for me at a hotel? I really don't want any publicity for being here and checking in on my own might attract attention…”

Way to go, Keith. Sounding like a scammer more and more. I felt a bit hot, so I took off my hood.

Lance just nodded, then smiled, and then looked like he was going to burst out laughing. After a bit, he roared out in a joyous laughter. I just looked at him, and asked, "What's so funny?"

After calming down, he pointed to my head, laughed a bit more, then managed to say "Is that a mullet??"

Realizing that I was indeed wearing a mullet wig, I just dropped my facial expression. "It's a disguise, I had to!" I hate being laughed at, even by a strangely attractive boy.

"Let's just head out, before it's too late." Lance said wiping a faux laughing tear from his eye. I started to drag my suitcase out of the door, when Lance grabbed it from me, leading me to the idling Uber car. Wow. What a gentleman.

I told the Uber to drive to the Arizona Inn, and turned my head towards Lance. I met my muse, and he probably will never know how much he means to me. The car ride was awkward, but more likely just to me, since Lance was sitting on his phone and occasionally looking out the window to see where we were going. I followed his lead, took out my phone, and pretended to scroll through socials to make it seem more natural.

We arrive, and I turn to Lance to discuss the plan.

"Uh, so you just go in, use your credit card, and I'll pay you back. It’s just so it can be in your name and I won't get tipped off by anyone. Got it?"

Lance just nodded and sashayed into the entrance. His confidence was mesmerizing.

Minutes later, he returned with a small brochure, a baggage cart, and the room key. I let it a sigh of relief as I got out of the Uber, and started to take my backpack out of the trunk. As I reached for the backpack, but Lance swiftly grabbed it and laid it on the baggage cart. Damn. That was… oddly attractive. I gave him a small smile, and took my suitcase, and laid it beside my backpack.

"You know," said Lance, all while closing the trunk and running his fingers through his hair, "I honestly thought you would be a lot more stuck up than you are. You know, since you're famous and all."

I took the handle of the cart and turned to Lance, and gave him a small smile.

"Guess you can't judge a book by its cover, huh."

Lance chuckled. "I guess not. I'll see you tomorrow, mullet!" Lance said while ducking his head into the Uber.

I rolled my eyes. Mullet… pshhh. I watched the car drive off, and I pushed the trolley inside and onto an elevator. Today was certainly eventful, now I have to see what tomorrow will bring. Just the thought of it. Hanging out with Lance. I smiled a small smile as the elevator doors closed.

------

to be continuedddddd

[luckystarchild]

Hello! I wanted to ask for the fanfic emoji game...

😅😈🎶

You can choose which to answer or answer all three, I was excited and couldn't decide between them lol. Also, I've really gotten into Lord Huron after I saw them mentioned a while back, so I'm interested in listening to any other recommendations you may have!

I just answered the first one (it was the only emoji one person sent in) but here are the others!

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

Oh. So many points. SO, SO, SO MANY! The worst, meanest, nastiest, saddest bits are still to come, though.

Oh wait, this said "playful."

Hmm.

Whoops.

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

I listen to rain sounds when I write! Nothing with lyrics. I find them distracting, so only ambient sounds or instrumental tracks make it onto my writing playlist. Jóhann Jóhannsson's entire body of work will always be at the top of my writing music.

I have lists of songs that have inspired me on certain projects, though. I listen to them to get into the right mood/mindset.

As for what's been playing on a loop lately? That's "Blood Sport," "Mine," and "Take Aim" by Sleep Token.

So happy you liked Lord Huron! SO GOOD. I have all the Lord Huron albums on vinyl, haha.

Lately my music tastes have leaned toward Sleep Token, so if you like rock (mixed with a ton of other genres and a lot of dramatic flair), that might be worth checking out.

I'll try to think of more! (My music has kind of been stuck in a rut in recent weeks.)

[lifeofkaze]

Get the Shakes, Hit the Brakes

A/N: I know the Rockstars are going their own, original way now, but that doesn't mean I can't share the odd (fandom) Rockstar short with you, does it? No, that's what I thought. As always, Katriona Cassiopeia belongs to my darling @kc-and-co.

I've put my foot in my mouth

It erases all doubt

I get the shakes, hit the brakes

'Cause you know I'm freaking out

~ Danko Jones - Ship of Lies ~

The new year had brought both a flurry from the North and Equinox back to New York City. While Lizzie was sorry to leave behind the sunny hills of California, where she had spent their Christmas break visiting her brother with Orion,  the city that never slept was a welcome change for her. After all, she wasn’t sleeping much either. 

It had all started innocently, with a phone call from their management shortly after they had landed in LA. Their label had signed a new singer, a young woman with great prospects, who could do with a little of Equinox’s reflected glory; if Orion could imagine writing a song for her?

Turned out, Orion very much could. 

He and the singer in question - a very pretty girl with flaming red hair and an Irish accent - had had an extensive Zoom call on the same evening, and Orion had delved into the challenge headfirst straight after. Usually, Lizzie left him alone when inspiration struck, but when he continued working all through the Christmas weekend, she couldn’t help the edge of annoyance creeping up on her.

On the plane from LAX to JFK, Orion didn’t have any more words than necessary for Lizzie to spare. He was glued to his notebook, absentmindedly tapping his pencil against his lips, the headphones with the demo loops he had recorded like a physical barrier between them. Defeated, Lizzie left him to his devices, leaning back in her seat to try and catch some sleep. She could hear the faintest wisps of music when Orion turned up the volume of his phone and felt the heaviness of sleep vanishing again as it had done for the past couple of days. Glumly, she sunk deeper into her seat and turned her head, watching the clouds fly by outside the window. 

Her mood didn’t increase until it was time to land. Orion was oblivious to her silence, still engrossed in what he’d written on the plane, but their friends Murphy and Katriona, who had come to pick them up, exchanged alarmed glances.

“What’s the matter?” Katriona asked her quietly. “Do you need me to hug you, or hit him?”

“Neither,” Lizzie replied, “only that.” 

She took the steaming cup of coffee Katriona had brought for her, flicked her sunglasses onto her nose, and followed Orion past the photographers waiting outside with her head kept down. There was no use in complaining; they were here for work, after all.

***

Lizzie had hoped being reunited with the other members of Equinox would help take her mind off Orion’s detachment, but the distraction she had hoped for wouldn’t come. What came instead, was a visitor.

She came into the studio with Orion, who had been out since early in the morning. The cold wind had brought a healthy flush to her cheeks, her long red hair beneath a maroon woolly hat covered with specks of stray snowflakes. In her hand she carried a steaming mug of coffee; the other was resting on Orion’s arm. 

He introduced Morgaine Yarwood to them with a warm smile that made Lizzie want to roll her eyes, an urge she almost gave in to when Orion invited her to stay for their rehearsals. Morgaine sat on the sidelines listening, and even though she stayed silent, Lizzie found herself thoroughly thrown off by her presence. 

Morgaine joining their rehearsals quickly turned into a habit. She was there every day, coming in with Orion after having worked with him on her new song for a couple of hours. Apparently, it was a duet now. Lizzie still hadn’t heard anything of it except for a few lines she had caught here and there, but soon her curiosity gave way to irritation at Orion’s lack of focus. She wished they would just record the bloody thing and be done with it, but that feeling changed when the two of them actually hit the studio.

Orion had invited Lizzie and the others to their final takes. Lizzie was more apprehensive than she had expected, keeping to the back of the control room as Orion and Morgaine took their spots behind the microphones. 

Talk ceased as the first notes filled the air and they began to sing. Two strands of opposing melodies weaved an intricate web of sound, which was impossible not to get caught in. Her voice was sweet and clear, perfectly complemented by Orion’s darker, husky vocals. The pace of the ballad picked up while they sang about how they inspired by each other, two halves of the same thing creating something infinitely bigger than them. Lizzie inadvertently tapped her foot to the compelling rhythm; when she noticed, she made herself stop. 

The song reached its climax, and suddenly, Lizzie found the air in the studio room too stuffy to breathe. She pushed between her mesmerised friends, trying not to slam the door on her way out. There was something not unlike anger bubbling under her skin, a nagging feeling of doubt, disappointment, and deep frustration.

The feeling lingered even after Lizzie had returned to her hotel room. She changed into her workout clothes, hoping the hotel gym would help settle her thoughts, when with a soft beep the hotel door was unlocked. Orion stood in the door, his features a mixture of worry and wariness.

“Liz?” he said carefully. “Are you alright? The others said you left all of a sudden.”

Lizzie was about to reply when a shock of red hair appeared next to him.

“It’s such a shame you left,” Morgaine said with a warm smile. “I really hoped to hear your opinion on our song.”

“Our song, is it now?” Lizzie snapped, not at her but at Orion, who shrugged slightly.

“It’s as much Morgaine’s work as it is mine. We wrote it together.”

“Sure.”

Orion sighed. “You don’t understand –”

“Apparently, I don’t,” Lizzie hissed. “Sorry, I’m not a songwriter. Sorry, I’m only your stupid little girlfriend keeping you from living your best life!”

Orion looked as if she’d lost her mind. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This bloody song is all you’ve been thinking about for weeks. Don’t you see it? You forgot all about what actually matters!”

Orion’s eyes hardened. “No matter who I write for, every piece of music is a part of me.” When Lizzie scoffed he added, more sharply, “What’s your problem? Both of us had side projects before. You and David are planning a cover project as we speak.”

“That’s different.”

“I fail to see how.”

“David is part of the band. He’s our friend, and he has a girlfriend.”

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“Fuck this,” Lizzie shook her head. “I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

Snatching up her running shoes, she shouldered between Orion and Morgaine and started down the hallway, half wishing Orion would call after her. He didn’t. Brushing aside her fury, Lizzie pulled her ponytail tighter, jumped down the steps and left the hotel.

She didn’t pay attention to where she ran. New York City flew past her, a blur of concrete, faces, and flashing lights. Her anger drove her on, making her heart beat even faster than her steps. Stopping for breath near a small bodega, a colourful display of tabloid papers caught her eye, the one Lizzie picked up leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. 

She stared at the picture of Orion and Morgaine on the cover, which must have been taken on the day Orion had taken her to band rehearsals for the first time. She was wearing the same woolly hat she had back then and - Lizzie gritted her teeth at the sight - had her arm looped through Orion’s as they walked the snowy streets of New York City. A smaller picture of Orion and Lizzie herself had been put next to it, showing them on the day of their arrival in New York. They both wore sunglasses, Orion walking several feet ahead of her with his headphones on, Lizzie following behind with her lips pressed together.

Putting the magazine down, Lizzie sharply turned and picked up her pace again. She ran until the skies turned dark and the colourful neon lights took over. The temperatures dropped considerably, and Lizzie wished she hadn’t forgotten her phone in her hurry to leave; as it was, she had no way of telling anyone where she was, even if she had known herself. She was weighing her options on what to do when the sound of a guitar reached her ear. Curious, Lizzie followed it.

A little further down the road, a lone street musician was still braving the cold. He was clad in a shabby coat, the case of his guitar set at his feet. He gave Lizzie a fleeting smile as she approached, immediately soaked up in his music again.

The cold and her aching legs forgotten, Lizzie stopped to listen. He was good - very good - but it wasn’t so much his music that had her staring. It was a different young man she saw before her inner eye, a little older, with dark hair that just about reached his shoulders, playing his songs by the side of a small canal in Manchester. Lizzie swallowed. How long ago that felt.

The next song began, breaking her from her thoughts. Goosebumps covered the backs of Lizzie’s arms as the first notes of Dreamcatcher Girl drifted through the air. She thought of the first time she had heard it in its entirety - at Glastonbury Festival, in front of thousands of people, but meant for her alone - and hugged herself a little tighter. 

When the crowd dissolved, Lizzie lingered, pondering on what to do. She didn’t have a penny on her, but she didn’t want to leave the young man just like that either, so instead, she approached him with a friendly smile. There was mild curiosity on his face at first, but when he took a closer look, his eyes widened.

“Holy shit, aren’t you…?”

“I’m Lizzie, hi,” Lizzie said. “You were amazing. How long have you been at it?”

He swallowed visibly. “Two years now. Out here every day.”

“Keep going,” Lizzie smiled, “you’ll never know what comes off it.” 

She turned to leave when he suddenly blurted out, “Would you take a picture with me? I’m such a fan.”

“Of course.” Lizzie stood next to him and smiled broadly as he snapped a selfie. “Tag me when you upload it. I’ll give you a shoutout.” 

“That’s awesome, thank you!”

Lizzie shook her head. “No, thank you.” 

It took her a while to find her way back to the hotel, and by the time she reached the outside of her and Orion’s room, she was shaking from the cold and exhaustion. There was music drifting out into the hallway, which Lizzie recognised as the song she couldn’t bear to hear until the end earlier in the day. This time, she took the time to listen. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the doorframe as she did so, picking out all the little details that made Orion’s songs so special. There was so much of him in it, so many things she had come to love so dearly. The thought made her sad. Even now - upset, shaking, and with more than a door separating them - his music was so beautiful that it made the tears rise to her eyes. 

Bracing her shoulders, Lizzie knocked on the door. The music stopped abruptly, Orion appearing in the doorway a moment later. 

“You’re back,” he said superfluously. “Where have you been?”

Lizzie shrugged, slipping past him into the room. She said nothing as Orion sat on the bed and took up his guitar again, his fingers absentmindedly picking the strings.

“Have you calmed down?” he asked eventually. 

Again, Lizzie shrugged. “I think so.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.” Orion put away his guitar. “What you said about Morgaine earlier –“

“– was uncalled for, and I’m sorry,” Lizzie cut him off. “Being surrounded by so much genius can be a little overwhelming sometimes.”

“The sun doesn’t shine less bright for another star burning in the distance,” Orion replied softly. “You have no reason for doubt.”

“Don’t I?” Lizzie said, not able to keep the bitterness from her voice. “Your song suggests otherwise.”

Orion tilted his head. “What do you think the song is about?”

“About finding someone just like you. About belonging somewhere, with someone who understands you. Completes you.” More quietly, she added, “I had just hoped that someone would be me.”

Orion sighed, getting up and taking Lizzie’s icy hands. “When you and I look at each other on stage - how does that make you feel?”

“I don’t know. Happy, I guess?” 

“Your answer skims the surface of waters that run so much deeper. Try again.”

“Loved?” Lizzie frowned. “No. Seen.”

Orion nodded. “I bare my heart and soul with my music, but never all of it. Not to the world, at least. You get to see all of me.” His lips twitched. “The good, the bad, and the ugly.” 

“There isn’t anything ugly.” 

“Yes, there is, but my music turns it into something beautiful. You understand this because you understand me. Little drummer girl,” he smiled, running his thumb over her cheek, “I may have written the song with Morgaine, but how could you ever doubt that I was writing it for you?”

Lizzie cast down her eyes. “I’m sorry for being so silly.”

“You weren’t silly.”

“Wasn’t I?”

“Maybe a little,” Orion laughed softly, kissing her. “Go and take a shower now and put on something warm. The song is recorded and in the mixing. Time to pay attention to what really matters.”

“What, the band?”

Orion’s laugh was warm as he pulled her closer.

“You and me.” 

[withgirl-sq]

🤡🎶🧐🎃✅🎉

🤡 What's a line, scene, or exchange you've written that made you laugh?

I think some of the earlier scenes with Azula, Sokka and Katara in my Avatar Azula AU would fit this but the one that comes to mind is:

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

I tend to have a TV show in the background or a video essay but when I do listen to music it's usually a multifandom video on YouTube, this is my favourite-

🧐 Do you spend much time researching for your stories?

Most of my research is trying to remind myself what happened in canon haha

I could probably stand to do more research!

🎃 Do you write fics for certain holidays? Which is your favorite holiday inspired fic?

Answered in the previous post 🥰

✅ What's something that appears in your fics over and over and over again, even if you don't mean to?

Pregnancy appears a lot

I also usually pick one character in each fandom who is going to get hurt while the other person worries over them. For Azutara it's Azula getting hurt, for SwanQueen it's Regina getting hurt etc

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

Whenever I get a long in depth comment on a fic it literally makes my day, but any comment in general makes me so happy, just knowing that someone took the time out of their day to tell me what they thought means the world to me - so thank you to anyone who has ever been kind enough to comment!!!!

Thank you for asking 🥰🥰🥰

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

"tavern/grendel/hercules" sounds absolutely fascinating and I think I will have to read it even though I don't go here

May I ask why both "grendel" and "hercules", since they're from different mythologies?

Olim sudor Herculis (Latin) - Carmina Burana // Beowulf trans. Seamus Heaney (Old English)

okay, so. this isn't really fully based on either of these things. so much as i am rotating them in my brain as i'm writing something. "olim sudor herculis" is a latin drinking song of sorts from Ye Olde Times (this is the version i listen to lol. unironically i love this song. i originally heard it in a class about medieval history and stuff, but like. i literally listen to it for fun. it's part of what inspired this fic, because i was listening to it for fun. ...i probably have weird taste) and the lyrics when translated are about like, love ruins glory, a lover can't be a hero because they're unable to resist their heart and/or sexual desires, and that even the strongest men like hercules can be made fools by it--the only way to win against love is to not have it, and run away from it. which is. lmao. anyway, there's a little more to it than that, but that's the basic kinda run down. and it's really less that the fic is based on that (although i'm thinking about this as a flawed, old perspective--that the only way to not lose to love is to run from it, and then spinning what the song presents as negative--A lover has no regret for wasted time, / But stupidly and pointlessly toils at Venus' comand--as like. the time isn't wasted, the work is worth it, do not run from it--idk that's all just vibes rn) so much as the whole thing has that Medieval Vibe and all which helps lend to the atmosphere for the fic and get me in The Mood as i'm writing hence i listen to it on loop while writing it. so there's the "hercules" part.

grendel is also more metaphorical/below the surface as i'm writing than literal, because the fic is going to deal with loneliness and like. a pretty obvious (not the only, but not a reach either) interpretation of why grendel attacks in the first place is loneliness, feeling like an outsider, being an outsider--obviously, it's not so simple as that, as grendel is a literal monster, but the question of monsterhood and what makes a monster, how we relate to monsters for their loneliness and their bodies and their alienation and their rage and boundless emotion and "disgusting" nature, etc, really comes into play. but like it literally says that like, what harrows grendel is the "hall-joys", the joy and celebration and laughter, the community he is irreparably separate from?? you know?? and that can be interpreted a lot of ways--the extreme version of your neighbor who keeps having loud parties at 3 am and the dorm walls are so thin and you're about ready to rip their arms off? sure. the deep and piercing loneliness of hearing other people laugh and have fun and love each other and be a community knowing that not only are you explicitly not welcome but that you will probably never find that ever? (grendel's mother loved him, was willing to rend people limb from limb for him, but did she like him? did they spend time together? did she kill for him out of the love of a mother, one might call obligatory or biological? did she kill for him out of honor, the bloody cycle the whole fucking epic is about? did they love each other? how alone were they? does it matter, when in the end, they both die alone?) yeah also valid! or the more textual interpretation that grendel's just eeeevil and mean and hates all things good and holy and light and wants to kill it just for the sake of killing it? etc. anyway the point is i have a lot of feelings about monsters and loneliness and beowulf is about cycles and monsters and cause and effect and blood and honor and heroes and the end.

ALL OF THIS however is mostly just vibes that im rotating while writing a much smaller fic which is really more about trent and friendship and loneliness, set in a fantasy tavern setting lol

[nonadhesiveness]

🎶 🍆 💖 for the asks!!

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

I can’t listen to music while I write. It does something to my brain—it’s like words lose all meaning and all I can hear is their rhythm and sound. If a song has inspired a story, I’ll listen to it on repeat while thinking about the story or while making notes on the story, but I switch it off again before writing. Recently, my song on repeat was ‘Gorgeous’ by Taylor Swift, for the story Cambridge Rules. I also listened to ‘Sweet Nothing’ and ‘this is me trying’ a lot, which were the two other Taylor Swift songs the requester suggested.

—

🍆 Do you write the spicy stuffs? If so, what's your most popular nsfw fic?

There’s a spicy scene in The Marks They Leave Behind, but in general, no, I don’t write the spicy stuffs. I wish I could, and I have huge respect for writers who are able to write such scenes while keeping it emotionally engaging and not straying into something that sounds like a narration of a game of Twister meets a set of Ikea assembly instructions, but I think it’s painfully obvious I have no idea what I’m writing about and it comes over clichéd and cringe. 

—

💖 What made you start writing? 

I don’t know. It’s just something that I did. I loved listening to stories, and I could write words on a page, so I did (my handwriting was far better back then). It feels like writing is just part of who I am—which is why it’s always a really bad sign when I stop.

—

Thanks for the ask!

[lajulie24]

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

I mean, for the sheer crackiness of the premise, I think I have to go with A Girl In Trouble (Is a Temporary Thing). Also a wild ride to write, since it was intended to be a one-shot and grew multiple chapters and feelings and stuff. I guess I should’ve known that using the show I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant as an inspiration would go to unexpected places. Last Friday Night is an early fic I wrote that was just extremely random and a bit of a ride as well.

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

That depends on what “while you write” means. I can’t really listen to anything with words while I’m putting actual words on paper, because my brain wants to follow the lyrics of the song instead of pay attention. However, listening to music and taking a walk, driving somewhere in my car, cleaning my house, etc does figure into my writing process quite a lot. I start thinking of scenes and then play little movies in my head, for which various songs are the soundtrack, and that often gets me started on a scene that I actually write down later on.

Song on a loop: I recently discovered Lorde’s “Yellow Flicker Beat,” and it feels perfect for Leia. At some point I may write a fic inspired by it.

Thank you so much for the ask!

Send me an emoji to ask a fanfic writer question!

[pinkgrapefloyd]

😈🎶⛔💖🎯

holy shit you are SPOILING me <3 tysm for the ask!

😈 Has there been a point in a story where you did something just to be playfully mean to your readers?

In Anti-Hero I for sure made it ambiguous that when Robby called Kreese, he was just rescheduling the plan they'd agreed on, not going rogue. like he specifically texted demetri "fuck your timeline" not "fuck your plan" but because I had not revealed how far they were into the planning stage, I knew people would be super worried.

🎶 Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

the bulk of what i listen to throughout the day is high energy songs that you could sing at karaoke (abba, queen, taylor swift, that sort of thing) but i do have a couple playlists with slower sad songs. Sometimes I'll put one of those on in the background, but I mostly write without music.

I recently did sing (and dance to) HOT TO GO with a bunch of people at a queer karaoke night which was the best, so that's definitely been on repeat (independent from writing).

⛔ Do you have a fic you started, but scrapped?

Not sure if it counts as scrapped since I don't want to delete it, but I don't have any interest in continuing my winter soldier fic from 2017. I have a lot of unfinished recent fics but I haven't consciously abandoned any of them, most just aren't that high in the priority ranking.

💖 What made you start writing?

It never really felt like an active choice to me, to be honest. I always loved playing make-believe even as a little kid, and at some point I started writing down little stories we'd played or some ideas I had inspired by my favorite books and movies. The way every kid draws, but only some people continue to do it into adulthood, I guess? That was writing for me.

🎯 Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

I don't think I write that many "plot twists". Anti-Hero for example hit pretty standard romance / comedy / family reconciliation beats. A couple people guessed what the ambidextrous misunderstanding was about way before it happened, which I thought was really fun!

There was also a rather ambiguous proposal in my Frey & McGray fic. The character being proposed to didn't catch it, but about half my readers did, which made me really happy.

If you've guessed major Anti-Hero plot points before they happened, let me know! I'm hyped to hear your takes!