#I am DONE with summer >:( I want FALL I want LEAVES I want COOL WEATHER and HALLOWEEN!!!

[paper-star-ships]

Do y'all have workout playlists?? If so gimme

[urfavlarry]

hii! i love your writing so much! So can i request Joost x fellow artist!reader with one bed trope? Something like - Joost and reader have tour together, but hotel staff messes up their reservation and instead of two different rooms they get one and maybe reader is all shy with the whole situation bc she has feelings for him idunno 😭🙏

Awkward Situations

Joost Klein x artist!reader

summarry: ..one bed in the hotel room, how does that go when both of you just want to go to sleep after a tiring day from touring

genre: fluff!

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“I’m very sorry, but all rooms are booked for the night so there is nothing I can do for you other then give you the card to the room we booked for you.” The receptionist says to you, looking at you with a sympathetic look. You’ve been trying to bargain with her for the past 15 minutes, telling her you booked a totally different room but the hotel was full since it was summer and most people are on holiday at this time. You sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and take the key card, thanking her quietly before grabbing your suitcase and leaving. Joost trailed quietly behind you, letting you cool down since you were a bit upset from the situation. Anyone would be since you were tired from performing all day and couldn’t wait to have some tine for yourself but the hotel just had to mess something up. You didn’t try and cause a scene, it was mostly just going back and forth trying to find a solution but without success.

You walked down the hall, dragging your luggage with you and open the door, setting your stuff down and grabbing important stuff before running off to the bathroom. Meanwhile Joost looked around the room. It had a lot of space, the balcony giving you a great view of Frankfurt, the place you performed tonight. He lit a cigarette and snapped a quick photo before putting his phone away and admiring the view. He watched the cars pass by, music softly playing somewhere across the street and laughing could be heard just a few streets away. He threw the cigarette away, walking back into the warm atmosphere of the hotel. You were already done with getting yourself ready for the bed, laying down on your stomach and watching something on your laptop. You edited some footage your crew took from the concert and tried to get as much done as possible before deciding to watch a movie. You put on a random shitty comedy movie, getting comfortable under the covers. You were on the side of the bed where the nightstand was, leaving Joost to sleep on the side near the wall. You heard him get out the bathroom and feel the bed sink, a strong smell of some random shampoo hitting you like a truck. You got some butterflies in your stomach, trying to focus on the movie.

You were half asleep at around 2:29 AM, yawning and putting on a different movie. You closed your eyes, Joost already asleep and snoring softly. He was the type to always toss and turn in his sleep, but tonight he was suspiciously still. You were falling in and out of consciousness, seconds feeling like hours when you suddenly feel him moving around. He put a hand on your waist, a quiet yelp escaping your mouth. He pulled you a bit closer, his back only a few inched away from you. Sighing, you accept your fate and try to fall asleep, succeeding just after a few seconds.

In the morning, you felt trapped. You couldn’t move, eyes shooting open. You were faced with someone’s chest.. Joosts chest. Your face felt hot but you chose to ignore it, admiring his morning features. You didn’t dare move, knowing Joost wasn’t really the biggest fan of mornings, practically having to drag him out of bed every time you were on tour. He started shifting, his eyes slowly opening so you quickly close yours, trying to act like you’re asleep. He loosened his grip on you, you could feel his intense gaze on you before feeling lips on your forehead. “Morning..” He says in his groggy, morning voice before getting up, probably to shower or change. After what felt like hours, you open your eyes, grabbing your phone and checking the plans you had for today. The next concert was next week in Switzerland, then two days after that concert you were going to Italy. You were excited, always having the dream to travel the world someday which was finally becoming a reality. You shiver slightly, standing up to grab a hoodie from your suitcase and skin care, sitting down and grab a small mirror you brought so you could get ready. After finishing, you put your hair in a hairstyle you thought would fit your outfit for the day. Standing up you go on the balcony, getting some fresh air. You let your mind wander, thinking about all kinds of things before feeling a pressence beside you. Of course it was Joost, who else would it be? He stood there besidde you quietly, coffee in hand and handing you your usual. You thank him quietly, letting the warm drink heat your hands up.

It was a comfortable silence, something you usually had on mornings like these before Joost spoke up. “Slept well?” You look in his direction and nod, siping on your drink.He also nodded, the soft and comfortable atmosphere turning tense. He cleared his throat, trying his best to come up with a topic which wasn’t usually this hard for him, so why was it now? “Are you.. okay? Were you uncomfortable?” He asks, his tone being more worried then anything.

You shook your head, finally sparing him a glance. “It felt nice.” You say, awkwardly and he just nods, letting the silence engulf you once more. You went inside, mentally slapping yourself for being so awkward around your best friend. You get changed and decide to go look around Frankfurt. You and Joost talked like nothing ever happened, leaving the morning incident behind. You went inside a museum you found interesting, paying for everything and going inside to explore. It was nice, a lot of things took your interest but Joost seemed like he was in his own world, just walking around and looking dazed. Once you decided it was time to head back, you made your way to the hotel once more. You met a few fans, most of them being thirsty for Joost anyway but finally you got to your destination. Joost looked pretty annoyed about something, sparing you a few glances and pouts. You sat down next to him on the bed, deciding to get the information out of him. “What’s wrong?” You ask, making him chuckle. “Being blunt, are we?” You shrug and raise a brow, your leg bouncing impatiently. “Joost, what’s bothering you hm? You haven’t started a random topic for 15 minutes. Which is very unlike you might I add.” He stares at you dumbfounded but shakes his head. He shrugs and looks like he is trying to find the right words to explain his sour mood. “Well, last night..” He starts and you mentally curse. You really were hoping this wasn’t mentioned but it had to be at some point.

“I liked.. what happened and I’m pretty sure you did too because you would’ve spoken up about it, I know you enough to know you speak up about things when you’re uncomfortable with something.” He starts and you try your best to not break eye contact with him, letting him speak his mind. “I didn’t only like that, I like you and have for almost a year and I thought we could.. try?” You smirk, deciding to tease him; “Try..?” You smile and he looks at you with a ‘really?’ face. “You want me to spell it out for you? I want us, to be together, at least try. We can work something out I know we can.” He says and you nod, inching closer to him. “I’d love to Joost.” You say and he stands up spinning you around making you giggle like a child. The rest of the night was just you two making fun of the situation and what convinced Joost to confess. It really was funny that one bed made you get together with the most amazing person on earth.

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[tulip-room]

Crush Next Door - s. kiyoomi

syn. your childhood friend that you lost contact with moves next door to you

Ch. 1 || Playground

Warnings. None

Words. 1.2k

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-‘๑’- Fall, 16 yrs ago (elementary school)

“Just one game?” A small child's voice calls to another child. It was a sunny day, birds were chirping and leaves were bristling in the wind. Most days as a child are remembered as nice, when you still have an optimistic view on the world.

Currently two children are in a bit of a standoff, one wanting to stay where he is out of the sun and in the cooling shade. The other wants him to play with her, she doesn’t have a good reason for picking him out of everyone else on the playground. Perhaps it was because he was sitting by himself and she thought he could use a friend.

Whatever the reason may be there they were. “I don’t want to. I want to sit right where I am.” The boy huffed as he crossed his arms and kept distance between the two of them.

“But I want to be your friend,” the girl responded as she took a step closer to him. “We can play in the sandbox! There’s a shaded area so you won’t be in the sun.” She tried to bargain with the boy.

“Will you be quiet if I do?”

“Come on,” she holds her hand out and waits for the boy with the dark curls to take her hand. He lets out a sigh —it’s quite a funny emotion to see on a child his age, and takes her hand. The two walk to the sandbox and sure enough there’s a small patch of sand that remains untouched by the sun. As much as he hates the feeling of sand getting stuck in his clothes he climbs in with her.

“What’s your name?” The girl asks beginning to make a hole in the sand.

“Sakusa Kiyoomi,” he answers simply as he helps her make a hill in the middle of the hole she was digging.

“I’m L/N Y/N,” she gives him a kind smile as he helps her. Sakusa can’t quite place the feeling but his heart seems to beat a little faster at her smile. He gives her a small smile back, the corners of his lips quirking upwards.

The two stay like that until their teacher calls them back inside. Playing in the sand and talking about meaningless things like why is the sky blue, how do leaves change color in fall, do you think if I jumped off that I could land on my feet? The endearing things children usually ramble about.

-‘๑’- Summer, present time

You see the moving truck in the driveway of the house next to you and smile. It had been so long since someone had lived there, you were happy the house was finally getting used. You rush around your kitchen gathering flour and other ingredients to makes cookies.

You wanted to make a housewarming gift for the neighbor. You hoped they liked sweets otherwise it would be an awkward walk back to your house with a container of cookies. While the cookies were in the oven you changed out of your flour stained clothes into something a little more presentable.

When the timer finally went off to let you know the cookies were done you grabbed a Tupperware from your cabinet and placed a cloth inside to put the cookies on. You put an oven mitt on and carefully set the warm sheet tray on top of the stove. You let them sit for ten minutes as you gathered bottles of water and a can of soda.

If they didn’t like the cookies they would at least take the drinks, you hoped. Once the cookies were safely sealed inside of the container you start making your way over to the house next door. The moving truck had left so you hoped it was a good time to visit and that you weren’t interrupting anything. You take a deep breath before knocking on the door.

What you weren’t expecting when the door opened was to see a familiar set of curls. A wide smile breaks across your face as your eyes light up. “Kiyoomi,” you say simply. It seems he’s just as shocked as you were. It doesn’t take him very long before he’s pulling you into a hug.

The hug is a little awkward with the Tupperware still in your arms but you take it in stride. You pull away and look up at him in awe. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you too,” he says with a smile of his own etched into his face. “I didn’t know you lived down here.”

“Yeah, have for a few years. What are you doing here?”

“I play for the MSBY Black Jackals.”

“Oh! You still play volleyball?” He nods and notices the Tupperware in your hands.

“Here,” he holds his hands out and takes the Tupperware from you. “You’re still baking I see. I’ll finally get to have your sweet treats again,” he says with a smile.

“Yeah, I opened up my own bakery. You’ll have to come by some time, my treat.”

“It’s a date. You should come to one of my games, I can save you seats.” He sounds a little nervous as he asks, like he’s expecting a rejection.

“I would love to. It’s been forever since I’ve seen you play.” Your feet shuffle around, you were elated to see him but it was also a bit nerve racking. You hadn’t spoken in years, losing touch after you had to move.

“I have to get back to unpacking but why don’t you come over Friday? We can have dinner and watch a movie.”

“I would like that,” you say softly and plays with her necklace. He catches the glint of metal moving on the necklace and he teases her lightly.

“Still wearing that?” He motions his head towards her necklace. You pull it out from under your shirt and show off the ring hanging from it, it’s slightly rusted from age but still in decent condition.

“Of course, where’s yours?”

“I don’t want to lose it so I put it on a keyring and attached it to my volleyball bag.” You let out a small laugh as you think of the circumstances.

“It seems I was right about them.”

“You were.”

“Do you need help unpacking?” You ask and gesture towards the boxes piled high behind him.

“No, I already have someone helping. You get back home, I’ll see you Friday.” He turns to set the Tupperware of cookies down before he pulls her into another hug. “It was good seeing you Y/N.”

You wrap your arms around him and take a deep breath. You almost forgot how nice his hugs were. “It was good to see you too, Kiyoomi. I figure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other since you’re so close again.”

He gives you a gentle squeeze before you pull away from the hug. “I would like that.” You give him one last smile and a wave as you begin walking back over to your house. He doesn’t close his door until he sees you’re safely back inside.

“And who was that Omi Omi?” His face drops as he heard the voice of Atsumu. He sighs and picks the Tupperware up to take it to his kitchen.

“A friend.” He doesn’t offer more context than that, he doesn’t need to.

“Aww, I didn’t know you had friends outside of the team Omi Omi!” Atsumu teases him as he breaks down a box and throws it in the recycling can.

“Just keep unpacking Atsumu.” He rolls his eyes as he goes back to unpacking the box of kitchen supplies.

I hope you guys liked the first chapter <3 more chapters coming soon! This series is really just an excuse to write soft Sakusa lol

taglist: @hiraethwa @loveelylacey

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[after-witch]

Surrounded by Hunger [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: Surrounded by Hunger [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: You're an artist, with no muse. Until Mahito shows up on your back porch.

Word count: 3500ish

notes: yandere, mild body horror, reader is a trans male

“I want you to paint me,” Mahito says, with an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face. No smile, no leer today. Just a somber frown as he appears from nowhere--as he often does--and sits himself in front of you. 

The cool summer evening air would smell as clean as the breeze, but for the cigarette lazily perched in the ashtray on the edge of the porch. 

Smoking.  Your one vice. Or is it your eighth? You don’t keep much track of your vices, these days. If you did, you might actually try to quit them. But smoking is one of two current addictions that you can’t fathom letting go of right now.

The other one is sitting next to you.

"Like one of my French girls?” you murmur, lips quirking up. 

Mahito tilts his head towards you, still frowning. You wonder, idly, if he has an actual brain inside his skull. Do curses have brains? You’re not sure about the technicalities of how they function, but it’s not something you’d really like to ask Mahito, either.

But it’s like you can see his brain working from the minute movements of his body language. The body is one thing you’re usually good at reading, and you ought to be, considering your career. No one wanted paintings from someone who didn’t understand the basics of body movement.

“Ah,” he says, finally, with a small smile. “Titanic. Directed by James Cameron. 1997.” His smile gets a little perkier. On anyone else, that smile might look deranged. But it suits Mahito, you think.

“I liked the sinking part the best. The way they…” He flicks his fingers in the air, and makes an eerily accurate sound reminiscent of bodies banging against metal parts. “And the frozen baby!” He closes his eyes almost all the way, leaving just enough room for you to see his gaze slide over to you. “Humans do love representing their own misery, don’t they?”

Something squeezes in your chest. It might have been a barb about you and your work; and it might not have been. One of the trickiest things about Mahito was that you could never be sure when he was trying to hurt you, and when he wasn’t. 

The worst part was, you knew that it didn’t matter either way. It wasn’t like you’d ever ask him to leave. He knew that, too. Maybe that was the actual worst part.

He doesn’t elaborate on his statement. Instead, he leans his head back, looking at the darkening sky; the deep blue of the evening oozing away to make room for the blacker part of the night. His profile like this is fascinating--the way his hair seems to almost shimmer in the fading light, falling back against the side of his neck. 

“Well?” He asks.

You couldn’t say no. You were already imagining ways to capture him, like this. In profile, staring up at the sky with eyes that were anything but human. With a brain that was perhaps not a real brain. With a body he could change at will. 

Despite all that, here he is, sitting on your porch, breathing in your cigarette smoke and staring up at the ordinary evening sky.

What does he see that you don’t? That no human does? Why does he even come around you, when he could be off trying to--your brain fumbles for snatches of what he’s told you--battling sorcerers? 

Maybe you can capture something of the answer in your painting. 

“Okay,” you say, lightly, even though the answer is anything but. “But we have to go inside for the sketch. There’s not enough light out here this late.”

Mahito smiles. In profile, you see only the half of it, the edge of his lips curling, a glimpse of his teeth. 

You’ll be up all night sketching, trying to capture this expression. 

--

Your first finished painting of Mahito isn’t all that great. The evening skyline was done from memory because the next few days had been cloudy and they stole the sky’s normal colors away. And no amount of mixing could quite give you the right shade for his hair; you put something new on order, a type of shimmer pigment. That might help for future pieces.

The expression, though. There was something in that. Something not quite human that you managed to capture, although if you had to do it over, you’d reconsider taking your drawing from sketch to painting. The sketch had something raw to it, like Mahito might just turn his head and wink at you. 

As an artist, you knew that such a subject was rare. It was not always easy to find inspiration that kept you working almost relentlessly, eager and passionate rather than staring at an empty canvas and willing the world to send something to you.

Mahito was a gift, wasn’t he? To an artist. To someone like you, who needed something to make your work stand out. And it does, here. Mahito looks unusual--striking, beautiful, but with something unpleasant itching to get out from underneath his skin. 

But still. It’s flawed. 

And that’s not the standard artist humble-brag designed to avoid a reputation of pompous pride. Your paintings, as a whole, just aren’t good enough. 

It’s why the galleries rejected you. Why what few connections you had with other painters tended to fade away, becoming more and more untethered as they were invited to galas, as they held openings, as their works went to auction, and you…

You sat on your porch smoking and waiting, heart pacing, for a curse to show up on your door.

--

Mahito stands in front of the revealed piece, quietly observing it. His fingers reach out and skim the canvas, bumping along a few rough areas of paint. His mouth parts a few times, then closes. 

You expect him to be blunt with some kind of critique. He’s never been shy with honesty, no matter how hurtful. It was something you hated and loved all with one confusing, awful sameness.

Instead, his gaze flits over every square of the canvas enough times that sweat begins to bead down the back of your neck. Does he hate it? Is he about to tell you that you’d be better off doing something else, something more ordinary, something more mundane? 

No.

What he does is turn his head towards you, slowly, something that is not quite a smile on his face. An expression that makes you think of the back porch, sunsets and cigarette smoke. 

“Now do it again.”

--

You should hate this, really. Someone who sticks around and more or less demands that they be your muse. Most artists purge these types of people from their lives, unwanted flypaper hangers-on who pout and demand to be painted. 

But Mahito is your muse, and you don’t hate it, and you don’t think he’s clingy or desperate like others who have found themselves on your back porch before. 

He’s your muse simply because he exists. You could not fathom knowing Mahito and not committing him to the canvas. The only shock is that it was his idea, not yours; and maybe, deep down, you were too afraid to ever ask him. In case he said no.

So you draw him, and paint him. He drapes himself over your couch wearing nothing, spreads himself on your bed with winter clothes in the summer heat; perches on the end of the kitchen stool and watches gnats circle a bowl of bananas. 

The ideas are his, mostly. 

And the pieces are interesting. “Intriguing,” your regular art gallery said, when you submitted the one of Mahito sprawled out in a fuzzy scarf and hat and puffy winter coat while sweat clung to his forehead from the summer afternoon sun.

Interesting, intriguing, a striking model… and yet. They’re still not enough--not enough to get paid. Not enough to get noticed. 

Not enough to get you out of bed some days, when all you want to do is smoke lying down and hope the smoke alarm in your bedroom still has low batteries. 

This is how Mahito finds you this morning. Half-resting on sore elbows while smoke wafts up to your  ceiling, imperceptibly adding to the layers of brown and yellow build up. 

“Hey.”

He pokes your nose. You blink, slowly turn your gaze towards him. Then close your eyes and let out another puff of smoke.

“You’re being mopey,” he says, flatly. Not teasing or whining, certainly not with sympathy. Just a matter-of-fact. 

The options weigh heavy on your shoulders. It’s not like you two don’t talk about serious things. But God, with Mahito, the roles are reversed between artist and muse. You’re the clingy one, the one desperate to keep him around; afraid that the wrong word or gesture might make him blip out of your life as quickly as he came into it.

Who were you, if you didn’t have Mahito? Just another failing artist who could barely afford their cigarette addiction. 

But you trust him. Because he’s here. Because he hasn’t left yet. Because when you’re drawing him and you ask him to lift his arm up, he somehow knows the exact angle you mean, every time. So you lick your lips and look up at him with tired, reddened eyes.

“They’re not enough.” A pause. “The paintings, I mean. No one will buy them.” You drop the rest of your cigarette in the ashtray on your night stand. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

You do know, though. Your paintings aren’t interesting enough anymore. What little buzz you’d generated in your first break onto the scene from your fantastical horror work had long since faded, as had your inspiration for such pieces. 

It wasn’t enough to play with color and light, to perfectly capture the sun through an opaque curtain playing on Mahito’s hair while black flies buzzed onto overripe fruit. Of course not. People wanted more. You just weren’t more, now. If you were ever that. 

Mahito crawls onto your bed, languid; it’s not the first time he’s been so close, so intimate, but it gives you goosebumps nonetheless. He curls himself behind your back and runs a finger down your arm. 

“They like your older work,” he muses. You’ve ranted about this, and he apparently listened, which makes you feel at least a little least sour. “So why don’t you paint like that again?”

So much for feeling a little less sour. You curl inwards, eyes fixated on the dimming red glow of your cigarette in its tray. 

Mahito pokes your shoulder. Impatience. You can feel it building in him, in the way his arm muscles tense, just a little. When he gets bored, he sometimes leaves. 

You don’t want him to leave, so you force the words out, although you’d rather keep them private. Your mouth feels sticky when you talk, but you press on. 

“My old stuff was before…” You know he knows, but you’ve never pinned down a single way to explain it to him. “Before I figured myself out. Before a lot of things, I guess.” Mahito’s hand wraps itself around your stomach, and you reach out to intertwine your fingers. To keep him with you, if such a thing were possible.

“I haven’t had the same type of inspiration in a long time,” you admit. “So I don’t know how to just…” Flashes of your old canvases come to mind. Demons and ghosts and landscapes of terrible beauty. “Get back into that head space.”

There is a stretch of silence that begins to worry you. Maybe you are too boring, maybe you’re whining, maybe whatever this is has run its course and he’ll leave and you’ll have nothing to your name but this empty apartment and your empty life.

But then Mahito grips your shoulder and pushes you firmly, swiftly, onto your back. There’s a dull ache where he touches you and you stare up into his eyes, wide and bright even in the darkness. He’s grinning. He’s grinning, and it’s beautiful and ugly--

And on his side, arms sprout out; some with mouths sporting their own grins. Behind him, arms upon arms,  hands upon hands. A grotesque vision come to life in your dim apartment bedroom. You can see it now, on canvas. A creature with greedy hands outstretched to the world, taking what it wants, when it wants. 

You can see Mahito, posting, while you furiously work at the easel. You know you’ll work until your hands cramp, desperate enough to capture every microexpression in pencil before it fades. 

Mahito, the muse, painted again and again. Until your hands cramp, until your eyes are red and burning. 

“Does this inspire you?” he says, a bright giddiness in his tone fading into something lower and warmer as he leans down to capture your lips.

You’re not certain which of you tastes the most of ashes.

--

The paintings are perfectly grotesque. Inspirational. Disturbing.

“And yet,” the director continues, tapping his pen against his chin, “so life-like. You can hardly tell where the real model ends and your imagination begins.” 

Because, of course, humans cannot sprout extra limbs from their sides. Humans cannot stretch their tongues to wrap around their body like a rope. Humans cannot pull open the flesh of their stomachs to reveal what’s inside.

Not without dying, anyway. 

You’d almost asked Mahito if that was what curses looked like on the inside--if they had organs, like stomachs and lungs--but thought better of it. Knowing would be worse than pretending. 

When you pretend, you can ignore the growing sickness in your stomach as the paintings become worse--and better. As Mahito pushes you farther and farther, and you’re not sure if you want to turn back. 

When you pretend, life with Mahito doesn’t seem very fucked up at all. 

“Keep it up,” the director tells you, thumbing through the wad of ghastly cash he hands over for your latest piece. It’s enough to pay off your rent and bills and cover cigarettes and booze and some new books for Mahito, though you’re sure he just steals them when he’s not with you. 

And you do--keep it up.

Because Mahito wants to, and because despite all the disturbing dreams you begin to have after sessions of drawing and painting, your new works really are better. More visceral and alive; galleries want them. 

They want you.

You feel seen, finally, for who you are and what your hands can do--

How could you turn that away?

--

“I don’t know,” you say, slowly, watching the thing Mahito brought with him writhe on the table. 

It was soft and gelatinous, like a blob of moving goo. At first, that’s what you thought it was: something he scooped out of a container at a toy store that sold novelty slimes. 

But this wasn’t some gob of bright orange or neon blue with a telltale sticky sheen that told parents that yes, mom and dad, this was going to wind up sticking to the carpet by the end of the day.

This was light beige, with two big black spots that looked a bit like eyes. It was larger than you think a toy slime would have been and it--well it moved. Really moved. Not just from a slight breeze drifting in through the window or due to its own gelatinous nature.

It was--whatever it was--alive. 

It had eyes, and perhaps that bit of discolored beige was hair, and that was it. Two eyes, slick, shiny skin, and no mouth at all. 

“It’s a statement piece,” Mahito says simply, even happily, as he adjusts the blob to his liking on the table. He tries out a series of poses that you direct with hesitation--looking down at it with his chin resting in his elbow, holding it in his arms like some sort of stuffed bear, endless, restless poses, all punctuated by the strange writhing of the thing.

The two of you finally settle for Mahito looking one way, and the blob--were those its eyes?--facing another. A contrast between colors and shapes and Mahito’s lithe form and the writhing blob. But while there is a dim satisfaction in putting Mahito onto the canvas, a sense of self-worth and pride that grows with every stroke, you put off working on the blob until the last possible minute. Your body seems to know why, even if your mind doesn’t. 

At the end of the night, you start to ask a question that’s been on your mind the entire evening--

“Mahito?” 

But when he turns, a small smile on his face, blob in hand, the words die in your throat.

You say nothing as he leaves. You work a little more on the painting, avoiding half the canvas, not wanting to think about what it was that Mahito brought and why he brought it.

That night, you dream about a garden of squirming, writhing blobs.

--

Today, Mahito has no mouth. 

And today, you’ve decided, that this will be your last Mahito piece. No more. Not a single one. The singular lack of a mouth is not even as horrific as some of the other ways Mahito has posed for you, but somehow, it’s the one that terrifies you the most. 

Mahito has no mouth, and you can’t even ask him why.

Mahito has no mouth--

Mahito has no mouth, and he wants you to paint him.

He tells you this, in gestures. Maybe if he was over the top about it--if he was wildly waving his hands, if he made a game of it--then it wouldn’t make you feel so wrong. But he’s slow, methodical. Serious.

It makes your stomach clench on nothing but whisky and overcooked eggs. 

But you let him bring out one of your mirrors and set it up in front of a stool so you can paint him, looking at himself in the glass. There’s nothing else you can do but this, you realize; that’s what your life has come to. You are mingling with a curse and he could kill you in a moment if he wanted to--but right now, he wants you to draw him and paint him and put something monumentally distressing on the canvas. And you want to do these things--because he wants you to? Because you know the gallery owner is going to take one look at this last piece and ask you to open your own show? Love or ego or something awful and in-between?

You sketch quickly. It’s the final layers of painting that will take days, you think, if you want this to turn out right. Right now you’re worried about two things: capturing the tones while the light is just right, and how Mahito will react when you tell him you’re done after this.

It’s not like you can tell him now. He can’t even talk. 

What is it like, without a mouth? You bring cigarettes to your lips and wonder if he feels jealous of it. Would he get mad, if you told him you needed a drink? A snack? Eating and drinking--curses can do these things, and you’ve seen Mahito do them, but you don’t know how much of it is a want or a need. It’s hard enough to tell the difference with a human. 

If you had no mouth, what would you be? Your thoughts flit, briefly and then away again, to the blob. To its eyes. To the way it couldn’t stop moving and Mahito held it like a toy. 

You don’t want to think about that. 

It would feel wrong to talk while you work on this piece, you decide. Better to save it for when it’s finished. A few days, at most, with Mahito holed up in your bedroom--and no mouth at all. 

In these few days, you want to kiss him more than ever. Want to capture the memory of his lips, because surely, he’ll want to leave if you’re done painting him. Done being entertaining. 

The thought of kissing the awful, empty space where his mouth should be keeps you from even thinking about it.

--

It’s your masterpiece. You know this from the moment the last stroke is complete. You’ll never top this work, and some prideful part of you demands that you try, anyway. 

Mahito still has no mouth. Even as you pull the drape off the canvas, as he gets close to inspect it. 

“Mahito,” you say, suddenly. He doesn’t look at you. That’s better, you think. Makes it easier to stomach what will come next; the inevitable moment where Mahito drops you like an old toy. Usually it’s the other way around, an artist getting bored of its muse and flinging them aside. 

But you’re not bored of Mahito. You’re afraid of him. You want him here--but you don’t. It’s a big jumbled mess and maybe it would have been easier if he never showed up on your back porch, if you never saw him at all, if he hadn’t opened up some wound inside you that only he can stitch up. 

“Mahito,” you repeat. “I don’t think I can paint you anymore.” Stupid, weasel words. You cringe. “I mean. I don’t want to paint you anymore--after this one.”

Mahito tilts his head, and finally turns his eyes towards you--but still, there’s no mouth, no mouth, no mouth.

After a moment, you continue, mouth dry and sticking. “Did you hear me, I said I--”

Mahito’s hand slaps against your own, hushing you.

“Have you been wondering what it feels like?” It takes a few blearly, confusing moments for you to realize that Mahito is talking not with lips on his face, but on the hand that’s pressed over yours. “To be unable to speak?”

The awful thought hits you. Is your mouth even still there, under Mahito’s hand? 

Mahito leans in, and pulls his hand away. Slowly, like he’s revealing a prize .

“I want to paint you now,” he murmurs. He might even be cooing, eyes alight at what he sees as he lifts his hand. 

You want to answer him--you want to scream.

But you can’t say a word. 

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can I please request a Jeremiah x reader smut where it’s both of their first times! Smut but also cute and fluffy! Thank you ♥️

This is my first time writing for Jeremiah, please be nice. While I like him in the show - I am not team Jeremiah though -, I find him difficult to write about, so idk if I'll keep him on my list...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When it comes to losing your virginity, you've always wanted to wait for the right moment to do it. Maybe it was watching rom-coms and reading hundreds of romances that implanted this vision in your mind, or maybe it was just you wanting to make that big moment perfect, knowing you could never re-do it if you jinxed it…or worse, regret it.

‘’I have not,’’ Belly confessed quietly, shaking her head. ‘’Cam and I went on our third date. It’s way too early.’’ She picked at a loose thread on her shorts, not exactly comfortable talking about sex but feeling comfortable enough to talk about it with you. ‘’Have you and Jere..?’’

‘’No,’’ you said, excluding the other things you and Jeremiah had done that weren’t full-on penetrative sex. ‘’But we are thinking about it.’’

Belly’s attention snapped up. ‘’Oh?’’

You nodded, a light flush tinted your cheeks.

‘’Are you nervous?’’

You nodded again.

So many things could go wrong even if you make sure everything is perfect. You also heard some girls say it hurt the first time and that they bled, which scared you a little.

Belly grabbed your hand, pulling you from your thoughts. ‘’I may not know anything about sex, but what I know is that it’s Jeremiah. He loves you. There’s nothing to be nervous about,’’ she assured you.

A few weeks later, the day finally came.

Your mom was out at her book club meeting and your dad was at the country club, leaving the house to yourself for a few hours. Taking advantage of their absence, you texted Jeremiah to come over…and to bring the condoms.

It was bold and definitely had him grinning on his couch at home before making up an excuse to ditch Steven at video games and shower and get ready for the big event.

While Jeremiah was getting ready, you did the same. You put on matching bra and underwear, gave your hair an extra brush and spritzed yourself with Jeremiah’s favorite perfume of yours, lit some candles for ambiance although it was burning hot outside. You made sure everything was perfect.

Except it wasn’t perfect. 

Right when Jeremiah unhooked your bra, his phone started blaring loudly and wouldn't stop. After the fifth ring, Jeremiah answered and left, needing to pick up his mother at the country club. He said he could come back after, but the moment was already ruined.

By some miracle, you were presented another perfect opportunity a few days later.

Susannah was out with Belly and Laurel for a debutante dress fitting, Conrad was at the beach surfing, and Steven was with Shayla.

You and Jeremiah were having a swim in his pool to cool down from the sun. Summer was beautiful, but the heat was too much sometimes. Thankfully, Jeremiah had a nice pool, which you loved to take advantage of. As always, playful splashing turned into kissing and soon enough, you were making out.

You moved things upstairs to Jeremiah’s room for more privacy, and also because didn’t want your first time to be in a pool or on the Fisher’ back porch. 

‘’Careful!’’ Jeremiah reminded as the two of you hurried upstairs, leaving water all over the floors despite being wrapped in a towel. ‘’The floors are slippery when we—’’ 

You caught his arm in time before he could slip and fall, sending the two of you in a fit of laughter. The fun was interrupted when he backed you against the wall and kissed you in the hallway. You melted against him and let your towel drop. 

Jeremiah brought you to his bed, not caring about the wet patched your wet baiting suits would leave behind. It's not like you were going to keep them on for very long. 

Hands were all over each other's body, exploring and grabbing while you were kissing with desire. You undid the ties of your bikini, chucking it on the floor, then moved to your bottoms. Your whole body was on fire under Jeremiah's touch — you needed it all off. 

You reached for Jeremiah's shorts, helping him out because it was harder to take off when wet...and horny, but that's when Steven decided to walk in like he owned the place, catching sight of Jeremiah's bare ass. 

For the rest of the summer, you weren't able to find a good moment. Jeremiah was either working at the country club's pool, or someone was home. You could have snuck to an empty bedroom at a party, but a stranger's bedroom was nothing romantic for a first time. 

You were starting to get impatient so, one night he was supposed to drive you home, you made him pull over and stop the car. It was dumb and had high risks of getting caught, but you didn't care. 

‘’Are you sure?'' Jeremiah asked, seeing you pull your dress over your head. ''We don’t have to if you don’t.’’

You shook your head, looking right into his beautiful blue eyes. ‘’You’re my best friend, Jere. I want it to be you. I want it to be now.’’ 

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz  @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart  @xyzstar  @graceberman3  @Heartsforneteyamsully  @aerangi  @hallecarey1

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight  @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777

[lanymme]

Falls to my knees , hiii so like... the requests.... would you be so kind as to consider Ushiwakamaru|Yoshitsune (and her wife Shizuka Gozen....) (she gets 1 dialogue in Heian-Kyo (Incredibly romantic line about wishing to follow Yoshitsune until the very end) and mentioned in Little Big Tengu)

Scenario... Ushi getting reminded of Shizuka and realizing how much she misses her...im basic i am starved

The idea of Ushi joining the "i miss my spouse" club and Tomoe being there is hilarious honestly. I am rambling

I am very sorry if this ask was too late </3

The monkey's paw curls.

Sure i can write that for you!

/\/\/\/\/\/\

It’s a quiet, clear night, the full moon shining brightly down on the trees, the courtyard, the roof of the mountaintop compound.

Sitting on that rooftop, one knee tucked up and the other dangling casually from the edge, foot swaying back and forth, a figure clad in a Japanese armor sits alone, drinking and looking out at the light of the city far below, long unbound hair fluttering slightly in a gentle breeze.

Behind them, a scattering of gold motes of light blows into shape and coalesce, as a woman dressed in similar armor stands behind them, posture straight and proper, sharing the same view.

“Ah, Lady Archer.” Her voice, normally energetic or cheerful, is subdued yet friendly. She turns, casual and unmannered, to smile thinly through the weight of emotion at her guest. “Please, come,” she says, offering the bottle and a small cup to her visitor. “Share a drink with me, and some familiar company in this foreign land.”

Archer ignores her offer, continuing to stare out into the city.

“…Lord Saber. I would kill you here, now, if our Masters were not allied.”

“Mm.” She nods, acknowledging the statement as true, if not important. “Such is the nature of the war we fight.”

Archer’s eyes narrow.

“…I will state the truth plainly, then. I would kill you if there were no war. Knowing you live, I would seek your death. Only duty now stays me from seeking vengeance for my Lord.”

Saber takes in a deep breath and lets it out in a sigh, staring out over the city.

“…Fair enough. I can’t apologize for anything I’ve done to serve my own Lord. But, if my Master permits, once our alliance is over, I will give you a proper fight to the death.”

The wind blows through the trees, rushing, cool. The tips of Saber’s hair blow in the breeze. She takes a sip, and studies the bottle of alcohol with casual interest.

Archer’s fists clench, the sound of friction audible like a creak of leather, before she lets her fair, callused hands relax.

“I am surprised to hear you’d take consideration for anyone other than the master you serve.”

Saber’s head bobs in positive appraisal. She continues to stare out into the night.

“My Master told me to convey to yours that he is to meet her in the shed tomorrow in the morning to discuss plans regarding Caster and Rider.”

Saber nods again. She stares into space for a moment, as she convey the message through the link.

Then, she takes another sip of alcohol, looking up at the moon.

Archer waits a few minutes longer.

Her eye twitches.

Just as she prepares to leave, Saber speaks again.

“It was a night like this, when I last saw my love.”

Archer regards her carefully.

Saber smiles, wistful, fond. “She liked to go for walks at night, and I would go with her, and stand close to keep her warm. Even on hot summer nights.”

For a moment longer, she looks out over the edge, features softened into a sad smile.

Then her face falls.

“But the last night I saw her… we didn’t have time for such happiness, such peace.”

She looks down, now, into the courtyard, at the earth.

“My retainers managed to convince me to run, when my brother decided to put me down. I gave it my best, really. But I knew he would catch up to me. And… I think she knew, as well.”

Archer stares at her, uncompromisingly.

“She wanted to stay with me, even so. I never… really understood people, or love. I don’t know what I did to deserve such loyalty. Or maybe that’s just how she was. But I appreciated it. I needed it. To know there was someone with me who would never move, never leave, even as I am… how I am. Who really cared.”

“If you really appreciated it,” Archer says, voice heavy, tinged with venom, “then why. Why did you send her away, before the end?”

Saber turns and looks at her. She smiles, faintly.

“Because I wanted her to live.”

Archer snaps.

“Selfish! You say you appreciated her loyalty, yet you would trample it for your own selfishness!”

“…Mm. It was selfish.”

Archer stalks toward Saber, where she sits balanced at the edge of the roof, “If her love, her loyalty truly meant so much to you, then why deny her the chance die alongside her Lord!” she demands, breathing hard, long-restrained anguish bleeding through into her fury.

Saber makes no move to respond, to back away or take a defensible position. She curls, hugging the knee tucked up against her chest, eyes cast down.

“Because… I always knew she would die for me, but I… I would always serve my liege, first. In the end, though, when my brother decided I should die… I thought, for once, I would like to return that devotion. To thank her, for always… for always supporting me. If I was to die… then I could still give her a life, to live on. I could do that for her, at the end.”

“I was never good at expressing my feelings. I knew enough, to know it would hurt her. But still… I wanted to do that for her.”

She takes a sip of alcohol, and smiles ruefully.

“I failed in the end, though. My brother captured her anyway. I was dead, by the time it happened, but…”

Archer stares at her, still breathing hard, glaring, body tense. But the earlier fire is gone from her eyes, and they instead search through old emotions.

“… We do not decide how fate will turn. It is the choices we make that speak for us.”

A moment later, she turns away.

She pauses.

“…Saber. The Master you serve…”

“Hmm?” Her face brightens visibly.

“…” Archer looks up, over the compound, fists balled at her sides. “…That person is not worthy of your devotion.”

She dissolves again into swirling gold motes of light, and they blow away in the gentle night breeze.

“… I wouldn’t know,” Saber says, to the empty rooftop. “I'm not the best judge of people. All I want… is the chance to faithfully serve, until the end.”

—

Cautiously, Tomoe Gozen enters the ruined compound, the remaining fires burning low. The building where she spoke with Saber on that night in the first days of the War is rubble, pulverized by the shock of Rider’s Noble Phantasm, and then cleaved in half.

Master— she begins, reporting out of habit.

Foolishness. Her gentle, composed Master is gone. She feels the loop of prayer beads at her side where they hang under her robes.

Rest easy. For my Master’s sake… I will see your wish granted. I will save them.

She is cursed, cursed to always be the survivor.

She’s too late to witness the conflict, but the state of the war has shifted dramatically. She picks her way through the buildings to see what she can still learn.

The night is darker, now, the moon waning. The courtyard is in ruins, stones broken and split, the lonely pear tree torn up from its roots. Great slashes are carved into the walls of the sturdy storage building that makes up its other side, and the wall has fallen over.

As she proceeds toward the center of the compound, she finds the headless body of Rider’s Master, lying flat on its back.

One of Caster’s siege defense machines has fallen from the rooftops, burnt almost completely, its bolt still loaded lying on the floor.

She tightens her grip on her self control as her oni blood flares, threatening to overtake her reason. She looks up to survey the surroundings

The other giant crossbows that line the remaining buildings are mostly intact. The one farthest back is split in half, jagged wooden remains stained by a heavy spray of blood.

But they are pointed into the heart of the compound, not at its surroundings.

A trail of blood leads her way deeper into the compound

A pit of dread fills her stomach. She worries at the prayer beads that keep her temporarily sustained with mana, her Master’s parting gift to her.

She materializes her sword with a lick of flames, and raises it in preparation before turning the highly defensible corner.

She finds the remains of the body Assassin was puppeting, leaking black ichor.

A few paces away, one of the giant crossbow bolts has buried itself into the earth. It’s stained red with blood.

The trail of blood thickens beyond it. There are bloody handprints, smears against the walls.

Tomoe Gozen narrows her eyes, and steels herself, and proceeds through the bounded field into the heart of the compound.

It’s burning. Ichor and bloodstains everywhere.

At the far side of the space, the largest crossbow is spattered with blood. Beneath it, the severed sleeve of Caster’s robe lies trampled on the ground. And beside that, a mangled figure.

Maintaining her alert, she makes her way quickly across the space.

Saber—Yoshitsune lies slumped against the building’s wall, still clutching her sword in her hands. Her skin is blistered, her long hair burnt away. Cuts and pierces litter her ruined armor. And a crossbow bolt the size of a wooden beam pins her against the building behind her.

So it’s true. Saber’s Master has taken Rider as his Servant.

The loyal general Minamoto no Yoshitsune has once again been betrayed and cut down by the lord she serves.

Tomoe Gozen feels no joy at the sight of her husband’s killer.

The lively, energetic Saber is almost inert, staring blankly up at the sky with dulled eyes. But as she approaches, she looks up at her in awe. Her sword falls from her fingers. Her bare, dry voice whispers.

“…Shizuka?” Tomoe’s heart drops.

She kneels by her foe, and takes her remaining hand in her own. Sightless, dull eyes cast toward her, feebly.

“… ah. My Shizuka. You’re safe. I’m glad… I’m glad.” She sighs, shuddering. “If you live… then all was not lost. I—“ she heaves a breath, and smiles. “can meet my death, without regret.”

Tomoe takes a ragged breath. Suddenly, her vision is full of tears.

—

“Lord Yoshinaka, I beg of you—“

“I have given you my command!” Her husband shouts, voice trembling with fervor. “Leave this battlefield! I will meet my death with Kanehira at my side!”

He looks at her, then, and feeling flashes over his face. Love. Sorrow. Pain. “I will not—“ his voice chokes, rough, raw. “—be shamed by dying together with a woman.”

She takes in a deep breath, trembling, spine straight, mastering her feelings. Then she bows stiffly.

“—As my Lord orders it.”

Before she turns away for the last time, filled to overflowing with mastered emotion, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes—

She sees something like peace come over her husband’s face.

—

She trembles, kneeling before Saber.

Her mortal foe takes in a slow, desperate breath.

“Ah, but Shizuka. Your Ushiwaka… has so rarely received an injury. It really… hurts, after all.” she laughs weakly, and then coughs, and trails off.

Tomoe draws in a deep breath, steadying herself.

“Lord Yoshitsune,” she says. “Allow me to ease your pain.”

“…thank you,” that haggard voice says, relieved. “Thank you.”

Saber slumps forward, presenting her bare neck.

Tomoe stands, and draws her sword.

“…forgive me!”

With one swing, she separates Yoshitsune’s head cleanly from her shoulders.

A moment later, in a shower of gold mana, the body of her great enemy, of her husband’s killer, dissolves and fades away into the smoke-filled night air.

Tomoe stands alone. She cleans, and sheathes her sword.

“Lord Yoshinaka,” she whispers. “Your wife has avenged you. And if it gave you peace, then I will proudly carry forever the shame and sorrow of surviving you.”

With one final lingering glance at the place where a crossbow bolt lies embedded in the wall, she leaves the place of death behind.

Her Master, still, remains to be avenged.

There are yet more ghosts for Tomoe Gozen to carry.

[reidfucker]

mitski songs that make me think of reid + a specific lyric

spencer reid is very mitski. but these were the first to come to mind. i do not take criticism.

- working for the knife

honestly, the entire song reminds me of reid, but this in particular:

I always thought the choice was mine

And I was right, but I just chose wrong

I start the day lying and end with the truth

That I'm dying for the knife

- liquid smooth

I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too

I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe

About to fall

How I feel this river rushing through my veins

With nowhere else to go, it circles 'round

- class of 2013

Mom, would you wash my back?

This once, and then we can forget

And I'll leave what I'm chasing

For the other girls to pursue

Mom, am I still young?

Can I dream for a few months more?

- i don't smoke

Just don't leave me alone

Wondering where you are

I am stronger than you give me

Credit for

If your hands need to break

More than trinkets in your room

You can lean on my arm

As you break my heart

- abbey

again, the entire song is very reid, but:

I am something

I have been something

I was born something

What could I be?

There is a light that I can see

But only, it seems, when there's darkness in me

There is a dream that I sometimes see

That only appears in the dark of sleep

- i bet on losing dogs

Will you let me, baby, lose

On losing dogs

I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place

By the ring

Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down

I wanna feel it

I bet on losing dogs

I always want you when I'm finally fine

- the deal

Then of course, nothing replied, nothing speaks to you in the night

And I walked my way home, there was no one in sight

Save a bird perched upon a streetlight, watchin' me

So, I stopped and let it watch 'til I found that it said

"Now I'm taken, the night has me

You won't hear me singin'

You're a cage without me

Your pain is eased, but you'll never be free for

Now I'm taken, the night has me"

- fireworks

this is perhaps one of the reid-est. here's the particular lyric:

One morning this sadness will fossilize

And I will forget how to cry

I'll keep going to work and you won't see a change

Save perhaps a slight gray in my eye

I will go jogging routinely

Calmly and rhythmically run

And when I find that a knife's sticking out of my side

I'll pull it out without questioning why

- i don't like my mind

again, the entire song is reid, but this is my pick:

I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room

With all its opinions about the things that I've done

So, yeah, I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone

And on an inconvenient Christmas, I eat a cake

- first love / late spring

very cliché, but i HAD to include it! here:

And I was so young when I behaved 25

Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child

And I don't wanna go home

Let me walk to the top of the big night sky

- there's nothing left for you

You could touch fire

You could fly

It was your right

It was your life

And then it passed

To someone new

It'll keep passin' on

Long after you

- nobody

And I don't want your pity

I just want somebody near me

Guess I'm a coward

I just want to feel alright

- because dreaming costs money, my dear

I once lived in the sea

Bring me to your ear, you can hear

The tide where I used to be

Though now I'm but a shell

- a pearl

Sorry, I don't want your touch

It's not that I don't want you

Sorry, I can't take your touch

It's just that I fell in love with a war

Nobody told me it ended

And it left a pearl in my head

And I roll it around every night

Just to watch it glow

Every night, baby, that's where I go

- real men

Real men keep cool in the face of a fire

Go down with the ship

And real men don't eat

'Cause they're above that, damn it

Oh, I'm gonna be a real man

- crack baby

It's been a long, hard 20 year summer vacation

Both these 20 years tryna fill the void

Crack baby, you don't know what you want

But you know that you had it once

And you know that you want it back

Crack baby, you don't know what you want

But you know that you're needing it

And you know that you need it bad

[nhlclover]

bakeoff sparks fly au

✭ — summary: despite being back home for the holidays, sofia can't stop thinking about rutger

✭ — warnings: manic baking, overthinking

✭ — a/n: sofia is going through it

✭ — word count: 0.88k

This was the first time since the summer that all three Fantilli kids were back in Toronto, all sleeping under the same roof. Michigan was now on winter break and the 4 day holiday freeze was in effect in the NHL. It didn’t take long for the three siblings to fall back into their regular habits, playing board games whenever they got the chance, as well as heading to the ODR and playing unregulated games of hockey.

“Sof, you up?” Sofia heard Adam’s voice come through the door.

Despite being almost noon, Sofia was not up, using the break as a way to catch up on her sleep schedule. She groaned loudly, pulling her comforter over her head. She heard the door click open and her bedding ripped off her bed, exposing her body to the cold air.

“Adam!” She whined, grasping for her comforter.

“Luca and I are going shopping wanna come?” Adam asked, holding the bedding out of her grasp.

“Are you guys not done Christmas shopping yet?” Sofia asks

“I am, but Luca forgot a gift for Dad.” Adam tells her.

Sofia rolls her eyes. “No, I’m gonna stay in and wrap some presents.”

Adam drops her bedding, allowing Sofia to wrap herself in her blankets. “Text me if you need anything.” He says, leaving her room.

Sofia attempts to fall back to sleep but finds herself completely awake. She forced herself out of bed and headed downstairs to get breakfast.

It didn’t take long before the thought of him was back. The entire time Sofia had been home, memories of Rutger haunted her. Random reminders of him would come to mind, summoning the memories of her rejection. Her hands would begin to sweat, her heart beating at an unusual pace.

Every time she thought of him, she was reminded of the rejection. Because it wasn’t just a rejection. Rutger, at the same time, rejected Sofia and made her feel small. Like she was her brother's annoying little sister. Sofia hated how much he was occupying her mind.

When Luca and Adam come through the front door, they’re met with the strong smell of vanilla and loud music. Pulling off their shoes, they venture to the kitchen only to be met with chaos.

There are various ingredients scattered on the counters, with dishes stacked in the sink. In the middle of everything is Sofia, her pinstripe apron that was once a gift from Luca and Adam is covered in flour, her hair thrown up into a claw clip. Zach Bryan is blaring through her phone while she’s whipping something in a bowl.

“Sof!” Adam calls to her, finally drawing her attention as she hadn’t noticed they’d come home.

“Hey!” She grins.

Suddenly there’s a timer going off, sending Sofia to the oven. She puts on a pair of oven mitts, removing a tray of cookies from the oven.

The pair of brothers exchange a slightly worried look. They recognize this behaviour but it seems misplaced. Sofia has a habit of baking when she’s stressed or anxious. She baked during her high school exams and just before Adam was drafted. When she stress bakes, she goes HAM. She bakes four or five different things, from muffins to cookies, and often a type of bread.

However, to Luca and Adam, she had no reason to be stressed. She was done with exams and had gotten her marks back indicating a successful semester.

“Sof, what are you doing?” Luca asked.

“Baking!” Sofia smiles. “I’ve got shortbread cookies baking in the oven, some gingerbread cookies that I’m letting cool before frosting— ooh! You guys can help decorate if you want! And then the dough for cinnamon rolls is rising in the fridge.”

Sofia resumes her task of cutting out gingerbread men figures, singing aloud to ‘Revival’.

“What’s wrong with her?” Adam asks Luca, keeping his voice low so that Sofia wouldn’t hear.

“I’m not sure… she was fine yesterday.” Luca tells him.

The boys take off their coats, heading up to Adam’s room to wrap presents and figure out what’s wrong with Sofia.

“I have nothing, she was fine when we came home, she hasn’t baked or even cooked until today.” Luca told Adam.

Adam shook his head. Something was wrong with his sister. “What about at school? Did something happen?” He asked.

Luca thought back to Halloween. “Well…”

“Well, what? What happened?” Adam pried.

“It was just…at a Halloween party, this dude was harassing her but nothing happened. Rutger intervened and fucking almost fought the guy for her,” Luca explained. “But that was way back in October, it couldn’t still be bothering her.”

“Listen, dude, if she keeps this up after I’m gone, you need to talk to her.” Adam tells him.

“She won’t tell me, why don’t you ask her now?” Luca asked.

“C’mon, man. We both know which one of us she goes to when she’s upset.” Adam says.

Sure, Adam and Sofia were twins and often found solace in the other, however, Sofia always found that her older brother always knew what to say. Luca was the one she turned to whenever she needed advice or guidance. Adam was right, out of the two of them Luca was more likely to get any answers out of Sofia.

[nicole-timey-wimey-stuff]

It still isn’t over!

Young Daryl Dixon x Fem Reader

Synopsis - A short story based on The Notebook,

I watched the film again recently and this idea came into my head! Daryl is in place of Noah and the reader in place of Allie. I haven’t specified the time period, but I haven’t added technology so you can place it whenever you want.

Warnings- Some Angst , love, fluff! All the fluff, reader is well off, Daryl is less privileged, talks of abuse, fem reader, falling in love, readers parents are controlling, cuss words, my terrible writing. Let me know if I have forgotten anything.

Word count - 3.7K

It was the last day of your senior year of high school, the beginning of the summer holidays mere hours away, this would be your last before you’d start college. The sky was crystal cerulean and there was a light breeze, although the Georgian sweltering heat was starting to seep in.

This afternoon you would be moving with your parents into your country summer home, a beautiful plantation your fathers family have owned for thirteen generations now. You’ve spent every summer there since you were born, and this one would be no exception. You yearn for it every year, a chance to get away from the bustling life of the city, to be able to relax, stick your feet in the cool lake and see all your summer friends again.

Your family was from old money, they owned the cotton plantation, where you’re spending your summer, which had always done well. Your father was a doctor and your mother had inherited a large amount from her father, who had invested heavily in businesses, ones your mother now runs. You were a part of country clubs, you never had to want for anything and you had a one way ticket to Harvard.

Life was good, today you would finish school with the highest grades, you’d have a wonderful summer in the country, before leaving for Harvard in the fall. Your life was foolproof, everything was all mapped out for you with a neat little bow and absolutely nothing could change that ………… could it?

Evening had hit by the time you reached the plantation, sunset had just passed and the sky was a wonderful array of purples and pinks. As your parents Bentley rolled to a stop you took in the house that would be your home for the next twelve weeks, oh how you’d missed this place. The main house was three stories high, there were six large pillars at the front of the house, a huge wrap around porch with a dainty staircase leading up to it. The grounds were breathtaking too, large trees, perfectly manicured lawns and gorgeous old barns.

As you exited the car your bags were already being taken into the house, your Butler Charlie informed your parents that dinner was ready waiting for you, “Miss y/l/n it’s so good to see you again, we’ve set you up in your old room, you let us know if there’s anything you need dear” Penny your main housekeeper announced. “Thank you Pen, I’ve really missed this place” you gushed. “Well you have a whole summer ahead of you here now, any plans?” She asks, “Yeah some, I am meeting my friends tomorrow for luncheon, and I have a few activity’s planned out for the upcoming weeks. I think we are all going to the fair tomorrow evening too, while it’s in town.” you answer.

“Well that sounds exciting” Penny exclaims, you give her a gentle nod and hum in agreement as you enter the house, “Well I’m going to get cleaned up for dinner, it’s great to see you again Pen” you admit “You too Miss”.

“It’s still just y/n” you laugh as you correct her.

You’d always been fond of her, she’d been with your family 16 years now. You were just a toddler when you first met. She had instantly taken to you, and you felt bonded to the women now, who felt more of a surrogate aunt than a house keeper.

________________________________________

You’d just arrived home from lunch out with your girlfriends, it was so lovely to see them all again and catch up but you’d forgotten how exhausting it can be too. They’d all had twenty questions for you,

‘Where are you going to college?’

‘Are you staying the whole summer?’

‘Are you seeing anyone?’,

As they fired them at you you’d done your best to answer them all, but now your social battery was on zero. You gathered a peaceful nap and a long bath would be needed before the fair this evening. Throwing yourself down on the plush mattress you closed your eyes, letting sleep take you.

After some much needed rest you were hastily getting ready for your evening out, pulling out various outfits that you deemed suitable for a fair. You deliberated for a while, changing several times and checking your reflection in the mirror. Can’t wear a skirt someone could possibly see up it during rides, jeans would be too casual to be seen out in (or so your parents would say). So you settled on an off the shoulder black top, tucked into some wide legged beige trousers. You gave yourself a natural makeup look, curled your hair, before pinning the side up slightly. There that would do, smart casual.

You raced down the impressive staircase, grabbing your purse and giving your parents a chaste kiss on their cheeks. “I’m off out with Kimberly, Samantha and Danielle to the fair mama” you announce. “Ok have fun, but don’t be out too late, Charlie will be up to let you in” she replied sternly, all while affectionately removing a strand of hair from you face. “Ok Mama” you nod.

Arriving at the vibrant fair you took in the bright colours and the ambient glow of the golden lights. The smell of hot sugar and salty popcorn filled the air, and there was a range of happy shrieks coming from rides. “Come on y/n! What do you want to do first?” Exclaims Kim excitedly. Before you can answer Samantha’s pulling you over to the bumper carts, “Let’s ride these! While our mother’s aren’t around to tell us how improper it is!” Samantha teased. Laughing you agree quickly, she’s right of course, you should all have as much fun as you could possibly muster, while parents aren’t around.

Off in your own little world of intense fun and laughter, you don’t notice a young man’s eyes on you watching you enjoy yourself, you’re throwing your head back in giggles with no care in the world. Daryl Dixon is watching you with a fond crooked smile, before turning to his best friend Callum. “Who’s tha? The pretty gurl with Kim’s group?” He asks his friend quizzically, Callum turns following Daryl’s line of sight “That’s y/n y/l/n, she’s here for the summer with her folks, they own the Alban plantation” he answers with a knowing smirk.

“Y/n?” Daryl repeats with a smile, “I’d like ta meet her” he trailed off, watching the young woman again. “I’d forget it if I were you man, she’s clearly off limits. Rich country club girl with snobby parents, who already have her whole life mapped out for her. She probably already knows who she’s marrying” Callum expressed. “Nah I’m still gonna meet her” Daryl argued before jumping the fence as the ride was coming to a stop, standing in front of your cart, he leans on it stopping the small vehicle from moving. You let out shocked gasp, your eyes shooting up to meet his. “What are you doin’!!” You exclaim, “Well I noticed ya here, and I thought I’d say hi” Daryl stated, cheeky twinkle in his eyes. You were baffled by the audacity of this boy!

“You thought you’d say hi?” You mimicked, Daryl nods enthusiastically “And you didn’t think that could wait until I got off the ride!” You ask confused, “Nah I couldn’ wait tha long” he drawls smile still evident.

“Oh you think your so smooth huh?” You question, brow quirked. “Nah not really, but I thought I’d take ma chance” Daryl explained trying to keep the fear of rejection hidden. “Huh” you ponder “You gonna let me out of the cart then?” You continue, holding his gaze sternly, he’s cute you take note, messy dark blonde hair and bright blue eyes. You’d probably of given him a second look if he hadn’t of annoyed you so evidently. He shakes his head no “Not until ya agree to go out with me” he requests,

“Go out with…… are you kidding me? No I will not go out with you, now let me out of the cart!” You exclaim.

“Wha can I do ta change ur mind?” He urged, you just look at him pointedly.

Looking around other people were filling the carts, your friends watching from behind the barriers, signalling the next turn was about to take place. “How abou’ I jus lay here in tha middle of the floor, anyone cud run me over” he adds, before laying himself flat on the rides floor. “No don’t do that! Get up!” You exclaim watching as carts start moving. Then you start to really panic! “Get up now!” You scream, Callum joins in now “Daryl you’ll get yourself killed! Get up man!”, “Nah not until she goes out with me!” Daryl states. Callum watched in shock, he doesn’t know what the hells got into his usually quiet, shy friend.

“Fine!!” You yell! “I’ll go out with you!” You answer, “Dun do me any favours” Daryl teases, “No I want to go out with you, I do!” You reply still in terror as carts edge closer to him,

“Sorry I cudnt’ quite hear ya?” Daryl mocks, “I want to go out with you!!” You shout.

He jumps up just before a cart crashes into him, huge grin on his face “Alrigh’ alrigh’ I’ll go out with you” he smirks offering you his hand to exit the cart. But you jump up and storm past him, incredibly frustrated with his antics. “I’ll pick ya up tomorrow at 2pm then?” He calls after you.

“That boy is THE most infuriating man I’ve ever met” you hissed. Your friends all nodded in agreement, until Kim piped up with “Although I’ve never seen him like that before, he’s usually very quiet even a little shy” she explains. You look at her in shock “Him! Shy??” You gasp, not believing her for a second, “It’s true, he works at the metal works with Callum, he usually keeps to himself” Samantha shared. You’re confused then, because that boy was anything but shy today. You turn to Kim with furrowed brows, “I don’t get it then” you ponder, “I think he likes you?” Samantha hums, “Yeah really likes you!” Danielle teases, “Who would have thought he had it in him” Kim giggles, as they all walk forward you turn to take a quick Look at him again, he’s shrugging while talking to Callum bashful smile on his face.

You try not to think too heavily on it tonight, your here to have fun with your friends, so that’s what you plan to do!

________________________________________

The next morning you roll out of bed late, sun high in the sky illuminating your room. Squinting you pull yourself up and into the shower, the steaming water washing away the smell of the fair and the lack of sleep. As the water cascades over your face you contemplate the events of last night, ‘Daryl’ the boy who almost flattened himself to get a date with you, no one had ever gone to such a length to spend time with you before.

Wait he wasn’t going to actually turn up at 2pm today was he? Oh god he might, if his insistence last night was anything to go by. What would your parents say, a strange boy coming to pick you up! No you’d have to tell them you were going out for a walk, then meet him outside the gates. No! Why are you going out of your way for this boy, you didn’t actually want the date, did you? God dammit you didn’t know, there was something about him, and like you thought no one had gone to those lengths before.

You rubbed your hands over your face in frustration, you’d have to go so he didn’t show up at your house, maybe he wouldn’t come? You can take a book outside the gates, read on the lawn while you wait for a bit.

That’s how you got here now, sitting just past the gates, blue tea dress pulled over your knees as you curl your feet under yourself. Nose buried soo deep in your book you didn’t hear the truck approach you, not until the horn sounds making you jump up in surprise, your eyes shoot up shocked clocking Daryl’s amused grin “Are you tryin’ to give me a heart attack! Jesus” you shout, “Sorry I jus couldn’t resist” Daryl laughs, you huff in annoyance “Asshole” you mutter under your breath, as you stand brushing yourself off.

You make your way over to what can only be described as a death truck, and hop into the passenger seat. “Will this thing actually make it down the road?” You grumble, “Well it’s survived this long, so I’d say we’re fine” Daryl replies amused tone still set in his voice, he’s watching you now smile on his face, teasing his bottom lip with his teeth trying to hide his grin. He really didn’t think you’d be here, he thought he’d come to your house and you’d feign ignorance, that you didn’t know him. But here you were sat outside waiting for him, in this cute blue dress gosh you looked beautiful, he thinks to himself.

Putting the truck into drive he sets off down the street, “So where are we going?” You ask, “It’s a surprise” he answered, looking at you with a small smile. “Ok, well am I dressed ok for this surprise?” You respond, “Yah, I’d say so… you look lovely by tha way” Daryl admits still smiling at you. “Umm thanks” you reply bashfully, turning to look out the window hoping his missed the way your cheeks flushed.

“So where abouts in town do you live?” You ask, wanting to get to know this mysterious boy a little more, “I live tha other side on tha outskirts, it’s a small house on tha edge of a farm, I live with ma uncle there, jus tha two of us” he answers. “Oh you live with your uncle?” You ask confused, “Yah my old man was an abusive asshole, ma uncle saw and took me in, n’ ma mum passed when I wer a kid…..he’s great tho ma uncle, been more of a dad to me than ma old man ever was.” he affirms, and your shocked he’s admitted so much to you when he barely knows you, but thankful at the same time, as it helps you build more of a picture of the person he is.

“I’m sorry to hear that, sounds like you’ve been through a lot.” You respond, feeling sad at the thought of someone going through so much. “It’s ok, things are much better now” Daryl admits, you give him a small nod and a comforting smile.

Daryl pulls the truck up into a field

“We’re here!” He announces.

“Where is here?” You ask,

He just grins at you “Don’t ask so many questions, come on, you’ll love it I promise ya” he assured you.

“Ok ok” you surrender, jumping out the truck.

Daryl walks you through the field too a small woodland, once you’ve passed a few rows of trees you come to a pretty lake. Golden reeds blow in the breeze at the waters edge, and there’s a scent of pine and fresh grass in the air.

At the right of the lake there’s a small wooden jutty, with a white boat tied against it. “Wow it’s beautiful here!” You gasp, he smiles at you proudly, he’s so relieved you like it, “It gets better” he replies.

He takes you over to the white row boat, helping you into the far side, before setting into the boat himself, untying the ropes he grabs the two paddles and sets off down the lake. You both weave in and out of trees that stand tall in the middle of the lake, green moss climbing up the bark. Eventually you reach a clearing filled with lily pads most of which are currently flowering, and above Spanish moss trees curved over the lake, the white floral leaves hanging over the water.

“Wow Daryl this is amazing, how did you find this place?” You ask astounded by the beauty, “I came across it one day last year while explorin’, I come here now ta think I guess.” He replies, nervously rubbing the back of this neck. “You bring people here often?” “Nah yer the first ever, so yer shud feel honoured” he laughs. “Well in that case I am honoured, thank you for bringing me here Daryl, I love it” you admit. He nods before responding with “It’s no big deal, I’m glad yer like it”.

The rest of the ‘Date’ went great too, he eventually brings you back on land for snacks and lemonade he’s brought with him. You both talk about everything and anything until the sun starts to set, which you watch together, admiring the sky changing from blue to orange to pinks and purples.

When he brings you home in time for dinner, he drops you back off at the gate, “Thanks again Daryl I had a lovely time” you admit, “Yer welcome, wud yer like to go out again sometime soon?” He asks nervously, “Yeah I’d love too!” You respond giving him a small peck on the cheek, “How about we meet in town tomorrow for a milkshake?” You voice, “Yah ok, 3pm good?” He asks, “Perfect, I’ll meet you outside the diner at 3”, “Ok, bye y/n” “Bye Daryl” and you walk back to the house with the biggest smile on your face.

Daryl bashfully watches you walk in, face warm as his hand gently presses to his cheek almost as if he can still feel your lips there. Maybe just maybe he has an actual chance to steal your heart.

________________________________________

The next morning you try to dodge your parents questions over breakfast, “Where were you yesterday?” Your mum enquires, “I was out with friends, I'm meeting them again today for milkshakes.” Looking at your watch you mention “Is that the time already, I really should go get ready”before jumping from your seat and rushing upstairs. You hoped your parents don’t find out who you were with, they wouldn’t like the idea of you meeting with a boy, let alone one with no ‘Prospects’ as they would say. You role your eyes to yourself and sigh at the thought, no they wouldn’t ever understand.

You decided on a swing skirt and a light jumper today, a little makeup and some cute black kitten heels. Once you were happy with your appearance you went to find Charlie, hoping to get a lift into town. “Hey Charlie I was hoping I could either take the car, or someone could give me a lift to the diner? I’m meeting friends there.” You ask politely.

“Of course miss y/l/n I was heading to town to collect some wines, so I’ll take you myself” he responds. “Thank you Charlie”.

Arriving at the diner you spot Daryl already seated, you give him a grin as you approach him, “You're here early?” You mention, “Yeah well I had nothin’ much ta do today” he replies “Ya look lovely as always” he adds admiring you, “Thanks” you mumble bashfully, eyes focusing on your shoes to hide the blush that must be flooding your cheeks.

You spend the afternoon laughing so much your eyes water, he’s great company. Milkshakes long forgotten as he explains animatedly, how his friend Callum fell off his bike face first in front of the girl he likes. His eyes shining with amusement as he retells the story, and all you can think is how fond your growing of this boy, and you never thought that would be the case.

Walking down the street that evening you gaze up at the stars, “It’s a beautiful clear night” you mention, he gazes up “Yeah” he agrees “Beautiful” but you don’t realise his gaze has now fallen on you. “Do ya want to dance?” He asks hand outstretched towards you, “But there’s no music?” You question, “Dun need no music” he offers taking your hand and spinning you inwards to him, giggling you allow him to lead you into a lovely albeit clumsy dance, right there in the middle of the road.

You rest your head on his chest, taking in his woodsy scent. As you look up at him he slowly moves a piece of hair from your face, before gently cupping your cheek. He bites his bottom lip almost as if he’s contemplating something, which he was, he was wondering if it would be too soon to kiss you. Lord knows he’s wants too, has ever since he first glanced your way that night at the fair.

A loud honk of a horn spoils the moment and splits you apart, in a frenzy to get out of the trucks way you jump up the curb, both roaring with laughter! “That was so close!” You giggle, “Yeah, nearly had us” Daryl affirms still laughing himself.

Once you’d both calmed down you grinned at him “So same time tomorrow?” You offer, “Yeah sure” he agrees. You take his hand in yours as you begin walking down the street, smiles still on your faces.

After that night everything moves forward at such a fast pace, that you could get whiplash, you begin spending every single day together.

You meet him from work throwing yourself into his arms, pulling him in for a passionate kisses, while Callum and the rest of his work friends smile at you both. You go swimming together, driving the windy country roads together, your feet on his dash while his hand rests on your thigh, he brings you over to meet his uncle, who invites you over for dinner and Daryl is made up when the two of you get on so well.

And after four short weeks the inevitable happens, you both fall in love.

________________________________________

[husbandograveyard]

It's the thought - Izo x Reader

Look, I know I am supposed to be writing Spooktober things now, but I couldn't really let this pass without at least a little writing. So without any further ado, enjoy a little celebratory blurb for the one true love of my life, Izo! 2nd person. GN reader. Modern AU

It was a beautiful fall day: the leaves on the trees had been turning all shades of crimson, orange and yellow, and the temperatures had lowered from the scorching summer heat to something more pleasant, without being actually cold. Fall had officially started, and you were absolutely enjoying the atmosphere. 

You were home alone for now, making use of the time you had to yourself to warm up the oven and get to baking. For fall, pumpkin spice everything seemed like the obvious choice- but not today. Today you had an entirely different mission: bake your boyfriend a cake. You had found a recipe online that was beginner-friendly yet ambitious: two layers and a cream frosting, soft pink details and strawberries. They were out of season now, but you knew how much Izo loved them, and you wouldn’t spare any effort for his birthday. 

You’d been a little sad to be hearing he’d still be working today, as you had hoped he’d maybe take the day off for his birthday, but he’s never made a big deal out of it. 

“When you’re my age, y/n, it truly doesn’t matter much anymore. It’s just another day. But, if you’d like, we can go out to dinner, the two of us?”

You had -of course- agreed, but since you were home anyway, you had decided that you wanted to surprise him as well. After all, he made such an effort of surprising and pampering you throughout the year, with little thoughtful gifts, flowers to make your house an even more beautiful place, takeout of your favorite meals whenever you were too tired to cook… 

So you had gone out, purchased all the ingredients for a cake (and some more, just in case something went wrong), his favorite flowers, and put those in a vase on the table. You had made a card with a handwritten love letter earlier, and had now put it next to the vase and a little box that was neatly wrapped with a rose gold paper. Inside was a watch you had seen him eye a couple times before, but never purchasing it, because he felt like it was too expensive for a watch, especially since he still had one that was working perfectly fine still. 

The oven signaled that it was done preheating, and you practically jumped from the sound, already confused how time was flying by so fast; you had barely set the table with gifts and hadn’t even started measuring and weighing the ingredients. You let the oven sit like that for now and got to quickly prepping the ingredients. Once preparations were over, it didn’t take too long for you to actually do the recipe. You made sure to follow the recipe to the letter, knowing that baking was more of a precision job than cooking usually was. 

When the cake was finally in the oven, you cleaned up the counter and prepared the frosting. After that, you let the cake cool down on the counter while you tidied up the house. You opened up a window to let the room air out, and went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for your dinner date already. That way you could focus on cake decorating until Izo got home, and leave for the restaurant whenever he was ready, You didn’t want him to have to wait for you. 

You put on your favorite music while washing up, loudly singing along and already imagining what the evening was going to be like. You were getting excited when- 

You heard some noises downstairs, and even though the shower was running hot, you suddenly got cold shivers. 

You then heard some yelling, and were ready to panic until you recognized the voice. 

“Izo?” you walked downstairs carefully, nothing but a towel wrapped around your frame, still dripping wet, being careful not to slip. 

“Y/n?” You sighed in relief when you realized it was in fact Izo who had come home much earlier than anticipated. Your relief was short lived when you realized your surprise was a little ruined now, and then replaced by worry when you saw his face, confused and not at all the way you had expected him to look when he saw what you were preparing. 

“What was that sound?” You walked up to him, giving him a brief kiss, whispering a happy birthday against his lips. “Well… I will assume you were preparing a surprise for me?” You nodded, and he chuckled. “Did you by any chance leave food out and a window open?” You closed your eyes, cursing as you realized what had probably happened. “I think the neighborhood cat was just as surprised as you were to find me home early.” You walked into the kitchen with him, only to find little pawprints in frosting all over, and the cake that was cooling down ruined with tooth marks and paw- and clawprints and more frosting smeared all over. At the very least it looked like the creature hadn’t ingested too much, so you were sure it would be fine. You looked over at the table, relieved to see that at least your gift setup wasn’t bothered by the cake thief either. 

Still, your relief was replaced with sadness, as you did put in all the effort. You felt your bottom lip tremble as you took in the view, only to be pulled out of your thoughts by a strong arm around your waist. Izo pulled you into his side, chuckling softly. 

“I wanted to surprise you. You seemed a little deflated that I didn’t want to celebrate beyond going out for dinner, so I wanted to see if we could maybe have a fun afternoon. I got off a little early, only to see that you were preparing something as well” 

You nodded.

“It was going to be a strawberry cake, your favorite” “Does that mean you have fresh strawberries in the fridge?” You didn’t see it, but you could hear the smile in his voice. “Yes”, you smiled as well. “And you got my favorite flowers,” he said, walking up to the table, taking you along with him with one arm still wrapped around your waist, the other softly touching the flowers, studying the arrangement. You looked at his face, admiring him instead of the flowers. 

“Thank you.”

He turned to you before even opening the card or the present, and you smiled, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed about the whole situation: the failed surprise, the mess that the kitchen was, the fact that you were not ready, standing there shivering in your towel. 

“You’re welcome, I wish it was mo-”

He shushed you with another kiss, effectively taking away most of your worries and otherwise negative feelings. He had that effect on you, immediately making you feel better with nothing but a loving gesture. "It's perfect” 

You had no choice but to replace your frown with a smile as well. 

“let me get dressed then, and then… we’ll celebrate”  "And maybe clean up a little as well"

[distant-screaming]

GMM2025 Lineup Game

Rules: write your thoughts on all the gmmtv series pilots released today (or just the ones you plan to watch) and tag any 3 (or more! or less!) ppl whose thoughts you wanna know about!

thank you for the tag @bubbalakebrome!! I actually was writing out my thoughts for @ranchthoughts and thought this was the perfect opportunity to put em up in public too! I'm very fried from exam stuff so if these are poorly worded please forgive me <3

'dee,' you may ask, 'which of these shows are you going to watch?' no idea. I watch stuff after it's done airing, and I'm not sure how much time I'll have next year. still, if I have a positive impression of a show I'm very likely to watch it, so take that as you will!

Dare You to Death - joongdunk: it's....crowded? there's a lot going on, and it feels kind of like they mashed together two separate ideas they had for shows? but I love shows with guns because I get to kill people in my fics so LMAO!! also joongdunk are cool

Head 2 Head - seakeen and surfjava: deeply ambivalent to the actors and I've never seen them before, the plotline seems fine enough but not really my kind of thing? kind of a weird enemies to lovers I think

Burnout Syndrome - offgun + gundew(?): fascinating stuff happening here!! however. unfortunately. I don't really care. offgun are not my thing and the plot doesn't really intrigue me, it just feels dark and edgy in a way that's not my style. gun in black lipstick was something though!!

I Love A Lot of You: LIKE… OKAY GUYS… CAN WE LEAVE THE ABLEISM?? anyway. het show so I wasn't really paying attention, also has kind of split personality disorder but I'm not sure how well gmm will handle it based on their track record? anyway nanon's in it but shrug

Whale Store XOXO - milklove and junemewnich: .........shrug? sorry yuri fans I'm very ambivalent to this one, it feels like fluff the way 23.5 was fluff? not a high school gl at least! I might end up watching this, but I'm not on the edge of my seat for it

Only Friends season 2 - earthmix, ohmleng and jossgawin: INSANE. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this one because (glances at season 1)......theatre kids only friends is incredibly funny though

That Summer - winnysatang, mondryu and neomint: WINNYSATANG MAINS YAY!!! the more amnesia, but it looks interestingly done at least, and it's a jojo show and I trust him. tang being a prince is... this drama has the space to either become overdramatic fanfic or really really good and I'm desperately hoping for the latter. tang's chara is an amnesiac prince. I get to write ballroom dancing scenes. I win. mond kisses a guy which is awesome, neomint is a thing and I am deeply ambivalent to mint

My Romance Scammer - juniormark, ohmfluke: this one's concept is deeply funny to me, but the execution could vary! lowkey the energy it's giving is mame show if mame was not obsessed with blurring consent? trashy fun watch energy. also, ohmfluke doing this one is great because their most well known show is like Heavy and Serious and this one is 'I marry this guy as a gay marriage scam and fall in love'. incredible no notes. also can the actors start naming themselves fluke1, fluke2, ohm1, ohm2

Melody of Secrets - forcebook: YES. YESSSS. THIS ONE'S FOR ME. LITERALLY FOR ME. CLASSICAL MUSIC, HORROR ESQUE PLOT, SEMI MURDER, ESTABLISHED GAY PEOPLE, MAYBE MISTAKEN IDENTITY? INCREDIBLE NO NOTES. also forcebook are like, solid actors for me so yay no issues there! I want my blorbos in incredible angst STAT

Love You Teacher - perthsanta: age regression. also perth's character is just a dick to kids for no discernable reason. amnesia. age regression????

Mu-Te-Luv - multiple pairings (seven I think?) gay ones are ohmleng and seakeen: I'm usually pretty chill with anthology style shows, they're fun enough! jamie's in this one and AHEM CLEARS THROAT I LOVE JAMIE JUTAPICH!!! so. the chances of me watching this are low simply because of my backlog, but it looks interesting enough! also there's ladyboy (I hope that's the right term) characters, and I don't know how good the representation is gonna be but it's there! neo is one of them (??)

Cat for Cash - firstkhao: this is just firstkhao get paid to flirt and play with cats the series, and honestly good for them!! a little supernatural element ie first can hear cats' thoughts, which I'm curious where that will go? but overall very low stakes show, seems like the kind of thing I'd binge in a day. firstkhao are fun. I hope people are capable of being normal about a low stakes show heart emoji. I personally think it's a chill watch but I'm not bouncing off walls excited. first is handsome though

Girl Rules - namtanfilm, milklove, viewmin: high heat messy drama shows I prefer to watch in gifs and skipped around eps, but we love messy lesbian representation always!! view plays a straight (soon to figure out she's not so straight) girl which I think is kind of funny. I hope they make out a lot

Boys in Love - papangpodd, lukemick, astonchokun: hello there, obligatory gmmtv high school show! I'm pretty happy with this one, because the actors are all actually young I'm pretty sure and they're all new so it's a nice start for them, very classic. I don't know any of them. papangpodd are there, and as soon as papang appeared I started crying loud and violent tears because I am deeply and unambiguously in love with him. I hope he commits hr violations on school grounds

My Magic Prophecy - jimmysea, teefranc: it's a doctor x psychic, and it feels like a vice versa but not really. the trailer was kind of boring in the sense of composition and scene choices and such. forced proximity trope, which I sometimes do not really like so this one is on thin ice. no idea who the side pairing are yay

A Dog and A Plane - taynew, marcpoon: banger cast!! I haven't seen taynew in anything yet I don't think? but I've heard good things? marc is my beloved, of course. the plot is incredibly interesting at first look, though the cheating thread kind of bothers me? whether it will win out over my enjoyment of the rest of the trailer is yet to be decided. judgement's still out on this one

Me and Thee - pondphuwin, perthsanta: overdramatic spoiled rich kid pond who is obsessed with lakorns x photographer phuwin. incredibly hilarious dynamic. I enjoy pondphuwin, and I enjoy rich kids who grow. seems interesting for sure

Wu - skynani (bl or bromance? unclear): they really looked at the skynani popularity, said bet filmed one (1) scene and stuck it in the lineup. good for them! I hope they kiss! there's golden thread of fate involved, which is fun. I don't want to watch if it's bromance though, my backlog yearns to be freed as is

Ticket to Heaven: RELIGIOUS TRAUMA AND INTERNALIZED HOMOPHOBIA CATHOLIC EDITION THE SHOW????? FROM G4???? WILD STUFF. WIIIILD. I'm very excited for this one, it seems there's heavy topics so hopefully they're dealt with well. g4 will slay I know already. religious imagery goes hard in fanfic if literally nothing else. I will probably cry with this one. I will still watch it. I was also informed that gem went to a catholic high school. fun!

Tagging: @winnysatang @jojotichakorn @lamonnaie @pondphuwin @jjsanguine @cornflowershade! apologies if any of you have been tagged before <3

[xoxoavenger]

Drunk Under a Streetlight

pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

summary: But I knew you/Dancin' in your Levi's/Drunk under a streetlight, I/I knew you/Hand under my sweatshirt/Baby, kiss it better, I/And when I felt like I was an old cardigan/Under someone's bed/You put me on and said I was your favorite

word count: 961

warnings: drinking

cardigan masterlist main masterlist

That night, they get absolutely wasted. It's mostly because JJ knows Y/N wants to be able to forget about what her parents have done to her, to numb the hurt of their betrayal, but instead of depressingly getting drunk alone at the Chateau, they go to Charleston, just the two of them. They take the ferry and walk to one of the bars, laughing and reminiscing about how they used to come with their fake IDs, finding the places that didn't card and taking everyone and going crazy on weekends. Sometimes they would fall asleep in a park, waking up to officers telling them to leave, but sometimes they would rent a hotel room and continue drinking until morning.

"Maybe you should slow down." JJ says when she nearly falls of a chair finishing her drink. He's laughing though, and when she leans against him he knows it's time to pay the tab and find a hotel room. He doesn't think they'll continue drinking, not this time, but Y/N's had a rough day and he wants her to have the comfort of a bed tonight.

But it's too late in the night, and without them knowing everyone else has left and they're being kicked out of the bar. They stumble away, laughing and leaning on each other. JJ has halfway forgotten about his plan to get a room when Y/N runs ahead. 

"I have a song stuck in my head!" Y/N yells, one hand around the lamppost as she twirls to the music in her head.

"Oh! Oh! Let me guess!" JJ screams, grabbing her hands and spinning her around. It's two AM, but they are near a park, houses far enough away that they won't hear the couple's screaming.

"It's Taylor Swift!" She tells him, causing him to gasp dramatically and drop her hands, swaying away.

"I wanted to guess!" He wines, causing her to laugh.

"She has like, a million songs! I wanted to make it easier for you!" She laughs, falling to the grass on the other side of the sidewalk.

"I'm about to read your mind." JJ says, the street light making his light hair practically reflective and his eyes the brightest shade. Y/N is about to doubt him, tease that there is no way he could know that, when he stars singing. "I like shiny, yeah, but somethin' paper rings, uh huh you're the one I want!" He calls, and she can only laugh as he hums and dances, a splash on his jeans illuminated as it catches the light. She can't remember how it got there, but she smiles all the same.

"How did you guess?" She asks, letting him pull her up to her feet, the two of them singing out of tune and the wrong words as they twirled around, kissing in between words.

The truth is, she actually had Getaway Car stuck in her head. But it was cute that JJ started singing Paper Rings, or at least trying his best. They get halfway through Lover, which is easier to sing, before they collapse on the ground and fall asleep in each other's arms.

This time, they wake up abruptly not to a police officer but the sprinklers. They scream and stumble away, noticing that they've only been asleep for a short period of time; the sun had barely risen and the air was still cool, despite the summer. The couple grumble and take the first ferry home, sitting close to each other. Y/N was wearing JJ's sweatshirt that he had shoved in a small backpack that had shielded it from being wet.

As their headaches settled in, all Y/N could think about was her previous night. She left home. And sure, she hadn't been sleeping there for a while, but her parents hadn't actually kicked her out. All she could think of is that her mother didn't care, just yelled at her as she left.

"Baby," JJ was wiping her tears before she even knew that she was crying. She looked up, letting him put his arms around her.

"I'm sorry," She was glad that in the morning the ferry was only full from the OBX to the mainland, plenty of people going to work there. Not as much so vice versa. "I was just thinking about how my mother didn't even care that I was leaving. She only wanted to save face, that's why she didn't kick me out sooner." JJ's hand went to her waist, under her sweatshirt to rub circles on her skin.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. It's your parent's fault. I don't know why they wouldn't like someone like you." He comforts, pressing kisses to her cheeks and then one to her lips, even though their breath was sour.

"Probably because I was a terrible daughter." Y/N frowns. Maybe, if she hadn't pulled so many stunts, if she had tried a little harder, then her parents would have cared.

"Hey," How JJ knew what to say Y/N had no idea, because JJ never had the best parents either. "Parents are supposed to love unconditionally. They were like this before you started acting out. It's the same with my dad." He kisses her forehead and pulls her closer, hands caressing her skin. It's almost like he read her mind.

"Your dad is worse by a mile." She tells him, because it's true. But they both smile, if only because they don't have to deal with Luke anymore, and Y/N can't help but feel the love she has for JJ blossom in her heart. Her mother made her feel useless, weak, but JJ? JJ made her feel needed. She was important to him, and the fact that he made sure to tell her made her fall even more in love.

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler

[cecilebutcher]

ღLaufey songs I associate with twst boysღ

I’m back on my musical bullshit😎 just so we’re clear, this has zero thoughts, behind it o7 Enjoy!!

!!Don’t like,it does nothing. Reblog instesd!!

Characters: Every nrc student + some oc’s

Riddle Rosehearts: like the movies

“Maybe I'm just old fashioned. Read too many fairytales. It's no wonder I've had no luck, no one's ever good enough. I want a love like I've seen in the movies.That's why I'll never fall in love”

Trey Clover: I wish you love

“And in July a lemonade. To cool you in some leafy glade. I wish you health. And more than wealth. My breaking heart and I agree. That you and I could never be. So with my best, my very best. I set you free”

Cater Diamond: someone new

“I have to get off Instagram. I keep on going back. Looking at our memories. I know that you will soon delete. We turn to strangers in a day. Now you walk away. Every time I catch your eye. When did you become so shy?”

Ace Trappola: Best friend

“I have never tolerated someone for so long. I've never laughed so much. I haven't written a sad song. There's no one else I'd rather fall asleep with. And dream with. You're my best friend in the world”

Deuce Spade: just like Chet

“Why did you put me through. 11 months of "you're so pretty's, " "I miss you's"? It's absurd what even occurred between autumn and spring. If you never loved me. In a perfect world. I wouldn't have met you that night. Would've stayed with my friends. And just danced 'til the morning light”

Leona Kingscholar: Valentine

“I've rejected affection. For years and years. Now I have it, and damn it. It's kind of weird. He tells me I'm pretty. Don't know how to respond. I tell him that he's pretty too. Can I say that? Don't have a clue”

Ruggie Bucchie: Promise

“It hurts to be something. It's worse to be nothing with you. I've done the math. There's no solution. We'll never last. Why can't I let go of this?”

Jack Howl: lucky for me

“When the sun goes away in the autumn. And the leaves trickle down from the trees. The heat of the summer's forgotten. You'll be here, so lucky for me. You don't tell me to shut up. Even when I talk too much you smile at me. Say, "Don't worry"”

Azul Ashengrotto: From the start

“Oh, the burning pain. Listening to you harp on 'bout some new soulmate. "She's so perfect, " blah, blah, blah. Oh, how I wish you'll wake up one day. Run to me, confess your love, at least just let me say”

Jade Leech: above the Chinese restaurant

“Street sounds blistered with neon lights. Heard the neighbors snoring every other night. Eating dumplings from next door. Finish 'em up they'd give us some more. Didn't realize we had it all. Even when the roof came caving in that fall. Oh, I loved you more than you know. Covered in the flakes of crystal white snow”

Floyd Leech: dancing with you tonight

“Silly boy, don't talk to me. I don't have the energy. Please don't ask to dance with me tonight. I do better on my own (on my own). I don't mean to come off cold (come off cold). But my dear, I'm all danced out tonight. Now the gin is hitting me. And it's almost half-past three. Am I crazy or seeing things? I'm sorry if I can't go for another swing”

Kalim Al-Asim: Magnolia

“A word from her lips, her sirens kiss. Will send you straight into abyss. Magnolia, I wish she'd give her secrets away. Enchants everyone and I think it'd be fun. To be like her someday. But I cannot compete with her. Perfection is the only word. I think of when I think of Magnolia. She doesn't know that the world is turning just for her”

Jamil Viper: Street by Street

“Step by step, brick by brick. I'm reclaiming what's mine. This city is way too small. To give away to just one guy. Street by street, breath by breath. From the Back Bay to the sky. I'm taking back my city. I'm Taking back my life. The cafe Where you asked me for my name. The bookstore we spent Five hours hiding from the rain”

Vil Shoenheit: beautiful stranger

“What if I would've stayed on the train? Dared to stand up and ask for his name. Maybe we would have exchanged a few words. A fairytale moment could have occurred. But my beautiful stranger will have to remain. A stranger until I see him again. See him again. Hmm, mmh.”

Rook Hunt: fragile

“The soft candle glow. The music so slow. Your skin on my skin. The room is spinning. Nerve in my bone. I'm shaking oh no. I'm talking though I shouldn't be. I've lost all sensibility. I've never been so fragile”

Epel Felmier: falling behind

“'Cause the sun's engaged to the sky. And my best friend's found a new guy. I'm only getting older. I've never had a shoulder to cry on. Someone to call mine. Everybody's falling in love and I'm falling behind”

Idia Shroud:this is how it feels(ft. D4vd)

“This is how it feels. To fall in love with you. To always think of you. To always dream of you. Yes, it hurts so much. To fall in love with you. So if this is how it feels. Tell me if our love is real. There's some type of strange appeal. To the way it was so effortless, uh. I cannot help it”

Malleus Draconia: Bewitched

“You bewitched me. From the first time that you kissed me. Waited all night. Then we ran down the street in the late London light. The world froze around us, you kissed me good night. You bewitch me. Every damn second you're with me. I try to think straight. But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart. You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart. And bewitched me. Bewitched”

Lilia Vanrouge: night light

“Cardboard boxes covеring the floor. Guess I won't be living in here anymore. Take down the posters of the pop stars on the wall. Empty room, it looks so small. All of the laughter. All the sleepless nights. Waiting for ever after. Snow falling outside, keeping on the night light”

Silver (Vanrouge): let you break my heart again

“One day, I will stop falling in love with you. Some day, someone will like me like I like you. Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend that we are more than friends. Then of course I'll let you break my heart again. Some day, one day. I will stop falling in love with you. Until I do. I'll be thinking of you. Let you break my heart again”

Sebek Zigvolt: dear soulmate

“Dear soulmate. Do you think of me? 'Cause I do. Do you have green eyes or are they brown like mine? Do you have a sister too? Dear soulmate. One day I'll give this song you. We will drive up to the mountains? Camp in a little tent? When the bears come at night. Will you put up a fight? Or will you hide with me in my flashlight?”

Ibhana “Vesper” Baske: questions for the universe

“Falling in love feels more like crashing. Stars spin around my head. So I'm asking. Will my worries ever melt away? Mm. Run out of sentences to say. Wish that I could put this into better words. Will I ever fall in love or will I always search?”

Tao Yúchi: second best

“I'll never forget how stupid in love I felt. I'll always regret how I couldn't ever tell. That you walked a little faster, left me behind. Kissed me with somebody else in mind. I loved you so much. That I settled for less. Oh, you were my everything. I was your second best.”

Igor Kazentoc: serendipity

“I won't pretend I've been anxious. Just like I've always been. This time it's sticking. And time just stops ticking. When I have my arms around you. Four-leaf clovers and lucky dimes. Coincidences and cosmic signs. Have proved that I am quite naive. I'm falling fast, filling gravity. And all that I see is serendipity”

Junto Shuisha: everything I know about love

“I wouldn't mind (ahh). I heard that falling fast is so divine. Are these songs just telling plain old lies? 'Cause that's everything I know about love (ooh, ooh). Everything I know about love (ooh, ooh). I don't know that much at all. I trip, I fall. Every time I try, it's all too much. That's everything I know about love”

Jasper Spade: slow down

“I wish it would slow down. Even for a second. I'm so old now. Left my adolescence. Going out to parties. And getting way too drunk. Think I found somebody. But don't think that it's love. I wish it would slow down. Slow down. Mhm, mhm. ”

Aikat Spanos: I’ve never been in love before

“I've never been in love before. I thought my heart was safe. I thought I knew the score. But this is why. It's all too strange and strong. I'm full of foolish song, and out my song must pour. So please forgive this helpless haze I'm in. I've really never been in love before”

Phobes Spanos: what love will do to you

“Lately, I've been in a haze. Running late, can't think straight. The world feels smaller, yet the trees look taller. There's enchantment in the air. I know I sound stupid, I do. That's what love will do to you. Read my favorite book. For the hundredth time. At least I know of how it ends. In real life it just all depends”

Yes I know I placed valentine for my baby boy Sebek in the last post, but it fits Leona this time ok?

Anywho hope ya’ll enjoyed this as much as I had fun writing this:D

Finally back to posting shit!! I have had this in my drafts for ages

!!requests are open!!

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don’t like, reblog.

[shelby-fangirl00]

1919-Part Eight

So this took waaaaay too long to finish! I've been crazy busy with my summer internship so I have little free time right now. Let me know what you guys think of this one!

Warnings: Language, smuuuuuut (18+, MINORS DNI)

Word Count: 3131

‘What’s it like…leaving home for the first time?’ I asked softly, nuzzling my face into his neck. Our warm bodies sank together in his bed as the sun began to rise, shining on our skin. 

His eyes found their way to mine, sharply raising a brow. My smile softened as I stroked the tips of my fingers against his tight stomach.

His chest rose high and caved in such a way that warmed my insides. Resting his head on his shoulder, his fingers grazed up and down my spine. Goosebumps cooled my warm skin. 

Every moment we spent together in the last few nights made it harder to peel away from each other. Ever since he had left, I was searching for this fulfillment through any body I could. Other men were good to me, great even. But my thirst for the person I secretly longed for, the touch of the man who knows every inch of my skin and how to make it submit to him, was far stronger. 

He knew my heart, even better than Polly did. He read me so well, but to be fair, he can read most people well. This was different though. He empathized with me. He didn’t use the weakest parts of myself against me, like he had done to so many others. He listens to me ramble on about all the things I felt in the moment and all of the things I loved, because he truly wanted to know. 

 And when he smiles, oh god. My heart aches like it’s the first time witnessing such beauty. It would be a tragedy to go on in life without being the one Thomas Shelby was smiling down on. I felt tremendously loved by him in this moment, even though he would never say it. 

I was falling in love with him again. In a way, I’ve always been in love with him. But this love is different than before. This love, I felt, is something more mature and something much more valuable than before. Our foundation had been built so long ago. Peeling back the layers of eachother after the war was something I craved. This type of love I felt for him was so fucking consuming.  

‘Leaving was dreadful mostly…but also a bit freeing.’ I tried to imagine what it felt like to leave home without knowing if you’d ever make it back. 

‘Freeing, is it? In what way?’ 

His hand fell into my hair, lightly stroking, causing me to nuzzle even closer to him. 

‘It’s hard to explain…I finally realized how small and replacable I am in this world. When you grow up in a shitty little town like Small Heath, you forget that there is so much more outside of this place and these people. It changed the way I looked at the world. We are so finite. It’s humbling.’ 

His words vibrated off his chest as he spoke so eloquently, so at ease, as if he was thinking out loud to me. I felt my entire body fill with adoration and devotion. 

 I hummed in acknowledgment, finding comfort in his words.

‘If you could snap your fingers and go anywhere in the whole world…where would’ya go?’

Seconds passed by before Tommy wraped his arm around my waist, flipping me to my back, pining me under him. I yelped before grabbing his shoulders, giggling.

‘Wherever you are, love.’ 

Goosebumps again. 

He smiled down so wide, it was contagious. His dark features glowed as the sun glistened from his skin. The crinkles in the corners of his eyes and his deep dimples made me swoon.

I blushed under his gaze, reaching up to stroke his freckled cheek.

‘Why are you asking? I’ve finally got you back in my bed. You’re not going anywhere, Jas.’ He whispere a bit playfully before leaning down to nibble at my neck. 

I couldn’t help but rub my thighs together to relieve the ache between my legs. His breath on my skin sent shudders through me. 

‘Or you could take me away from here. Just for a little while…’ I mumbled before my eyes fluttered closed. He kissed down my neck as I spoke. My arms wrapped around his back, pulling him closer to me. 

He snapped his head back up and smiled so innocently. 

‘Alright.’ He said, pecking my lips quickly before practically jumping out of bed. 

I sat up, covering myself with the light white sheets, hair falling into my face. 

‘The hell are you doing?’ I laughed as he started to get dressed in front of me, pulling on an old pair of slacks. 

‘I thought you said you wanted me to take you away for a while?’

My whole body froze with shock and excitement. I knew ‘a while’ for Tommy meant an afternoon away from work, maybe something overnight if I was lucky. I didn’t mind though, my heart swelled at his attempt to make me happy.  He never had to try though. I was happy just to be around him, witnessing his beauty and brilliance.

I stared at him with a smile, sheets still loosly hanging around my chest. He stopped to stare back, examining my body. 

‘As much as I would love to keep you in my bed like that, you should go get dressed. I want to show you something. 

                                                --------

‘Not that I’m not enjoying this, because I am, but where the hell are we going?’ I asked, seated behind Tommy ontop of Gleam. We were seemingly roaming the countryside, which I didn’t mind, but I was curious as to what he needed to show me. 

 The sun attempted to peak through the clouds and trees today. We were trutting slowly down a graveled and rocky road, green is all I saw beyond the path. Along with a small farm house every few minutes or so. It was peaceful here. The only sounds I heard in the distance were dogs barking and the crackling of bonfires. 

Without answering me, he led Gleam towards the entrance of a larger farm house, splattered along the green hills of the countryside. Its abundant surrounding lands were protected by a low stone wall that winded around the property. 

‘What are we doing here?’ I asked as he plopped off of Gleam, reaching for my hand to help me down. My gaze was fixed on all of the open land this place had. I wondered who was rich enough to afford a place like this and what in the hell were two locals like us doing here?

‘Come on, let’s go inside.’ He said after leaving Gleam untied since we were fenced into the property. He grabbed my hand playfully and pulled me towards the entrance.

It was almost as beautiful on the inside. It was quaint but elegant. Nothing too gaudy or obnoxious. It was mostly empty though. The only thing inside the kithen was a high standing island in the middle. The floors were shiny and marbled with a black trim. 

Tommy walked in behind me, shutting he door. 

‘Living room in just ahead, bedrooms extend to the right of it. Nothing in em yet.’ He said casually, like he had been here plenty of times before. I gauked at him curiously. 

‘It’s fucking beautiful, yeh? Who’s is it?’ 

‘It’ll be John and Esme’s in a few weeks. I was offered this property months ago and with how well we’ve been doing at the betting shop, we could afford it.’ He shifted his weight before continuing. 

‘Those two deserve to have a place like this. Those kids deserve something nice and big, not a tiny bedroom in the middle of fucking town. Do you think they’ll like it?’ I could see that he was searching for my approval. 

I grabbed his face, pulling him into a soft kiss, in approval of his kindness. 

‘Of course, they will! This is so so perfect, Tommy. The kids will be so much happier here. Esme will be so greatful. She’s getting too crammed up in town. She needs to live out on the countryside. You did such a good job, Thomas!’ I smiled up at him, squeezing his hands in mine and praising him for doing something so thoughtful for his brother.

He smiled and sighed loudly in relief, as if my words were fact and he no longer had to worry or question his decision. 

‘That’s what I’d hope you’d say.’ He whispered. His hands dropped to trace lines against the tops of my thighs. My dress rose up as he exposed my skin to the cool air. 

I hummed in delightment, egging him on. 

‘You’re such a good man, Thomas Shelby.’ My hands scaled the length of his stomach, trailing down to his belt buckle. 

His eyes grew darker at my words, he let out a low groan. His hands hiked my dress up over my ass, squeezing both of my cheeks in his massive hands. I squeeked under his intrusive touch. Every inch of skin he touched lit me aflame. 

I lifted up on my tippy toes to kiss him slowly and deeply as I unfastened the buckle.

My hands stopped as his tongue pushed its way inside of my mouth, fighting my tongue for dominance over my mouth. He pinched my ass cheeks with each hand harshly as he pulled me off his mouth and pushed me away from him. I stumbled backwards, catching myself from falling over my feet.

He stood plainly, catching his breath in his chest as he spoke. 

‘Take off your dress.’ His voice dripped with lust as his eyes were dark with desire. He leaned his back against the kitchen island, hands in his pockets. 

He wanted to watch me strip down. 

My breath hitched, feeling so small under his gaze. 

I reach behind my back to untie the strap around my waist. As my bright yellow dress became loose. I pushed the sleeves down my arms, wiggling the dress down and around the dips of my hips. 

His eyes devoured my body from across the room for what seemed like minutes. Finally, he reached down and palmed his obvious erection, relieving the throbbing behind his pants. 

I drew my lip into my mouth as I watched him watch me. I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to do. 

‘All of it, off.’ He growled out as he unzipped his pants and casually released his hard cock from its imprisonment. My mouth hung open slightly as my eyes couldn’t look away. He started to stroke himself lazily, waiting for me to pull off my soaking panties and bra. 

As I untied my bra strap, I let it fall to the floor, along with my panties too. 

At some point in the process, he had stripped away his coat, exposing the holsters that wrapped around his shoulders and chest, excentuating his large and broad figure. Aside from his exposed cock and lower tummy, he was completely clothed. 

I watched him stroke up and down his long cock; I was practically drooling. He noticed and let out a light chuckle at how desperate I was. 

‘Get on your knees, Jasmine.’ My heart fluttered and my pussy clenched at his use of my name and his command. I did as I was told instantly, falling to my knees. 

He walked towards me until his cock was level to me.  I hadn’t done this with him in years. I was feeling much more confident in my abilities than I did the first time around. 

It twitched in excitement as his hand fell to my chin and lifted up my face to look at him. I batted my eyes needily, putting on a show for him.

‘Tell me what you want.’ He said, voice flat and dark. 

‘I want your cock in my mouth Tommy, please.’ I said softly, my voice shooting an octave higher. My hands rested on my thighs and I straightened my back out, sticking out my tits.

He groaned again, followed by a laugh. 

‘I like you on your knees, begging like that.’ He practically whispered, releasing his hand from my chin. 

I took this as my opportunity. I wrapped my hand around the base of him, licking my tongue slowly up the length of him before pushing my lips past the sensitive head of his cock. I swirled my tongue along the roundness of it, forcing a sharp inhale of breath from Tommy. His hands fell into my hair, wrapping the length of it around his hands and pushing my head further onto him. His cock slowly filled my mouth, pushing towards the back of my throat. He held my head in place, forcing me to adjust to his massive size. 

I gagged slightly as my throat burned at the intrusion. Tears pricked my eyes. His breathing became erratic as his head fell back. His hands still mangled into my hair. 

Finally, he pulled back. I gasped, filling my lungs with oxygen. I quickly continued to move my mouth up and down his length easily, using my hand to stroke him into my mouth. I looked up, tears running down my cheeks as he began to fuck my throat. My eyes widened as my throat relaxed and opened up for him. He felt me relax around him and hummed in acklowedgment.

I pulled back and before I could continue, he pulled me up from my knees and kissed me sloppily, pushing my body towards the large red ruh in the living room. Aside from the rug, the room was empty, to no surprise.

He lowered to the floor, taking me into his lap with him, my legs loosely wrapped around his waist. He didnt break the kiss as I positioned myself against him, grinding my wet folds over his shaft. 

‘Fucking Christ…I need to be inside you.’ He heaved out desperately. He cupped both of my tits in each of his hands, squeezing. He marveled at my hardened nipples, licking his lips. 

Slowly, I lifted myself up. As I did so, Tommy positioned his dick at my entrance. As he did so, I lowered myself down as he watched his swelling member disappear inside of me. My tight opening relaxed and stretched to accomadate his size. 

His mouth hung open and he let out a choked whimper. I lowered myself down slowly, filling myself up inch by inch, until I was at the base of him. We both held still for a few moments, looking into each other’s eyes, as both of our faces contorted in pain and pleasure. 

‘You are so so perfect like this, love. I love-I love this…’ He stumbled over his words and I almost melted right there as he spoke so sincerely and so truly. He was just a man making love to his woman. I knew this was the real Tommy. 

‘Tommy, fuck you’re so big.’ I moaned out as I began to move up and down on his cock, riding him. I let my hands bear down on his strong shoulders and he wrapped his hands around my love handles, squeezing the flesh underneath his hands. 

‘That’s it…fuck yourself on my cock. You fucking filthy girl.’ He spoke lowly into my ear as my ass rose up and slammed back down onto his thighs over and over again. His words alone were enough to send shocks through my pussy. 

I did as I was told and moved up and down on his length, pressing my hands behind me and onto his thighs, sticking out my chest.

Bearing me down on him, Tommy held my hips in place as he fucked up into me hard and fast. I gasped, my breath getting caught in my chest. My head fell onto his massive shoulder. I was immobilized by his penetration. He was ripping me open in the best way. His cock was hitting the sweetest spot inside of me over and over and over again. 

Our sweaty bodies moved in sync as he flipped me onto my back and fucked me senseless. He held both of my wrists in one hand above my head and the other hand rubbed my swollen clit frantically. The room nearly started spinning as the sensations and pleasure and his beautiful face and body and heart hung over me, taunting me. 

‘Thomas, pl-please don’t s-stop! I stuttered out, closing my eyes in pleasure as he lifted my hips up with his own and fucked me even deeper on the floor of this lovely farm house.

‘Jasmine…fuck baby, I-I love you.’ 

My eyes shot open, but his were still closed in pleasure. He didn’t seem to notice the words that had just left his mind and flew out of his mouth. 

I tried to hide the beeming smile on my face. Did he really love me? Or was he just caught up in the moment? We had been fucking for the last three days and he had never said anything like this before. I knew I loved him too. 

‘Thomas look at me.’ I moaned as his eyes lifted to watch my naked figure rocking to the motion of his thrusts. He looked desperately into my eyes. They looked bewildered and almost like he was regretful. Then I realized it. 

I reached my hands up to cup his face and he slowed his thursts, watching me. 

‘I love you, Thomas.’ I smiled, hoping this wouldn’t scare him away. 

His mouth plunged into mine, kissing me so furiously. I felt the smile he let creep into the kiss which made me smile too. 

He kissed me and rubbed me and fucked me just enough to push me right off the edge. 

‘I-I’m gonna come Tommy…’ I whispered into his ear as he hung over me, thursting deeper and deeper into me. I wrapped both legs around his waist, getting as close as I possibly could to his body. The only place I ever wanted to be again was under him, protected and loved completely. 

‘Me too…come with me, Jasmine.’ He moaned out as he fucked into me relentlessy, rubbing my hungry clit as a massive wave of pleasure washed over every inch of my body. One last hard thrust and Tommy came right after me, filling me completely with his hot liquids. He whimpered softly over me. His face contorted so sweetly. I loved seeing the most intimate parts of Tommy.

As we both came down, he didn’t move from above me. He just studied my face as I studied his. I couldn’t be sure what he was thinking. I was terrified he regretted saying something like that in the heat of the moment. I didn’t though, I meant it. I always did. But did he?

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@lyarr24 @forgottenpeakywriter @casa-boiardi @tigernach575 @crabat-the-queen @adaydreamaway08 @trixie23 @sunset24t

[liknws]

[ 001 ] Brand Spankin' New.

⎯⎯ PAIRING: lee minho x reader/oc ⎯⎯ TAGS: enemies with serious tension, childhood friends to enemies, revenge eras, college au, angst, bad humor bc i'm not as funny as i think i am, misunderstandings, unrequited feelings ⎯⎯ RATING: 18+, mature ⎯⎯ WARNINGS: drug use (weed), excessive cursing, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of sex and sexual themes (non explicit) ⎯⎯ WORD COUNT: 4k (4.972)

⎯⎯ SUMMARY: karma (kar·ma) defined as "(in hinduism and buddhism) the sum of a person's actions in this and previous states of existence, viewed as deciding their fate in future existences". you've always been a big believer in karma and the universe, knowing that eventually all energy is returned. so when your life is ruined by someone you used to call your best friend, you wonder why karma is taking it's sweet time in retaliating against him. what hurts more is your university won't punish something based on hearsay and so it's up to you to find the proof that lee minho is an evil mastermind and get his ass removed from school for good.

[ masterlist ]

“Did you guys see her newest tweet?” There’s a voice off to the right but you’re not paying much attention. The smoke curls around you in a comforting way that has you leaning back on the beanbag and letting out a content groan. You know exactly what they’re talking about, you’re the one who posted the tweet after all. Not that they know that, no one knows that. Not even your best friends, the people that you’ve shared every embarrassing detail of your life with.

“How do you know the account is a woman?” One of those aforementioned best friends speaking up. Mae, the calm to your storm, the one you find yourself relying on more and more these last few weeks. She never left your side, even supported your idea to take that much needed leave of absence from school after he ruined your life.

But the new year is here, the fall semester officially starts in one week and it’s the first day of rush. The weather is cooling off from the blistering summer, the leaves are changing, and you decided to take their lead and change with them. No more wallowing, no more hiding in your apartment while everyone else has a life without you. Your break is done, you kept up your end of the deal with the dean to take your finals when it came time. You passed, thankfully, and that meant you could start your third year of university with a clean slate.

The discussion draws you back in, hearing the argument about who the mysterious twitter account holder could be. The voice, belonging to the boy Mae had invited, continues. “The way they hate him, it has to be an ex.” You want to snort but instead you just shift in the beanbag, wondering if you laid here long enough if it would just swallow you slowly like quicksand. “You had to admit, he’s dated some questionable people in the past. I wouldn’t put it past a few of them to do this.”

You remain silent, best to not say anything in case you come off a little too smug or a little too prideful of that last tweet. Really you’re not the one coming up with most of the tweets, people are sending so many messages to the anonymous twitter account that you’re having a hard time working through them all. Some are good ones, things you schedule to post through the day. Some messages, you can attest, are from some of his more unstable exes. Those you just delete when you get them, deciding not to entertain the possible storm that could create.

“Who’s dated questionable people?” A new voice, one familiar that raises the imaginary hackles on your back. Really if you were a cat you’d be puffed up and hissing at the newcomer, claws swiping at him to leave.

“Your best friend.” The words taste like venom dripping from your tongue as you open your eyes, settling them on Jisung with a sneer. He at least has the decency to shrink away from your glare. He looks startled, as if he wasn’t expecting you to be there at all. Maybe he’s terrified because of the vitriolic tone you used in addressing him. You don’t care, you don’t want him in your safe circle, sucking up the smoke that’s keeping you calm.

“You’re- I-” He stammers, rubbing the back of his neck while looking away from you. “I didn’t know you were going- that you’re here.” So he didn’t expect you to return after his mentioned best friend had broken you so deeply, left you with scars that lingered and barely healed. Some days they were fresh wounds, some days they were scabs that you couldn’t stop picking at. Today it’s a bright pink scar, tender and the slightest brush makes you wince in pain.

“Look like you’ve seen a ghost, Han Jisung.” You level him with your gaze again, watching with a satisfied smirk as he shrinks further away from you. You say his name like a curse, as if it’s the most horrific sounds your lips have shaped.

“Stop.” The singular word draws your look from Jisung to your best friend, catching her eyes and you calm down a little. She presses a hand to your thigh, fingers gripping into your thigh in warning. “Hi, Jisung. Are the other’s here?” She glances around, looking past him in search of those other six familiar faces. You wonder the same thing but she’s always been the softer of you two, the quiet breeze compared to your tempest winds.

“Yeah, yeah. They’re, um, around.” He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. The others in the circle, the few people you were just talking to and passing the blunt around with have gone silent as they watched the exchange. They all know why you glare at the chipmunk cheeked boy, why you spit venom at him every time you open your mouth. It’s the worst kept secret on campus, how Lee Minho had all but sold out your body as a prank. You don’t like thinking about it but it’s hard not to be reminded when strangers stare at you in pity, or you’re reminded when his friends are around.

“Tell them I say hi,” you say to him, shifting to sit up a little in the beanbag. He takes a step back like he expects you to pounce on him, teeth bared and claws extended. Instead you just smile at him, tight lipped before reaching for the joint that’s passed your way. You turn attention back to your circle of people, clear that your words were meant as dismal. You almost feel bad for the dejected look in Jisung’s face as he walks away.

“Hey.” Mae’s grip on your thigh tightens just slightly, a gesture to grab your attention. She’s looking at you with too inquisitive eyes. “Do you want to go home?” Truthfully, yes, you do; leaving now means that he wins again and you refuse to give that satisfaction. No doubt Jisung has already run back to his group to tell them he saw you. Your suspicions are confirmed when two familiar faces poke around the corner. It reminds you of a cartoon, just the sight of two heads extended past the wall, one on top of the other.

When they spot you, the shorter of the two bolts out from behind the cover of the wall and all but runs to you. Your name is slurred a bit in greeting, his lanky arms wrapping around you before you can protest. You have just enough forethought to pass the joint to Mae before he’s on you.The awkwardness of the beanbag you’ve chosen for the night means he either can crouch to greet you but it wouldn’t be Felix if he did things the normal way. Instead he lays on top of you, face buried into your neck as he hugs you tightly. He might be Minho’s friend but he’s been your sunshine since you met last year.

So you allow his crushing hug. “Nice to see you too, Lix.” You’d hug him back if you could but he’s got your arms in the vice grip he’s calling a hug and they’re trapped at your sides. You resign to your fate, even letting out a soft laugh as he clings to you. You catch a little of what he’s mumbling into your neck, though you do catch how happy he is to see you and that he missed you while you were gone.

The second of the two walks over with his hands shoved into his pockets. You can tell by the way he’s holding back a smile he’s just as happy to see you but his affection is far less physical than Felix. You catch his eyes, giving the best wave you can while still trapped under your sunshine “Hyunjin, hey.” As much as you had wanted to hate them for their association with Minho, it was impossible and you were quick to forgive them for their unfortunate choice in friends. They at least respected you enough not to mention him around you and effectively let you carve out a small part of the dance department that wasn’t tainted by him.

“Ji said he saw you so Felix had to come find you.” Hyunjin offers as a greeting and explanation, reaching down to grab his best friend by the collar of his leather jacket and hoist him off you. “Are you coming back?” He’s never been one to beat around the bush with you, something you respect. “We’ve missed you around the department.”

You feel a warmth in your chest that’s been gone since you left last year. While the leave of absence had given you time to heal, it had also left an emptiness in you that you know was because you were missing such a huge piece of yourself. Dance had always been your safe place, always been your home whenever you needed it. The idea of leaving your apartment had put such a crippling fear into you that you thought you would never be able to return. It had taken months of hard work but you felt okay enough to return, to fall back into the warmth of a dance studio again.

“Mhm,” you offer as confirmation, nodding as well. Their smiles are infectious, eyes crinkling and lifting a dark cloud you hadn’t realized was lingering. In the most dignified way that you could, you stood from the beanbag. “I’ll see you guys later, I need some air.” You looked to Mae who rose with you but gestured at her to stay, you really only intended to slip out the front door for a quick breath of fresh air before coming back.

You part from the circle, patting both Hyunjin and Felix on the arm as you pass, before walking out the front door. It’s a lot more quiet outside on the front lawn. The party wasn’t a rager by any means, more of a too large gathering with slightly loud music and drinks to share. Tame in comparison to some parties you knew would be going on across campus. You had purposely avoided Greek Row, knowing those parties would be exactly that. You hadn’t counted that the people you were also looking to avoid wouldn’t be throwing their own party on the Row.

A handful of people are mingling outside, not one person paying attention to you as you take a seat on the steps. The concrete is chilly underneath you, coupled with the cooler night air and it sends a shiver through your body. The calm out here has done exactly what you wanted, cooled down your temper and brought your beating anxiety to a manageable level. Seeing Jisung had done more than you wanted to openly admit to yourself, knowing that behind the producer lurks the reason for your anxiety. You needed to flee before you caught eyes with the rest of the group.

You’re unsure how long you’ve been sitting out here, you’re only vaguely aware of people coming and going from their own breaks of the party. The cold metal of the railing pressed into your forehead is comfortable, eyes closing a bit as you relax into the iron banister. The music from the house raises in volume and then quiets again, your assumption being that when someone opens the door and closes it again. You assume you haven’t been out here long because Mae has not come to find you but you wonder if that’s wrong too as a jacket settles over your shoulders.

The smell is familiar and warm, woodsy and deep and full of memories that you can’t seem to bring to the surface no matter how hard you try. You know the smell, you can’t figure out why you do, but it brings a sort of comfort nonetheless that has you pulling the jacket tighter around your shoulders and burying your nose into the collar. The music is loud and then muffled once again and you’re left alone outside with your new jacket and your fuzzy thoughts.

Only when your mouth feels a little too dry and your ass has gone numb from sitting on the cold steps, you finally wander back into the party. Mae’s moved from the spot you left her in and you’ve got enough sense to text her to check on her. A quick exchange, making sure she’s okay. Confirmation from your roommate tells you that she’s alright and you don’t need to wait for her if you want to go home. A simple thumbs up emoji on the message and a thanks for the jacket are sent before closing your phone. You don’t see her confused reply, asking what jacket since she didn’t give you anything.

A red cup pulled from the stack and run under the tap for a drink of water is your destination. The slightly earthy taste from the water is a comfort, reminding you of warm weather back home and spending sweltering days in ponds and lakes to cool off.

Your arms slide through the sleeves of the jacket, settling into the warmth of its soft fabric. The sleeves extend just a little past your fingers, you realize. Mae must have grabbed it from her date, you think, raising the cuff to your nose to practically nuzzle into the hem. It’s a soft jacket and you don’t want to give it back and you wonder if you can convince her to let you keep it as a roommate tax for letting her invite a date to what was meant to be a girl’s night out. Not that you can really blame her, you guess. You’ve spent nearly every waking minute together and most nights cuddled in her bed instead of your own. The nights are the worst, that’s when the anxiety and the fears settle in like they’re meant to call your chest home.

Without your roommate to wait on, you don’t see the point in staying at the party much longer. The place is still as lively as it was before but your social battery is nearing zero quickly and the call of your bed is strong. You won’t admit that the sight of that group has ruined your night, the good mood you were clinging to so desperately has gone with it. Your phone is back in your hand, a quick text to the house chat to let them know you’re headed home and don’t worry about being quiet when they all arrive at their own times.

Lucy is the first to reply, sending a simple blue heart emoji. It makes you smile and you’re shoving your phone back into your pocket while using your other hand to pat down for the key to your apartment.

“Giving yourself a feel because no one else will?”

The voice makes your blood boil immediately, smiling slipping from your face as you turn to look at Minho. He leans against the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. Silently cursing your luck, you just roll your eyes and go to walk away but a tug on the hood of your jacket halts your steps. An extremely undignified sound escapes at the yank of the hood and you’re flailing backwards for a second until a hand presses to the middle of your back to halt your fall.

“Falling for me?” He grins at you when you turn to face him.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you snap at him while shoving his hand off you roughly. You should have guessed Minho would show up once Jisung had spotted you, you should have made your escape then and never come back into the house. Now you’re living with the consequence of your decision to stay instead of just running then, all because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that even the idea of him sends you in the opposite direction.

His hands come up and make a gesture intended to placate the anger thrown his way. “Sorry.” Somehow you doubt his apology given that it’s coupled with that stupid, ugly smirk of his. “Heard you were back.” There’s a slightly awkward pause when you choose not to reply, arms crossing over your chest. A facial expression meant to tell him to go on or shut up settles over your face. “Can’t wait to see your introduction performance this year. Break a leg.” You choose to believe he’s mocking you, in no way do you trust his words to be sincere at all. It’s Lee Minho, he doesn’t know how to be sincere.

Eyes narrow as your stare levels on him, mouth opening to say something nasty in retort. The words die in your throat when a gentle hand clamps over your lips and pulls you backwards by your wrist. You watch as Minho is swallowed by the crowd as you’re dragged out of the kitchen and back into the cool air. Outside smells fresh and you wonder if there might be a storm tonight. Part of you hopes there might be, as a way to wash away everything tonight.

“Go home.” The words are barked at you. Oh right, someone dragged you here. Yanking your arm from their grip, rounding to look at them with the insult that was primed for Minho now ready to be flung toward your captor. His glare makes you stop, shrinking back just a little before remembering you’re not afraid of Christopher Bahng.

“I don’t remember you being in charge of my life.” Shoulders square, taking a step to stand toe to toe with him. Damn, did he get wider? You don’t remember him being quite so filled out. “And the bastard approached me first.” You note how his jaw twitches as he clenches his teeth when you argue with him, when you step closer and won’t back down from him. There’s that stupid voice in the back of your head to swing, that you could take him easily.

“Be the bigger person and go home, Cherry.” His voice is much softer but the look on his face doesn’t change. Your lips purse however at the nickname, sucking on your teeth in annoyance of his casual use of that name. He was the one who came up with it after all, him and Minho had adopted that name for you when you were much younger. A way to tease you for always wanting cherry flavored everything- popsicles to hard candies and everything in between. The name tugs at your heart just a little. Traitorous organ.

“Why do I have to be the bigger person?” Your refusal to back down doesn’t seem to bring a surprise, in fact he seems to have expected it. Once again he grabs you with that large hand, wrapping around your bicep and dragging you away from the house into the street.

“Still live at the same place? I’ll walk you home.”

“I don’t need a fucking escort, Chris.” You shrug his hold off. “Touch me again and I’ll break your hand. Make it hard to perform your live introduction piece with a shattered hand I bet.” There was once a time these threats would never have passed your lips in his direction, never at him. Only ever in his defense, only ever to protect those you cared about. Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away. Some bullshit like that.

“I’ll make sure Mae gets home safe but you need to go, okay? Just- please.” He almost seems.. desperate? You two are standing in the dark of the street, the street lights too spaced out to illuminate your faces. You can only assume his tone, unable to see the look on his face. If it was light you would see that his eyes are soft, pleading with you to just once listen to him. To take his warning and to go home.

“Awa’ an bile yer heid,” you mutter as you turn away from him and start walking to the bus in order to get back to your apartment. His concern leaves you lost for words, lost for a better retort so you just drop the first dismal you can come up with.

“Speak fucking English!” Chan shouts after you, laughing a bit. You don’t risk looking back, knowing you’d find him watching you with that smile. That smile and those stupidly adorable dimples of his. You raise a hand, sending him a single finger salute without looking back at him. Now that you’re truly alone out here, it feels colder as you walk to the bus stop. Pulling the jacket tighter around your middle, pulling the sleeves down further to hide your fingers from the chilled wind.

Just as you near the bus stop the first raindrop of the autumn season hits your cheek.

・❥・

  The morning is crisp after last night’s storm but the clouds have parted for the time. By the time you’re holding your second cup of coffee that morning, your other roommates have joined you out on the back patio in varying degrees of wakefulness. Lucy grumbles something and pulls the mug from your hands, much to your protest, and curls back in her lawnchair with your stolen mug.

“You came home early last night.” She breaks the settled silence, looking over at you.

“Aye, I was wanting to go to bed so my best friend could steal my coffee in the morning.” You’re attempting to reach for your coffee but she bounds out of the chair far faster than someone half awake should be able to. “Chris basically kicked me out.”

“Wait, kicked you out? I thought you weren’t going to Greek parties?” Elsie turns from where she was smoking and smushes the half smoked cigarette under her boot. “You know, to avoid him and his satanic best friend.”

“We didn’t go to the Row.” Mae comes to defense quickly, poking her head up from your lap, eyes opening for the first time since settling in on top of you. “They were there, not our fault. Jisung saw us first and then ran away to spread the news as quickly as he could.”

“That tiny chipmunk bastard can’t keep a single thing to himself, can he?” Elsie rolls her eyes, dropping into Lucy’s now abandoned chair. “Has to play Minho’s ever loyal bitch- ow.” Lucy’s fist remains on top of Elsie’s head where she’d knocked her knuckles into her sister’s head in warning. “Sorry. Loyal pet- fucking ow.” Elsie reaches up to swat at the other’s hand.

“Basically Minho was being Minho, trying to start something and Chris came to the rescue as always. He dragged me out of the house and told me to go home. Basically ordered me, the fucking bastard.”

“I love when you get angry and your accent is so thick I can barely understand you. Really love the mental workout this morning.” Mae loves to tease the three of you for your accents, according to her they make you almost unable to be understood when speaking English around the house. She often jokes that learning to speak Scots is now her third language.

“Lap privileges revoked.” You shift so her head is no longer in your lap, using the opportunity to stand as well. “I need to head to the studio anyway, finish working on this routine for the introductory performance next week.”

“Lu already packed you lunch. It’s in the fridge and your favorite water bottle is in the freezer to take with you too.” Elsie is quick to inform you with a grin. Lucy beams from where she’s sitting, eyes still closed as she drinks (your) her coffee.

“I’ll come with I need to finish mine,” Mae says between struggling yawns before heading to your shared room to get ready. When you tell her you’ll meet her outside she sends you a thumbs up over her head in acknowledgement.

・❥・

  “So whose jacket did you take home last night? I’ve never seen that one.” That same jacket that is thrown over one of the chairs in the corner with your bag. Your head lifts to follow her accusatory finger before dropping back down, the dull thud of your head hitting hardwood sounding a lot louder in the empty studio space than reality.

“I thought you gave it to me last night. When I went out to get air.”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ on the word. “Did you just steal a jacket?”

“Yah! I don’t just steal things. It was given to me, thank you very much.”

A contemplative hum through closed lips but she doesn’t say anything more. You can almost see the cogs turning in her mind and you want to ask what she’s thinking but the subject is changed quickly.

“How are you feeling about the dance?” She watches you in the ceiling to floor mirrors before turning to actually face you. Your head rolls to the side, looking at her now instead of staring up at the ceiling.

“Nervous. Director Yun gave me some really great advice and feedback after looking at my taped final. I don’t know, I’m really outside of my comfort zone here- but that’s the whole point right? I’m not here to perfect what I already know, I want to learn where I’m weak. How else can I be a big time choreographer if all I can do is a pirouette and a chassé.”

“You’re not doing ballet this year?” A new voice chimes into the conversation and you swear your eyes might just roll hard enough to fall out of your head. It would be far more preferable than this conversation. “So the old dog does know more than one trick.”

“We’re the same fucking age, Minho.” You're propped up on your elbows now, eyes narrowed as he stands in the doorway. He’s not alone of course, you note. He’s never alone. You wonder if he’s still holding the fear of being alone, that at the end of everything he’ll just be as lonely as he was before.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“And I’m not going to.” Moving to sit up, you reach for the discarded canvas pirouette slips. “Leave so I can practice.”

“No.” You don’t even need to look at him to know that stupid smirk is there.

“No? The fuck do you mean no?” He ignores your question and walks in, Chan following behind. You watch the both of them with hands on hips before glancing back at Mae. The confusion and fury is written all over your face but the two newcomers are either choosing to ignore it or just don’t see it. You’d bet your life savings that it’s the former.

“You’re not the only person needing to practice for the introduction performance.” As if that is meant to explain why he’s trying to kick you out of the room you’ve been using. His dance bag drops on top of yours. “I’ll help you and then you can leave so I can use the room.”

“I don’t need your help.” You hate how it comes out more like a question. Stomping over, you grab his bag and shove it back at him. “The fuck do you have in there? Bricks? The fuck it’s so heavy for.” You attempt to shove him and his bag out the door but the canvas on your feet means you just end up sliding a little. Real dignified.

“You said you weren’t doing ballet this year for your dance. Seriously, let me help.” Wow, he almost sounds genuine. Which only makes you far more suspicious. Eyes narrow as he watches you, standing in silence that’s too heavy and too tense. The other two in the room don’t say anything, afraid of leaving with bite marks should they get between the two fighting cats.

“Fine,” you snap, dropping his bag and watching with pride as he fumbles it a little as he wasn’t really holding it. You toss a look to Mae that says more than you could voice right now. Surprisingly she’s already grabbed a couple chairs off the stack, presumably with Chan’s help, and sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. A cheerful thumbs up from her settles the butterflies you didn’t notice had taken up residence in your gut.

Minho is at your side in a beat, his stuff placed back on top of yours. A very are-you-for-real? look in his direction that he just gives you a smile, bunny teeth and all. Mae’s been in charge of the music and you give her a look through the mirror to start it again. On the count you step out into your first move and get lost again in the feeling of your body moving to the music. All you see is yourself in the mirror, critical of every single twitch of muscle and wrinkle of skin. You catch Minho’s eyes in the mirror and you can’t look away.

The intensity in his eyes is captivating, watching every small step and maneuver you put your body through. You’ve seen that look on his face before, years ago, when he would watch you practice your ballet routines or when he was helping with taekwondo. It’s somehow comforting to see him tracking your hands, your feet, watching how you throw your body through the air as if you’re made of a feather instead of a human body.

You can’t take your eyes off him watching you. His eyes meet yours in the mirror. All you can see is him. All he can pay attention to is you.

What you two don’t see is Chan and Mae shaking hands over a friendly bet and sharing knowing smiles.

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[solar-sunnyside-up]

hey, something i've been struggling with recently is i've been struggling with "finding my people" because i'm a minority in my hometown, and a lot of people... aren't. they don't understand me, and often when i try to get them to understand they seem like they fall back into the old systems they were traumatized with (elitism, classism ect.,). 1/2 -solidarity anon

Im gunna say this at the top, this is so rough and im so sorry you gotta go through this sweetie. We are so isolated and filtered into categories within our current system in order to keep that isolation and to fight solidarity and unity. Now I cannot know for 100% sure what your going through or the extend your suffering. But will say I am from and currently still live in a oil loving, god fearing, anti-LGBT, and very racist city while i was raised wiccan by a poly core family and all my gay aunts/uncles and have been dreaming of an earthship my whole life plus every summer id be stuck in an even more harsh farming community that was so small they gotntheir first street light when i was 9 and the chruch is also town hall (mayor works in a wing off of the building). So there is at least some overlap in the experiences your having.

But that being said, how I got weirdly connected to people and involved in so many projects and stuff might not work for you.

Personally? I just yelled and yelled about the injustice of the system at work, about cool forestry projects and people buying ghost towns to start up Co-loving villages. Sharing discworld and different philosophers with coworkers backed up by their fave hobby. About how terrible the conservative politics are. About how cool transit could be if we funded it. About community art projects and how cool solar glass would make things look. About drags shows and events and did you know there is A SOUP FESTIVAL? I'm autistic and have only really interacted my whole childhood with friends with ADHD so my brain is weird and won't shut up once it starts going.

As a result of my ramblings, I have gotten a lot of responses mostly ones that are positive since if they didn't agree with my absurdist philosophy ramblings or solar project ideas they'd just leave the coffee shop. If they enjoyed it, say they want to join a community garden/event or if someone was as stoked as I was about again UNLIMITED TASTINGS SOUP FESTIVAL than we'd chat about that. The thing is a lot of these things have overlap. Someone who wants to convert their lawn into a pollinators habitate prob also likes little libraries and as a result prob also likes the idea of dark sky street lights. And down the rabbit hole you go.

That being said... my best actual advice is 2 pronged.

RESEARCH and REACH OUT

I personally have done years worth of research on my city. What local events and politics are happening? Even in rural places there is at least garderns, there's engineers, there's usually a LGBT focused club. And from these spaces, you can build a network. Doing research I found out about 5 different organizations in my city (most of which was founded 40 yrs ago??) That where sustainability focused. Doing research made me realize how cool community associations could be and how I could help mine out. It also gives you all those ideas for convos.

Second, I reached out to those groups about weird ideas I had, about if I could hang up posters for them in my local area, if I could buy groups worth of tickets in advance, and than also reaching out to the ppl I already talked to and had these ppl interact. My fave example of this is T. T is an engineer who built a fully functioning solar car during his degree program but specializes in hydroponics (how we ended up talking was over plants) he than gets shown my fave farm near by and now he's building the farms hydro system and Seedling house. Writing in to newsletter ppl and showing off weird layout design. This is ultimately very anxiety indusing. What if I'm bothering them? Why should I be spamming them like this? But the secret here is-

No one will ever be mad about you showing interest in their interest once you find those ppl. They want the interaction just as much as you do.