#another essay what is new LOL

[arcanegifs]

[foxmulderautism]

i've been thinking about the write up i want to do about how whilst i get it and don't think it's problematic, i'm not a fan of inherently cringing at and making fun of old writing from when i was younger for being so "bad" compared to what i write now (even if i can recognise that the writing is very goofy and juvenile and find that entertaining in hindsight) and one thing i just realised about it is that like. my excitement about writing is the same as it was back then. like when i was 11 i was soo excited and passionate about my little story about a desert princess who was a cat hedgehog hybrid and best friends with shadow the hedgehog. and at 23 i am sooo excited about my adult literary fiction novel that explores grief and survivors guilt and sexuality amongst the AIDS crisis. and for me i definitely think it's an autism thing but i don't think it's limited to me or autism i just don't think people often think to see it that way because so often we're expected to laugh at cringe at any earnest thing our younger/newer writer self created. like yeah that sonic the hedgehog fanfic i wrote was goofy, but i was earnest about it?? and i have the same earnest joy about what i write now so what exactly did 11 year me do to deserve being made fun of for their "bad" writing besides trying something new and being excited about it?? the fact that even though i've grown exponentially in the last 12 years i have that thread of joy for creating characters and storytelling that i can trace through my entire teenage years (which were a very traumatic and unstable time for me!) is soooo cool so why would i only see a vital part of that thread for all the things "wrong" and "cringe" about it?

[communistkenobi]

(taken from a post about AI)

speaking as someone who has had to grade virtually every kind of undergraduate assignment you can think of for the past six years (essays, labs, multiple choice tests, oral presentations, class participation, quizzes, field work assignments, etc), it is wild how out-of-touch-with-reality people’s perceptions of university grading schemes are. they are a mass standardised measurement used to prove the legitimacy of your degree, not how much you’ve learned. Those things aren’t completely unrelated to one another of course, but they are very different targets to meet. It is standard practice for professors to have a very clear idea of what the grade distribution for their classes are before each semester begins, and tenure-track assessments (at least some of the ones I’ve seen) are partially judged on a professors classes’ grade distributions - handing out too many A’s is considered a bad thing because it inflates student GPAs relative to other departments, faculties, and universities, and makes classes “too easy,” ie, reduces the legitimate of the degree they earn. I have been instructed many times by professors to grade easier or harder throughout the term to meet those target averages, because those targets are the expected distribution of grades in a standardised educational setting. It is standard practice for teaching assistants to report their grade averages to one another to make sure grade distributions are consistent. there’s a reason profs sometimes curve grades if the class tanks an assignment or test, and it’s generally not because they’re being nice!

this is why AI and chatgpt so quickly expanded into academia - it’s not because this new generation is the laziest, stupidest, most illiterate batch of teenagers the world has ever seen (what an original observation you’ve made there!), it’s because education has a mass standard data format that is very easily replicable by programs trained on, yanno, large volumes of data. And sure the essays generated by chatgpt are vacuous, uncompelling, and full of factual errors, but again, speaking as someone who has graded thousands of essays written by undergrads, that’s not exactly a new phenomenon lol

I think if you want to be productively angry at ChatGPT/AI usage in academia (I saw a recent post complaining that people were using it to write emails of all things, as if emails are some sacred form of communication), your anger needs to be directed at how easily automated many undergraduate assignments are. Or maybe your professors calculating in advance that the class average will be 72% is the single best way to run a university! Who knows. But part of the emotional stakes in this that I think are hard for people to admit to, much less let go of, is that AI reveals how rote, meaningless, and silly a lot of university education is - you are not a special little genius who is better than everyone else for having a Bachelor’s degree, you have succeeded in moving through standardised post-secondary education. This is part of the reason why disabled people are systematically barred from education, because disability accommodations require a break from this standardised format, and that means disabled people are framed as lazy cheaters who “get more time and help than everyone else.” If an AI can spit out a C+ undergraduate essay, that of course threatens your sense of superiority, and we can’t have that, can we?

[oozeandgoo-art]

no, by "weird" i mean "uncanny". i mean it's a "weird dog" in the same way one could describe a parrot as a "weird autoresponder". this is not Actually a dog any more than it is Actually a dead thing, but when it walks like a duck and winks and says "quack" clear as day, might as well call it a weird duck, no?

this guy was pretty strongly inspired by the character Coyote from Gunnerkrigg Court, who is also a weird coyote in the sense that he's some other thing, but he's called Coyote, and he looks like a coyote, and it's as good a presumed name as anything else. personally I wasn't impressed by the original comic nor its execution of the character, and it treads into territory I don't want to touch vis-a-vis trying to "respectfully" turn characters from Indigenous American mythology into characters for one's own storytelling and entertainment, but I liked the idea of a mischievous Not A Dog with magic powers and a knack for showing up just before everything else goes wrong lurking about in my creative repertoire, and I think I could do a character like GC's Coyote just as well as GC pulled it off, if not, frankly, better lol. never let it be said I do not create with ego first and skill second XD

i suppose by weird dog I could mean awesome weird dog, but [weird dog] comes first!

made a weird dog

[idkwhatever580]

Baby No!

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Prompt: Reader finds a mug identical to Natasha's favorite mug and starts plotting...

Warnings: Fake tears, broken glass, swearing, kind of mandala effect, karma? (I don't believe in karma, but it's the easiest way to explain it.

A/N: Hey guys! I feel like I haven't made a serious post in forever and I am having some serious writers block with the requests (I'm so super-duper sorry about that) But I always feel like after writing a few pranks, I get into the gist of things again. However, I might be fooling myself this time since I think I have a 2,000-word essay due next week that I haven't started on and a 1,000-word essay possibly 1,500 words due the following week, so yeah. T-T

Also, this was inspired by that one masc lesbian tiktoker named Alaire. They make a bunch of videos reenacting scenes with their girlfriend who has only ever dated men. They always go like "baby no!" when their gf is crying or about to cry lol.

It was just a normal day for you, driving home from buying groceries and you impulsively decided to stop at your local thrift store to see if they had anything new.

They knew you buy name and saved what they thought would interest you because you frequented their shop so much. You literally got first pick on most of the items they had solely because they love you so much.

So, as you stroll in, you smile and wave at the owner who waves back and nods her head to signal that there is new stuff in the back waiting for you to inspect.

You smile and walk right past all of the racks and shelves that you've sifted through a hundred times before, and you walk into the back and wave at Mary, the sorter.

You walk to your section that they labeled and you immediately frown, you spot a mug that you know.

It's Natasha's favorite mug. The mug has cute handle and was the only one that you could ever find. So, you walk over to it and pick it up wondering if it ended up in the box of things that you donated, possibly on accident. Although you could have sworn Nat was using it just the other day.

You roll your eyes picking it up and remembering that you have cold groceries in the car, you decide that you need to go. While taking it to the register, you decide not to mention anything to Kevin, the cashier, because they would probably give it back to you for free and you hate to leave them without buying a single thing.

You pay for the mug and take it home. Once you get back, you quietly wash the mug and go to put it in its usual spot, but you find that the mug is already there. You have a moment where your brain is stuck trying to put the pieces together, but when it clicks that you just bought a duplicate to the unique mug that Natasha loves so dearly, you start plotting.

You smirk and run upstairs knowing that Nat is in training for another hour or so and you quickly grab the fake blood from your period prank with Nat.

You know that Nat will probably come in on the first floor, and you chill in the basement, where Nat has coincidentally found her mug from you forgetting to put it back after stealing it. You check the time and calculate how long you have.

15 minutes... that's enough time for you to glue a fragment of the dupe coffee mug to your hand mostly carefully so you don't actually cut yourself and pour the blood in a way that it is dripping down your arm from your hand.

Once you are sure it looks amazing from every angle, you smirk and set up the camera. Which probably would have been easier to do with two hands but whatever. You like to do things the hard way sometimes.

Natasha comes in and yells out, "Y/n! I'm home!"

You yelp out pretending to be startled by her voice and you drop the mug on the floor.

Natasha hears the familiar crash of shattering ceramic and runs down to check on you saying, "Y/n? Are you alright?"

You fake a worried face and tone, "Yes! I'm fine baby! Just whatever you do, don't come down here!"

She frowns, "I need to make sure you are okay, I'm coming down okay?"

"Baby No!"

It's too late, she is already rushing down the stairs to check on you, the first thing she sees when she scans the room is you cowering in the middle of the floor with shattered ceramic pieces all around you and one big shard in your hand, "Y/n! Oh my god!"

She runs over, careful not to kick any ceramic pieces around, and carefully takes your hand in hers, "What happened detka?"

She looks into your eyes and you make your lip quiver and your eyes fill with tears as she tries to hush you, "No baby, its okay, please don't cry."

You let a few tears slip and say, "but- but you- I-" Your eyes widen as you look down and say, "Nat please don't be mad!"

She furrows her eyebrows reaching in the closet quickly to grab a first aid kit as she sits you on a table to assess your hand.

You frown and rush out, "I was drinking with your mug and then you scared me, and I dropped it and broke your favorite mug!"

She freezes when she realizes exactly what mug you have stabbing into your hand right now, but only briefly. She quickly composes herself and shakes her head, "I don't care baby, mugs are replaceable, you are not."

You quickly smirk at the camera when she looks away but recover when she comes back. She sets up her stuff and stops to look up into your eyes, "Detka? I know this isn't your first rodeo, but this is probably going to hurt like a bitch. I still need you to sit still though, okay?"

You nod your head as she starts to carefully wipe the blood off to try and assess the wound and how many stitches you'll need.

She frowns, "This looks like it should be deeper, but I think it is only superficial. That is a good thing, it means you might not have to go to Bruce, but I'm going to need to take the ceramic shard out before I make any final decisions."

You nod your head, but as she goes to pull it out slowly you yelp and pull your hand away before she can even touch it, "I'm scared! What if I bleed out?"

She shakes her head and holds yours in her hands, "You're not going to bleed out, I promise. If I was worried about that, I would have already taken you to the Med-bay, okay? I just need you to trust me. Take a deep breath, okay?"

You inhale and exhale slowly, and then bring your hand over to hers and nod your head.

When Natasha pulls the cut shard off of your hand though, she sees that it was glued on, and your hand underneath it is completely fine. When you see confusion cross her features, you start giggling, and not long after you are laughing your ass off.

She makes the connection, and her face drops to a glare. "Are you kidding me? I was so concerned about how the hell you even got a piece of ceramic this big into your hand in the first place, and you were just pranking me the whole time?"

You giggle and nod your head, but you forget to tell her about the duplicate mug scenario, so she frowns and says, "Did you seriously break my mug for a prank?"

After thinking about it, you decide to double prank her and nod your head laughing even more, but you realize you crossed the line when she drops down and slowly starts picking up every piece she can, and she starts trying to place them together.

Obviously, this doesn't work, and it crumbles to pieces again, but she sniffs a bit, and you realize the gravity of the situation. You place a hand on her shoulder, and she shrugs you off, so you try to talk to her, "Baby? I'm sorry, okay? I didn't realize it meant that much."

She shakes her head and mumbles out, "My sestra got that mug for me. It was the second thing she ever bought for herself once she got out of the red room, and she gave it to me. She- she's going to be heartbroken when she finds out it's broken. I'm heartbroken that it is broken." She lets a tear fall and then composes herself.

"Wow, I- I never knew, I'm so sorry. Can't we just find one on ebay or something?"

Nat lets out a frustrated huff and stands up and she starts cleaning the glass off the floor as she rants, "No! I can't find one on ebay, don't you think I've tried? Don't you think I know how clumsy and stupid you are, and was trying to be prepared for a situation like this to happen because you never ever listened to me when I told you not to touch my mug, but you're Y/N so you have to break the rules! I just didn't realize that the reason I would need such a duplicate would be because you are so careless and awful that you'd break this!"

Your jaw drops a bit at her rant, and you try to find words as Nat huffs and starts calming her breathing. You are a little hurt by her words which, on one side, you don't have a right to be hurt because you are the one that wanted to do a prank, but on the other hand, Nat just admitted that she never initially trusted you with her mug which really hurts. "I- I don't know what to say..."

Nat sighs and mumbles, "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I am just frustrated and I-"

You put your hand up to stop her and move to open a drawer and grab the original mug. You hold it in your hands, "I found a mug that looked exactly like yours at the thrift store today. I thought it would be some harmless fun to smash the duplicate one and prank you, but I'm realizing that I may have taken it too far."

You try to not let the fact that you are incredibly hurt show, but you are not the black widow or anything, so you just start on your own rant. "I know it was heartless and cruel of me to play this kind of prank on you. In my defense you never told me the story behind the mug, so I didn't realize how much it meant to you. Now... I am very sorry that I broke the duplicate on purpose, but here is your precious mug that you clearly don't trust my clumsy ass with. And most of all, I'm sorry that you never trusted me enough with it in the first place, so much so, that you thought you had to find it online so that I wouldn't hurt your precious mug."

You softly, but firmly, push the original mug into Natasha's hand and step back. You turn to go upstairs and inevitably lock yourself in the bathroom or something, but Nat says, "Y/n wait! I- I didn't mean it, I was just angry, okay? People say things that they don't mean when they get angry."

You huff and turn around and hold up your pointer finger, "No Natasha, you’re lying to me, want to know how I know that you are lying? Natasha Romanoff does not say hurtful things when she gets angry. Maybe I do, maybe Yelena and Tony and Steve and Alexie and so many others do, but not Natasha. No..."

You pause and start using every name in the book you can come up with, "Natalie Rushman stays calm and collected when she is angry, Fanny Longbottom takes a step back and thinks before she speaks, Natalia Romanova is calculative and smooth with her words. So, no... Do not tell me that MY Natalia Alianovna Romanova has suddenly had a change of heart, and suddenly starts spewing nonsense that she doesn't mean when she is angry, because that is a lie. The Nat I know, has more self-control than anyone on this earth, the Talia I know does not say something that she doesn't mean unless she knows I will catch her joke or understand her sarcasm, the Natty I know doesn't lie for things like this. So don't go and say something just to make me feel better after you spoke your truth, even if it did hurt my feelings..."

You take a deep breath and look deep into her eyes, "And before you say it, I know I have no right to be hurt over how you felt when I broke your mug, but you and I both know it goes so much deeper than just a mug. I get why you were angry and frustrated, I really do, and I understand why you said those hurtful things, you had every right to do it. Those hurtful things were at least truthful, I just wish you didn't feel the need to lie to save my peace. I wish you'd have told me that you didn't trust me with something that meant so much to you. It probably would have saved a lot of hurt."

She opens and closes her mouth to try and come up with something. Anything. She sighs eventually and nods her head, “you’re right. I should have just told you, it’s no excuse but I thought it would be better if I kept it a secret, but now I see that I was wrong. I'm sorry baby."

You hum and say, "Honestly, I'd have done the same thing. So, sorry for getting all pissy about it, you were just trying to look out for me, but unfortunately it was a lose-lose situation for the both of us." Thankfully, your ADHD brain jumps topics swiftly when there is an awkward pause, and you say, "I'm hungry. Are you hungry? Let's make dinner!"

You both go upstairs and start cooking y'alls dinner and live happily ever after. ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey guys, so this has been in my drafts for a few weeks now, and I am just really trying to get it out to y'all, so it is super rushed at the end. I honestly don't even remember where I was going with it, but I had enough to bullshit it. I hope y'all like it!

Also, I am going to stop writing for a while, I think college is really catching up to me, and honestly, I am only apologizing to the people who I promised I'd write their fics. I really got in over my head and I am so so sorry. If I end up writing those fics, it is definitely going to be a surprise for the both of us. I might write a few things every now and then, or if your request can be shortened then I might do that. BUT that is only if I am inspired to write. Once again, I do apologize for breaking a promise, but I have to prioritize myself and I can't apologize for that.

Also Also, I have not been super active on tumblr recently, so if I don't reply or I am not interacting with your posts as I usually would, I am okay, and I pinky promise I am not going to do anything concerning. Maybe I break my normal promises, but you best believe I hold true to my pinky promises.

Masterlist

Taglist

@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo @lovelyy-moonlight @symp4nat @ale-estrabao @mrsrushman @kkreader78o @cheekysnake

[thisismeracing]

Mó paz | LH44

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x brazilian!reader (she/her) ― Warnings: curse words, mentions of food, typos (not proofread). ― Summary: It's time for the Interlagos GP and fans are excited to see how Lewis' Portuguese sounds after becoming a citizen AND dating Yn. ― A/n: Shout out to @queenshikongo3 for suggesting this piece. 🤍 ― A/n:² none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

✷ my masterlist | my taglist here | patreon masterlist ✷ Support my writing by reblogging, and leaving me a message 🤍 ✷ Consider buying me a coffee if you liked it or subscribing to my patreon for exclusive content!

yn

liked by patriciaramos, danielricciardo, and others

yn México te amo, pero yo extrañé mi hogar! 💚 (Mexico, I love you, but I missed my home)

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carlossainzssy Charles is their kid, and in this essay I will- ☝🏻

ferrarifinesse Thank you for sharing the Charles pic, YN!!!!!

lewishamilton te quiero! 😘 (I love you!)

 ⤷ popyn the way he always say's he lovers her using the language of the week's Gran Prix, I- I wanna be loved like this!!!!!!!!!!!

mercgoldenyears not George following lewis like a lost puppy/lost kid, I actually love them sm omg 😂

 ⤷ yn but he is our grid kid! <3

 ⤷  charles_leclerc what about me???

 ⤷ oscarpiastri and me?

 ⤷ landonorris I don't exist???

 ⤷ yukitsunoda0511 I'm feeling betrayed

 ⤷ mickschumacher So am I!

 ⤷  yn lewishamilton please help me here, the kids are fighting

 ⤷ lewishamilton sebastianvettel help, seb!!!

 ⤷ redferrari16 this is so funny LMAO

mirrorballeclerc the matching yellow aesthetic pic, they're truly soulmates 😭💙

lewishamilton

liked by seujorge, charles_leclerc, and others

lewishamilton Mais uma volta para casa 🇧🇷 (Another homecoming 🇧🇷)

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brunamarquezine 💚💛 bem vindo de volta!!! (Welcome back!)

44brcitizen I am the happiest person, I actually never had a sad day in my life, I can't remember ever struggling, or whatever, life is beautiful! 🌷🌸🌻💐

monacoocon The Brazilian flag is actually so pretty, I'm always mesmerized

yn 😍😍

⤷ 1dformulaone yeah, babes, that's your man (I wish it was mine, with all due respect KJDSGKJDSG)

mercedesamgf1 💜💚💛🤍

georgerussell63 vamos! 🇧🇷 (let’s go!)

⤷ sassyrussell Carmen wrote this, I just know she did 😂🤍

*the first story says "She's writing new songs".

lewishamilton

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lewishamilton mó paz! 💚

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badgalriri 😍😍😍❤️

linikeroficial amo amo amo! (I love love love)

missionfortyfourr mó paz means to be in peace, chilling, serene

⤷ mercmickie and the fact that the song talks about being at peace after he came into her life, that he's there to stay, that her life's different now?!!?!?!?!? I AM SOBBING

lewandyn she's so pretty, so smart, so talented, so perfect ughhh 🩷😭

⤷ lewishamilton yes, she is ❤️

⤷ norrizzlando your honor, he's in love!

interlagostrack LINDOS, PERFEITOS, DONOS DE MIM!

yn Te amo muito, vidinha 💗 (I love you sm, my life!)

⤷ lewishamilton te amo, meu amor

⤷ russellrain "meu amor" alguém por favor, me ajuda, eu desidratei de tanto chorar (“my love” someone pls help me, I just dehydrated from crying)

⤷ totolobo TE AMO, MEU AMOR DSKGJDSKJSKDHJ

roscoelovescoco I’s love’s you!

princessyn Stream Mó paz on spotify!!!!!!!!!!!!!

carmenmmundt 🩵🩵🩵

franciscac.gomes lindos! 🥰🤍

yn

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yn Que dia incrível cantando com os amigos em casa, e que noite perfeita celebrando com eles! Amo vocês 💘

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sunnysainz we all know who she was looking at in the first pic hehe

tsunodaangel Omg, I love them so so much 🥲

lewishamilton 🤩😍😍

lewishamilton caraca, foi incrível!!!

⤷ charleslehoe he's officially Brazilian now!!!!! LOL

patriciaramos a mulher mais linda do Brasil!!! (The most beautiful woman in Brazil!!!)

⤷ yn te amo, paty! (I love you, paty!)

swiftieyn why haven't we got a collab w xnda yet?

⤷ yn you sure you haven't? 👀

⤷ schumachersbike OMG OMGDKJSDKJG

seujorge 💛💛💛

ricciardosmile 🎶 bom que cê chegou pra ficar pra sempre, com você mó paz 🎶

carsgoingvroom the "existe amor em sp" reference *cries* (it means "there's love in SP, it's a reference to a song that says that there's no love in Sao Paulo)

⤷ braziliangp how about the quote??!?!!? I melted (if the sun doesn't shine tomorrow I'll use your smile to light my day")

⤷ mickcedes omg you guys thank you sm!! I was struggling with my A1 and translator LOL 😅

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! Don’t forget to leave me a message/ask and follow me if you did *mwah*

Consider supporting me by buying me a coffee if you liked it or subscribing to my patreon for exclusive content!💘

©thisismeracing do not copy, steal, or translate my work. do not repost on a different media platform.

Taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @saintslewis @scorpiobleue @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @v1naco @dearxcherry @crystals-faith @peachiicherries @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @soph1644 @cixrosie @darleneslane @itsmaytimetosaygoodbye @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @skepvids @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji (quick reminder to enable visibility so I can tag all of you guys properly ❤️)

― reblogs, comments, and asks are extremely appreciated, make sure to leave yours *mwah*

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5.3k words

warnings: explicit language, a bunch of other good things that i don’t wanna say because i don’t want to completely spoil everything<333

summary: an unexpected conversation between you and steve leads to a long overdue realization 

quick a/n: a bit nervous to post this one lol but i hope yall enjoy🫶🏾

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | ❝𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝒘𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕❞

Summer 2017

“I’m a little upset that I didn’t get the grand hometown tour.”

“You mean the tour of the old library that I spent probably too much time at back in high school, and the park that I also really liked back in high school, but it’s currently under construction?”

Eddie gave you an amused smile. “Yes, exactly that.”

“Next time,” You told him, completely joking with your words, but you wouldn’t have been surprised if he actually held you to them the next time he was here. But, you honestly didn’t think that there’d be another moment when he was in your hometown; this moment in itself felt almost like a fluke.  

After a five week long road trip with Eddie, you still weren’t ready to be home— you dreaded it, actually— but things had started getting too expensive and Eddie’s van was in dire need of a break. 

You did most of the driving to your hometown because you knew that Eddie would have to do all of the driving alone back to his own home. And then he stayed with you for the night at your dad’s house. You didn’t even have to do any sort of introduction between the two because your dad was off on a vacation with his new girlfriend.

Now it was the morning and you two lingered by Eddie’s van, prolonging the conversation because the next time you’d see each other would be a little over four weeks— when you moved into your apartment with Robin, Vickie, and Talia, and he moved in with two people that he found at the last second; luckily, your respective buildings weren’t far from each other, so it wouldn’t feel impossible to see each other. 

You pulled Eddie in for a hug, a long one that felt so equivalent to a goodbye and it actually managed to sadden you a bit because of how good the last five weeks had been and it sucked that it was all over now. 

When you pulled back, you gave him a smile. “See you in four weeks, Edward.”

He laughed a little. “See ya.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

Maybe things should’ve felt at least a little weird or awkward between you and Steve in this moment in the library— it had been a month since the last time you two talked— but it didn’t. At all. 

It was all so surprisingly easy. The small talk wasn’t even unbearable; you liked hearing about the mundane things he’d been up to for the past month and you didn’t mind sharing your own stories about classes you’d come to hate and how you didn’t feel all too prepared for finals because you had more essays to do than actual tests. And then you two moved into random bits of nothing, asking the first thing you could think of or filling the silence with storytimes or quick anecdotes, and whispering the entire time so that you didn’t disturb everyone else in the library right then. 

You two probably should’ve moved somewhere else, but it felt as if the entire moment would’ve been broken if you did so. Logical thinking would’ve sunk in on your side of things and you would’ve realized that all of this was a bad idea and you should’ve left, or perhaps never sat down across from him on this carpeted floor in the first place.

“Did you decide what you’re going to do with your summer of freedom?” You asked him instead of leaving or even thinking about doing so. You were mainly joking with your question and just trying to think of something to say, but still, you were a little curious. 

“I think I’m gonna do the Europe thing. Go alone,” He told you. “It’s loosely planned right now, but I’ll fully figure it out after finals.”

“Ooh, that’s very Eat, Pray, Love of you,” You joked. 

He laughed a bit. “Thanks, I think?”

“I’ve actually never seen that movie before, but from what I think I know of it, it felt fitting to mention it.”

“Do you know what you’re gonna do for the summer?”

“Nothing exciting, really,” You answered with a quick shrug. “I think I’m just gonna stay around here. Robin and Vickie are doing some summer classes, and even though I’m not taking any, staying in the apartment for the summer sounds much better than going home the entire time.”

Steve nodded. “With what you’ve said about your parents, that makes sense.”

“Exactly,” You nodded back. “So, if you get bored of Europe— which I highly doubt, but still— please feel free to come to any of our apartment movie nights and sleep on our couch at any point during the summer.”

You realized way too late what exactly your words implied— that you two were friends, that this moment in the library wasn’t and shouldn’t be a one-off thing. And your brain was quickly rushing you to fix what you said. “Or, I guess, that wouldn’t really make sense since we’re not friends or whatever…”

You could recognize that it was a pretty shitty attempt at backtracking, but all Steve needed to do was simply agree and everything would be fine; or, at least, what you’d convinced yourself was considered as “fine.”

“That ‘going our separate ways’ rule was so dumb,” Steve said instead of agreeing with your previous statement. “We should be friends.”

He was completely right, the rule was dumb. But still, even in this entirely comfortable moment, you knew that you couldn’t say what he wanted to hear. 

“I’ve missed this,” He continued on before you could say anything in response. He lightly bumped his knee with yours. “I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too,” You blurted it out before you realized what you were even saying, and you didn’t know how true it was until those four simple words were out in the open and sitting in the quiet air between you and Steve. 

They abruptly made you inwardly admit everything else that you’d been avoiding and refusing to accept— the almost too obvious reason why you couldn’t be friends with him and why you had refused to break the rule this entire past month.  

You’d never be able to be just friends with him. You’d start feeling something more and head down an all too familiar path, another Eddie situation that you weren’t sure if you’d be able to take and not have it break you this time around. Falling for a friend who saw you as nothing more than solely as a friend already sucked once, and you couldn’t imagine letting history repeat itself. 

That was why you couldn’t try to do it; you couldn’t try to be normal and keep things as they were between you and Steve. If you two hadn’t gone your “separate ways,” you were certain that you would’ve ended up liking him, inadvertently feeling more for him than what you wanted to.

However, you were realizing now that the joke was actually on you because it still happened anyway. 

You liked him a lot. And maybe some part of you always did. But, you knew that you’d never be able to do anything about it. 

You were right on one thing, though— this entire moment was a bad idea. 

Before you could come up with some random excuse to leave, the sound of Steve’s phone vibrating next to him saved you instead. He grabbed it, looking down at whatever message he just got and then back at you. 

“I gotta go. I’m late for this study group thing,” He said. “But, I'm not gonna be an idiot right now and once again say that we should go our separate ways. It’s set in stone now— we’re friends.”

“Okay,” You nodded, not meaning in the slightest.

“You should come over tomorrow. We can watch that one Lindsay Lohan movie that you like and I promise I won’t complain about it.”

“It’s called Freaky Friday. And yeah, okay, that sounds good.”

Right then it was easier to lie than to refuse his statement and make up a different lie about why you couldn’t hang out with him, why you couldn’t ever hang out with him. 

Steve gave you one final smile before he stood up. You watched him head down the aisle and then turn the corner before you let yourself lean back against the bookshelf and shut your eyes with a sigh. 

Now that you finally admitted to yourself how you felt for him, it was as if the dam broke and all you could think about was how real the entirety of the fake dating thing had been for you— during the power outage where you actually got to know him, during that night where you two spent Valentine’s together at that arcade and pizza place, during everything that happened in Mexico. It was suddenly so obvious, and you were also reminded of that moment during the delayed flight when the realization first hit you. 

How different would things be if you had actually accepted it back then? You honestly couldn’t imagine. 

Another long sigh fell from your lips as you pulled your legs out of the aisle and crossed them under you.

You really didn’t want to like Steve, and a part of you wanted to try and convince yourself that it wasn’t true; just like you’d done before. But, this time around was so much different. The feelings already felt so settled and certain; you couldn’t even push them away. 

And that only made things feel worse because avoidance was your main coping mechanism. So if you couldn’t push away and forget your feelings for Steve, what the hell were you going to do instead? 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

It was hours upon hours full of contradictory thoughts. One part of you was telling you to be honest and the other was saying the exact opposite, and at first, you had no idea which side to listen to. You wanted to take the easy way out, but there was something about that that didn't sit right with you. Still, though, you considered it.

More time slowly passed, your head in a constant push and pull, and then it was nearing midnight when you decided to call Steve. It was an impulsive decision that, once you were settled on it, surprisingly felt like the right one. 

You sat up in your bed and grabbed your phone off of your nightstand. You could hear the faint sounds of Talia doing something in the kitchen through your shut door, but you knew that it wasn’t her that was keeping you awake since you got in bed twenty minutes ago. Instead, it was your scattered thoughts and confused mind, both of which somehow suddenly felt a thousand percent certain about one thing, which should’ve felt comforting but it actually felt like the opposite. 

You pressed call on Steve’s contact name before you could talk yourself out of it. 

“Hey,” His voice sounded sleepy when he answered after the third ring, which let you know that you’d woken him up. A part of you felt bad, and you wanted to hang up after saying the quickest “Sorry” to him, but then you remembered why you were calling. 

“I can’t be friends with you,” You blurted it out, getting straight to the point because you couldn’t think of a different way to say it.  

“Oh…” He sounded confused, and rightfully so, you could recognize that this was probably the weirdest wake-up call ever. “Oh, okay.”

You could’ve simply ended it there and let the phone call be done with, no further explanation or anything so that you could save yourself from potential embarrassment. However, the whole Eddie situation taught you to be honest about how you’re feeling, and in this moment you suddenly felt so settled on doing so. 

“At least, I can't try to be your friend without telling you something first, I think,” You told him. “And I’m sorry, I know this probably sounds so random, but I can’t sleep because all I’ve been doing for the past few hours is thinking about this, so I think I just need to be honest right now.” 

You paused for a second, taking the quickest breath before speaking. “When we started the fake dating thing, we were pretty much strangers, and as it continued I thought that what we ended up forming was solely just some sort of unexpected friendship. And then when we were ending things, I convinced myself that what we had was actually absolutely nothing and we were just two people helping each other out. But then today at the library I realized that it really wasn’t fake for me, and it wasn’t just a friendship either. It’s so much more than that for me. I like you, Steve.” 

Out of everything you had just said, those last four words were definitely the hardest. It felt simultaneously good and bad. So honest that your initial instinct was telling you to take it back, but as the statement settled in the air, you felt entirely okay about it and it made it feel easier to continue talking. 

“And I know that it's probably not the same for you because you don’t do relationships and that was the whole point of the fake dating thing for you. I know that. And that's why I refused to accept these feelings or even admit them to myself in the first place.” You let your head fall back against your pillow and you squeezed your eyes shut as you forced yourself to keep going. “So I know that you’re probably gonna say that you don’t feel the same way and that’s okay; or it’ll eventually be okay, I guess, because rejection does suck. But this whole Eddie thing made me realize that maybe I should just be honest about my feelings, so this is me doing that…” You trailed off and then softly said, “Okay, sorry, I’m done talking now.”

Steve was quiet for a bit— it was actually a lot more than just a bit. It was so long that it made you think that he hung up or the call somehow ended, but then he was saying something.

“You should come to Europe with me this summer.”

That was not at all the response you were expecting to hear at that moment, and you had no idea what that response meant. Was it just a nice way of rejecting you or did he maybe feel the same way? 

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” He said and somehow you could almost hear him shaking his head at himself. “I’m not used to doing this anymore.”

There was something about the way he said his statement that made you think that he was rejecting you, or at least trying to. And because of that, you quickly tried to make everything fine and okay and normal. “It’s, um... It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. Things will be okay with us. We can still be, uh, friends or whatever.”

“No, no that’s not what I meant,” He told you, and you could feel your heart fill with something that resembled hope. “I do. I do feel the same way. None of it was fake for me either, and it didn’t take me that long after Mexico and the rest of spring break to finally realize that. The night we “broke up” was actually pretty hard, and it also felt kind of wrong, if that makes sense. I tried to forget about it, though, because of the Eddie part of all of this and what we both agreed on at the beginning of everything.”

“When I finally accepted it today, I tried to push it all away too,” You said. “It was really hard to do, though— literally impossible, actually. Hence why I woke you up and had to tell you all of this in the middle of the night.”

“I get it. I’m just way too likable.”

“Shut up,” You said, but you were smiling.  

“It’s the same for you too, though. You’re also really likable. I like you a lot,” Steve told you, and his words sounded so certain and honest that it made your heart do a weird fluttery thing that also wiped your brain of the ability to form any sort of coherent sentence. He then let out the quickest breath of a laugh. “It feels so weird doing this over the phone.”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you and your next words came out with no hesitation. “You should come over.”

He was quiet just for a second before he said, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You answered, voice just as soft and quiet as his. 

“Okay,” He said, and you could practically hear him nodding. 

“Okay, cool,” You responded, trying to be normal and chill about everything, even though your heart felt as if it was about to burst out of your chest in nervous but excited anticipation of seeing him again and talking about everything in person. “See you soon then.”

When the call ended, you simply didn’t do anything for a moment. The same happy smile was on your face and you couldn’t seem to wipe it away, and you honestly didn’t even want to. 

And then you were abruptly thinking about what you were wearing and wondering if it was okay. But, was there even any point in changing out of your slightly wrinkled t-shirt and pajama shorts?

You weren’t entirely sure, but you still got up from your bed and turned on your light, and then headed toward your closet. 

You were halfheartedly picking through your clothes and making mental comments about everything— a dress felt like overkill and putting on jeans would be too annoying— when something hit you on the head and made you yelp. You looked down and saw that it was Hartford; he had previously been sitting on the shelf above your clothes. You picked him up and placed him back on your desk— his rightful place, you decided. 

You also decided that what you were wearing was fine. It obviously made sense for the middle of the night and you’d only feel severely underdressed if Steve showed up wearing a suit, which sounded completely ridiculous. 

The abrupt sound of something crashing in the kitchen pulled you out of your head and you left your room to make sure Talia was fine. You didn’t immediately see her when you looked over at the kitchen, but when you said, “Everything okay?” her head popped up from behind the counter. 

“Yeah, I’m good. Shit, sorry, did I wake you up?” She asked and then sighed. “The mixer was hidden behind a thousand other things, so when I pulled it out, some pans fell.”

You could hear her fixing the pans and then she stood up.

“No, I was already awake,” You answered as you walked toward her. It was way too hard to not let yourself smile as you said your next words. “Steve’s, um, Steve’s coming over.”

She stopped in the middle of looking for something in the fridge and instead turned to you, the happiest smile on her face. “Oh my god, finally! I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since you got back from that date with Adam. I could just tell there was something so different about you and Steve.”

You shook your head as you laughed a bit. “You couldn’t have known about how I felt about Steve then. I barely knew.”

“Of course, I knew. I’m a Psych major for a reason,” She told you, which only made you laugh again. “But, I obviously wasn’t gonna tell you. You had to get there on your own. I’m so glad it didn’t take months, though, and I actually get to see this happen before I graduate and leave.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and then shifted the subject. “What are you making?”

“I’m kinda still deciding. It’ll either be a two-layered cake, cupcakes, or this tart recipe that I just saw,” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to do anything to take my mind off this one final that I’ve been studying for all day.”

That made sense to you. Last semester during the week leading up to finals, she made a fresh batch of cookies every night.

“Maybe I’ll do a cake,” She said, a small teasing smile on her face. “A celebratory one for you and Steve. I’ll frost it white and write ‘Congrats, Lovebirds’ on it in red. Shit, I hope there’s still food coloring left.”

You immediately shook your head. “Please don’t do that. Before when things were fake, you guys couldn’t scare him off, now it definitely could happen.”

“Fine, I’ll just make a completely normal white cake that has absolutely nothing to do with you and Steve. But, deep down, both you and I know the truth.”

You couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Thank you.”

She finished grabbing the eggs from the fridge and you headed to the couch, knowing that she liked working alone in the kitchen. A part of you wanted to turn on the TV, but you weren’t in the mood to put on a movie or anything.

You heard Talia hum to herself as she started measuring flour and sugar and then cracking eggs. 

It was calming to see her completely in her element with her thoughts focused solely on one thing. Your thoughts didn’t have something specific to focus on, so they instead focused on Steve. Him and you and you two together. Well, together, but not really because nothing was settled yet. So, right now, in this moment, you two were just friends. Or was that not even an accurate description either? 

“Get out of your head.”

You looked over at Talia, wondering how long she’d been watching you and seeing you starting to inwardly spiral. “How could you tell?”

“Once again, Psych major for a reason,” She said, giving you a small smile. “Stop thinking so hard about everything right now. It’s all gonna be great when he gets here. Hey, just tell me a story. A random one. First thing that comes to you.” 

You thought for a second and then went with the first thing that came to your mind just like Talia said; a quick story about a summer camp that you went to when you were ten. It was almost too easy to think of things to talk about involving the month-long sleep away camps or short stints at super niche-specific camps that your parents found for you. 

The knock on the door came when you were in the middle of telling Talia about a different summer, a theater camp you were forced to go to for two weeks when you were twelve. 

You quickly got to the end of the story as you walked over to the door. “Long story short, the whole show was canceled due to the pregnancy rumor.” 

Talia shook her head in disbelief. “No way.”

“Yeah, it was insane. Spoiler alert, though, she wasn’t pregnant. Thank god. But, that was when I learned how ruthless theater kids are.” 

You pulled the door open after letting out a soft laugh at Talia sighing and saying, “Children are evil.” 

You wanted to be normal about seeing Steve standing in front of you right then— really, you did— but it was too hard to. He was sporting messy bedhead, sweatpants, and a t-shirt that matched yours with how wrinkled it was. It looked as if he had rushed to get here, which was actually true given the fact that he managed to turn a typical thirty-minute drive into twenty minutes.

“Hi,” You said, a fresh wave of giddiness hitting you immediately and it was hard to contain the smile tugging at your lips. 

He didn’t hesitate to match it. “Hey.”

You both simply smiled at each other like idiots for a few moments. Talia was right.  

The sound of the oven beeping followed by Talia saying, “How long it takes for the oven to preheat is the one thing that I’m really not gonna miss about this place,” seemed to pull you both out of your lovestruck trance.  

“Hi, sorry, come in,” You said to Steve, pushing the door open further so that he could step inside and then you closed it behind him. “Talia’s baking a cake.”

“A completely normal cake,” She told him and you immediately gave her a look. “Anyway, nice to see you again, Steven.”

“You, too,” He said. “What makes it normal?” 

“Nothing. Please ignore what she just said,” You told him, and then didn’t think too much as you grabbed his hand and led him toward your room. You didn’t realize what you’d done until your door was shut behind you both and your hand was still holding his— it didn’t feel entirely wrong, though. 

You noticed him look at your desk. “You still have Hartford.”

You let go of his hand as you went over to grab the small bear. “Of course, I do. I hope you still have Bowie.” 

“Of course,” He said, smiling and matching your certain tone. 

“Thinking about it now, I feel like that whole Valentine’s night should’ve sealed the deal for me. It was literally a date,” You said, letting out a laugh as you placed Hartford back down on your desk.

Thinking back to Valentine’s Day also made you abruptly remember that that was also the night he told you about him not wanting anything serious and finally explaining the “why” behind it too. And it was then that you realized that just because he had feelings for you didn’t necessarily mean that his mindset on relationships had changed too. 

You were rushing to continue and verbalize that before Steve could say anything. “And I completely get it if all of this doesn’t really change anything. Because none of this means that how you view love and relationships has changed. Not saying that you love me or anything but–”

He cut off your rambling with a head shake. “Hey, no, this is so different. I want everything with you.” It was hard not to become shy under his gaze, especially as he said those words, but you still refused to look away from him as he kept talking. 

“You kind of changed it all for me. I was scared of it before, I think— of doing anything serious and letting anyone in because I just assumed that I’d end up getting heartbroken again. But, with you, it never really felt like that; scary or anything. I think that when we were stuck at my place during the power outage and just talking, deep down I knew that things with you were gonna be different or already were; it didn’t feel weird or scary getting deep with you or letting you in. Same thing with that night in Mexico when we were eating cereal and talking about all of that serious stuff. It took a while for me to actually admit what all of those things meant, though.”

Hearing him say that made you think about when he proposed the fake dating thing, when he said that guys are dumb and it takes them a while to realize things. Thinking about those words now made you smile. 

“Guys are stupid,” You said. “You’re the one that told me that.” 

Steve nodded, laughing a little. “We are. That’s still very true.”

“I was also stupid. I avoided everything for a long time too.”

“Glad to know we’re both idiots then,” He said, which made you smile wider. 

For a second, nothing else was said; it honestly felt as if nothing else really needed to be said right then. You weren’t sure if it was you or him that closed most of the distance between you two— perhaps it was both of you. Either way, a silent agreement to push things further was made as your arms came up to loosely circle his neck and his hands found your waist. 

It was you who didn’t waste a second to turn that final bit of space between you into nothing. You leaned in slowly, though, nose brushing against his before softly finding his lips. 

It was simply just a peck at first, a chaste kiss just to test the waters and define this moment as different from the other few times that this had happened. You both knew that this was entirely different. It wasn’t good but confusing like during the blind date, and it wasn’t for show like the times in Mexico. This first kiss was right, and as simple and brief as it was, it felt damn near perfect.  

When you pulled away after just a second, Steve didn’t hesitate to lean right back in, quickly letting his mouth find yours again. One of his hands left your waist and came up to cup your cheek instead. That soft touch grounded you, it kept you steady and it also did something to your heart; made it start thumping wildly in your chest.

There was no part of you that wanted this moment to end, you wanted to live in it for as long as you could and memorize every single part of it. The way your fingers so easily found home in the hair at the nape of his neck. His warm hand on your waist that you could practically feel through your t-shirt. How it was almost like a dance happening as Steve guided you back against your shut door, pressing you against it, and you used that as the opportunity to pull him impossibly closer to you. 

It didn’t take long for you two to end up in your bed; you quickly became too tired of standing and the doorknob poking into your side became too uncomfortable. 

Your legs were on either side of his lap and he was leaning back against the headboard, pulling you toward him. It felt like you were two teenagers who had just discovered what making out was. And it also felt as if you both were in agreement about feeling like you two had wasted so much time not kissing over the last month of not talking to each other and since you two met that you were trying to make up for all of that lost time. 

When you pulled away to catch your breath, Steve’s lips found your neck, and your eyes immediately slipped shut.

“I meant what I said before,” He mumbled against your skin, but you heard him clearly. 

Your eyes were still contentedly closed as you asked, “Meant what?”

“That you should come to Europe with me this summer.”

You let out a soft laugh that quickly turned into a sigh of contentment when his lips found a particularly sensitive part of your neck. “You’re insane.”

“Insanely serious,” Steve said in between kisses. 

You pulled back then to look at him— it was hard to do, you really didn’t want to pull away, but reluctantly you did. You wanted to gauge how serious he was actually being right then, and you could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t joking. 

His hands found yours and intertwined them. “Say yes.”

How happy he sounded rubbed off on you and you had to bite your lip to suppress your growing smile. “I’ll think about it.”

“That sounds like a yes to me,” He said, still smiling as he leaned in to kiss you. 

You pulled away after the briefest second. “I’m serious.” You weren’t at all. “I gotta make a pro and con list to make sure this is the right decision.” 

“Okay, I’m already thinking of a bunch of pros to add to the list,” Steve told you and then gave you a playful smile. “I can’t think of any cons, though, so...” He finished off with a shrug that made you laugh. 

Weirdly enough, no cons were coming to your mind right then either. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

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[yesimwriting]

okay but after the whole lucy gray thing we know coryo was done with “love” and everything BUT what if during the following year of thg he ends up falling in love with another tribute also from district 12 and he’s just going through it bad (again) however he somehow ends up actually getting the girl in the end, maybe even buying her way into the capitol

A/n I've been thinking about a very specific part of this since i first read it but i told myself no more fic writing until i finished at least one of my essays for finals seasons 😭

also ik in the book (and it's implied in the movie) that after the events of the book he lives with the plinths, but let's pretend he lives on his own with access to the plinth fortune for privacy

ik that makes it sound like it's smutty, but it's not lol

----

Proximity aggravates distance. The closer you are to something, the more damage any remaining space causes.

The few feet dividing the two of you have no right to jab at something inside of him the way it does. It's bad enough that instead of going to bed after a long night of fulfilling his apprenticeship duties under Volumnia's watchful eye, he stopped by your apartment. Only one floor away from his.

For months, the only thing holding the two of you together had been memories of those few nights before the Games.

Coriolanus's attempt to remain indifferent towards you had quickly failed, and his backup plan of learning to loathe you had proven to be just as useless. So he settled on letting you unabashedly take his hand whenever fear overwhelmed you and committing the way your kind eyes watched him to memory.

You're looking around the room--his room--openly, eyes darting from the mahogany surface of his desk to the details elegantly carved into his bed frame.

His fingertips itch with the uncertain desire to reach for you. You've only been in the Capitol for about a day and a half. Less than 48 hours. But the move, the beginning of a program for certain, qualifying victors and their families, had been planned for months.

You shouldn't feel like a phantom that'll vanish if he lets go for too long. "What are you thinking about?"

The question grounds you the same way it did last time he asked. You do your best to hide it, but you're still adjusting, still surprised that he managed to find a way to bring you together again. Just like he promised. Your doubt isn't personal, a fact he has to remind himself of.

"I'm just..." You tilt your head slightly, gaze retreating from the royal blue wallpaper and silver trim of his bedroom walls, "Analyzing."

The comment is followed by an easygoing smile that pinches at something in his chest. His new apartment, the penthouse of one of the largest buildings in the city, another gift from the ever flowing well that is the Plinth fortune, still reeks of former poverty. The few things that hint at the personal are hidden behind layers of desperate wealth so thick the items might as well be standard.

A lifetime spent in 12 means that there's no way you can read between the lines. He can't decide if your perspective will make this room look worse or better. It's a nice bedroom, definitely grander than any bedroom you've stood in before...but it's understated. Maybe even disappointing to someone like you.

"Analyzing?"

You turn fully, "A bedroom says a lot about a person."

"You might get more out of analyzing my study," an oddly school boy worthy partial truth slips out before he can stop himself, "I think I've been spending more time there than here recently."

You shake your head once, eyes landing on the crimson red vase filed with crisp white roses his grandma'am had gifted him on his last visit. Her pride and joy now more than ever. "I'm seeing all I need."

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. It's the most genuine expression that's slipped past him in weeks. When he first worked out a way to bring you here, some doubting part of him wondered if the draw he felt towards you would still exist in person.

Less than two weeks after your victorious departure from the Capitol, he had searched through your files and found your address. He had written the letter in a moment of weakness and only sent it after deciding that writing a letter to never be sent is the only thing more pathetic than writing to you in the first place. He had spent the week following that wallowing in self loathing until an age-stained envelope arrived at his door.

"And what are you seeing?" He keeps his tone light. This is ridiculous. He dragged himself and his family out of a gutter clogged by the casualties of war. Coriolanus is stronger than fleeting emotion now. Your opinions on his room can't possibly affect him.

If he were to simplify what brought you here, to the Capitol, to him, he could blame it on his bedroom. The urge to see you, to figure out some way the two of you closer together before your undeserving district could swallow you whole in an attempt to make you like them, would flare up whenever he received one of your letters.

Those urges, however, had never burned him. Not until you wrote about wanting to see him out of the most curious nostalgia you'd ever felt. You wanted to see him in a way that'd let you know what his room looked like, in a way that'd let you guess at his favorite color.

He takes a few steps forward, making the conscious decision to not reach for you. You've never rejected his advances, not even when he instinctually intertwined your fingers after picking you and your family up from the train station. You had scolded him after, telling him that you'd hear no end of it from your mother. It took a lot of focus for Coriolanus to not smile at that. You spoke of it like it would've never occurred to you to just pull your hand away.

Your eyes shift from end of the room to the other. Coriolanus moves carefully, passing you before sitting at the edge of his crisply made bed.

"Before you make your decision..." You turn instinctually, expression so polite and expecting he almost doesn't know how to bear it. His hand briefly pats the space beside him in a silent invitation. "So you can see it from all perspectives."

Your head tilts slightly, and for a moment, Coriolanus can practically feel your rejection. Then you move, sock clad feet treading over smooth white-gray marble. You sit next to him so assuredly, anyone else would have taken the way you neatly fold your hands in your lap as politeness instead of a display of nerves.

Your family's presence makes you less pliable. It's a factor he's willing to work around considering that you would've never left them to come to the Capitol. And even if he had managed to talk you into it, your nostalgia and homesickness would've made you more of a ghost to him than before.

At least the position your family's in is uncertain enough to allow for some leeway in the social norms that you cling to. However, every once in awhile it hits you that at the end of the day, he's still a boy that you're close to, which means that it's your duty to create the distance necessary to keep everything proper. Leaving your bedroom in the middle of the night because said boy knocked at your door and then entering his room in his empty penthouse is something you would've done under normal circumstances.

But your connection isn't that black and white. If it was something so simple, he would have been able to sever it the night before your Games.

"It makes all the difference," you agree warmly, and only somewhat sarcastically. You give yourself another second to take in the space, "I like it."

He can tell that you mean it. "I haven't fully settled in yet."

You shrug, paying him little mind, "There's something about it that just feels like you."

Coriolanus shifts his focus to the ground. You can't possibly mean it in the way that he sees the room, as a reminder that he still doesn't fully fit into who he's become.

"I've been meaning to pick up a few things," he says, "Tomorrow, after my classes, I was thinking about browsing some paintings." Another half truth. He had been meaning to. Mrs. Plinth had instructed him to visit her art dealer whenever he had enough free time to pick out a few pieces to demonstrate his taste. He'd been putting it off as a dismissable task, but it feels like a safe way to give you your first taste of life in the Capitol. "If you'd like to help me pick some out."

You smile, eyebrows pinching together in a way that's just barely noticeable. You're as interested as you are puzzled. "I'd like that." Relaxing enough to let your hand rest between the two of you, you beam, "I don't know if I'd be much help, but I'd like that."

He'd be willing to get anything that caught your eye. Paintings and vases already with such an exclusive art dealer hold more or less the same level of standing, anyway.

Coriolanus moves his hand slowly, careful not to startle you before his fingers can settle against your own. You instinctually turn over your palm, intertwining your fingers. "I trust you."

You stare at him with wide, understanding eyes. Sometimes when you look at him, really look at him, Coriolanus is struck with the feeling that you can see right through him. It's an irrational feeling, that every good action and cruel deed is reflected in his eyes. Moments like this make it hard to be near you. They also, however, make the thought of adding distance between the two of you unbearable.

"I have an early class."

You dip your chin forward in an attempt to accept what you're considering a dismissal. "Right, you must be tired." The words sit between you for a long moment.

Your free hand presses into the silk of your still new pajamas. You shift like you're going to stand. His hold on your hand tightens before you can move away. You still.

He's being ridiculous. There's nothing about this situation that warrants his inability to look at you. "Stay here." His thumb runs across your knuckles. "With me."

The words are soft enough to be a request, but there's not enough space between them for questioning. He cautiously lifts his head enough to take in your reaction.

"What?" It's a display of shock more than an actual question. Coriolanus squeezes your hand even tighter. You don't try to get him to let go, but you do shift away just enough to create the reminder of distance. "You know I can't."

His other hand reaches forward, settling against your wrist. "Why not?" He doesn't mean for his voice to come off as raspy, as desperate as it does.

You swallow, attempting to straighten your spine in an attempt to offset the instinctual urge to hide your face. This isn't a topic you're even comfortable implying. "My mother would kill me if she so much as found out that I came up here so late, let alone..." You trail off, head dropping to your lap. "Stayed here."

He envelops your hand between both of his. "She knows we're friendly."

You look up just long enough to imply a pointed not that friendly. "It's--" You blink, eyes darting from to your joint hands and then finally to the ground. "You know it's..."

Coriolanus leans forward. The shift is small, just enough for his knee to brush against yours. "It's what?" He keeps his voice low, a barely there whisper that comes off as so innocent it nearly circles back to anything but.

You glance up, so wide eyed and flighty he's reminded of a rabbit. The level of precaution you're exuding can't just be about your mother's opinions, can it? He studies your expression openly, taking in the set of your eyebrows and the way you steadily press your lips together to avoid speaking without thinking. At least some part of you believes in your mother's concerns.

The realization strike shim so quickly he has to focus on keeping his expression neutral. Your bond is so much more than just coming together on a random night where exhaustion's already clouding his focus.

It will happen between the two of you. Eventually. But not yet. You've barely entered the Capitol and every aspect of your life has become vastly different than what you're accustomed to. If he were to attempt to cement any relationship between the two of you like that now, you'd be too overwhelmed or you might think that that's the only reason he brought you here.

He learned early on that it's best to introduce adjustments to you slowly, giving you enough time to hold onto ideas before enacting them. Anything of that nature would work that way too.

"I haven't been able to see much of you." He focuses on your hand, still resting safely between both of his. The words came out too quickly, a flash of some genuine sort of emotion that claw at him on the way out. With you, sometimes a glimpse of feeling works wonders.

Your thumb draws gentle patterns against the side of his hand. "You're busy." He relaxes his hand, turning over his palm. You place his hand on your knee, fingers tracing the natural creases etched into his skin. "You're important."

The way that last word comes out makes an uncertain warmth crawl up his neck. "I--I've wanted to see you more." Another thing he means so much it turns his stomach to admit it.

Your nail drags down a line that cuts across the length of his hand. "Me too."

He bends his fingers slowly, moving in until he's trapped your pointer finger against his palm. "Then stay." You twist your finger enough to express some lighthearted irritation, but not enough to count as a real attempt at escaping. "If your mother says anything, I'll explain it to her." You glare at him without any true aggression. "She likes me, doesn't she?"

Coriolanus already knows the answer. She credits your survival to him. You had mentioned that in a letter once, telling him that she insisted you pass along her gratitude after discovering that the two of you had started to correspond regularly.

He also saw the way she reacted to realizing that she had made it to the Capitol. Your mother's family had once been part of the wealthier side of 12. You're part of a recently fallen line of mine owners, a fact that your mother has only pretended to let go of. He saw a hunger behind her eyes that reminded him of a warped version of his own.

Coriolanus gave her back the pride the war had stolen from her family name tenfold. He owes her this much.

"She'd trade me for you in a heartbeat." He hears the grin in your voice more than he sees it. Your family means the world to you, which means he's subjected himself to seeking your mother's validation and winning over your two younger sisters.

It's not the way he'd choose to spend his limited free time, especially with you standing right there, but he's endured worse for less of a pay off. "Then she'd be a fool."

You fight to hold his gaze. "I doubt that."

Your eyes are pools of honest, unfiltered affection. The care that you're watching him with makes it hard to swallow. The instinct to press, to dig and claw and tear anything that could be hiding an ulterior motive into shreds makes it hard to take a full breath. You've always worn your heart on your sleeve. You're not a flighty songbird that uses its charm to distract its prey from its fang-like talons.

"Stay." Again. So breathless he almost doesn't recognize the word as his own.

The deliberation is transparent behind your eyes. You're considering it, but you're still not convinced. The hesitation stings in a way he doesn't understand. "I don't want to give her a reason to not like you."

So softly spoken he's shocked by the way the words manage to feel like a nail being hammered into his chest.

"She's let you stay with other people before." The response is too sharp, too sudden. He should refocus and think through what he's about to say. Coriolanus knows that it's easier to get you to agree to something through the use of honey sweetened words and displays of patience. "You wrote about him."

The confusion that briefly etches its way into your expression threatens to quell the uncomfortable swell of jealousy tightening his chest. "Warren?" The name makes tints the air between you with something acidic. "That was--different."

Your explanation adds an edge to the pressure in his chest. "Why?"

"We weren't--" You cut yourself off, the instinct to placate him and your desire to not start a conversation you can't finish battling each other oddly. "We were never alone." You squeeze his hand as best as you can. "He's a family friend and I only stayed over when my mom had to work late and I was too young to be alone for so long, so I haven't stayed over in years. And--and he shared a room with three of his siblings and his parents checked on us constantly."

He frowns, unconvinced. The lack of approval has you clinging to him, adjusting your hold on his hand as you gently trail your knuckles against the inside of his wrist. "I do miss you." You stare at your hands. "I know it's weird because we're--y'know--closer than before, but I-I do miss you."

The expanding wave of tension in his chest begins to deflate. You're good at that, at redirecting and soothing without even realizing it. A talent that had contributed to his original desire to loathe you. "I understand that." He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "Things aren't going to get less busy. That's why I want to use all the time we have."

You nod slowly, a hint of understanding making its appearance in the set of your brow. "I know."

"What you wrote," he begins, too aware of how much he means the question that follows, "Did you mean it."

"Of course I did." Not an ounce of hesitation, of uncertainty.

He turns your hand over before shifting his fingers up the inside of your wrist. "You wrote about wanting to see me."

"I did..." The pad of his thumb gently makes its way up your forearm. Your even breathing falters. "I do."

Coriolanus lets himself look up just enough to take in your expression. "Then stay." He swallows, too aware of the sudden dryness of his mouth. "Please."

You glance up at him through your lashes. There's a softness there that jabs at him. "Okay."

He lifts the back of your hand, carefully brushing his lips against your skin. "You mentioned wanting to see a library."

You wrote about it once. A brief mention in one of your letters of the small room in your school's office that served as a sort of communal study space with a few books stacked on a small shelf. Your longing had been clear.

Nodding curiously, you agree, "Yeah?"

"I could leave for my classes a little earlier tomorrow, you could come with me." The proposal comes out slowly, his own suggestion taking him by surprise. "My driver could bring you back, that'll give you time to meet the tutor that's being sent over for your sisters, and then when I get back we'll look at the paintings."

You immediately grin, "Really?"

He finds himself smiling back, pulling your arm closer. "Whatever you want."

You beam. "I'd really like that."

"Good," he affirms with a nod of his head that's a touch too forward. He regrets it almost immediately. "If you like it, I might be able to get your own tutor to meet you at a library."

Part of the still uncertain victor program relies on setting up the victor and their family with a new life. Education plays a role in that. Placing any one of you in an actual Capitol run institution is far out of the question. For everyone's sake. Even if the thought of sharing a classroom with someone from 12 didn't horrify the Capitol parents, you and your siblings wouldn't be able to just jump in. It's not that he views you as unintelligent, but District 12's education system isn't exactly on par with the Capitol's.

"That sounds nice," you sit up a little straighter, excited by the prospect, "A part of me kind of misses school."

Another aspect of your personality that he had learned about after your Games. You like school for the sake of it. "I'll check on the arrangements tomorrow."

He clears his throat before you can do more than just nod, "It's getting late."

Coriolanus carefully sets your hand down on the comforter. You awkwardly shift, now more aware of what you agreed to than ever. "Right," you push yourself to stand, "You need your sleep."

He pulls back his sheets before you can think about it even further. You crawl into the provided space without looking at anything in particular. He's quick to join you beneath the safety of plush bedding before leaning over and turning off the bedside lamp.

Darkness floods the space. There's something about the absence of light that makes things feel heavier. The potential intimacy of the situation sneaks up on him with no warning.

This isn't a loss of control. It can't be. It was his idea, he had pushed and convinced you to stay here. He's aware of everything that's led up to this moment, but that's not enough to stop him from wondering if this is something than he should have known better than to embrace. He had accepted the familiar, fickle knotting of his stomach once before.

Steady warmth presses itself against his arm. He blinks, head turning a second too quickly. Your hand has found his. Coriolanus relaxes, allowing himself to fully relax against his pillow. You pick up on his shift, reflecting it by laying down as well.

For someone that had been so hesitant, you seem to know what to do better than he does. You pull his arm towards you, gently trailing your fingers against the exposed skin. Heat crawls up his neck.

"Goodnight," you mumble, voice already drowsy.

Coriolanus lets out a long breath. He grasps your hand, bringing it back to his lips before settling back into the position the two of you were in before. "Goodnight."

[forjongseong]

the reward // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: student!jay x tutor!fem!reader

genre: campus!au, smut (minors dni) // warning: older reader, they call reader "Noona", profanity, mentions of studying (lol), Heeseung makes an appearance, the rest of hyung-line are mentioned, making out, a lot of making out, just making out, fingering, protected sex (because Jay is responsible) // wc: ~9.5k

summary: you teach for a living, and you had been picking up tutoring since the extra money wasn't that bad. most of your meetings consist of essay-writing, mock tests, and speaking exercises; so when Jay became your student, you weren't expecting the lessons to include rewards.

author’s note: what?? two fics in the span of three days? with this I announce my retirement...

just kidding I STILL HAVE the secretary!Jay series to finish so I won't be retiring soon. this one is based on the rimless glasses series which is like, a random note I made for my wips, and believe it or not, while I made Bite Me sit and marinate on the shelf for so long, I finished this fic below within seven hours. yes, sometimes I am very motivated.

ANYWAY since I kept getting ideas for this one, I decided to sit down and write everything in one go, because if I pause to pick it up later I end up feeling not that confident with my work.

with that being said, I totally loved this one, so I hope you guys will enjoy it AS MUCH AS I DID writing it.

special mention to @excusememissiloveyou who was there the whole time virtually giving me mental support and good reactions

taglist: @thots4hee @end-hyphen @nyanggk @yoursjaeyun @maggstar @bucketofhiros @dimplejaehyuncutie @shinkenprincess-oh @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy @strawberrification12 @xiaoderrrr

You took the last sip of your latte as you tried to hold in your laughter. You then carefully swallowed your drink before chuckling and putting your cup back on the table, and then swatting the guy in front of you for cracking a joke and deliberately trying to make you laugh and choke at the same time.

“No, but seriously, thank you,” Heeseung said, tapping his fingers on the table. “I reached my target score.”

“What was it again?” You asked, at the same time unlocking your phone to check the time.

“7.5,” he answered.

You frowned. “That’s literally the same score you had before you took lessons with me, is it not?”

Heeseung nodded. “But without your help, I probably would have scored lower. Thanks for all the practice. And your time.”

You smiled and waved your hand, pretending to be humble. “Well, you’re welcome. I’m just doing what I get paid for.”

This time Heeseung was the one who chuckled, and before he could say another word you had to excuse yourself because it was time for your afternoon class.

“I’ll make the transfer tonight,” Heeseung said as he stood up, collecting the used napkins on the table. “Oh, by the way, Noona, I gave your number to my friend. He said he needs a tutor too. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Sure, you can broadcast my number to everyone who needs a tutor, to be honest. I’d love the extra money.”

Heeseung snickered and waited for you to start walking. He sped up and held the door open for you as you both exited the café.

“What’s his name? Or her, sorry, I just assumed.” You fixed your bag’s strap on your shoulder before taking out your phone again.

“Jay. He’s a med student too. We’re in the same class.” Heeseung started typing on his phone. “I’ve just let him know that you know he’s going to text you.”

“Awesome,” you said with a smile. “I’ll see you around, Heeseung. Good luck with the semester abroad.”

---

The waitress eyed the empty plates you had set aside before you started scrolling on your phone, and when you made eye contact with her you nodded, and she immediately took the plates away. You then placed an order for a cold drink since you were sure your new student was going to be running late.

“Punctuality,” you sighed to yourself, “should literally be counted in every single score…”

You heard the bell chiming as someone entered the restaurant, and your eyes immediately fell on him. The guy had his hair slicked back with a couple of strands hanging on his forehead, he was wearing a white button-down with a suede jacket on top, and the straight-cut pants he was wearing made you want to ask him where it was from.

“Y/N Noona,” he greeted you with confidence before you could even stand up, “Sorry, I’m late.”

“Hi, Jay,” you watched as he took his backpack off and set it on the chair beside him. He then sat down and looked at you with a huge smile.

The fuck? What is he so attractive for? You thought, smiling back.

“I didn’t know this place existed on campus,” he began, initiating small talk. His eyes were scanning the place, and as he looked around in wonder you thought for a second that he looked like a majestic black cat. And you love cats.

“Yeah,” you said before the silence became too loud. “It’s my favorite place to grab lunch or to hold private sessions like this. So, what do you need an IELTS score for?”

“Same as Heeseung,” Jay answered you only after he looked around for a waiter. He quickly placed his order and refocused his attention back on you. “Did you order yet?” He asked, sounding concerned as he looked around and saw nothing in front of you.

Your drink order arrived, and you thanked the waitress in a whisper and a smile, and you made an effort to explain yourself before Jay started to speculate.

“I already ate, and this is my dessert,” you said, turning the cup around and making sure it was the right order. “You can go ahead and eat while I answer any questions you might have about our lessons.”

“Right,” Jay shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. “So, I want to get a higher score than Heeseung, but I’ve never taken the test before, so how many meetings do you think we should have so I can achieve that?”

Confident, curious, and ambitious, you thought. You could definitely work with him.

“Alright,” you began, clearing the space in front of you and taking out your notebook and a pen.

You spent the next two hours talking to Jay, mostly stuff regarding lesson plans, but after that, you asked him about his studies, and he also asked you about your experiences and your current work. He mentioned the names of the students you had previously tutored, Jake and Sunghoon, and only then did you learn that the four of them must have their own clique.

“Where do you usually have your lessons with them?” Jay asked, wiping his mouth with a clean napkin after he finally finished his meal.

“Since they’re only available in between my classes, I usually ask them to go to cafes around the campus,” you replied. “I literally just go where I am asked, though. You guys are the students, so.”

“Can I pick the place for our next meeting?” Jay asked, grabbing his phone. “I’ll match your schedule first.”

You opened your calendar on your bullet journal and started jotting down Jay’s availability while he typed in your schedule on his phone.

“Right, so on Tuesday, since you only have a morning class, let’s have lunch at this place, hold on,” Jay said, eyes glued to his phone as he pulled up a website of the place he was referring to. “Here.”

You craned your neck to look at Jay’s phone, and when you read the address, you tilted your head. “I don’t know, it doesn’t seem like it’s walking distance from campus.”

“Oh, I’ll pick you up.” Jay blinked at you innocently. “I’ll drive you back to campus too. Or your home?”

“Campus is fine, I carpool with my brother,” you quickly replied. “Thank you.”

Jay shrugged and checked the time on his watch. “We’re done here, right?”

You nodded. “Unless you have more questions?”

He smiled and shook his head, and you hated the way you thought he was just so damn handsome. He then stood up and made his way to the booth, and you saw him take out his wallet while gesturing to your table. When he walked back to his seat, you leaned in and whispered.

“Did you just pay for my meal?” You asked, trying to be discreet.

“Why are you whispering? Of course, I did,” Jay replied, also whispering to match your energy.

You chuckled and mouthed a ‘thank you’ before you stood up, and you were slightly surprised at how fast he walked ahead of you just to hold the door open.

“I’ll see you Tuesday?” Jay asked, stretching out his hand.

You realized he was going for a handshake, so you took his hand. His fingers grabbed your hand firmly and you had to hold in a wince.

“Tuesday,” you replied, keeping your cool. “Bye, Jay.”

---

After a couple of meetings with Jay, you realized that the guy had grown on you and that he might be your favorite student ever if you were even allowed to have one. Skill-wise, he needed a lot of help, but he was a quick learner, and he took all your advice seriously, putting it into action almost immediately and showing up with instant results.

“Can I ask you what your thought process is like when you write an argumentative essay like this?” You said previously on your second meeting with him, at a café that he picked out.

“I look at the topic and begin writing, and I just… write as I go,” he answered truthfully.

You sighed and he took a quick glance at your face. “See, that’s where you’re wrong.”

You began explaining how outlining an essay was essential to make sure you can get your points across, and as you were speaking you kept looking at your notes, his hands, the window, and everything else except his face. But you can feel his eyes glued to yours. He attended every single meeting with the type of energy that you had never found before in any of your other students, and somehow, he just exudes positivity and passion.

During the meeting after that, he handed you over his homework, along with an extra essay that was written according to your input. He could not hide his stupid grin every time you complimented a sentence structure, and for the first time, you finally made him speechless.

“Thank you,” you said after ending your feedback.

Jay tilted his head and frowned. “What for?”

“For taking my input seriously,” you continued.

Jay became even more confused. “Isn’t that what students do?”

You scoffed and shook your head. “A lot of my students don’t.”

“Well, they’re just dumb, then.”

Your mouth hung open in shock at Jay’s sudden insult, and he found your face hilarious that he just had to cackle, his laugh echoing throughout the place. You covered your mouth and giggled silently, helplessly smacking his arm so he would quiet down.

On your fourth meeting, you requested to have the lesson at the campus café since you had to go home as soon as your session with him ended. This time, however, he was running late, and you had to spend a couple of minutes alone chugging down your latte to stay awake.

“Noona, I’m so sorry,” Jay said as soon as pulled the chair beside you. He sat down and started complaining. “My professor just announced this urgent assignment that we had to do, and…”

The annoyance that came with almost being stood up evaporated completely when you heard Jay yapping about what happened in his class. Maybe you were just too tired to be angry, or maybe you were just happy to see him.

“Shall we just practice Speaking then for now?” You asked after he finished his explanation.

Jay nodded quickly. “Anything you want. Do you want me to order another drink for you?”

“It’s fine, calm down,” you said, chuckling lightly. “Alright, let me look for a topic.”

You quickly browsed your phone and began asking him questions. You made a gesture and pointed to his phone, signaling him to record himself speaking, so he did so without breaking eye contact with you. For the next part, you picked a topic that required him to talk about a close friend, and as he began to elaborate on his answer, it was your turn to look at him intently.

“What I like about her is,” Jay spoke in the middle of his answer. He then paused as if he was searching for the right word to use, but you were feeling sleepy and goofy, so you interrupted him.

“Her smile?” You asked in a teasing tone before you started laughing.

Jay became flustered and quickly waved both his hands to deny your guess. “No, not that!”

He then joined you laughing, and you had to apologize for stretching the time limit he had. You then asked him to continue and wrap up, and after that you immediately gave feedback. However, when you were speaking you got tongue-tied a lot, and you kept saying the wrong words or taking too long to find one.

“Noona, if you’re really tired, we can end the class early, I don’t mind,” Jay said calmly, looking at you with concern but also smiling like he somehow found you adorable.

“No!” You said with an unreasonable tone of refusal. Jay flinched in his seat from how loud you spoke. “No, you already came late, so I’m not cutting this meeting even shorter.”

“Alright,” Jay chuckled to himself. He looked to the ground and saw that you had your shoes off.

Eventually, you gave him constructive feedback and even managed to pull up the previous essay he had written and gave him pointers on the spot. When it was time to wrap up, Jay cleared his throat before proposing an idea.

“Noona,” he began, “can we have the next meeting at my place?”

“Sure,” you replied without hesitation. “What’s the name of the café this time?”

Jay smiled and shook his head. “I meant my place, as in, my house.”

“Oh?” You paused and let your hand hover over your book, trying to formulate a response. “Uhm, I have never—”

“If you feel uncomfortable, it’s fine. We can go to another place. You can choose!” Jay quickly revised his statement, worried that he made the wrong decision of even voicing his idea.

“Well, where do you live?” You asked, genuinely curious.

“Not walking distance from campus,” Jay said with a smile. “But again, I’ll drive you there and back. I live alone, it’s my parents' house, but they’re currently living in another city to take care of their business, so they left the house to me. And we won’t be alone, I’ve got some workers who are doing renovations, so…”

You realized how flustered he became, and by now you already know that Jay tends to say a lot of words when he was nervous, so to save him from further embarrassment, you nodded. His eyes lit up when he finally got an answer from you.

“I’ll text you when you can pick me up,” you said. “Don’t be late.”

Jay licked his lips before grinning widely. “I won’t.”

---

You were lounging on a huge sofa, a couple of pillows under your head and between your legs, and you winced as you heard the sound of ongoing construction outside the house. You glanced over to Jay, who had his eyebrows knitted and his rimless bluelight filter glasses perched on his nose, studiously reading the questions on his laptop screen. The noise-canceling headphones you brought proved to be useful, as he seemed to stay focused really well, and you wondered why he did not own a pair.

After introducing the idea of taking mock tests online and reviewing them right away, you ended up staying for longer hours whenever your meetings were held at Jay’s place, and when you first came there, one of the workers mistook you for Jay’s girlfriend. You then began to wonder if he had brought home other girls as well.

“Noona,” Jay called for you, breaking your chain of thoughts. “There’s no way I can answer this one correctly.”

Jay pulled his headphones down and gestured for you to sit next to him, so you did, and he pushed his laptop to your side so you can see its screen better. He was complaining about the true-false-not given questions, and he was getting frustrated because he could not tell the difference between false and not-given.

As you began to explain, Jay pulled the laptop closer to his side again, and you wanted him to read but also listen at the same time, so instead of pulling it closer to you, you moved closer to him. You ended up sitting closer to the coffee table and closer to the screen, with Jay sitting right behind you.

“So, if you see this passage here, the third paragraph,” you said, pointing at the screen. You did not hear a reply. “Jay?”

“Sorry,” Jay quickly replied, shaking his head. “Sorry, I zoned out. You smell so good.”

You were not going to let Jay see you blush, so you merely chuckled and cleared your throat. “Okay, moving on.”

You continued explaining, and Jay kept responding to you with one-word answers or mere hums, and you thought as long as he was paying attention, you did not need to check on him.

Little did you know that as you were speaking, his eyes were scanning your whole body. He leaned in ever so slightly to take in your scent better, and he noticed how sheer the button-down you were wearing was. He could barely see the outline of your light blue bra strap, and as you adjusted your position, he realized he was leaning in too close, so he quickly backed away before he got caught.

“Do you get it now?” You asked, looking back at him.

Jay was leaning against the sofa, a fair distance from you, but his eyes were focused on your lips, and that was a hard thing not to notice. To be frank, you were fighting yourself and trying to regulate your heartbeat whenever it beat faster when he came a little too close to you, and now you were beginning to think that the feeling might be mutual.

“Jay?” You asked. You then waved your hand in front of his face. “You seem out of it—”

You could not finish your sentence as you were in shock from the way his hand grabbed your wrist. You froze instantly, and your heart was beating even faster than when he was up close.

“Sorry,” Jay said, clearing his throat. He lowered your hand and let go of your wrist. “Sorry about that.”

“We can end the session now if you don’t feel well—”

“Noona,” he interrupted, “don’t end it now.”

“Okay,” you replied as you shifted in your seat and turned to face him. “How can I help you understand this better?”

Jay licked his lips and looked at the screen before looking at you, and within a short moment, he was flipping coins in his head, trying to imagine the different possible outcomes that would happen if he suggested what he was thinking the whole time.

“If I get the answer right,” he began, “would you show me your boobs?”

The question came out of nowhere and your immediate response was to laugh out loud, but once you looked at his face you realized he was dead serious, and since he asked politely you decided to entertain the idea.

“Alright, why not? Nothing to lose here,” you replied, confident that he would get the answer wrong. It was one of the types of questions that you hated the most because of how tricky it was, so you were convinced that even he would not get it right.

You were glad that you were wrong, for the first time in your life.

“I got it right, didn’t I?” Jay asked minutes later as you leaned closer to look at the screen, scanning the answer key and looking at Jay’s answer.

“Goddamnit,” you muttered, mindlessly clicking the mouse all over the screen.

You heard Jay whisper a ‘yes’ triumphantly and you sighed to yourself before turning around to face him. You began pulling your button-down up from the tuck in your pants, and Jay’s eyes immediately widened.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He shouted, reaching his hands out to stop you. “What are you doing?”

“Flashing you?” You asked back, fingers frozen at the edges of your shirt.

Jay chuckled and fell back leaning his head on the sofa, taking his glasses off and covering his eyes with his forearm. “Noona, I was just joking.”

You felt disappointed, for some reason, and a little bit humiliated. Was he really just using you to feel motivated? And did that actually work? Were you secretly hoping for him to get the answer right?

“Really?” You asked again for confirmation. Jay nodded.

You paused for a second and then smiled. Jay thought you were going to say, ‘Good one’, but then you began scooting closer to him, and he immediately tensed up.

“So, when I sat down in front of you, and you got distracted, that was part of the act?” You asked, almost batting your eyelashes at him.

You could basically hear him gulp. “Yes,” he said, eyes on yours.

“You said I smelled good, was that just a joke too?”

“No,” Jay answered, chuckling this time. “You really do smell good.”

You reached a spot close enough to hear his thoughts, your breasts just inches apart from his chest.

“I really hope you’re not lying,” you whispered, your lips almost grazing his.

Jay let out a soft grunt before he pulled you by your wrist, and you yelped as he somehow managed to maneuver you to sit on his lap. You then kissed him first, pushing him back and letting his head rest on the seat cushion. Both his hands began riding up your thigh as you mercilessly dominated the kiss, quickly tangling your fingers in his gorgeous hair.

His hands moved to your ass to give it a squeeze and you moaned into his mouth, your body shaking and quickly succumbing to his touch. You began grinding on him, barely feeling his bulge, but as he began to dominate the kiss you heard feet shuffling right out the terrace.

“Jay?”

You jumped out of his lap at the sound and immediately made your way to the open kitchen, pretending to busy yourself. Jay cleared his throat and wiped away his saliva, or maybe yours, from his mouth. He stood up and walked over to one of the construction workers who called him, and you tried to observe them quietly as he spoke to him. He held himself with so much composure, almost like he did not even get caught making out with his tutor.

The worker then nodded, and Jay waved slightly at him, and you assumed that the man just gave Jay an update before excusing themselves for the day. You took a deep breath and held the empty glass you took in one hand while massaging your temple. You saw Jay making his way towards you with an apologetic smile on his face.

“Sorry again,” Jay said, standing on the opposite side of the counter. “I actually… don’t have anything else to say.”

You chuckled and looked down to avoid eye contact because you were sure that one more look from him would make you combust.

“Are you okay?” Jay asked, voice full of concern.

“I am, why?” You replied, confused.

Jay shook his head, unsure. “I just did not want to come off as a… I just hope you know that I’m not taking advantage of you, and I really don’t want you to feel—”

You began laughing softly and Jay had to stop speaking.

“Noona?”

“It’s fine,” you said as you began walking to him. You fixed a strand of his hair that was out of place from how much you were ruffling his hair earlier. “I’m okay.”

Jay kept his eyes on you, and you detected a different emotion. Before, you saw that it was lust, but now his eyes seemed hopeful.

“If you’re really okay with it,” Jay spoke, placing a hand behind his neck, “do you think it would be cool if we make it, like, a regular thing?”

“Elaborate, please.”

Jay chuckled softly. “I meant like, I think I could get motivated a lot if there was a reward waiting if I get a question right. Or if I reach a certain score in a mock test, don’t you think?”

You liked the idea very much that there was literally no reason to refuse. “I actually agree.”

“You do?” Jay started smiling widely. “Okay, cool, so the next meeting—”

“You’ll have to pick me up again after my class,” you interrupted, “and we’ll probably need some snacks here.”

Jay nodded firmly as if he had just negotiated a great deal. “Wait, Noona, you don’t have a boyfriend, do you?”

You shook your head. “Do you have a girlfriend?”

“Of course not,” Jay scoffed. “I just didn’t want to get in between of anything.”

You pouted and nodded, understanding. “Well, you’d probably be getting in between something.”

Jay tilted his head in confusion, and you brought your hand to your thigh, patting it. Jay closed his eyes and sighed. You giggled at his reaction.

“This session is over. You need to drive me back,” you demanded, placing the glass you were holding the whole time back on the counter.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Jay muttered before winking at you and turning around to go grab his car keys. You rolled your eyes before following him.

---

To say that you could not wait for your next session with Jay would be an understatement. You were literally counting the days, down to the minute, and you were checking your phone a ridiculous number of times just so you could respond to his chats in an instant. When he picked you up and you saw him getting out of the car to open the door for you, your heart was beating like a drum.

It was understandable, and pretty logical, actually. You had not been intimate with anyone in a long time, and Jay was, quite frankly, fucking hot. It did not help that he was intelligent as well, which was definitely your type. Your heart was racing, and your mind was imagining a thousand different scenarios that you did not even realize that you had arrived at Jay’s place.

You quickly noticed the absence of noise when you stepped out of the car. Jay walked up to the door and looked back at you, noticing how you were also silent.

“It’s a day off for the workers, today,” Jay explained, “it’s just you and me.”

“Thank God,” you muttered.

Jay chuckled. “What?”

“Did I just say that out loud?” You asked back in shock.

Jay laughed, genuinely finding you amusing. “You said it under your breath, but I heard it.”

“How embarrassing,” you said to yourself as you entered the house after him.

“On the contrary,” Jay responded, “I find it adorable.”

For this session, you decided to stay as farther away from Jay as possible, to let him focus and also to clear your mind. He was doing a mock test on his laptop after he received major feedback on his homework essay, and you took the time to wander around his kitchen and check his supplies.

“I can hear you opening the cabinets,” Jay spoke in a louder tone, all the way from the living room.

“Don’t mind me,” you shouted back. “Just focus if you want to get a good score.”

“What was the reward again?” Jay asked, smiling to himself as he scanned the question on his screen.

“A make out session if you reach 7,” you reminded him despite knowing full well that he just wanted you to recite it back to him. “And if you reach 8, I’ll give you a blowjob.”

“Fuck,” Jay muttered to himself.

You were unsure if it was because the thought made him unable to focus, or if he was actually struggling to answer the questions. After a few more minutes, he finally finished his Reading mock test, and you walked over to check his score.

“Noona, I present to you,” Jay began speaking, proudly, “a 7.5.”

Your eyebrows knitted as you observed the screen and scanned the page, checking Jay’s answers and matching them with the answer key. Meanwhile, Jay was leaning back and stretching his arms up, cracking his neck and basically doing preparations as if he was about to run a marathon.

“Good job,” you said, pushing the laptop towards the center of the table. You then turned around only to find him sitting comfortably on the sofa, arms to his side and his lap looking so inviting.

“Can I get my reward now?” He asked, eyes glowing and expecting.

“I’ll count it as a 7, since we never agreed on anything if you get a .5 score,” you said, taking the scrunchie from your wrist and tying your hair up in a messy bun.

“I’ll take anything,” Jay whispered, his arms welcoming you as you carefully straddled him.

You paused to place your hands on the sides of his face, and you bit your lower lip slightly before you leaned into him. His lips greeted yours warmly, and you could not help but sigh into his mouth once you felt his heat envelop you. Jay roamed his hands around your waist, up to your back, and lingering on your shoulders for a moment, pushing you even closer to him.

“Fuck,” he muttered into your lips. “You taste so good, Noona.”

You smiled and kissed him even harder, hoping it would translate into gratitude. You felt his fingers going under your shirt, grazing your skin and you shivered at his touch. He continued kissing you, licking your lips, tugging on your tongue, teeth slightly clashing with yours when the two of you got way too passionate. His fingers tugged your bra and he pulled away only to ask you a question.

“Can I?” He spoke, voice raspy from the lack of air. You wanted it just as much as him, so you nodded quietly.

He unhooked your bra with one hand and immediately moved his hand to the front, squeezing your tits as he continued to devour your lips. You began moaning helplessly, and you could feel him growing hard against your core.

“Jay,” you whined, “your reward is just a make out session.”

“I know,” he whispered. “I know, but doesn’t this feel so good?”

You felt him pinch your hard nipple slightly and you flinched before giggling, hiding your blushing face in the crook of his neck. You realized that he had a birthmark there, so you began kissing it, then licking it, then sucking on it, and only then did Jay let out a moan that sounded new to you.

“Noona,” he said, breathless. “We need to establish clearer rules and rewards.”

You kissed him all the way up to his jawline before meeting his lips again. “What do you mean?” You spoke against his lips.

“How about,” Jay said, pausing to groan since he felt his hard-on getting too restricted against his jeans. “For 7.5, I get to finger you?”

You pulled away from him to look him in the eyes and chuckled. “That sounds like more of a reward for me than it is for you.”

“But I really want it,” Jay confessed. “Please let me finger you.”

“Now?” You asked, placing your hands on his shoulders.

Jay nodded. “Aren’t you wet yet?”

He took the liberty to slide his hand under your pants, which happened to be elastic, thank God, and placed two fingers right along your slit. You elicited a whimper, and Jay could swear that you even shuddered at the sudden contact.

“You are,” Jay announced boldly. “Would you let me?”

His palm was right on your core anyway, and you thought that it would be stupid of you to refuse since he was already making you feel so good. Besides, his argument made sense.

“Okay,” you answered breathlessly, and within a second Jay was pulling your pants down to the floor.

“Seamless,” he commented as he eyed your panties. “Why am I not surprised?”

You shook your head and chuckled. “Why? Do you prefer a lacey thong?”

Jay stroked the inside of your thighs gently as he guided you by your waist to sit back down on the sofa, letting him hover his body over you.

“I would actually prefer nothing,” Jay whispered before closing the gap between your lips.

You felt his tongue enter your mouth and his fingers slipping inside of you almost at the same time, and the immense pleasure made you arch your back. His two fingers curled up inside you, making a ‘come hither’ motion that somehow felt gentle and harsh at the same time. He was moving his fingers at a slow pace, but the pressure he put on made you see stars.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, reaching for Jay’s arms to hold on to. “Jay…”

He loved the way you moaned his name, so he curled his fingers one more time and you whimpered, feeling your legs beginning to shake.

“Fuck,” you muttered again, tilting your head to the side, and letting Jay leave love bites along your neck. “Fuck, Jay, I’m gonna cum.”

“Please do,” he whispered into your ear, maintaining his pace the moment you told him so.

When you finally reached your high, your legs were shaking, and your body was spasming, and Jay had to wipe the sweat that formed on your forehead, tucking your hair behind your ear at the same time. His hand was drenched, and you could feel your cum trickling down onto the sofa.

“Oh my God, sorry,” you said in an instant.

Jay shook his head. “Don’t be,” he said calmly, waiting for you to catch your breath before he deemed it was time to pull his fingers out of you. When he did, you watched as he stared at them, two fingers glistening with your essence. He brought his hand up to his mouth and took a sniff before tasting it. The sight made you roll your eyes back.

“It’s unfair,” Jay began, “the way you taste as good as you smell.”

“God,” you said to yourself, and Jay laughed lowly, proud of how he was able to render you speechless. “What about you now?”

Jay tilted his head and then looked down at the obvious tent in his pants. “Oh, it’s fine. I’ll take care of it later.”

“In that case,” you said, pushing his chest slightly so he could move away from you. You tugged down your panties that had stayed on the whole time, and when you took them off your ankles you handed them to Jay.

“For later.”

You smiled as he took your panties in his hand, and you cackled the moment he took a sniff dramatically.

“Thanks, Noona,” Jay said, leaning in to leave a quick peck on your cheek. “Time to drive you back now.”

---

The next couple of meetings were spent in the same manner, more or less. Jay would try his best to get a score as high as he could, but he would never go over 7.5, so all you did was make out with him in his living room, in his bedroom, or even in his car on the ride back to campus. He took it like a champ, though, and he never insisted on taking things further than what you had previously agreed on.

You had one meeting left with him before his scheduled test, and you were dreading the day. Usually, you would be looking forward to meeting him, but all things come to an end, even private lessons, so you halfheartedly dolled yourself up in front of the mirror in your faculty’s restrooms, still determined to look your best for your favorite student.

The car ride to his house was spent in comfortable silence, and you did not mind the way his hand reached for your thigh, resting it there as he rubbed his thumb along your skin. You were wearing a short skirt for a change, and you loved the way it had caught his attention in an instant. Once you arrived, Jay took you by your hand and led you straight to his bedroom for privacy, since the workers were currently at his house.

“Noona,” he called for you before starting the mock test on his computer. You were halfway making yourself comfortable on his bed. “Can you sit with me while I do this?”

“Where?” You walked towards him.

He spun his chair towards you and patted his lap. “Here.”

You chuckled. “Why?”

“It’s our last meeting and I want to be close to you.”

You were underestimating the effects of his words and you felt like your stomach did a flip. You never shied away from his advances, though, so doing it now would be weird. And you did not want it to backfire and end up demotivating him.

“Okay,” you said, turning around before you carefully sat on his lap. You had to adjust your position several times to make sure he was comfortable, and he wrapped an arm around your waist and rested his head on your shoulder as he began the test.

“You can answer in your mind if you want,” Jay said, tilting his chin towards the screen.

You answered by reaching your hand back to stroke his hair, and he hummed in delight as he began answering the test. Eventually, you leaned your back towards his chest and sat comfortably, almost falling asleep from his warmth. You eyed the screen and noticed that he was about to answer a question wrong, so you placed your hand over his and moved the mouse to the right option.

“Isn’t this cheating?” He asked, genuinely unsure.

“I’m giving you a pass, Jay,” you answered calmly, patting his cheek.

After a while, he finished his mock test, and you saw the results come up as soon as he clicked next.

“You did it,” you said, staring at the screen. “That’s an 8.”

You noticed that Jay was silent for too long, and then you realized you had sat on his lap for too long, so you quickly stood up and stretched your legs, smoothing your skirt down.

“Are you ready for your reward?” You asked, eyes full of anticipation.

Jay licked his lips and shook his head. You immediately frowned.

“I feel like if you hadn’t corrected that one question, I would still get a 7.5,” Jay confessed. “It’s okay, I’ll skip the reward.”

“What?” You said, almost spitting your words out. You did not know why his refusal got you so worked up.

“Noona,” he began, reaching for your hands as he stood up from his seat. “I appreciate what you’ve been doing for me, but I also don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

You continued to frown, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I’ve loved the sessions we had, and I’m really thankful for all the rewards, but I need you to know that my goal remains the same, and it’s to get the highest score possible. The test is in a week, and I need to remain focused.”

He really did it, you thought. He used you to his advantage until he didn’t need you anymore.

But you knew that, deep inside. You knew that this way of giving him motivation would be dangerous, more for you than for him. You knew that Jay is a professional and that he takes his studies seriously, so you knew that catching feelings would be out of the picture for him.

Sadly, you forgot to set the boundaries for yourself.

You really thought that you could keep it casual, and you really thought that you were not going to start having feelings for him since it had been ages anyway since you had loved someone, so why does his professionalism hurt you? When in fact, you should be thankful that he respected you?

Your mind was running a mile a minute thinking of possible scenarios, and his face was becoming concerned. Eventually, you managed to fake a smile and you nodded before you said your response.

“As expected,” you began, “from the top student in class.”

Jay blinked, not expecting you to remember the one fun fact that Heeseung had told you about him.

“Your essays have improved so much since the first meeting. Your speaking is fine, just remember not to use fillers too much. You have no problem with the listening section, and for reading, I suggest you keep practicing during the few days before the test.”

Now, Jay was the one with a frown on his face. He was wondering why you were acting so formally again.

“I’ll text you good luck before the test, and when the results are out, tell me your score,” you continued.

“If I get over 7.5—”

“I’ll treat you to lunch.”

Jay scrunched his nose. “Pardon?”

“I’ll treat you to a nice lunch, okay? My pick this time,” you said with a smile so convincing that it was hard for him not to smile back.

“Okay,” Jay smiled back at you, trying to hide the tone of disappointment in his voice.

---

Days had passed by since Jay took his test, and even since the results of it came out. You held back from texting him first since he never responded to your good luck text on the day of his test. You then swallowed the bitter fact that, maybe, or most likely, Jay really was using you and your dumb self had consented to it.

But it could not be, you convinced yourself. He was a gentleman. Would he really do that?

You gave up trying to find answers that might make you feel better, so you decided to busy yourself with other freelance work that came your way. You felt bad turning down the other students that Heeseung had referred you to, and you had to come up with lame excuses like you had no time or you had way too much on your plate.

The real reason was that everything about the test prep now reminds you of Jay, and you would not want to take out your anger and disappointment on your new student. You thought it was best to stop tutoring for a while until you had completely moved on.

One of the latest gigs that got you a little too excited was speaking for a panel discussion in a workshop that was related to your teaching experience on campus. Previously, you attended these events as a participant, sitting in the audience and actively taking notes and recording the speakers, but now you get to see it from the other side of the stage, and you could not help but feel proud of yourself.

You dressed your best to impress, for once not dressing for yourself but for the audience, and when you sat in between the other speakers on stage you became so engrossed that you almost did not realize the familiar figure sitting on the front row but at the farthest chair from the stage.

Jay noticed you looking at him, so he threw you a soft smile and a tiny wave with his hand. You smiled and quickly turned towards the host who had called out your name to address a question. You answered the question and looked at the other speakers on your side, and you were glad that they were nodding along to your response, signaling that you had indeed answered the question correctly.

Surprisingly, it was not hard to stay focused on the rest of the discussion. Jay sat pretty far from your sight, so all you had to do was look anywhere except in his direction. You did look at him one more time, though, and you caught him looking at the huge screen that was focusing on your face as you were speaking. You almost sighed in relief a little too loudly when the session ended, and you gathered your belongings as well as your thoughts as the other people swarmed towards the outside of the hall.

You could feel someone approaching you from behind, and when you turned around Jay was looking at you with a soft gaze in his eyes.

“Noona,” he said.

“Hey, Jay,” you greeted him back.

“Listen, can I speak to you somewhere else private?” He asked before looking around and spotting several people still lingering inside the hall.

“This seems private enough,” you said as you looked around too. “I barely know anyone here.”

Jay became visibly uncomfortable, and you instantly felt bad.

“If you wouldn’t mind, I can drive you home and we can talk on the way, or—”

“Or, you can come up with me to my room,” you suggested.

Jay’s mouth was slightly open as he tried to process your words.

“I am staying here for the weekend. You don’t have to drive me anywhere,” you said with a smile, turning around to grab your bag. Your heart was beating a little too fast to your liking.

Jay tailed you and kept silent as you both waited for the elevator to open. Once it did, you entered and he followed behind you, waiting until the doors closed before he finally began to speak.

“I got an 8.5,” Jay said, looking down at the floor.

Your eyes widened. “Jay, that’s amazing!”

“I’m sorry,” he then said.

You were confused. “What?”

The elevator dinged and two people came inside. You decided to wait until you reached your floor to continue the conversation.

“I’ll explain once we’re inside, I promise,” Jay said as he matched your pace, walking beside you until you reach your door.

His face instantly switched from worried to wonder when he realized that you were walking all the way to the end of the hall.

“The event gave you a suite?” Jay asked, pure curiosity getting the best of him.

You could not help but chuckle. “No, I upgraded myself. Come in.”

As soon as you closed the door, you felt Jay pull your hand before he quickly trapped you between his body and the wall. You did not even have the time to be surprised because the next thing you knew his lips were latched onto yours, and your body betrayed you by reciprocating him and pulling him closer to you.

Jay quickly pulled away when he felt your fingers hooked on his belt. You licked your lips and let your eyes search for his.

“I’m sorry, I owe you an explanation,” Jay said, rubbing his hand on your waist. “I shouldn’t have lunged at you like this.”

You cleared your throat and fixed your hair, gently pushing him away from you before you made your way to the loveseat in the center of the room.

“Have a seat,” you replied, sitting on the sofa yourself and bringing your legs up to your chest.

Jay sat down and took his bag off, letting it fall to the floor as he let out a huge sigh.

“I don’t know where to start,” he confessed.

“Take your time,” you responded, stretching your arm and leaning your head on it. “Maybe start with why you didn’t reply to my texts?”

“I lost my phone,” Jay began. “Literally the night before the test. I had no time to get a new one, and I didn’t want to get distracted, so I just went on and took the test. Right after, though, my professor… that jackass…”

Your eyes widened at Jay’s frustrated insult, and you had to hold back a smile.

“It was just class after class, task after task, I really did not have the time or mental capacity to get back to you, and I don’t want you to think that I consider you as less of a priority, because I don’t, and I really tried to ask Heeseung for your number again, but it’s… you know what? These are excuses. I don’t want to give you excuses.”

You frowned but at the same time, an amused smile was slowly creeping up your face.

“I should have contacted you the minute I could, but I didn’t, and I let other stuff take up my time. That’s my mistake. I’m sorry.”

“Alright, apology accepted,” you said, tapping your fingers on the sofa.

Jay looked at you in confusion. “Really? That easy?”

You clicked your tongue and tilted your head. “That still does not explain why you kissed me a second ago, though.”

“Right,” Jay continued. He took a deep breath before he spoke again. “Right.”

You chuckled lightly and adjusted your position. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Because you’re so fucking gorgeous, and I have feelings for you but I’m not sure you have the same.”

You held a hand over your mouth in shock. “Jay,” you mumbled.

“You understood me wrongly,” he continued. “The day of our last meeting when I said I needed to remain focused. I was trying to confess to you.”

Your eyes were looking into his and you nodded once, telling him to continue.

“I really did not want you to think that I was taking advantage of you. I just grew to like you a lot, and you can’t even imagine how fucking relieved I was when you agreed to my proposal of rewards. Every single time I spent with you only deepened my feelings even more, and I…”

Jay paused to look at you, and you straightened your position.

“I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Rambling when I’m nervous?” Jay said, almost stuttering towards the end of his sentence.

You smiled to yourself before you pushed your body up. You made your way to his side and sat close beside him, touching your thigh with his.

“Well, let me tell you that I’m fucking relieved that you’re here to straighten things out,” you stated, resting a hand on his thigh. “Because guess what?”

You ended your question by inching your face closer to his.

“What?” He muttered under his breath.

“I have feelings for you, too.”

Jay sighed out of relief and smiled before he leaned in to kiss you, and as his hands found their place on your waist, you moved to straddle him. You were both in a familiar position, taking you back to the hours you would spend at his house, making out with him as a reward.

“Noona,” he spoke against your lips in between kisses. “When I said if I get more than 7.5, I was going to say I wanted to eat you out.”

You broke down laughing against his lips and you had to move your face to his neck so he wouldn’t choke on your breaths.

“You just had to interrupt me and say that you were going to treat me to lunch,” Jay continued before bringing your face back up and devouring your lips again. “You kind of owe me.”

You hummed against his lips and guided his hands to go underneath your shirt. He unhooked your bra with ease before moving his hands to cup both your breasts.

“God,” you muttered, grinding your hips harder against his crotch.

“Noona,” Jay breathed, moving his hand to unbutton your shirt. “Can’t you moan my name instead?”

“Oh, Jay,” you whispered, chuckling when you see him smile as your hands cupped his face. “You sweet little thing.”

Jay had managed to take both your bra and your shirt off in an instant, and you brought his head closer to your breasts so he could fondle them with his mouth. You moaned louder as he nibbled on your nipple, grinding faster against his hips and placing your hands firmly on his head.

“Why don’t I treat you to lunch now?” You proposed, tugging his hair and making him look up at you.

Jay nodded and you moved away from his lap, standing up and bringing him to his feet too. You started unbuttoning his shirt as you walked backwards, leading him towards the bed. He placed his hands firmly on your waist, letting you do your thing. Once the back of your legs hit the bed, you sat down and took off your panties and trousers in one go. Jay immediately kneeled in front of you.

“I still have your panties, Noona,” he said as you rested your legs comfortably on his shoulder.

“What do you do with it?” You asked, challenging him.

“I touch myself with it and imagine doing this to you.”

His lips brushed against your folds without warning, and you immediately fell back to the bed, lying down. He kissed your clit before running his tongue along your slit, and the warmth and wetness of his mouth drove you crazy. You began pulling on his hair, determined to get him even closer, and he reacted by hooking his arm around your thighs, humming as he lapped up your arousal.

“Jay,” you whimpered. “You’re doing so good.”

He began making loud wet noises deliberately, knowing how it would make you moan louder, and when you were squirming under his touch he inserted a finger, all the while toying with your clit using his tongue.

“Fuck!” You hissed, arching your back and lifting your ass from the bed. “Don’t stop, Jay, please.”

You pressed the ball of your foot against Jay’s back as he continued to eat you out, taking you to your first high of the night and cumming against his mouth. You were breathing loudly, panting so much like the air was sucked out of you. Jay squeezed your thigh before unlatching his lips, then he gently caressed your folds with his fingers, collecting the remains of your cum before licking them dry.

“Come here,” you begged, your hands reaching out for nothing until he moved and placed himself between your legs.

Jay leaned down and began kissing your jaw, and you took the liberty of unbuckling his belt and tugging his pants down as he devoured your neck. You felt the bulge underneath his boxers and almost froze at the contact.

“What’s wrong?” Jay asked, noticing how you stopped moving for a split second.

“You’re…” You tried your best to look down at his crotch. “You’re fucking huge.”

Jay was the one with a breathy chuckle now, amused at your reaction.

“That’s because it’s hard, and that’s because of you, Noona.”

“Fuck me, then,” you replied, bringing one hand to squeeze his biceps. “Literally, please.”

“Wait, let me just…”

Jay moved away from you to reach inside the pockets of his pants before kicking it off then he pulled his boxers off completely, and only then you realized he was holding a condom.

“That condom was in your pocket this whole time?” You asked in disbelief. “Were you expecting this to happen?”

“Noona,” Jay looked at you with a smirk. “You know how driven I am.”

“Oh my God,” you retorted, chuckling and covering your eyes with your arm. “Can’t believe I fell for it.”

Jay unwrapped the condom and slid it down his length with ease.

“Staying safe, are we?” You asked with a smile as you welcomed him back into your embrace.

“Well, I’m a med student, so…”

“Okay, enough, let’s just fuck.”

Jay kissed your face a couple more times until it got annoying because he was clearly stalling. You grabbed his face and he chuckled, biting his lower lip.

“You’re really pretty,” he confessed all of a sudden.

“And you’re hot as fuck, so can you just fuck me please?”

Jay nodded and kissed you with a smile, aligning his tip with your slit. “Take a deep breath,” he whispered.

You did as he said, and you were glad you did. Jay filled you up and once again you had underestimated your own predictions. Back when you were still just making out and straddling him, you only had a faint idea of his size, and he was wearing loose pants all the time, so it was not like you were able to tell easily. Your breath became shaky as you felt him bottom out, and he brought his hand up to caress your face.

“Tell me if it’s okay to move,” he whispered ever so gently before kissing your nose.

You opened your eyes and found him staring at you. You were breathing from your mouth, so he tilted his head to kiss your cheek softly. After that, you reached your hands under his arms, latched them on his shoulders, and then you nodded.

He pulled out of you and thrusted back in gently, and the force already had you gasping for air. Once he found a steady rhythm, you began matching his pace, thrusting your hips upwards and meeting him halfway. It was impossible to hold back your moans, and if you weren’t moaning you were whimpering, or breathing his name with every stroke he made.

“I’m close, Noona,” he spoke against your lips.

You nodded and ran your fingers through his hair. “Me too.”

Jay began increasing his pace, thrusting into you with a little more force. He looked down and placed a hand under your thigh, keeping your leg secure beside him. He then looked up at you to check if you were still okay. You licked your lips and pulled him into a kiss. His thrusts soon began to grow sloppy, and after he finally released his seed, your walls clenched around his shaft, letting him know that you had reached your high too.

You slowly try to catch your breath, and Jay kissed you once more before pulling out of you, careful not to make a mess. He took the condom off and tied it before quickly chucking it in the bin, and he made himself comfortable lying beside you. Your hand was looking a little lonely, so he took it and intertwined his fingers with yours.

The two of you sat in silence as both your chests heaved up and down. You turned your head to look at Jay and he was closing his eyes as if he was savoring the moment. You scooted closer to him, taking your hand away but letting him wrap you in his arms.

“So, what are we?” You asked in the most straightforward manner.

Jay’s heavy breaths turned into a chuckle, and soon after you were both just laughing like idiots madly in love.

-END-

© forjongseong 2023, all rights reserved

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!!! do NOT copy, translate, or repost any of my work to your blog or ANY other platform.

[1-800-crazy]

cold nights

jason todd + reader (gn)

just a fluffy ramble, pretty short. my first time writing anything dc, let alone posting it so lol

It was cold. God, it was cold. Moments prior to finding yourself on the fire escape of your apartment, you were curled up on the couch typing away at an essay with a looming deadline, that was until an equally looming shadow appeared outside your window, tapping lightly on the glass with gloved knuckles. It was typical for Jason to perch at your window for a while if he caught the warm light from the window during his patrol, either looking for comfort after a rough fight or to playfully scold you for being awake during a boring shift. 

This time happened to be the latter. The two of you sat on the cold metal of the fire escape, your nose turning a redder hue as your eyes rolled at another teasing remark from the red vigilante. As much as you would complain about him dragging you out while you were ‘in the zone’ of writing or ‘getting to the best part’ of a new show, it was always a nice reassurance to know he was ok. If a sleepless night passed with no window tapping visitor, your mind would begin to spiral. You knew Jason was tough, he was the Red Hood for fucks sake. But no matter how much reassurance his strength and skill gave you, it did nothing to ease the thoughts of what could be. Nights would pass lonely and morning would welcome a limping Todd boy at your door with a cup of coffee and whatever pastry he thought would make telling you the events that left him in this predicament easier. He knew you were scared each time he failed to show his face but sometimes, if the patrol was too rough, he didn’t want to. If he couldn’t look himself in the face, bruised and bloodied and broken, how could he expect you to? 

Tonight was not one of those nights. Tonight was nice. Tonight, neither of you were weighed down by anxieties with differing roots and differing branches and differing leaves that fell to the cold wet ground for you to slip on. Tonight was nice. He hated having to say goodbye on nights like this. He considered telling Bruce to send someone else out, that something important came up, but the sleepy look on your face and chattering teeth (both of which he could tell you were trying to downplay) made him rise from his icy seat on the metal. 

Cold lips shared a sweet kiss before he hopped over the railing of the fire escape. A call of your name turned your attention away from climbing back into the warm embrace of your apartment. With a lazy smirk that told you he knew exactly how much you enjoyed the sight, he pulled himself up, hands grasping the cold metal railing to meet your lips one final time.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

Maybe the cold wasn’t so bad after all.

[tanadrin]

The most frustrating thing I saw in the "AI debate" (ugh) is where Ted Chiang apparently wrote in a New Yorker essay, "yeah, I could imagine there being some usefulness or merit to LLM use if you did it as one tool among many as part of an iterative creative process," and someone on Twitter was like "people literally do this all the time, including in writing," and their tweet got a bunch of replies along the lines of "those people aren't writers lol," who pointed to Chiang's essay as an argument. Like I dunno man, it sure doesn't feel like there's actually a principled argument here. LLMs just have the wrong Vibes, and since nobody actually knows anything about the jurisprudence of copyright and there's not actually a single consistent and concrete definition of plagiarism[1], people feel free to argue about it until the cows come home.

[1] don't @ me being like "lol everybody knows what plagiarism is." i have seen what constitutes academic misconduct on grounds of plagiarism vary widely between different fields of scholarship based on accepted citation practices; people have huge fights about what should or should not constitute fair use; the music industry is notorious for impossible-to-adjudicate court cases based on short fragments of a melody here and there happening to resemble one another. plagiarism, like all conceptual categories, has some clear central examples and a huge penumbra of fuzzy examples that are often highly contextual, if they can even be agreed on at all. the desire to treat plagiarism as black and white to shore up one side of an argument or another is at best shortsighted and at worst outright dishonest.

[genericpuff]

hi, i know the episode came out weeks ago, but i wanted to talk about ep 277 and your essay on it. i thought it was very well thought out and had brought up lots of concerns abt apollo's other victims and the harm persephone caused to others that i just. hadn't really thought about myself because honestly this webcomic is a BLUR to me LOL. thank you for writing these insights and putting them online for others to read ! i think you manage to keep a respectful distance to rachel [1/]

Yeah, regarding how the SA was handled...

I think Rachel did exactly as well as anyone might have expected someone like her to write a plotline like that.

Honestly if Rachel really did want to do the arrow thing, I think it would have worked WAY better if she had used the arrow of hate. First of all, because it had already been established back in S2 when it was shot at him by Psyche, but ALSO because making it an arrow of love confirmed that Eros literally did what Apollo asked despite the fact that he's Persephone's best friend and should have been more suspicious of what he was going to use it for. Why not just do a bait & switch where Apollo is under the impression that it's an arrow of love but Persephone trusts in her friend and pieces it together that it's probably an arrow of hate? It would also payoff the whole "news crew being nearby" thing (as well as all the other gods that just randomly showed up) because uh oh now they all see his true nature and he can't hide behind his lies anymore!

After all, as I mentioned in my previous post about this (the one I believe you're referring to) it's not like there wasn't already foreshadowing that Apollo was going to fall on his own sword the way of Mr Waternoose from Monster's Inc, he was already showing signs of cracking under the guilt that he was feeling towards how he treated Persephone/Eris/Hermes/etc. so why did it have to be Persephone taking a massive risk by sticking him with an arrow of love that still doesn't fully explain why he would even suddenly be a changed man? Loads of people like Apollo think they're in love / define their infatuation as love so I don't see how an arrow of love would suddenly make him empathetic to her pain. Especially when, again, he still begs her not to make him confess, so the guilt he's feeling is still completely empty and unmotivated.

I will leave this with one final thing that I saw the other day that very much reminded me of the Apollo SA plotline and I think it rings very true for the misdirected conclusion of the plot itself:

One of the biggest issues of the Apollo SA plotline, at least in my opinion, is that it never really gets to the root of why people like Apollo exist. There absolutely were strong foundations for this - he's the son of a guy who's known for being a serial cheater, he's popular and egotistical and is used to women wanting him, etc. - but all of those foundations kind of fell to the wayside in favor of turning Apollo into just another boogeyman, especially to lift Hades up as a "good man" by comparison (when Hades himself also falls on this spectrum). But many people like Apollo aren't just random guys in an alleyway or conspiring with some "higher power" that's manipulating them, they're men who fundamentally do not understand consent and assault on the varying spectrums in which it exists from "SA just exists, oh well" passiveness to "I'm an actual monster who gets pleasure out of victimizing women" aggressiveness. I think there's a lot to discuss about how people like Apollo exist WITHOUT sympathizing with them, but LO manages to do neither - not only does it give us uncomfortable and unnecessary looks into the rapist's POV more than we get the victims, but it does it in a way that doesn't actually address the issue of how people like Apollo come to be, it's just "Apollo is the big evil boogeyman who raped Persephone". Not only does it not actually put enough focus on the victims, but it reduces the societal and cultural complexities of where Apollo's brand of egotistical entitlement comes from to just "some guys just be evil like that". Guys like Apollo don't just come out of the womb like that, they're often shaped into what they are by a society that both excuses them for awful behavior towards girls ("Boys will be boys!") and enables - if not outright encourages - them to objectify women as trophies that they're entitled to. Even the seemingly innocent and sentimental practice of "giving away a bride" at a wedding is rooted in these patriarchal systems, with the belief that a woman first "belongs" to her father before being "given to" her husband.

It's the part of feminism that often gets overlooked - it's not just about uplifting female voices and helping survivors speak up about and heal from SA, it's also about deconstructing and challenging the patriarchal systems that lead to SA victims being created in the first place. Sure, Apollo got sentenced to building temples in the Mortal Realm, but what is that actually doing to address the bigger topic of how men like him come to exist in the first place? Especially when it was also treated as a good thing for TGOEM to be disbanded, instead of, idk... reworking it into a women's support group for survivors like Persephone?

IDK, it's a very complicated subject that you can approach from a million different angles, I don't think that my criticizing it should outweigh the opinions of those who were satisfied with the punishment that was given to Apollo (my saying the SA plotline sucked doesn't mean you're not allowed to find your own validation in it) but I do think that, at best, Rachel ended the SA plotline the only way she could because she herself is just not equipped to tackle such broad subjects that require a lot more education, experience, and nuance than what she's capable of writing. There are definitely 1298423108 better ways that plotline could have been resolved, but not with Rachel Smythe at the helm.

And that's my many cents on that.

[3liza]

Do you write? Where can I read something you wrote? :)

I'm really bad at updating my CV so I'm forgetting a lot of stuff but I wrote for most of the main "gaming news and journalism" websites during the 2000s and also worked on Unhallowed Metropolis the TTRPG in a bunch of roles, including a chapter in the soucebook. one of the more recent ones was Headcase which was an anthology by Oxford Press, which was an honor, i think it was about queer mental health? also my book Problem Glyphs has an essay in it, that's sold by Strix (publisher). I had some stuff in Thick As Thieves in Seattle that I was proud of but fuck that paper it was run by a psychopath. uhhhh I unfortunately started a short fiction series with Warren Ellis way before all the reports about him came out, called Deep Map Pilots, I think some of that is on this blog and searchable. Cafe Racer Anthology about Dune called Dune, I'm not sure if it's searchable or purchasable. I was in Lightspeed Magazine's special issue (or maybe it was another anthology) called Queers Destroy Science Fiction. Short story in Conclave Journal's 2010 or 2011 issue.

i'm a shit promoter of my writing honestly it's not really something I have been actively pursuing recently because it pays peanuts and I just haven't felt like writing as much as pursuing other stuff. i really only publish when someone asks me specifically or contacts my business manager lol. I've been thinking about trying to find a publisher for a poetry chapbook I've already completed and formatted but the poetry market is...well it's exactly what you would expect. borderline impossible to publish, much less sell, unless you have some sort of brand name going in, which I do not, at least in a way that would help sell poetry.

i started a short story I really liked based on the Clarksworld published list of "most common words used in titles of stories submitted to Clarksworld Magazine" more as a joke than anything but I've been thinking about cleaning it up and submitting it. it was kind of an exercise in "how do I take these extremely worn out title words and do something I think is fresh with them" and sort of as a little joke to submit to them. i think it's probably something they would maybe consider printing if the issue was right for it, I'm not sure though.

[otherone12]

Hi, I'm obsessed with the way you write your stories and I'd like to ask for a request, it's the first time I've done one but I love your stories. I'd like to ask you for one about basement gee x reader (the plot doesn't matter) but I'd like something smut (of course one where both are of legal age) but I'd like to see gerard as someone who is geeky and is in love (somewhat sickly) with the reader

I'm sorry if it's weird, and also English is not my first language so I'm sorry if the wording of the message is bad.

I’m Awkward, Not Dangerous!

Basement!Gerard Way x Reader

-> Masterlist

Hi!!! Omg, I'm glad you like my fics <3 !!! And also thanks for requesting!! I really loved the idea!! Well, I tried to make his nerdy side very visible, mainly by making him very weird in terms of social relationships and some geek references along in the story. Ngl, I had to write this one like three times, 'cause was never good enought, but I think it's nice now lol. I hope you like it! (If it turned out too different from what you imagined, let me know and I'll try to fix it :) )

(If u have some suggestion, idea, or request, just drop it! )

Summary: It suppoused to be another day, but things turned a different when Gerard invite you to watch a movie in his basement, let's just say he REALLY likes you, and you discovered this in the creepy way possible. (I'm terrible at writing summaries)

- Word Count: 3.000

- Warnings: afab SMUT, awkward gerard.

- Ps: I'll not use y/n…

- Ps2: I'm brazilian, so english is not my first language ... sorry if i wrote something wrong.

___________________________________________

1st Person POV

School sucks, our senior year was supposed to be a little funnier, right? Unfortunately, that's not what's happening, but it's infinitely better when they're with me.

Sometimes we spent entire periods outside the classroom, just chatting about anything and listening to our favorite bands, while we smoke behind the bleachers.

This was another one of those afternoons, where one less math lesson didn't make any difference, and it seemed much more interesting to hear Frank make jokes about someone's clothes. Followed by Mikey update us on the latest gigs in town, or Ray making insightful comments on every topic that comes up.

Sometimes, Gerard talks about the backstories of the heroes he created, so we spend hours thinking of outfits and some scenes that might be cool. Is really cute when he gets all excited talking about things he likes.

After a while, the conversation starts to wind down. Frank is scrolling through his phone, muttering something about needing to practice with his band. Mikey checks the time and mentions that his work shift was going to start. Ray says he has to study for some test he has tomorrow, and heads out first, leaving the rest of us behind with a lazy wave.

- Guess that’s it for me, folks. - Frank said, getting up - if I miss one more essay they'll look for another guitarist.

- I think I'll go too - Mikey stubbed out his cigarette and picked up his backpack, making his way to the video store - but I'll probably be home by 9pm… maybe later if Pete and I go drink something after the shift.

Within minutes, it’s just Gerard and I.

He’s sitting a little awkwardly, tucking strands of hair behind the ear, like he’s waiting for the right moment to say something. It’s sweet how shy he gets sometimes, especially when the others aren’t around to drown out the silence. There’s always something a little different about him when it’s just the two of us.

- So, uh…- He cleared his throat. - Do you... wanna come over? I was gonna watch that new horror movie I told you about. The really bad one with the cheesy practical effects…

His voice was low, and he blinked with his beautiful hazel eyes, pleading. After a few seconds, he gave a shy, hopeful smile.

- I mean, only if you’re not busy or anything…

- Nope, I’m totally free. - I smiled at him, excited to watch the movie with him.

The walk to Gerard’s house is filled with easy conversation. He talks about the movie, rambling about the director’s other films, his company was really nice, actually. Every now and then, my shoulder brushes his, and I swear I catch him glancing at me from the corner of his eye. Wasn’t something bothering, but it’s kinda… weird?

When we finally reach Gerard’s place, he fumbled with his keys at the front door, a little too eager.

- My parents aren’t home… - He said, being a bit surprised - Well, I'm gonna fix the things in my room in the basement… Can you wait a minute?

he scratched the back of his neck, apparently nervous, so I let out a smile in an attempt to comfort him. I understand that since we hadn't arranged it beforehand, he didn't have time to prepare or anything.

- Sure!

- I’ll be right back - Gerard rushed to his basement, and I stayed in the living room of Way’s house.

Looking around, I saw family pictures, some paints on the wall, books, a pretty carpet… It was a pretty house. Wasn’t long before Gerard returned from the basement, nodding and beckoning me to follow.

Wasn’t the first time I went to his basement, but I was never alone with him.

It’s cluttered but cozy, just like the other times: comics spread out on his bed, action figures on shelves, and posters of old movies plastered along the walls. His bed was covered with a batman sheet, and he gestures toward it with an awkward smile.

- Make yourself comfortable. - Again, he rushed away, going to the kitchen - I’ll grab drinks.

I sat down, noticing the little details scattered everywhere. He even has a stack of DVDs, just waiting to be watched. It’s easy to see how much of himself Gerard has poured into this space, and somehow, that makes it feel intimate.

He came back with two cans of soda, handing me one as he flops onto the bed beside me. His knee bumped into mine, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he pressed play on the remote, the movie starting with a dramatic, over-the-top horror intro.

As the lights dim and the movie flickers to life, I notice Gerard sneaking a glance my way. It’s quick, like he’s checking to see if I’m still there or if I’ve evaporated into thin air. He shifted in his seat, awkwardly pulling his hoodie sleeves over his hands.

I tried to focus on the screen, I really do, but out of nowhere, his hand brushes against mine. It was kind of an accidental touch, my heart raced, but I didn’t move it.

After some seconds of just the sound of the movie filling the room, Gerard cleaned his throat and took a deep breath, like he was trying to take courage to say something.

- Y’know… - I turned my attention to him - I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.

I Glance at him, and he’s looking at the TV like he’s afraid it might explode if he makes eye contact with me.

- Do what? - I asked, trying not to sound as jittery as I feel.

- Uh... spend time with just you. - He scratched the back of his neck, and his gaze moved from the tv to me.

I didn’t know what to say, so I defaulted to my nervous habit, fiddling with my bracelet, twisting it around my wrist like it holds the answer to every awkward situation. Gerard noticed, of course, because apparently, he has a PhD in Me Studies.

- You don’t have to be nervous, sugar.

“Sugar”? He never called me that way before. But he kept talking, like it wasn’t a big deal. I did not protest, I actually kinda liked it.

- You always mess with that bracelet when you’re nervous. - He said like it was something obvious - It’s... kinda cute.

I shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable, only to realize: Gerard isn’t watching the movie. He’s watching me. And he’s terrible at being subtle about it.

Before I can process what’s happening, he slips his hand into mine, like a middle-schooler figuring out how to hold hands for the first time. His palm is warm, a little sweaty, okay, a lot of sweat, but weirdly... I didn’t mind.

It wasn't as if I didn't like him, maybe I really liked him too, I'd just never thought about it before. Back to the movie, my mind was filled with a million other things to think about, so I couldn't even focus on looking at the screen. My gaze traveled around the room, but something caught my eye: a small, familiar notebook lying half-tucked beneath a pile of DVDs on the coffee table really close to his bed.

The same notebook Gerard always carries with him at school, the one he’s always scribbling in during lunch or between classes. I couldn’t help myself to take advantage of Gerard's distraction, and I flipped it open. 

My eyes went wide and my heart skipped a beat when I saw what was inside that notebook. Pages and pages of photos of me. Some printed, others cut out from old Polaroids. All of them are candid shots, taken without my knowledge. There’s one of me smoking behind the bleachers, another of me laughing with Mikey, and several from school, walking to class, sitting at my desk, leaning against my locker.

Each one is accompanied by small, scribbled notes in Gerard’s messy handwriting. Things like “She looks so pretty here.” or “I wish this was just the two of us.” … Along with sketches of portraits, pieces of comics that meant something in our “relationship”. There were sketches of us together, drawn in different comic styles, one of us as Jedi, another as superheroes, and even one as cartoon vampires, all accompanied by little speech bubbles with inside jokes.

Every page flipped, I got even more shocked about the large amount of content he has there. Things from years ago, and the last things were from the last days.

- Hey... What are you looking at? - His voice is soft, but there’s an edge to it now, a note of panic creeping in.

I glance up to see Gerard frozen in place, his hazel eyes wide with fear as he notices the notebook in your hands.

- W-where did you…? - He mumbled, turning bright red, embarrassed - Uh... I can explain! Wait, no, I mean- don't freak out... It’s... okay, it looks bad, but it’s not that bad.

He let go from my hand and got up, rubbing his hands together nervously. he began to pant, and his countenance indicated that he was desperately looking for an excuse.

- Well, it is exactly what it looks like! - I yell, turning back to the notebook, still shocked, analyzing every page.

He turned around, rubbing one of his hands over his face in a messy motion. Before long, he began to walk around the room in circles, while his shaky voice continued to speak.

- Oh God, I’m gonna die. Yep. This is how I die. - he murmured to himself, before facing me again - Just bury me under these comics.

Before i could say anything, he blurts:

- Okay, look… it’s not like I’m a total creep, okay? I-I just... thought you looked cool... like, really cool, and, um - The words rushed out of his mouth, as if he had stopped thinking and was just throwing anything to ease the situation -… okay, I might have taken some pictures without asking… b-but it’s not like ‘weird’ weird! It’s... more... uh... admiration?

I couldn't hide my look of confusion. At the same time as I wanted to get out of there, I didn't want to. It was obviously strange, but at the same time it was adorable the way he noticed me. The things he wrote in that notebook said so much more than I could have imagined he felt. Not giving me time to think about what to say, he kept going.

- I thought, y'know, maybe if I... cataloged- no, wait, bad word… uh, recorded...? - He groans - I swear I sound less creepy in my head.

- Look, I was gonna tell you... - He insists, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. - I mean, not like this, obviously. 

He catched my confused expression and groans again.

-Ugh, you probably think I’m a total loser now.

The more he spoke, the less frightening the situation became and the cuter he seemed to me. So I stood up, in a failed attempt to calm him down, but the result was the complete opposite.

- Wait! Please don’t go. I-I know this is... a lot. But I promise I’m not some psycho. - He pauses, then adds, - Like, I’m awkward, not dangerous! 

I don't know where that feeling came from. Maybe it's always been there. I wanted to hug him, kiss him and tell him that it was fine, that I knew he wasn’t a psycho. 

 - Okay, okay! I know I’m weird, but... don’t leave me hanging here. Please. I really... like you. - the statement caught me off guard. it's not as if it wasn't obvious, but I wasn't prepared.  -  Like, more than I ever thought possible.

The way he looks at me, a perfect mix of nervous wreck and hopeful puppy is strangely endearing. Something about his awkward honesty makes it impossible to walk away. So I finally react, letting a grin escape from the corner of my lip. 

- You’re such a dork, Gee. - I chuckled, and his eyes opened wide.

- W-wait, does that mean…? - A confused happiness made Gerard freeze and look directly at me. 

-Yeah. - I approached him, smiling and rolling my eyes - I think I like you too, you idiot.

-Oh my God… - his hazel eyes glowed and a huge smile formed in his pink lips - this is like one of those rom-coms where the nerd actually wins?!

I shook my head, laughing at his words. He’s still red-faced and fumbling, but it’s clear now: he’s just a lovable, geeky mess who adores me in his own awkward way.

- No pressure or anything, but, uh... If we were in a romance movie, this would be the part where the two leads kiss.

I chuckled and my lips reached his. The warm sensation filled my body, the kiss was sloppy and desperate, felt like something he was holding for too long, something he couldn’t deal with anymore. His hands held my waist, and I wrapped my arms around his neck. He let out a soft moan and pulled back only to whisper:

- This feels like... you know... that scene in Return of the Jedi when-

- Gerard, - I interrupted, laughing. - Less Star Wars and more kissing, please.

- Right, yeah, sorry. - He turned bright red.

Gerard catched my lips again, deeper this time, with a bit more confidence. His hand slid to my waist, thumb brushing lazy circles against my skin, and his tongue explored my mouth, while he laid me down on his bed. His lips trailing down to my neck, scattering kisses that made my whole body buzz.

-You smell amazing. Like... that forest level in that one game. You know, the one where…

He trailed off, realizing how silly it sounded, but the look on his face was too earnest to be embarrassed.

- You are such a dork. - I laughed again, running my fingers through his messy hair. 

- Yeah, but I’m your dork, - he murmured, nuzzling into the crook of my neck, planting soft kisses along my collarbone.

His touch was gentle but hungry, as if each kiss, each brush of his fingers, was an apology for all the moments he’d spent longing for this. 

When he slid his hands under my shirt, he paused, looking at me with wide, nervous eyes. 

- Is this... okay? - he asked, shyly. The insecurity in his tone of voice was adorable, no more so than the sparkle in his eyes as he saw me give him a nod, lifting my arms so he could pull the shirt over my head. His gaze lingered on me, admiration glowing in his eyes. - Wow... You’re so -

- Gerard.-  I touched his face, guiding him back down for another kiss. - You’re doing fine.

He smiled, clearly relieved, and kissed me again, this time more eagerly. His hands, still trembling slightly, found their way to the button of my jeans. He fumbled for a moment, biting his lip in concentration. 

Once my jeans were off, he took a moment to just look at me, his hands resting on my hips as if grounding himself. 

- I don’t want to mess this up -  he whispered. 

- You’re not messing anything up, Gee..- i calmed him, brushing a thumb over his flushed cheek - Just... keep going

That was all the encouragement he needed. He kissed me again, his hands moving with a little more certainty now, sliding beneath my bra to touch bare skin. I gasped, arching into his touch, and he let out a shaky breath, somewhere between a moan and a laugh.

When he finally got out of his clothes, struggling with his belt in the process,

 -  Stupid thing… -  he muttered  flustered and I couldn't stop smiling. 

He was trying so hard, and there was something endearing about how eager yet unsure he was.

He kissed me again, slower this time, savoring the moment as his hands trailed down to my thighs, spreading them gently. His boxers were the last to go, and when I felt him against me, the heat between us became impossible to ignore.

- I’ve dreamed about this, - Gerard admitted breathlessly, kissing the side of my neck. - About you... For so long.

I felt my body react to him instinctively, desire building with every brush of his skin against mine. When he paused, hovering just at the edge, his eyes searched mine one last time.

- Is this okay? -  he whispered, his voice low and full of both need and vulnerability.

- Yes,-  I breathed, wrapping my arms around his neck, pulling him closer. - I want this, Gee.

And then, with a slow, careful thrust, his cock was inside me. I gasped, gripping his hair as my body adjusted to the sensation. The burn was sweet and overwhelming.

He started moving, hesitant at first, like he was still learning how to sync with me. But every time I moaned his name, he seemed to gain a little more confidence, his rhythm becoming more certain, more desperate.

The heat between us grew, the room filled with soft gasps and whispered encouragement. His hands roamed my body, one settling on my waist, the other cradling my face as if I were something precious. As deeper he was coming I felt the tension coil in my stomach, tighter and tighter, until I was teetering right on the edge. 

- I’m close…

- Do it, sugar, - he panted, his voice thick with need. - Cum for me.

With a final thrust, the pleasure crashed over me like a wave. I clenched around him, clinging to him, nails digging into his back as I moaned his name, lost in the intensity of it.

Gerard groaned, his movements faltering as he reached his own release. The warmth of the ropes of his cum filling me up pushed me deeper into my own bliss, and we stayed like that, tangled together, catching our breath.

He pressed a lazy kiss to my shoulder, his body still trembling slightly. 

- Wow… -  he whispered, sounding both dazed and amazed. - That was... better than any dream I’ve ever had.

I laughed softly, brushing damp hair from his forehead. 

- Yeah. Way better.

___________________________________________

~ sooo, that's it! Let me know if you liked! :)

[hazelfoureyes]

Sending in anon because I'm a coward... 😩

I'm a new reader, and I just have to say-- your "a doe in fall" series is just... AMAZING!!

I could go on, and on and on about how much I love it. But what gets me the most is always Alastor's dialogue, because as someone who is also on the aro/ace spectrum, I just get it so much. Especially the subtle hoping that reader can like... Read his mind about how he feels for her, and the weird sort of stockholm syndrome we sometimes develop with ourselves after being alone with only our own company for so long, and it really is, lol, like you just get so used to being alone for so long because you know the idea people have of you, you can't truly live up to, so you don't want to "disappoint" them that you actually aren't like they are, so you just sorta... Keep them occupied at arms length-- Therefore you're forced to adapt to your company being the only love you have for a long time. it's like an obligation.

And when or if the special somebody who understands you comes along, you realize... "Wow, I've been living like this for so long, is this what it feels like to be loved and appreciated, in spite of my oddities, or maybe even in favor of them? Strange..."

Emphasis on the "strange" part because, when you're so deeply entrenched in your own soul, sharing your space for another almost feels more like learning how to swim rather than an instant "click", sparks, fireworks and whatnot. The excitement of the magical "other" has been long since drowned and snuffed out of you.

So, when this somebody who is similar to you, or just simply understands, doesn't try to change you or ignore you, but instead envelopes you and adores you, the appreciation is deep and overflowing. But there's a part of you always pinching your heart, a sort of awareness of something that isn't the case, wondering "Is this a dream? what if it is and I'll wake up and this is not at all what I was thinking?".

Haha... ANYWAY, sorry for the slightly morose and LONG read 😂 But I always think of how similar I am to how you write alastor and it's scary in a way, but comforting (especially since he's my first and biggest fictional crush) except in this case my profession would actually be burlesque. Especially since I work in the exotic dance world. It's fascinating being aro/ace in the SW world, I could go on forever- But yeah, I absolutely love your writing!! Makes me feel less alone in this world. Annnd surprisingly I always feel so sensual after reading, I love love love it!! Reading before work always gets me in the mood to dance and pretend I'm Y/N, lol!!

Much blessings ❤️❤️

*cracks knuckles* listen here babycakes, I eat this shit UP. Exploring Human Ace Alastor is my BREAD AND BUTTER. I go into ESSAYS in the AO3 comments in this 😂

you really understand, which makes me so happy and is confirmation I’m conveying him the way I want to.

Now I’m gonna ramble and echo you basically 😂

I really think Alastor (atleast in this story) feels that excitement and strangeness of how open he can be around Autumn (since she doesn’t have a proper name cuz she’s reader 😂). He’s a fish out of water despite the fact he’s actually being his most authentic self. Like you said, it’s new to him just to be … Alastor. To be honest and upfront. His normal operating mode has been so restricted for so long he’s struggling with how to be himself. And then that fear—- well what if I’m too much? What if I ruin this, when I finally have something worth keeping? He’s never gotten this far and the fear of losing that comfort is terrifying but so is the actual comfort itself. It’s new and foreign.

A deep uneasiness that’s if he fully embraces this he’s gonna just fuck it up and it’ll be his fault this time. Not a misunderstanding or misalignment of needs but a confirmation he wasn’t good enough anyway.

“it is better to have loved and lost than never loved at all” he would say that’s bullshit

and because of the situations he’s been in before, he’s never gotten to actually explore physical intimacy in a “safe” environment. He was always going into interactions because he had to if he wanted to keep people around. It was a necessity, not something he actually sincerely wanted to participate. So he tried to keep them happy with other means of affection and intimacy to maintain some safe distance but eventually, always, things would fall apart. At a distance or up close.

that’s why that most recent part was called Learning. Alastor is trying new things to learn more about what he’s okay with or doesn’t care for even offering in the future. Autumn is learning (that night, tho she doesn’t understand it yet) that he’s still figuring out how to meet her halfway (even tho she’s not even asking for that) when he’s used to being forced to meet people where they are. And Detective Brady, of course, is learning he may have found motive for Tommy’s disappearance.

I’m really glad you’re enjoying his portrayal and that you’re resonating with parts of him! That makes my soul hum! 💖 your line of work mixed with your Aro/Ace-ness sounds like such an interesting conversation if we’re honest! That’s a small aspect I love about Autumn. She’s in this field that’s (wrongly) considered to be hyper sexual and full of air headed wanton whores, but she’s the first person to be like “oh! You aren't into this stuff. Let me adjust my expectations. I’ll ask for clear verbal consent, not initiate, and I’m totally okay with never fucking again if it’s for your love and company.”

I work in the SW industry in a sense (Personal Assistant) and one of my biggest pet peeves is all of the shit people project on SWers.

sorry for the essay I could talk about this for ETERNITY

omg and THANK YOU! 🥺💖💖💖💖

Referencing:

A Doe in Fall (Human Alastor x Burlesquer Fem Reader)

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦

[thewalrusespublicist]

Stress Testing Song Lyric Theories: Real Love/Real Life/Stepping Out Demo Meta

What's this? Another long-ass essay analysis on a piece of John Lennon's media that keeps getting taken down by the Ono Lennon estate? More likely than you think (especially when you're this autistic).

As a history obsessive and a grizzled, mood ruining, eternal hater/skeptic, I have misgivings when people in the Beatles fandom look at song lyrics only through one specific lens/focus as it can lead to a myopic and potentially inaccurate take of the subject matter. This I've noticed is particularly bad with older Beatles fans looking at John's work through just the Yoko lens and other fans looking at it just through the Paul lens. (This ain't a lecture btw, I am as guilty as anyone when it comes to doing both.)

When dealing with contentious things like interpreting feelings and songs (nothing could POSSIBLY go wrong with that combo lol), it's important to get at least the facts we do have straight, which is why I wanted to go through some of the fandom's darlings and take them apart to see if the theories about them actually hold up to scrutiny.

To start out, I'd thought I go big with having a proper look at John Lennon's 1977 real life/real love/stepping out demo. I wanted to tackle this one as this is one of only three unconfirmed songs in John's catalogue that I was 100 % convinced was about Paul. As I've mentioned before, this was to me the smoking gun to end all smoking guns, my golden calf, Real Love demo my beloved etc. Got to say, I'm glad I did, as the outcome was a lot more complicated than expected! So let's get to the demo:

Analyzing songs for a fixed specific meaning or one coherent subject is always ... challenging. Songs are a medium to express both real or imagined concepts, feelings and events. You can't know everything about the artist's thought process and therefore their work, especially in regards to what is fictional/metaphorical and what is real (pun intended). What's special about this demo though (and what makes it easier to work with) is the fact that its less of a fully crafted song and more one long stream of consciousness ramble. The line between subject and artist is dissolved as we sit at the piano with John as he tells us about his miserable morning:

Woke up this morning. Blues around my head. Ain't no need to ask the reason why. Went to the kitchen. Lit a cigarette. Blew the smoke rings in the sky. Just got to let it go. Just got to let it go.

The song (or ramble) carries on like that for a while as we get to John reading the newspaper (keep this bit in mind, it might come in handy later):

Picked up the paper. Read the Daily News. Nothing doing anyway. Same old BS. Doot doot doot doot cruise. Nah nah nah nah now. Let go. Let it go. (laughs) No, what am I doing? Why don't you let it go? Why don't you let it go? Mm, it's real life. It's real. Yes, it's real life. It's real. Let go. Let the mighty river flow. Let go. Let go. Oh, rock your balls, you...

As we can see in the stanza above, John is bored and clearly agitated/embarrassed about something.

Then more stanzas about boredom and a lack of fulfilment wherever he goes and then we get to the stanza that everyone here is probably familiar with:

Was I just dreaming or was it only yesterday? I used to hold you in my arms. And now a baby, and another on the way (laughs) la la la la la farm (laughs) Why must we be alone? Wah wah wah wah wah wah wah. (scats)

If it don't feel right, don't do it. If it don't look right, look right through it If it don't feel right, don't do it. Just call him/them on the phone.

People go insane over this stanza and for good reason. It's a confession of lost intimacy with someone who:

Is clearly important to John

He is now more distant with

Is connected to babies or having a baby

Is connected to a farm

The mystery of course is, who is this person? Realistically, there is only really three people we know of who even somewhat fit these specific categories. Let's go through them:

First potential subject: Yoko!

This one has some legs. More than I was expecting. At this point John and her:

Do have an infant

Are purchasing a farm together (I think the sale went through 1978 so they should be talking about that in 1977.)

Distant from one another (their marriage was rocky throughout the mid-late 70s)

With Yoko as the subject, the stanza could be a reflection of their lost intimacy:

Was I just dreaming or was it only yesterday? I used to hold you in my arms. - self explanatory, the yesterday here has no significance but to signify nostalgia. The dream in this circumstance could be the dream of their relationship, The Ballad of John and Yoko.

And now a baby, and another on the way (laughs) la la la la la farm (laughs) - A long time has passed, they have a kid now. Now this takes some manipulation but is the farm 'the baby on the way'? The new shared project that will take further attention away from their marriage? The laugh might indicate a sense of irony there, a bitter joke. Yoko and John have struggled to conceive, Sean is very likely their only shared child. Is the laugh brought about by a sad reflection of the farm replacing the gap of children?

Why must we be alone? Wah wah wah wah wah wah wah. (scats) - we are in this marriage but we are alone OR why are we alone? Their marriage was a cocoon, all-consuming but stifling. Maybe both of them needed air from time-to-time.

So this stanza alone works quite well to be about Yoko, if you go quite metaphorical. It works somewhat with the beginning as well, he's down and depressed, over the state of their marriage? He needs to let something go, an argument? Is he waking up to the fact that reality isn't this marriage fantasy?

What it doesen't straightforwardly answer is why he is SO mad/embarrassed/avoidant of these feelings? In the records we have of their conversations, John is usually VERY vocal about not seeing Yoko enough. So why is he holding feelings of distance back and wanting to forget about it?

It also doesn't answer why the person he is calling in the following stanza on the phone is a him/them. (It's hard to hear at a normal volume. but if you are an insane person and blast your headphones to an ear bleeding level, it sounds a lot more like him than them. For the sake of caution and covering all bases however, let's consider both for now.) Why would he have reticence calling his wife or refer to her as them? In all accounts of that time period he has no issue calling her or hell, just going and talking to HIS WIFE who lives in their shared flat. It's a weird, dangling thread. The only explanation that would fit the stanza being inspired by Yoko is John realising he needs connection outside of his fading marriage. (I want to raise and partially dismiss here that it could just be a separate train of thought, a reminder to himself that he has to call someone for a chore/service. Yoko handled most of the admin stuff so its not like he's doing any of that and he isn't doing anything professionally so its unlikely to be a random call).

Second potential subject: May Pang!

Now I almost dismissed May outright but girl you know what, good for you, this might actually be about you! Our dear May is:

Important to John (she's also in the diaries and he dreams about sleeping with her a lot, he is REALLY into May)

Distant now he and Yoko are back together

But not baby nor farm adjacent

Taking May in mind, there is a certain logic there. John allegedly does dream about May and sleeping with May so whilst the Yesterday has no significance, the dreaming would. She was his romantic partner and still into her so holding in arms makes sense. The next lines also make sense if you follow the same logic as Yoko's but more distanced. Time has passed and his circumstances with the baby and the farm is now massively different to before, maybe he wants an escape from responsibility represented by May?

With May in mind, the stanzas work a lot better than it does Yoko. It's real life, he can't be with her and he's got to let it go. But he can't so he wants to call 'them'. Or maybe he's had a fight with Yoko and is being reminded of May in his agitation.

So May works from an emotional standpoint and as long as that last line is really 'them'. (It begs the question of why not 'her' but anyway.) As it stands, May seems like a stronger candidate than Yoko in terms of the songs emotional logic.

So currently, May is in the lead but wait ... there's another contender...

Third potential subject: Paul!

Now this one is I think the fan favourite opinion on this site for this song and there's merit to it. Paul is:

Important to John

Relationship now distant (but not apparently distant enough for John to ALLEGEDLY stop dedicating pagggess to him in his diary/meet for dinner when they are in town/visit for Christmas).

Doesen't have a baby but he is expecting one with Linda.

John's got problems and those problems are usually projected onto a Paul shaped target. But beneath all that, was there any softness left, any tenderness?

Well yes, its fucking John Lennon, the man was a giant marshmallow with knives sticking out.

But in this song? Let's look at the stanza with Paul in mind:

Was I just dreaming or was it only yesterday? I used to hold you in my arms. - in the first line we have the 'oh shit Paul feelings incoming' klaxon of yesterday. Of course, John is allowed to reference yesterday without it necessarily being about Paul, but it's something to make a note of. Another is the dreaming. John often associates the Beatles/Paul with a dream, a fantasy, an illusion. Was his time with Paul/their closeness a dream? He is also ALLEGEDLY dreaming of Paul a lot during this period. The distance implied by yesterday also suggests a time period more applicable to Paul than Yoko/May.

The holding in arms with Paul in mind is ... well. There's no two ways about it it's unusual to think about a best friend like that. Taking out romantic implications for the sake of argument, firstly it doesn't have to be literal (just the idea of closeness) and second of all it would be like the fiftieth weirdest thing John said about Paul John has expressed similar sentiments of enjoying physical touch and closeness with a close mate.

And now a baby, and another on the way (laughs) la la la la la farm (laughs) - also needs manipulation here but still works. John's got a baby with his wife now Paul has a baby on the way with his wife yet their lives are completely separate. John could also be talking in extremes, Paul has just had a kid now another (he exaggerates the number of kids Paul has often). Paul lives on a farm, which John has been very focused on before (stttreeetch but maybe this is a point of comparison, they are still mirroring each other). The laugh here in this reading is a acknowledgement of vulnerability of the feelings he's singing about.

Why must we be alone? Wah wah wah wah wah wah wah. (scats) - harder to reconcile with Paul but could be John's projection hours, I am feeling alone therefore Paul must ALSO be feeling alone (unagi or some shit).

So the stanza also works well if we take it to be about Paul. I've said this in a prev post but being about Paul also makes the rest of the song more coherent. John is upset about something he is trying to let go of but is struggling with, he references being everywhere yet remains depressed and troubled by something in his past. All of this fits with John's relationship with Paul. With Paul in mind, the call line at the end makes a lot more sense. He wants to call him, or them, his friends who he hasn't spoken to and misses.

The big supporting evidence for this one is of course the newspaper articles for the Daily News found by a user on here who has sadly deactivated.

To be honest, these are a bit of a holy grail find. With the newspaper articles in mind, a coherent, nearly perfect narrative falls neatly into place. John has woken up in a bad mood and upon reading the paper he sinks into a worse mood as he reflects back on his old time with the Beatles. He feels the need to let it go yet is resentful and embarrassed about doing so. The articles also explain a few oddities of the song, namely why John just comes out with the word cruise just after discussing the paper:

Picked up the paper. Read the Daily News. Nothing doing anyway. Same old BS. Doot doot doot doot cruise. Nah nah nah nah now. Let go. Let it go. (laughs) No, what am I doing? Why don't you let it go? Why don't you let it go? Mm, it's real life.

If we consider that the newspaper contained the article about cruises, it makes sense for it to come out as a subconscious/conscious association (have checked btw as the audio isn't clear and it's absolutely cruise, it's much clearer when you decide your hearing is worth less than a parasocial fascination with a dead dude). The newspaper containing info about Paul also illuminates the potential reference to Paul's song 'Suicide' in the Nothing Doing line and why the stanza seems to go off the rails once the newspaper is mentioned. It's all BS apparently (classic John defense mechanism in play) but once it gets brought up, John laughs, starts questioning what he's even doing writing this song and then gets angry with himself, cutting off the first half of the take. The derailment there could be he can't believe he's singing about the news OR that the newspaper contains the emotional point he's trying to get away from. He then does a few pithy lines about the beach and mountain before circling to actually what's bothering him, the lost intimacy with the person who has a baby on the way and renewed desire to call him. The way it all fits and slots together is borderline unreal.

Buuuuttt ... there's a problem. No matter how fitting, how magically perfect, how right-seeming a theory is, it doesen't necessarily mean it's true. For it to work fully, John would have had to have recorded this on one (or two at a stretch) specific day(s) out of the whole year. It could still be about Paul of course if you take out the newspaper article element, however there are other timing issues as well. According to Dogget, this demo should date to a recording collection from late 1977 when John was going through a depressive episode, the article is dated to early 1977. Shortening the window further, the Ono-Lennon's took a trip to Japan from Summer to October and the Mccartney's third child was born in September, meaning that if it is from late 1977, its unlikely to be about Paul.

Now Dogget could very well be mistaken and this demo is from earlier on in the year. From research, the only thing I could find about John and Yoko in February 1977 is them going to visit a friend a few hours away on the 16th, so from the limited evidence I have at my disposal, there isnt a reason why it couldn't have been produced in February (if anyone has any info on early 1977 please let me know and I'll amend accordingly). Additionally, John's moods were mercurial and his mental health never great, it wouldn't surprise me if he had bad days pretty consistently throughout the year.

To wrap this whole ass dissertation up, from the context within the song, context of the major players in his life, the emotional logic of the song and the repeated references in addition to the newspaper clipping, I am 70% confident that this demo is about Paul and that Dogget was incorrect in his attribution of the demo to late 1977. I believe instead that this was recorded in early 1977, specifically on February 9th 1977 as indicated in the newspaper article. However, I am more than willing to concede that I am working on less information than I would like about John's movements at that time in early 1977 and why Dogget placed all of these in the late 1977 grouping (I think just vibes but wasn't sure, the google books page had that bit blocked lol). Therefore I think that a less likely but still plausible second option is that the subject is May or even Yoko in late 1977 during John's extended period of depression.

Power to all of you who made it this far, let me know if you want me to take a hatchet to any more fandom darlings or if you have any thing to add! Also remember this is only my analysis so feel free to disagree (but like in a fun friendly way pls, it isn't that serious)!