#anyway. that concludes this morning’s procrastination while I’m at work

[jimmyspades]

[btsmosphere]

Big Enough for Both of Us | JJK

~summary: his jumpers are going missing. And ending up on you. An annoying amount of books, some very cold weather and an admin mix-up later, will things change between you and Jungkook? Jungkook x reader (she/her pronouns) ~word count: 4.7k ~college au, fluff, getting together Rating: pg13 Warnings: one (1) swear, suggestive conversation and misunderstandings ~a/n: another bingo square, this time for ‘oversized hoodies/sweaters’ as an early Christmas present for you all!

You were shivering as you turned the keys to your locker, barely balancing the stack of books in your arms as you did so. Not wearing a jacket today was something you were sorely regretting, muscles groaning in protest from the cold and the weight you had lugged here.

The squeak of the old locker was the most welcome things you had heard all day, already preparing to shift the cursed pile of books off your struggling arms.

But as the door clanged softly open, all you could do was stare.

Something was already there.

Despite the pressing problem of the books weighing you down, you paused to look up and down the corridor. No one. Frowning, you peeked around to see the front of the locker door. This was definitely your locker, right?

Number 267. That was right.

Only, you had never used this locker before in your life. It had taken you until now, in December, to open it for the first time, even though you had started at college months back.

So the piece of black fabric sitting there, neatly folded, innocuous enough in any other situation, was a real curveball for you.

As you pondered, the top book on your tower decided to make a break for it, arms reminding you just how tired they were when you moved to catch it. Sighing, you leaned forwards and let them fall from your arms, right on top of the sweater.

You were pretty sure it was a sweater.

Whoever had this locker last year probably left it there by accident. It probably stunk by now, too.

Whether that was the case or not, you never got to investigate. A buzzing from your phone alerted you that your first lecture was about to start, your friend Namjoon asking where you were. So, without a second glance at the jumper, you slammed the door and rushed away.

It wasn’t until two classes later that it resurfaced in your thoughts.

The heating must have been broken in that class, or else your professor just liked to see you suffer. Throughout the lecture, you had been slowly freezing, resorting to rubbing your hands over your arms to ease your goosebumps.

And now that you piled out of the hall into the already dimming light, you found it was colder still.

The library was halfway across campus, and you were due to meet Namjoon there to make a start on your essays. Right about now, that mystery sweater did sound very tempting. And you did have to go back to your locker anyway to get the books, right?

Placing the stack by your feet, you stared at the material. It had been a bit flattened by the weight that had sat on it all day, but it looked clean at least.

Reaching in, you picked it up at the shoulder between one finger and thumb and leant in to smell it.

The first sniff returned a pleasant surprise. Nothing. Holding it in both your hands now, you brought it right up to your face, almost touching, and tried again.

It actually smelled good.

Come to think of it, it felt very soft between your fingers too.

Cold clutched so tightly onto your bones at this point that you couldn’t wait to get another layer on, so you stuck your arms inside. Sighing, you noted it must be quite new given how soft it still was.

You had got lucky.

Shaking the sleeves down, they fell way over your hands. The hem also came very low, nearly to your knees, but honestly, that felt like a bonus.

And so, lifting up the pile of books, you felt a little lighter (and much warmer) as you stepped out to meet Namjoon with your new big, soft jumper.

“I would say sorry I’m late, but I blame you,” you quipped as you slid into the chair beside Namjoon, depositing the books onto the desk with a loud thud, “were this many really necessary?”

Looking up at you from his own book, Namjoon had the decency to look a little apologetic as he laid eyes on the huge stack.

“Ah – yes – sorry,” he stuttered, “they did all look helpful. I suppose we’d better get through them all today so we can return them?”

Even his dimpled smile couldn’t stop you from groaning and flopping down onto your folded arms. Laughing, he pulled the first book off the pile, undeterred.

“I need coffee for this,” you mumbled.

But as you made to get up, Namjoon tugged you back down by your sleeve.

“You should make a start,” he fixed you with a look, “let’s go to the cafeteria later.”

Closing your mouth, you eyed up the intimidating pile of books. Of course, Namjoon knew you all too well, and was right. If you didn’t start working now, you could procrastinate for ages.

But you did want that coffee…

“If we wait til later, Jungkook will be there!”

Namjoon’s words had left his mouth the moment he saw you preparing to speak, and had snatched the argument right from your lips.

“Wh-what?” you spluttered, “What does that have to do with it?”

A knowing smile rested on Namjoon’s face as he placed a book in front of you.

You flipped it open and got to work.

Namjoon’s wish to get through all the books by closing time was a distant daydream. Half the books still sat untouched, and your essay still had a way to go.

Nonetheless, you weren’t going to stay slaving away all night. You made sure Namjoon remembered his earlier promise of coffee… although you didn’t mention the part about Jungkook.

Naturally, he was there anyway. Namjoon smirked as he left your side with his coffee order, waiting for you to stop staring at his friend and notice he was gone.

It took longer than you would care to admit.

Jungkook was a music student, and since Namjoon fancied himself a producer, he spent enough time in the department that he essentially was too, meaning he had a group of friends there as well as from his own course. And of course the boy you had been silently crushing on in the cafeteria since day one was one of them.

Unfortunately for you, Namjoon hadn’t prepared you for this when he decided to introduce you one day, and you had practically forgotten your own name as you found yourself suddenly in front the gorgeous Jungkook.

And just to add insult to injury, he had been really sweet to you.

Really, he was just asking you to fall for him.

You had promptly decided to stay away from him as much as you could help it. Until you were ready, you told yourself.

Which wouldn’t be anytime soon, given the way your cheeks combusted as he smiled over at your table. While Namjoon waved back, you studied your coffee cup very intensely.

“He’s gone,” Namjoon let you know, swinging back in his chair to take a swig of coffee.

Which was too hot.

And was now all over the table.

After your initial jump from your seat, all you could do was laugh as your friend started frantically mopping up the liquid, using already sodden napkins.

“Do you need some help?”

At the voice behind you, your jaw snapped shut.

Jungkook walked past you, grin splitting his face as he laughed at his hyung too.

“Thanks, Jungkook,” Namjoon chuckled.

You ran off to get more napkins.

On your return, you quickly helped clear the rest of the mess, rescuing your own drink from the pool on the tabletop. Seeing Namjoon had his things together, you also scooped up your bag. But no books.

Looking around for the godforsaken pile, you found them sitting in Jungkook’s arms.

“Oh, thanks,” you muttered, “I can take those, if you want-“

“It’s okay,” he beamed (would he ever stop smiling, he might make you drop down dead-).

“We’re getting the same bus, so I might as well bring them tomorrow,” Joon clapped his shoulder, “saves you breaking your arms again, right Y/N?”

“My arms weren’t breaking!” you scoffed, folding them against your chest.

“So you want to take them?” Jungkook raised a brow at you.

You blinked at him.

Then huffed and rolled your eyes.

“No…”

Laughing loudly, Namjoon led the two of you out of the cafeteria.

It was a good thing Jungkook carried the books. If this morning was anything to go by, you wouldn’t have enjoyed another walk with them.

Hugging your borrowed sweater around you a little more, you picked up the pace.

How Jungkook could have been outside in just that t shirt blew your mind. It was freezing.

“Can I borrow your locker key?” Namjoon whispered from the seat beside you.

“Why?” you hissed back, keeping your eyes forwards.

“Mine’s full,” he replied, “and we still have all these books.”

“We really had to get them all out at once, didn’t we?” you sighed, already digging in your bag for your keys.

“Someone else might have done otherwise!” Joon protested.

Underneath the desk, you passed him the keys.

“Number 267, okay?”

“Thanks.”

Once again, you had made very poor clothing choices. To be fair to you, the weather was supposed to have gotten warmer, so you had only put on a thin jumper. The outfit certainly looked good, but other than that, it was a bad idea. Tomorrow, you would put on a coat. Or maybe that jumper you had found yesterday…

Dashing between buildings to fetch the books again, you were convinced you might get hypothermia. The wind was biting across the already chilled air, sky an unforgiving grey above.

Inside, you fumbled with your key, fingers stiff with cold.

You hadn’t seen Joon since your first lecture, except when he ran past your study spot to throw your keys at you – literally – on his way to the music studios. You were lucky to still have both your eyes.

But maybe he had thought of you, because there beside the books, was a sweater.

Perhaps it was a mirage – could you get them from cold instead of heat? Reaching out to touch it, you concluded it was definitely real, but must be some kind of miracle. Dropping your bag to the ground straight away, you shoved the jumper on and huddled into it, bunching the sleeves around your frozen hands.

It was dark green, and you were sure you had seen Joon wearing a jumper like this before.

Thanking every deity out there that your friend had predicted your habit to dress poorly for the weather, you hauled the books out of the locker and set off for your study session.

Today you arrived first. Pulling out your phone, you sat back and waited for Joon to turn up.

When he did, you looked up from your phone to find he had stopped in front of your desk, staring back at you.

“You are a lifesaver,” you said, setting your phone aside and sitting forwards.

Blinking, he shook his head. “What?”

Frowning, you repeated yourself.

“I said you’re a lifesaver… for the jumper,” you clarified, “I was so cold, I could barely open my locker-“

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“What do you mean? Did you not leave this for me…” you frowned.

“No.”

You both stared at each other.

“Okay. Well, whose is it then?” you asked, pulling your chin to your chest to look down at the jumper you had on.

“Where did you find it?” Namjoon ignored your question, sitting down at last.

“It was in my locker, with the books,” you explained.

“But it’s not yours?”

“No!”

“It was there when I put them in this morning, though, I thought it must have been.”

“What the hell?” you struggled to find any other words.

“I guess someone else left it for you,” Joon shrugged.

Incredulous, you watched as he pulled out his laptop and opened it, unbothered by the strange apparition of your jumper.

“You think someone broke into my locker to leave me a jumper?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed, “but can you pass me the one by Hastings-“

Sighing, you dropped the matter and pulled his requested book from the middle of the stack, choosing the top one to start on yourself.

Though you let it go long enough to get through a bit more of your essay, you were absolutely going to put the jumper back after you were done. Knowing you were wearing someone’s sweater, you felt the gazes of everyone walking past as if they somehow knew, and were about to denounce you for being a sweatshirt thief in the middle of the library.

But, as it happened, the cold weather was hellbent on dissolving your goodwill.

There was no. way. you were going outside in any less layers than you currently had on. The trip to your locker brought you to that conclusion soon enough, and so you chucked the books in and hugged the sweater tighter.

That night, the shapes of the two jumpers you had ‘borrowed’ so far seemed to stick out in the dark. It may not be anything dramatic, but since they weren’t yours, you couldn’t keep them.

Thankfully, the morning brought actual sun with it.

And your phone told you it would get warmer still.

Your phone lied.

That morning, you had worn the green jumper, intending to take it off and return it to the locker when you reached campus and the day had warmed up.

In the event, nothing of the sort happened. You had bumped into Namjoon and one of his friends from music, Yoongi. The three of you had talked outside until it was time for class, so you headed straight for your lecture with Joon.

Your next step outside was when you knew you had messed up.

All trace of sun had disappeared, sky darkened with cloud again. Any heat this morning held had gone away too.

But you were determined. You huffed as you pulled the sweater over your head later on, placing it back into the locker despite the way you were already shivering from the walk over.

In the library, the pile of books dwindled steadily down, but you got no warmer. Seriously, this place needed to invest in some better heating.

Screw morals, you were getting that jumper back.

“I’ll be back,” you muttered, sliding away before Joon could reply.

Apart from that, you made the walk to your locker in record time, probably since no books weighed you down.

As you approached the building you were aiming for, the door swung open. On seeing you, the emerging figure slowed down and held the door behind them. Speeding up, you reached the door at a slight jog before you even noticed who it was.

Jungkook.

“Hi Y/N!” he said brightly.

“H-hi!” you smiled back, “how are you?”

“Good thanks,” he smiled too, leaning against the door, “just heading to the cafeteria.”

“Oh, Joon and I should be along soon,” you nodded.

“Cool, I’ll see you,” he flashed his grin again.

Finally greeted with the warmth of inside, you looked over your shoulder at Jungkook’s retreating back. Why on earth was he in a t shirt? Shaking your head, you made your way to your locker with a smile.

Look at you go! A normal, nice conversation with Jungkook! And hopefully you could put an end to the relentless study session if you told Namjoon you were expected to go and get coffee with Jungkook.

Clinking, your key turned in the lock and you pulled the locker open with a sigh of relief-

A new sweater.

Interesting.

Tilting your head to the side, you stared at it as if it might get up and explain itself any moment.

Rather than the green one you had abandoned earlier, a burgundy bundle lay there instead. Sighing sharply, you decided you had come all this way for warmth, after all, and if someone was going to insist on putting jumpers in your locker, then you were going to wear them.

Which is how you found yourself enveloped contentedly in the latest of the apparently continuous line of warm, cosy sweaters, sipping coffee from between you sweater paws at a table with Namjoon, Jungkook, Jin and Taehyung.

Perhaps you weren’t entirely used to being in someone else’s jumper yet, because you kept feeling uneasy, as if the others at your table were looking at you with sideways glances.

Shaking it off, you smiled along with the conversation. You were definitely imagining it. Even if you didn’t talk to them that much, Namjoon’s friends were always lovely to you.

Eventually, the cups lay empty and the boys were discussing meeting the others in the studio. Noticing the branches outside the window swaying wildly, you decided you could put off the walk home no longer, or the weather would only keep getting worse, knowing your luck.

“See you later,” you excused yourself to a round of small waves and smiles from the others.

All the others, except, strangely, Jungkook. He had always been very easy-going with you, so you tried not to read into it when he only gave a tiny smile before ducking his head again.

On your way out, you noticed Yoongi coming in and exchanged a nod.

But with you on your merry way, you had no idea of the situation you had left behind.

Jungkook’s cheeks were burning as he tried to ignore the pointed stares of his friends. Lips pulled in between his teeth, he tentatively looked up, through the hair hanging into his eyes.

“Kook…” Namjoon was the first to speak, eyebrows raised as he watched the younger boy.

“What?” he squeaked, chewing at his lip right after. Who was he kidding? They all knew ‘what’.

Looking over to Tae and Jin brought no solace, both looking equally confused and expectant. Silence stretched out between them as Jungkook tried to string together a coherent thought with all eyes on him.

“So when were you going to tell us you’re hooking up with Y/N?”

Jungkook choked on thin air. Looking up, he saw Yoongi sauntering across to their table, thankfully grabbing the attention away from Jungkook.

“What do you- I’m- we’re- we’re not-“

“It’s alright Kook, you can tell us,” Jin offered, eyes wide in an attempt at being consoling. It wasn’t helping.

“There’s nothing to tell!” he insisted.

“Doesn’t explain why she was wearing your jumper,” Tae interjected.

“Has been for days,” Yoongi helpfully chimed in next.

Jungkook hid his head in his hands.

“I thought she just left for a study break,” Namjoon piped up next, “I can’t believe you two! On campus, really?”

“We are not sleeping together!” Jungkook hissed, succeeding in shutting him up, “I don’t know why she’s wearing that!”

“Sure,” Yoongi scoffed.

“You’ve had a crush on her for so long, I swear we’re happy for you,” Tae leant forwards, “I’m just offended you didn’t tell us.”

“What?” Jungkook was getting more frustrated.

“It’s no secret you like her,” Jin agreed.

“You knew?! Why didn’t you say anything?” Jungkook stared at his friends in disbelief.

“To let you deal with it yourself,” Jin mumbled eventually, “are you- are you telling us you seriously still haven’t done anything about it?”

“I haven’t,” Jungkook admitted.

“You have a crush on Y/N?” Namjoon asked incredulously.

“What’s the deal with the jumpers then? I’m lost,” Yoongi said.

“Hello!?” Namjoon interrupted, “Kook has a crush on Y/N?”

Groaning, Jungkook dragged his hands down his face.

“Yes, Joon. I like her,” he muttered, “and I don’t know, Yoongi. I don’t know how she keeps getting my jumpers.”

“Well, ask for them back then,” Jin shrugged, sitting back.

Jungkook just sighed.

“Oh my god, he likes it!” Tae gasped in glee, an infuriating grin splitting his face.

Jungkook was sure he wouldn’t get cold walking home if his cheeks maintained this temperature.

“Hold on…” Namjoon suddenly leaned forwards, “the other day, she asked me if I had put a jumper in her locker. We thought someone had left it for her.”

“It was in her locker?”

“Yep.”

“Well, that’s weird. I didn’t put them there.”

“This is ridiculous,” Yoongi groaned loudly, “I thought Kook had finally sorted this stupid crush. I couldn’t care less about the damn sweaters. Let’s go to the studio, Jimin and Hobi are waiting.”

“What are you doing?”

You almost jumped out of your skin. Having just picked your books up from your locker (how the pile was still this big, you had no idea), you turned around to find none other than Jungkook stood staring at you.

Clutching the stack tightly to avoid a landslide after that jumpscare, you looked up at him. A light crease made itself known between his eyebrows.

“Just… getting these books,” you gulped. Now it had started beating again, your heart wouldn’t seem to shut up at such close proximity to him.

He continued frowning at you, expecting more, but all you could think about was how cute he was, even when he was annoyed. How is that even possible?

“That’s my locker.”

That startled you from your stupor. It was your turn to frown now, taken aback by his statement.

“…no, it’s not,” you said slowly, “that’s my locker.”

“Look,” he said then, before pulling a key from his pocket. Holding it up, you clearly saw the familiar number 267 glinting back at you.

Frown growing deeper, you struggled to balance the books in one arm while the other fumbled for your own key. As you flattened your palm, he leant in to see it.

“267,” he muttered, staring between yours and his. “what the…”

“That’s odd,” you frowned, “I guess we should talk to reception, but I, uh, I have class-“

“Y/N,” he slid into your way as you took a step, “um…”

As you waited for him to talk, he hesitated, tongue slipping out momentarily to wet his lips as he rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. At last, he took a breath, barely looking at you, and spoke.

“People have been asking me, ab-about us-“

Your eyes grew five times bigger in a millisecond. Did Jeon Jungkook just use the word us, talking to you?!?

“-they’re asking why you’re wearing my jumpers, and-and I guess I know why now, but-“

Oh.

Oh no.

No no no no no no no.

The jumpers you had been taking the liberty of stealing belonged to Jungkook?

Oh hell no.

“Shit, I’m sorry- uhh, I’ll get them all back to you, I swear,” you hurriedly spoke, backing away from him, “but I really need to go class, so, um, I’ll see you!”

And with that, you were walking as fast as your legs could carry you, far away from the most embarrassing situation since the time your pants had ripped when you were twelve. People had been asking Jungkook about you? They thought you were together?

You felt awful. All through your lecture, you could barely hear your professor over your internal screaming. What must Jungkook think about this? About you?

Ditching the pile of godawful, cursed books with Joon, you hurried to your locker, hoping that no one would be in sight so you could shove the jumper away. You were wearing the first one you had found. You could return the rest later.

Yes, you would be freezing, but you would have to deal with it.

Roughly pulling it over your head as you reached your locker, the corridor mercifully empty, you threw open the door.

But something was already there.

You wouldn’t have paid it any attention, except there was a note sat on top. And it had your name on it. Underneath the note sat something dark blue and suspiciously hoodie-shaped.

Eyeing it warily, you read the note.

Y/N, I’m sorry, I should have explained better. You don’t have to put the jumpers back, or even stop wearing them. In fact, if you keep wearing them I would be very happy. I brought this for you – it’s the biggest hoodie I own and I hope you like it. I need to tell you something, and I’m clearly better at writing it down than saying it to you, but I want to say it. I really like you, Y/N. You don’t have to feel the same, but you can at least keep the sweaters and stay warm. JK xx

This couldn’t be real. Eyes darting to and fro re-reading the message, you reached out to take the paper between your fingers. Apparently, it was real.

Letting it drop back onto the blue hoodie, you looked around you to find the hallway still empty.

Now this wasn’t fair. Jungkook couldn’t make your all your dreams come true and then hide somewhere. You had to find him.

Stuffing the first jumper you stole away, you pulled out the new gift and tugged it on. Not only was it huge, but it was so soft. When you found him, you were going to find out what detergent he used.

Either way, you spared little time to enjoy the warm hug in jumper form, instead racing off to track down Jungkook. Zipping through the cafeteria proved fruitless, and you even stopped in the library. Joon was in there, but you didn’t stop, just chucking Jungkook’s note in the face of his complaints and moving on.

You had never actually been in the music studio before, but you found it easily enough.

Practically running inside, you stopped, breathing heavily, in the entrance. Only three people were in there, and of course none of them were Jungkook.

Jimin, Hoseok and Yoongi looked around at you in surprise.

“Where’s Jungkook?” you panted.

Yoongi had barely lifted his hand before you had already taken off in the direction he pointed. Pushing the door wide open, you finally laid eyes on the person you had been looking for.

When Jungkook looked around from where he stood in front of a microphone, a piece of paper clutched in his hand, all the words you were going to say to him suddenly left your mind.

“What detergent do you use?”

The question fell uselessly from your lips, only making him more confused.

“What?”

“Oh, nevermind-“

Letting the door fall shut behind you, your feet didn’t stop moving as you crossed the room until your lips crashed into his.

Arms instinctively coming up to hold you, his eyes widened at first but quickly slid shut as he realised what was happening. You were so desperate to find him, and now you couldn’t wait to feel him, lips ravenous as your hands tangled in his long hair.

He tasted so good, making you groan into his mouth as his lips fit so perfectly against yours, incidentally granting him access to slip his tongue inside. There was barely a hair’s breadth between you as he tugged you in, hands fisted in the fabric of his own sweater that swallowed you up.

Finally recovering from the shock and elation of kissing you, he cupped the back of your head, tilting his own to deepen the kiss as he held you steady. And it was a good thing he did, or he would have swept you clean off your feet.

Even as you broke away from each other, staring in shock at your own boldness, your heart continued its raging party in your chest. You could only stare into his brown eyes, totally lost and awed at what just happened.

“Nice hoodie,” Jungkook whispered, the first to break the silence.

“Y-yeah,” you nodded, “thank you.”

“I’m glad you like it.” He looked at you then, big eyes hopeful and oh god you just wanted to kiss him again and see him smile forever-

“Can I take this as your reply to my note?”

“Yes, Jungkook,” you smiled, and the grin that burst onto his face was the most glorious you had ever seen, “I like you too. I really, really like you.”

“I really, really like you too, Y/N,” he grinned, lips connecting with your forehead in a brief, sweet peck, “and I’d like to see you in my sweaters more often.”

Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work!!

I now have a follow-up drabble for this oneshot here!

Taglist: @aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ (message to be added)

Find my other work on my masterlist

[theonewiththefanfics]

Would You Be My Little Quarantine (one-shot)

Synopsis: As the mandatory quarantine hits, the Reader is stuck in a cabin in Utah with the boys from 5 Seconds of Summer. Turns out another person is stuck in a hotel nearby. Hijinx ensue as does romance. 

Pairing: Harry Styles x f!Reader

Genre: fluff pretty much just pure, teeth-rotting fluff.

Warnings: it’s my first time writing for Harry as I was never really part of the fandom, but damn does Watermelon Sugar do things to a person, so please be kind. This is defo not my best work, but I’m slowly getting back into the groove of things, so bare with me :D

Word count: 6061

        TikTok had become Y/N’s new obsession. She’d stayed away from it as long as she could, being a true Vine generation child, she felt loyalty to the deceased app. But one night, after a long recording session, she caved. And then stayed giggling on it until the early morning when the birds started to chirp… or until Calum had taken her phone and threatened to throw it in the jacuzzi if she didn’t go to bed. 

        The girl and the four guys from 5 Seconds of Summer had been renting a cabin in the middle of the Utah woods to help them escape the distractions of the city as they recorded their respective albums, and given how they were good friends, they decided to collaborate on a few songs, and it made sense to just chill together as well.

        Which had started off Y/N’s own TikTok series, having ‘borrowed’ the idea from the Irishman living with two girls.

        “Alright, gentlemen.” She slid inside her bathroom pulling the focus of her camera on the reflection in the mirror. “I live with four guys, and I have some things to say. Why do you always, and I mean ALWAYS, leave your socks around the house? The dirty ones. You know you could just throw them in the wash… there’s an idea.”

        “We do!” Calum yelled

        Y/N turned her face to the door and hollered, “Only after I’ve asked you to!”

        “Do not!” he countered.

        “Do too!” she exited the bathroom and into the hallway only to be met with the man standing there with his hands on his hips. “Then how.” Y/N pointed the camera towards the living area you could see from where the hallways overlooked the room. “Do you explain that?” And when she zoomed in, there, in a small pile laid two brown socks, all crumpled up and almost pushed underneath one of the three couches, as if someone was trying to hide them from sight.

        Calum stammered for a bit. “Those are NOT mine.”

        Y/N flipped the camera and looked at it like they do in the Office. “Help me,” she mouthed and finished the TikTok, pointing with her hand at him. “Ya disgustin’!”

        Just as maturely as she had reacted, so did Calum by crossing his arms and sticking his tongue out, but their little bickering about whose socks they were and whose job was it to put them in the dirty wash (they were Ashton’s, and it was his job), Luke poked Y/N’s side as he came out from his room. 

        “I know might seem weird, but is there any chance another person could join our quarantine group?”

        Y/N’s eyebrows rose. Sure, the house was giant, mostly because whatever production she was a part of on Broadway, after a successful season, she invited all of them there to get away from the bustle of New York and just chill. It was in the middle of the forest, encased by gorgeous mountains and at the side of a lake where they’d go jet skiing and cliff diving.

        “I thought people can’t visit one another?”

        “They can’t,” Luke confirmed. “That’s the point. The unfortunate soul just got stuck at a hotel not too far from here, and all the flights are cancelled. Two weeks of quarantine without symptoms have been concluded, but, knowing how impossible it’d be to get to London, when you know, as I said, there are no flights, I offered a place to stay.”

        “So,” Y/N dramatically rolled her head. “You already offered to stay before asking me?”

        “Well, I knew you’d say ‘yes’ because you’re a kind, generous, amazing, smart, talented, compassionate person and wouldn’t leave someone on the streets when you know you could help.”

        “Mhm, keep talking.” Y/N squinted her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

        “Incredible, best musician I’ve ever met, how you haven’t won all of Tony’s I’ve got no idea. Your acting skills are impeccable and the movie industry is missing out on a once in a lifetime kind of a talent by not castin-“

        “Alright stop.” Y/N busted out laughing. “As long as you promise I won’t wake up with an axe in my head, ‘s fine.” 

        “Promise.”

        “Good. Also, could you please get me three bottles of that wine I like?” Y/N hollered before skipping downstairs and to the kitchen where Ashton was brewing the tenth cup of coffee. “I have a deadline in two weeks and have literally no idea where to go with the story.” She referred to the second book of her series she was writing, and now with the lockdown going on, her literary agent was breathing down her neck, and it didn’t help she hadn’t written anything in like a month and didn’t remember half of the already exiting story.

        Luke lifted a brow and hissed through his teeth. “That bad?”

        “You have no idea,” she sighed and left for the living-room where she could harass the boys for their fries and procrastinate some more. 

***

        The few hours, while Luke was away, were quite uneventful. All of them sat around on the couch pit, wrote some music, lil bit of lyrics and Y/N almost cried seeing as her characters had decided to live their own life and not obey to her story.

        “Why do you have to be such an idiot,” she mumbled under her breath and furrowed her brows as she wrote herself into a new plot hole.

        Right as Y/N was about to delete the whole chapter, the door slammed open and she heard grunting. “We’re here!” Luke hollered, and the thought of wine made her giddy, making her leap over the edge of the couch, and rush to the front door only to stop dead in her tracks. 

        Y/N’s mouth hung open, not because of who the person joining their quarantine group was, but because of what the person was. “A fifth GUY?! You didn’t tell me it’d be a guy!”

        “I didn’t think it’d matter!” Luke yelled back.

        “There’s already four of you!” She pointed back to the living room hearing loads of ‘hey!’ being shouted back.

        “Would you leave him on the streets if you’d known he was a dude?”

        “No, of course not!” 

        “Why are we yelling?”

        “I don’t know!”

        “I mean, I can leave.” Harry Styles said pointing at the door, not really knowing what to do. He certainly hadn’t expected that sort of greeting. “But I do come bearing gifts.” He lifted a black bag where a clinking of glass could be heard.    

        “No,” she sighed.  “It’s fine... I just… I just miss the company of vaginas.”

        He raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow. “Vaginas?”

        “People I can rant to. Honestly, it doesn’t even matter if you have a vagina, as long as we can have a good rant. Especially about the gross things like having all of your dirty socks thrown around the house.” She threw Luke a look that screamed ‘I know you pushed all of them under your bed, and it’s stinking up the whole place.’

        Harry shook his head. “Ya not gonna find me leaving my clothes like that. Besides, ‘s disgusting.”

        “No,” Luke whined, “come on, man! You’re supposed to be on our side!”

        “It’s two against four,” Harry snickered, throwing his hand around Y/N’s shoulder, who gave Luke a smug grin, and it made her mimic the same expression.

        “It’s evening out. Maybe you should actually invite some other people to quarantine with us. Say, Harry, is maybe Niall in need of a place to stay?”

        Luke rolled his eyes, and shook his head, going into the kitchen and placing the food bags he’d been holding. “I hate you so much.”

        Y/N’s smile just widened.         

        ***

        “Yes, I’m still stealing your series Irishman.” Y/N zoomed in on her face. “Because now…” she looked up at the ceiling in a manner ‘someone please save me���, “I’m living with FIVE dudes. Yes, FIVE. We have an addition. And if someone doesn’t come and kill me, I will kill them.”

        “We’re not that bad!” Michael hollered form out of frame, to which Y/N yelled back, “Yes the fuck you are! Boys are gross. You do realize you’re allowed to have more than one towel. Like you DON’T have to wipe your face with a towel that’s soaked up your ball juice.”

        “It’s economy.”

        “It’s disgusting! Also.” Y/N turned the camera to Harry who was climbing up the stairs with a cup of coffee in hand. “Say ‘Hi’ to gremlin number five. He’s stolen all of my nail polish.”

        He gave a cute wave with an adorable smile, muttering an unintelligible ‘Hello’ as his mouth was stuffed with a piece of bread and a very muffled ‘You don’t even use them.’

        “Yes, but that’s not the point. Anyway,” Y/N pointed the camera at herself. “Tune in for an update whenever, as long as I haven’t strangled anyone, and pray to the heavens you don’t see my face in the papers cause the next time you do, it’ll be my mugshot for a quintuple homicide.”

        “Is that a threat Y/L/N?” Harry smirked, as Y/N walked past him and took away his cup of coffee.

        “No, it’s a promise.” She threw him a wink, leaving the Brit with his mouth open at the woman’s audacity, as she stopped the recording of the TikTok.

        “That was my coffee!”

        “Not anymore!”

        He shook his head, turning back around and going to the kitchen, seeing Y/N perched on one of the stools, neck stretching over to where Ashton was watching a video on his phone, the black liquid in his cup now a creamy beige. Harry smiled. Maybe quarantine wasn’t going to be so bad.

***

        Y/N’s head popped from the side of the door, bringing all of their attention to her. “You guys need to record anything right now?”

        Luke shook his head, signifying the band was alright before turning to Harry who mimicked him, the tapping of his pen stopping. “Why?”

        “Just got a call from Laurence, he said something’s wrong with the ‘Candy Store’ audio from yesterday. Need to rerecord it and send it over. Something about a faulty export or whatever.”

        “ ‘S all yours.” Ashton motioned to the recording booth. “Oh, but can I be Heather Duke?”

        “And can I be Heather McNamara then?” Luke piped in.

        Y/N chuckled. “Not to burst your bubbles, but you do know you won’t be in the final version?”

        “No, but we could be in THIS version. It’d be for our private files. And it’d help you.”

        “That sounds so wrong.” She grimaced. “How would that help me?” Y/N plopped next to Harry on the floor. “You’re the biggest distractions I’ve ever met.”

        Luke scoffed. “How dare you! We offer you our services of being backup singers, and you… you’re such a meanie. You’re such a Heather Chandler!”

        “It’s 2020! If Leslie Odom Jr. can play Aaron Burr, then I can play one of the Heathers! Don’t be sexist, Y/N!”

        “I never said a dude can’t play a Heather, don’t put words in my mouth. I just said last time we tried to record anything together we ended up playing SIMS for like seven hours, but… come on you two divas, get your asses inside then. But I swear if Laurence or Kevin call because one of you whispered something dirty in the background of MY parts, I will strangle you in your sleep.”

        “How little trust do you have in us?”

        “Very,” Y/N deadpanned, showing the two men inside, leaving Calum, Harry and Michael to man the production table. “If you mess with anything, your asses will be grass.” She pointed at the three and all of them put their hands up in surrender. “ ‘S bad enough you ruined my single.”

        “It’s called giving it flavour,” Calum said through the microphone.

        Y/N just responded by sticking her tongue out.

        Michael lifted his fingers, counting down from five to one, giving her the cue to start.

        “Are we gonna have a problem?” Y/N cocked her head to the side, already immersed in the character of Heather Chandler. “You’ve got a bone to pick? You’ve come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick?”

        Harry swallowed hard. 

        “I’d normally slap your face off, and everyone here could watch,” she slightly motioned with her head to the audience behind the screen, a mockingly sweet smile on her lips. “But I’m feeling nice, here’s some advice, listen up biatch.”

        When her hips started moving from side to side to the rhythm of the song, Harry swore he’d never found someone being mean (even though it was mock mean) so hot.

        “I like,” Y/N raised her voice before dropping it. “Looking hot, buying stuff they cannot.”

        There was no sight of the sweet and bubbly girl Harry had met. This was Queen-B of Westerberg High in flesh. He was transfixed. 

“I like drinking hard, maxing dad’s credit card.”

She didn’t need anyone’s credit card to pay for her things, given how she was one of the top paid Broadway singers of their generation, and something in Harry skipped a beat at how confident she looked.

        “I like skipping gym, scaring her, screwing him,” Y/N rolled the ‘r’ deeply in her throat, and he had to collect himself before his thoughts went to an unsavoury place.

        “I like, killer clothes, kicking nerds in the nose!” With a smile, Y/N pointed at Luke who only rolled his eyes. “If you lack the balls, you can go play dolls, let yer mammy fix you a snack,” she emphasised the ‘K’ after having mockingly sung the bit before. “Or you could come smoke, pound some rum and coke, in ma Porche with the quarterback.”

        As weird as it was to have the two boys be her fellow Heathers, Y/N hated to admit it did help her. It reminded her more of what it was like to be on stage before the pandemic had started and the production had to be shut down. And she missed them. All her fellow actors just as much as she missed the rush of getting on stage and losing herself in the role and atmosphere. 

        “You can join the team –“

        “Or you can bitch and moan,” Y/N’s ‘Heathers’ sang in a nasally voice

        “You can live the dream.”

        “Or you can die alone.” 

        Harry snuck inside the recording booth, picking up a pair of headphones by the drum set.

        “You can fly with eagles,”

“Or if you’d prefer,”

        “Keep on testing me,”

        “And end up like her!”

        And that’s when Harry joined in, reciting the lines of both Veronica and Martha, and when he saw Y/N keeping a palm over her mouth as she tried to keep a mean face while inevitably hiding a smile. The whole of the song, despite how Ashton, Luke and Harry had tried to make Y/N break character (she came close a couple of times), the woman stayed on the line, not missing a beat, and especially enjoying the moment where she looked at Luke, who was about to hit the high note and screaming ‘shut up, Heather!’

        Harry couldn’t help the smile splitting apart his face. When Luke had first picked up his call, having known he and the gang were somewhere in the Utah region, he had thought he’d be living with just the guys, and when he found out it was actually Y/N Y/L/N renting the cabin, the girl he’d admired for so long for how brave and utterly unapologetic she was of being herself, Harry had just thought he’d gain a new friend, not have romantic feelings spring up.

        And all of it had happened in the span of two days, not even that much. He’d arrived the evening before, had met the woman, and now it was three PM on day two and was already in love. 

        It was an exhilarating and terrifying feeling all at once. Some studies said it takes men eight seconds to fall in love, which Harry now could pretty much confirm, while it takes women generally fifteen days to fall in love. And he could only hope Y/N might have some feelings for him as well, otherwise, he’d have to scold his heart for falling quickly once again. 

***

        It was the middle of the night, wind slamming against the windows when Harry got awoken by people talking behind his door. At first, he was ready to fight, thinking immediately that intruders had come into the house, but when he heard a ‘fuck off Michael’ and a ‘you fuck off, you’re gonna ruin this’, he understood everything was fine. And he was just about to lay back down on the soft pillows, but as the saying went – curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, so he threw off the covers and lightly went to the door, where a bleary Harry appeared on the stairs making Y/N and Michael whip their heads towards him and freeze on the spot. 

        “What are you two do-“ but he didn’t get to finish the question as the two co-conspirators shushed him.

        “You’re either in,” Y/N whispered harshly, “or out. Choose Styles.”

        A beat. “What kind of trouble’re we getting’ into?”

        The smile which spread on her face was nothing short of wicked. “Revenge,” Y/N hissed.

        “Be quieter than a mouse,” she whispered to him, and now the trio moved downstairs.

        “Who are we getting revenge on?” Harry spoke as quietly as he could, as they rounded the corner and exited the cabin through the back door. It was colder than he thought, seeing how the wind wasn’t warm at all, and he was grateful he’d fallen asleep in his favourite rainbow cardigan. How Y/N and Michael didn’t even shiver in their barely-there pyjamas he didn’t understand. 

        “See, Luke here thought it was a good idea to not heed my warning about not messing with my recording.”

        Harry’s eyebrows scrunched up. “He didn’t.” He knew Luke hadn’t, he was there the whole time and listened back to what they’d sung with everyone together.

        “No, but he did rename a different file with the same name I had for the 'Heathers'' recording, on MY computer, mind you. And well, let’s just say, it was not what anyone wanted to hear.”

        Harry had to swallow, as his mind went to unsavoury places, and as Y/N shimmied open the lock of the window to the studio bathroom part of the house, she looked over her shoulder to see his expression. It would seem, despite him being in ‘Dunkirk’ and having been confirmed to play Eric in the live-action ‘The Little Mermaid’ he wasn’t as good of an actor as he thought.

        “Get your mind out of the gutter,” she snickered and pulled herself inside the house through the window, Michael handing her a black duffle bag Harry hadn’t first noticed. “It was a conversation I had with my friends while we were all drunk. Some tea, some very personal tea was spilt, and so.” She unzipped the bag slowly and took out a whipped cream can. “I’m going to spill something else.”

        Canned cheese was one of the most disgusting things ever created by a human in Y/N’s opinion. So, squeezing nine cans worth of the stuff inside all of Luke’s socks, jean pockets and everywhere else possible was good enough revenge for her.

        “Why are we in the studio though?” Harry asked as the trio crept towards the bathroom door and peeked through the open sliver. It was pitch black. 

        “Because Luke teds to forget his favourite things here,” Michael explained and motioned for them to follow as he checked that the hallway was clear. It was go-time. 

        Together they all snuck back inside the recording studio, and much like Michael had said – Luke’s favourite jean jacket, a woollen jumper, three pairs of boots and shoes were all scattered around the place. He hadn’t even noticed it while they’d hung out there, but now Harry understood what Y/N was talking about while whining about the boys being messy.

        She uncapped the can and squeezed, the artificial smell of cheese wafting through the air, making her almost gag. “That’s for being a bad friend,” she muttered while filling up one shoe. “That’s for making bad jokes.” She filled up another. “And that’s for saying ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’ is an overrated song.’

        It was hard for Harry to contain the giggles, as he uncapped his own can and started filling up wherever Y/N pointed to. Did he feel bad? Sure. But was it fun to feel like a teenager in a university dorm during a prank war? Abso-fucking-lutely. And it didn’t help that he was desperately falling in love with Y/N with every second they spent together. Like she could’ve asked him to hide Luke’s corpse, and he’d say he’d take the blame for the murder if it came to it.

        “Why did we have to sneak around the place like that?” he suddenly asked, brows furrowing in concentration as he squeezed the smelly contents inside the inside pocket of the jacket. “Why couldn’t we have just walked through the house?”

        “Because Luke always and I mean always comes to the studio at 3 AM,” Y/N stated. 

        Harry looked at the clock. It was 2:45 AM already. 

        “But before that, he goes into the kitchen, makes himself a double espresso, a sandwich and eats it before going into the storage where we keep all of the instruments, which is where he is in right now. Had we snuck through the normal way, he would’ve seen us and stopped this. And that just wouldn’t fly.”

       However, it was like Luke had a sixth sense as right at that moment the light flipped on, and like deer in headlights, the trio’s heads shot up and eyes widened.

        “What the fuck!” he whispered hand extended in the direction of the already six empty cans on the floor.

        Y/N snapped out of the adrenaline induced frozen state and shrugged. “I told you not to mess with the recording.” She put her finger back on the squeezable part. “And you. Didn’t. Listen.”

        The cheese squirted out with a splutter, and all of them stood still as the final bits dropped into Luke’s black boot. “And that’s payback.”

        With a sway in her hips, Y/N exited the room, leaving the three men to gawk after her. 

God was she a hurricane, Harry thought to himself. And he’d never been as happy to be caught right in the eye of it all.

***

        The next few days all of them spent lounging around the house, recording a few songs, most of them by Harry seeing as a huge wave of inspiration had hit him, making him write more than one love song. He even asked Y/N somewhat shyly if she could do some of the backing vocals, and he swore the song went from a 3 to a 100 the second he heard her voice weave his lyrics into a symphony. 

        By that point, they’d been quarantining for a week and a half together, and a heatwave was coming up. The cabin had both an inside and outside pool which they’d all had to learn how to maintain, seeing as no one could come and do it for them, and a jacuzzi tub on the terrace. As much as the boys tried to prove they knew how to keep the places clean, ultimately it was Y/N who saved all of them from chlorine poisoning and algae overgrowth. 

        So, it was right when she pulled out the pH indicator and said it was good for use when with a scream, Luke rushed forward Y/N, rugby tackling her by the waist and plunged both of them down to the water below. 

        “You asshole!” She splashed at him, laughing and choking out a bit of water as they resurfaced. “What the fuck is wrong with you!”

        “That’s payback for the cheese.”

        She went silent for a second, but then shrugged. “Can’t say I didn’t deserve it. But you did deserve the cheese.”

        “So,” Luke extended his hand for a shake. “Do we call this even?”

        Harry exited the cabin right as both of them completely soaked to the bone jumped out onto the wood floor. He stopped mid-walk if only to control where his eyes went seeing as Y/N’s white shirt clung to her body and well… didn’t leave much for the imagination anymore.

        “Do I wanna know what happened here?” He raised a brow.

        “Retribution.”

        “Though I do gotta say, you have a funny way of getting revenge.” Y/N smirked at  Luke, making him squint down at the girl. 

        “What do you mean?”

        “I mean,” she drawled out, a mischievous smile on her lips, “that when I filled your clothes with the cheese, my stuff didn’t get stinky. And yet, from your end… I’m not the only one wet.”

        A beat passed.

        “God fucking damn it.”

        “Hey!” She pointed a finger at him. “We called a truce!”

        Luke waved her off. “Yeah yeah, whatever,” but Y/N grabbed Luke’s hand right before he went inside and squeezed it. 

“We good?”

        He sighed and smiled. “We good, sweetheart.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, gave Harry a quick ‘see ya later’ as well and disappeared through the glass doors. 

        Harry didn’t know what’d happened to him. He’d always been a helpless romantic, falling in love, and maybe a bit too hard at that, but this time, even without Y/N knowing about his feelings, his heart felt safe. 

        Sure, the side of her he’d seen was a complete headcase, and she had more energy than a bull with a red flag in front of it, but the utter love exuding from the woman, even while she complained about her four, well five counting him, housemates was palpable in the air. The way she hugged and made sure everyone had whatever they needed, the way she let them know if anyone needed to have a chat, she’d be there to listen, and the small little things of how she always knew what preferences they’d have for their pancakes or breakfast in general, made his heart melt. 

        “Luke’s a lucky guy.” Harry swallowed before saying that. As much as seeing Y/N be affectionate with everyone, him included, made him feel all fuzzy, a little jealousy monster did bubble up in his stomach when he saw her snuggled next to the lead vocalist of the band. He didn’t have any right to, but no matter how much he tried to repress the green beast, it still lurked somewhere deep in his heart.

        “Hm?” Y/N lifted her head where she’d been looking at the water as she squeezed it out of her shirt and up at Harry.

        He motioned with his chin to where Luke had disappeared. “He’s a lucky guy to have someone like you.”

        “Oh, we’re not together if that’s what you’re implying.”

        “I –“ he stammered. “I didn’t mean to offend y-“

        But Y/N waved him off. “You’re not the first nor probably the last person to say that. I get it. They asked me one time to surprise their fans at a concert in Connecticut, I think, and when their photographer sent over the pictures, I kinda saw what everyone kept saying, but I’ve never looked at any of them as more than a friend. Best friends, brothers maybe, but nothing more.”

        “How’d ya get so close?” Harry enquired, his chest feeling a bit lighter.

        Y/N huffed and plopped down to the ground, patting the place beside her which Harry took. “When I first went solo, right after being on ‘Beetlejuice’ I was fucking terrified. Didn’t really know anyone in the music industry like that. Being on Broadway’s different.” She shrugged. “And the award shows are different as well. Like with ‘Tony’s’ or ‘Oliver’ awards it’s you know – musical and theatre geeks. My people. But the first time I went to VMAs I almost shat myself.” She chuckled, and Harry did the same. “Didn’t know anyone at all, was petrified to even find my seat because someone told me I’d have to sit between Lady Gaga and Rihanna, and my heart was not ready for that. Ashton saw me at the edge of the carpet, creeping around the entrance and kinda…” Y/N bit her lip looking for the right words. “I dunno. They kinda took me under their wing, in a sense – if you need a friend in the industry, we’re here, that sort of thing. And ever since then, we’ve been best friends. Luke and I just got the closest because we got stuck in an elevator once for like eight hours once, and well, boredom and thinking you’re gonna die in a four by four-foot box brings people closer.”

        Harry almost choked. “Eight hours?”

        “Yep.” Y/N popped the ‘p’ and gave him a sarcastic smile. “It was like soooo much fun,” she said sarcastically.  “I totally didn’t think the elevator was about to drop from where we were up on like the sixtieth floor, and both of us were gonna get our bones smashed to pieces, and I only had two protein bars, and you know how I get without food,” she stated. He nodded.

        “Cranky.”

        “Exactly. But.” Y/N chuckled. “We didn’t die. Which’s great, not complaining, and I gained one of my all-time best friends.”

        “Well, I’m glad you didn’t die.” Harry gave her a warm smile and nudged her foot with his. “Wouldn’t have gotten the chance to meet you otherwise.”

        She nudged his foot back. “ ‘M glad I didn’t die either. And I gotta say – you’ve made this whole quarantine bearable. Sometimes it’s like fighting with four toddlers, and that’s always a futile battle. Happy to have another wrangler with me. Also an accessory to my crimes.”

        He inched his hand towards hers, and when Y/N didn’t pull away instead liked her pinkie with his, a warm feeling rushed through him.

        “Happy to be of help.”

***

It was two nights later or full two weeks since the six of them had been together when things took a turn. 

Y/N’d always been a light sleeper, especially when her life was mainly placed in New York, but now, living in the middle of nowhere, she’d been able to catch up on some sleep. That was when the sound of her door being opened made Y/N shot up in her bed, sheets clutched at her chest in a panic. “What? What’s wrong? What did Calum set on fire?”

        “Nothing.” Harry’s eyebrows scrunched up, but he decided not to ask. There was the morning for that. “This might seem weird, but could I uh could I possibly sleep in your room?”

        She blinked a couple of times, because her brain was still processing his words and if they were even English, but once they registered, Y/N nodded, pulling back her blanket and scooting over. “C’mere.”

        “Again, I’m sorr-“

        Y/N shushed him, as Harry climbed in the bed, placing the duvet underneath his arm and twisting to see her, as she mumbled, “less talk, more sleep.”

        He hummed in agreement. His eyes were heavy, in fact, they’d become heavy the instant his head had hit Y/N’s pillow, but it was like his heart, the same poor heart that’d had to deal with the newfound emotions for the whole time he’d been there, the same poor heart that didn’t know better and always gave itself away to the person it deemed to be worthy, no matter if in the end it ended up broken, took over the control of his eyes and mouth, and while slamming against Harry’s ribcage, he whispered his confession. 

        “I really like you… As more than a friend.”

        A second passed. He felt Y/N stir as she turned towards him, brow furrowed. “Sorry?”

        “I said…” He let out a shaky exhale. “I like you. I fell for you pretty much the second I entered the house and you threatened to throw me out because I was a guy. And then I fell for you when I saw you let loose in the studio. And then once more when I witnessed what your wrath entails.”

        Y/N chuckled. “Cheese.”

        “Yeah…” He let out a little laugh. “Cheese.”

        A gentle palm went to brush away the hair stuck to Y/N’s face and he swore he could just melt as she leaned into his touch. “And then I fell for you when you said yes to singing my song… when you sang the lyrics, I dedicated to you… and every second I fall for you even more… I just… I thought you should know…”

        “Well, I can only hope that you’ll take this as a compliment then, when I say I kinda like you too, Styles,” she mumbled snuggling deeper into her pillow. “Though I didn’t think I was your type.”

        “What’s my type then?” he mumbled back, letting his arms wrap around Y/N’s waist when she shuffled closer. Not only was he now fully in heaven because he was covered by the softest duvet in the world, head resting against a literal cloud, but also because his nostrils were invaded by the gentlest of smells, and the body against his was the warmest of comforts. 

        “Well, not girls like me.”

        “You mean talented, beyond funny and absolutely breath-taking?”

        “Introverted, house hermits who don’t wash their hair unless they have to go somewhere with a perchance of self-destructive behaviour. Unintentional that is.”

        Harry’s eyebrows lifted. “Would’ve never taken you for an introvert.”

        “Mmmh,” Y/N sighed, feeling his fingers skim her skin. “That’s because I’ve known those guys for years, and they’re like my brothers. Couldn’t be uncomfortable even if I tried with them. We’ve seen too much of each other. But I’m definitely an introvert. Almost had a panic attack the first time I had to make my own doctor’s appointment.”

        “You didn’t seem shy with me.”

        “That’s because for some weird reason I… I didn’t feel awkward around you. And I mean, you did bring wine.”

        She could feel Harry’s chest rumble as he laughed. “Well, I hope it helped with inspiration.”

        “Ugh, don’t remind me,” she huffed, but opened her bleary eyes and were met by Harry’s green already staring back. She couldn’t contain the giggle, and it only grew in power as he chuckled himself, making her bury her head in his chest.

        “What?”

        “Nothing,” she shook her head. “Just never thought I’d date someone from 1D.”

        “Are we below you or something?” There was no trace of malice and hurt in his voice. He knew Y/N wasn’t like that.

        “No, ‘s just my boy band phase was ‘Good Charlotte’, ‘Panic at the D!sco,’ ‘My Chem’ and the sort.”

        “So, you weren’t fainting while listening to ‘You Don’t Know You’re Beautiful’?” Harry mumbled in Y/N’s hair, sleep slowly overtaking him.

        She shook her head. “Sorry, no. Panties definitely weren’t dropping then.”

        “Are they now?”

        “According to ‘Watermelon Sugar’ you’re the one pulling all of ‘em off.”

        “Damn. Guess it’ll have to be my new challenge.”

        Y/N’s eyebrows scrunched up as she looked at him before promptly falling asleep. “Making my panties drop?”

        “Yep. But this time because of me, not Gerard Way.”

        “Bold of you to assume it was just Gerard Way. I’m a slut for all of those wizard dads.”

        By the time she slurred out the last sentence both of them had drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

***

        “They were right!” Harry shouted jumping up in the bed, startling Y/N awake once more as if something was breaking down on their heads with how urgently he jolted. “It does take women two weeks to fall in love and men 8 seconds.”

        A pillow met his face. “Fall back asleep.” 

        He leaned over her still horizontal form, a smug smile on his face. “Are you gonna make a TikTok about it?”

        “Probably ‘bout how I murdered the boyfriend I was with for three hours if he doesn’t let me sleep.”

        He didn’t argue. With a smile on his face, Harry drifted off once more. Who knew that getting stuck in a hotel somewhere in Utah would lead him to the love of his life? 

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take): 

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A/N: So... I know I’ve been gone for quite a while, but that’s because I have a job now (I’m trying to get a different one that actually would involve my degree, because this one is absolutely killing me), so please be understanding with the spare posting. I still love writing fics, and as evident, I’m kina branching out into other fandoms :D

There’s a lot of things going on in my life, so if you wanna follow me you can do that on Instagram @dinnusa or @read_with_dee or on my blog dinnusa.wordpress.com :) I also have a TikTok @dinmasters

P.S. feedback is always appreciated :)

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[nxrthmizu]

| stay the night | Matsukawa Issei

»»——⍟——««

song | Toothbrush - DNCE

pairing | Matsukawa Issei x Reader 

warning(s) | Implied sexual intercourse

words | 1.6k 

author’s note | Hello its late but ayeeee also not beta/proof-read so it probably sucks but umm yes I’ll come back to edit this later its late and I’m tired 

»»——⍟——««

You were like quicksand. 

The more he struggled, the faster he sunk. But who said he didn’t want to succumb to you? 

“Going somewhere?” His drowsy drawl filled the air between the two of you, your movements freezing as if someone had pressed the pause button on you. You were in the middle of collecting your discarded clothes, tugging on your crumpled T-shirt that had seen better days. 

Your words caught in your throat, like water in a river when it crashed face-into-face with a concrete dam. “I...” 

The night was dark outside, which wasn’t a surprise seeing as it read 2am on his bedside clock. Even in the darkness, you could make out the sharp lines of his toned body, a result of his years of volleyball and continuos exercise. And even in the darkness, you could see the adorable sleepy smile he was wearing. (God, why did he have to be so good-looking???) 

“You know, baby you don’t have to rush.” He said smoothly, as if he didn’t just catch you hurrying away from a one-night stand. Well, it wasn’t exactly a one-night stand, the two of you had gotten... Intimate before. “You could leave a toothbrush at my place.” 

How could he resist from admiring you? The full moon outside highlighted the etherealness of your skin, painting you as a goddess whose beauty was unrivalled in all four corners of the world. The white sheet you clung around yourself only accented his image of you as a divine being, one that he had been blessed to meet. 

“I... Don’t think that’d be a good idea.” Your nervous laugh made him frown. Why were you so nervous anyway? Weren’t you so pliant and submissive to his touch only a couple hours ago? 

“There’s someone else, isn’t there?” He interrupted, his sharp eyes catching on your numerous giveaways. Your hands were shaking, you avoided eye contact, and you stuttered. Yes, maybe he hadn’t really gotten to know you outside his bedroom, but he knew how to recognise the signs of someone concealing the whole truth from him. 

A sigh slid out from your lips. “Okay, look. My parents... Engaged me to someone, alright?” A breath of air escaped your mouth in a huff. “I don’t want to get married to him, but... My parents don’t want to die without seeing me in a wedding dress. Which is stupid, but they’re not getting any younger.” 

“What, are you sharing a bed with him, too?” He snorted, trying his best to hold back the splash of jealousy that sparked across his tone. 

You surveyed him carefully, your eyes trailing over his toned muscles. “... No, but it just... Feels wrong if I spend the night with someone else.” Reluctantly, you admitted why you’d never stay, confessing the guilt that plunged into your stomach like a heavy rock. 

“Hold on, let’s rewind this a little...” Shaking his head, he held his hand up to stop you from talking. “This... Guy that you’re marrying... Do you like him at all?” 

The lip bite was enough of an answer for him. 

“You don’t.” He concluded simply, watching you struggle for a response. 

“Well-! He’s... Nice, but a little of a pushover, and... Very reliant on his mother...” You noted with a wince. “Actually, screw that, I don’t see how its’ going to work out. His mom literally treats him like a five-year-old and he acts like he’s five-years-old.” 

A scoff rang in Issei’s bedroom, rumbling from the depths of his throat to the vibrations in your ear drum. “You deserve someone better than that.” 

“Are you volunteering?” 

“If I am, will you stay the night?” 

»»——⍟——««

Issei had never understood when Hanamaki explained that waking up next to someone you loved was the best feeling in the world. At least, he never understood until the morning sun trickled in through the slits of the curtains and he got a glimpse of your (hair colour) hair, swung over the pearl-coloured pillows. 

Oh, and you were a blanket hogger. 

Not that he minded. The nights were always too hot for him and he normally ended up kicking them off anyway. You, on the other hand, were wrapped up like a dumpling. 

He froze when you stirred, moving in your sleep until you cuddled up next to him, tucking your chin into his chest with a satisfied hum. He didn’t dare move. Everything in him stopped momentarily. What if his heart beat too loud and he woke you up? (If he could’ve stopped his heartbeat he would). 

It was in this way he gradually fell back asleep, your head tucked in his chest and his breathing eventually lining up with your steady ones. His phone rang once when his coworker texted to ask if he was okay, he responded with a quick ‘I’m sick’ and typed the shortest leave-requesting-email he had ever written in his entire life, trying to get the letters right without waking you up. 

By the time he woke up, it was past 9am, and the sun was mercilessly beating down on him at that point. A yawn coursed through his body before he realised something wrong.

You were missing. 

To your credit, you had stayed the night. Surely he couldn’t have expected you to stay in the morning, too? 

“You’re awake.” 

If he got a heart attack at that moment, Issei could die a happy man. As far as he could tell, you were dressed in only one of his t-shirts, the garment overflowing from your smaller shoulder width to your mid-thighs. He was also pretty sure his jaw dropped and he gaped at you for a decent amount of time, which would be embarrassing but really, could you blame him? 

“I could get used to seeing you like this every morning.” He commented once he had recovered from his state of partial shock. 

Your hair cascaded over your neck, and it was in that moment that Issei found out you were one of those people that could roll out of bed with your hair looking messy but in a perfect way. He would never change the position of a single strand, even if he was held at gunpoint. Why would anyone change perfection, anyway? 

“I took the liberty of using your kitchen.” You replied with a smile. “Wash up and come out to eat. I took the day off.” 

When Issei said he had never washed up that quickly in his entire life before, he truly meant it. He didn’t even run that fast when he missed his alarm and remembered there was a practice match that morning. 

“About what I said last night.” He begin speaking while washing up the dishes, the soap bubbles eavesdropping on your conversation rather blatantly. You were leaning against the wall, your eyes judgemental as you eyed the (lack of) content in his fridge. “About volunteering.” 

“Oh, it’s fine. I’ll probably just divorce him after a year or something.” 

“No, it’s not fine. If you marry him I swear I will attend the wedding and I will raise my hand when the priest says ‘Speak now or forever hold your peace’.” He threatened, waving around the plate you put the fried eggs on. “I’ll marry you.” 

“I’m sorry?” 

Issei shot you a weird look. “Why are you sorry?” 

“I’m sor- Did you say you’ll marry me?” Bewilderment painted your tone and your flummoxed expression, eyes as wide as the saucers Issei just finished washing. 

“Uh... Yeah? You don’t want to marry him, I don’t want you to marry him, so you can marry me instead.” He explained, as if it was as simple as 1 + 1. “Your parents get to see you in a wedding dress.” 

You blinked a couple times just to make sure you weren’t delusional. “How on Earth did you manage to come to that conclusion?” 

“I don’t want you to marry anyone but me!” He defended, putting down the plate before he broke something and got the two of you injured by the sharp edges that would no doubt result from a broken plate. “Consider this with me for a moment. I would never pressure you into doing anything, you’re free to go anywhere you want as long as you’re safe and I know where you are, and uh...” He fumbled around for the last reason. “And you can use the coupons for free massages that I get from my volleyball magazine subscription.” 

“Is that how you try and convince someone to marry you?” 

“Wait, I have more reasons!” 

“Such as?” 

“I... Can make really nice coffee?” He suggested hopefully. “Oh, uh, I like kids. And... I’ll definitely put a lot of effort into planning dates. Plus I’m not a pushover, and I’m not mama’s boy.” He paused for a moment before adding: “That’s not to say I’m not nice to my mom. I transfer checks to her every month, I call her every Monday night, and I visit her on every second week of the month.” 

You stared at him quietly. “... Then what do you suggest we do? I can’t just call my parents and go: ‘Hey, I was sleeping with this guy while you engaged me with this boy I didn’t even want to marry, can I marry the person I was sleeping with instead?’” 

“Or, I could call your parents.” 

“That sounds like a terrible idea.” 

“Do you have any better ideas?” 

“Seeing as I just agreed to marry you, I don’t think any ideas I have at the moment would be rational.” 

“I’m the one who just asked you to marry me, aren’t my ideas even more irrational?” 

»»——⍟——««

when Issei asks you to stay the night and you end up agreeing to marry him instead,,, on a separate note please don’t agree to marry a guy impulsively okay, look at what happened to Anna from Frozen 

taglist. @mrs-kuroojinguji @procrastination-lady @drippinginhoneyandgold @shoyosun @aka-a-shii @shibayamasbae @churochuu @seijohlogy @dearsukuna @whootwhoot

send an ask to be either @owlywrites or @cadenceh2o to be added to Cadowly’s Songfic December taglist!

Kageyama’s fic is supposed to come out tomorrow :’) I haven’t even started writing it 

[writing-red]

The Red Bottle | 2

Draco Malfoy x Reader 

Summary: It’s their sixth year, Draco and the reader are placed in an arranged marriage by their pureblood families, expected to follow through they navigate their feelings for each other amongst the many other social pressures at Hogwarts.

Warnings: PARENTAL ABUSE! (verbal & physical) murder, substance abuse/underage drinking, and cussing. I am serious. These themes are heavy-handed, don’t read something that’s going to hurt you, okay?

Word Count: 4.1k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Ever since the letters arrived, your life felt different, and going on as if everything hadn’t changed in a stroke of your mothers’ quill was difficult.

Of course, you and Draco had nearly every class together, and he was acting so differently when you were around. He wasn’t your best friend, but he also wasn’t insulting you or purposely making you trip in the halls. Of course, the two of you didn’t know how to act around one another, resulting in plenty of awkward interactions. It was only September, Winter Holiday wasn’t for months, and summer was much further, but the idea of it was looming.

“Alright, class, please find your new seats,” Slughorn announced as the sixth years piled into his class.

Professor Slughorn had a knack for playing matchmaker for his student before he retired, and he certainly didn’t plan on giving up his habit now that he was back. So, of course, when he noticed Draco’s feelings for Y/n, he got to it.

“Bloody hell,” you muttered underneath your breath when you realized who your partner would be for the foreseeable future. “Morning, Malfoy,” you said when you sat down. Neither of you wanted anyone knowing, so you had agreed to keep up appearances for the time being.

“Good morning, Y/l/n,” he said, not bothering to look at you.

It still stung a bit, you admit. Around your third year, you’d had a bit of a crush on the platinum-haired boy, and you hoped that maybe he would start treating you like a human being. But, it was clear you were overestimating the Slytherin Prince’s capacity for kindness. Despite that, something sparked in the pit of your stomach every time you spoke, but you just chalked it up to nerves and fear.

On the other hand, Draco had fancied you since your second year, a feeling that had only grown since then. But, he couldn’t let you know that, not now, not with everything going on. He could put you in harm’s way. If something happened to you, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself. Draco would just have to push those feelings down till he carried out the Dark Lords plan, and until this was all over. Love was a weakness, and he wouldn’t allow feelings for you to interfere with his duty to the Dark Lord.

But, Professor Slughorn interrupted your thoughts.

“Today, we shall be brewing amortenia, the love potion we reviewed last class. As we know, many potions require skill as well as patience, and amortenia is no exception. It will take roughly nine class periods, so settle in and try to be kind to your partners. The recipe is on the board and on page 27 of your books. Begin.”

Amortenia, of course, this class really couldn’t get any worse. It was as if the universe wanted to remind you that you were destined to a loveless marriage your selfish parents forced you into. Eventually, the hour-long period ended, you and Malfoy getting along decently enough to start your potion off on the right foot. 

The second Slughorn dismissed the class, you found your friends, and all of you hurried out to the Quidditch Pitch for try-outs where you and Hermione happily resigned yourselves to watching since neither of you are much of quidditch players. You watched Hermione nervously observing Ron and McLaggen, and you eyed her as she quietly sent a confundus charm McLaggen’s way. Being the good friend, you are you didn’t plan on letting her live that down anytime soon. As hard as everything was at the moment, being around the people you love never failed to help you feel a bit more normal.

You spent all your time with them, studying, eating, walking to classes. It wasn’t abnormal, but suddenly you were thoroughly intentional about who you were around and what you were doing. Even if it was something as simple as walking to the bathroom between classes, you were always sure to have a friend by your side.

-

Despite only having been at school for a week, tension was high around the castle. Everybody needed the chance to let loose a bit.

It’s a well-known fact at Hogwarts that Gryffindor throws the best parties. Everyone years five and up are invited regardless of house. If there’s one thing that can bond bold Gyrffindors and prideful Slytherin, its taking shots of firewhiskey side by side. No one ever snitches because if they were there, it means they were partaking. It was one of the few parties on-campus members of every house attend.

With the first week of classes over and the weekend here, it was the perfect time for a party. Over many years students crafted spots around campus faculty didn’t know about hidden student lounges behind paintings with a password and rooms stocked for parties with couches and bottles of alcohol that would just appear. They would move every year so that if students returned as professors, they would not be found.

“You’re coming to the party tomorrow, no excuse will get you out of it, and I will not take no for an answer,” you said to Hermione on your way the last class of your day.

“But what if we get caught?” She said.

“They’ll give us detention, they won’t kick out all of the fifth, sixth, and seventh years. Anyways they won’t catch us; that’s the point of the rotating location.”

“I have a paper to do.”

“You are the smartest person I know. You’ll finish it in the morning. You know what? I’ll do it with you, and if I don’t both finish, you don’t have to go,” you had a lengthy history of procrastinating on essays. They always took you far longer than they needed to.

“Deal,” Hermione said, underestimating how badly you wanted her at that party. “So how’s that potions project with Malfoy going?”

“Shit, don’t remind me,” you groaned. “Let’s just not talk about Malfoy this weekend.”

-

“Mate, you’ve got to get laid tomorrow night, ever since we’ve gotten back to school, it’s like you’re a different man,” Blaise said.

“I’m not tense. I’m just no longer interested in school-boy antics,” Draco bit back. None of the boys around him could understand half of what he was going through.

“Boys, take a shot every time Malfoy makes a bullshit excuse for his shitty attitude,” Nott said and chuckled, earning a glare from Draco.

“It’s Hogwarts, not a tavern. I don’t have to be in a damn good mood all of the time,” Malfoy responded bitterly.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to be a git all of the time. We just want you to destress a little mate, it’s not a bad thing,” Blaise said, leaning back in the plush armchair.

“Just go to the bloody party Draco, it’s not going to kill you,” Theo added.

“Fine,” Draco said under his breath. “Now, let’s get back to studying?”

-

“The effects of muggle philosophy have had an impact on the development of spells that is unmatched by other influences. The opportunity for these philosophers to have collaborated with witches and wizards would have simply increased the advantages which we already benefit from today.”

“In all of our years of school, you have never written an essay that quickly,” Hermione, astonished, said as you read her your concluding sentences.

“I had some motivation, now let’s go get ready! C’mon, it’s your very first Hogwarts party!”

“You are the absolute worst Y/n,” she groaned, as she started putting her essay and writing tools back in her bag.

“And you love me, so you’re going to have to work that one out,” you responded with a terribly overexaggerated wink. “Now come on! Maybe we’ll get Ron to stop being so daft and possibly ask you out,” You dragged your blushing friend out of the common room and up to your dormitory to get ready for the highly anticipated event.

-

There was something about how free you felt at these parties that had you coming back for more every time. Maybe it was the alcohol, perhaps the too-loud music and having to yell to speak, the mingling of sweat, old furniture, and cigarettes, or all of the above. Whatever it was, you loved it. 

You wore your favorite ensemble with a signature deep red clinging to your lips. Although, your pride and joy of the night was Hermione Granger in a tight red dress, somewhat tamed and defined curls, and just a tad bit of makeup. Your best friend is beautiful, you just loved the opportunity to dress her up.

You and Hermione stepped into the cozy room wrapped in ornate red wallpaper about forty minutes after the party’s official start, which had her nervous until you convinced her that was the way things were done, and she had to let you take the lead here. This was your area of expertise, not hers. You walked in and instantly found two fresh drinks, handing her one and offering a toast.

“To your very first Hogwarts party,” you said with a wide smile.

“You make me nervous, Y/n,” she responded, peering into the cup with fear in her eyes.

“That goes away with a few drinks, I promise,” With that, both of you threw back the concoctions. You took it without a second thought. Meanwhile, Hermione started coughing, not yet used to the punishments of hard alcohol.

While you and Hermione made your way through the party, with fresh drinks in hand, to find Harry and Ron, Draco and his crew entered. Draco was wearing an oversized black button-down with the sleeves rolled up his alabaster arms tucked into slick black pants that fit him perfectly. He sauntered in with Blaise, Theodore, Crabbe, and Goyle behind him. As always, he commanded the attention in the room; everyone knew the Slytherin Prince had arrived.

“Hey, your husband just walked in,” Ron whispered to you, a little too loudly for your liking.

“Ron. Shut your bloody mouth right now,” you said through your teeth. He was drunk enough to not care, you weren’t. “I’ll tear you to pieces.”

“Ooh, maybe you should have been a Slytherin, you’re soo scary,” he said and chuckled at his horrible joke.

“Ron, you’re acting like a git, shut up,” Hermione said, jumping to your defense.

“Harry, who’re you staring at?” You asked, in an attempt to change the subject off of you and Malfoy.

“I’m watching the door to see if Ginny shows,” he said quietly to you. His infatuation with Ginny was still a sore subject with Ron.

“I’ll let you know if I see her,” you responded. 

“Thanks,” Harry said and smiled, noticing the lull in the conversation he pipped up. “Why don’t I go get us some more drinks? Y/n and Hermione need to get on my and Ron’s level.” 

“Sounds good, Potter,” you quipped as he walked towards the bar.

Across the room, Draco Malfoy watched you with a close eye. The instinct to protect you hadn’t yet faded, and it was currently manifesting through stalking you at parties. Blaise noticed his friend’s gaze on you, but he let his friend be. Maybe this would be his opportunity to find out what’s been occupying Malfoy’s brain.

It wasn’t long until Harry returned to your spot with four bottles and no cups in sight.

“That’s it, Harry, it's official, you’re insane,” Hermione said, quickly putting two and two together.

“Oh, just take the bottle, Hermione! You don’t have to drink the whole thing,” he said and handed her a bright red bottle of fire whiskey.

He handed you the same then passed an open beer to Ron, considering he was already pretty drunk. You graciously accepted the bottle and took a swig, the whiskey burning, but it didn't bother you as you were rather used to it at this point.

“Are you going to drink all of that?” Dracos' highly judgemental voice came from behind your spot on the couch.

“Excuse me?” You asked and turned around to see him looming over you. “Did you come here just to judge me? This is a party, you know, drinking is kind of the point. And, why are my drinking habits any of your business?” You questioned, a slur slowly starting to take over your voice.

“You know exactly why it is my business,” he said as if each word was causing him terrible pain.

You handed off the bottle to Harry, stood, and spun around to face Draco. Instead of making you clumsy,  whiskey grants you grace. You were not a sloppy drunk. You placed a hand on Draco’s chest and leaned in close enough for the interaction to be intimate. You were drunk enough now, and the man in front of you was far too sober.

“I am not your wife; in fact, I am not yet your fiancée. We are to be married, we aren’t engaged. And that does not give you the right to control me, Malfoy,” you said, sneering as you uttered his surname. “Now let me live my life before I am subject to you for the rest of it,” you were seething, not once breaking eye contact with him as you took out the anger you had towards your parents on him.

He responded by grabbing your chin rather roughly, “Watch the way you speak to me.”

You slapped his hand away, “Don’t bloody touch me like that.” 

“I’ll touch you in whatever way I want,” he said, just as angry as you. The two of you held your staring contest before he stormed away from you towards wherever alcohol was.

To put it lightly, you were livid. How dare he treat you like some object he could throw around. Tears welled up in your eyes, and all you could think was that you wanted to hurt him back the way he had hurt you.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Harry asked. 

“Give me back the whiskey, please,” you responded.

Harry complied, passing the flaming red bottle your way. If there was one thing, childhood trauma taught you, it was how to drink.

You drowned yourself in the bottle, finishing it off to your friend's shock. “I am perfectly fine,” you said, putting the bottle down and wiping the water away from your eyes. “Ron, Hermione, if you don’t mind, Harry and I are going to go on a walk.”

The suggestion in your voice wasn’t evident to anyone but Harry, who knew exactly what you were getting at. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to snog at parties when each of you was drunk enough. It never got in the way of your friendship, and it wasn’t romantic in the least. It was just something the two of you do on nights where either one wants the chance to forget.

It wasn’t long until you found a spare corner, and the rest of the fire whiskey did its job. Ginny out of his mind, Harry made quick work of pushing you up against the wall and placing his lips on yours. One didn’t need passion to be a good kisser. You reached up your hand and gripped his hair in an attempt to pull him closer to you. The closer he was, the further away Draco would be, right? And Harry obliged, kissing you harder and wrapping his arms around your waist. But, this time it wasn’t working, you couldn’t get the thought of Draco’s hands on you out of your head. Even his scent was lingering, he was infuriating. You continued to try and push the notion of Draco's lips on yours by letting Harry move from your lips to your neck.

Not far away, Draco watched the Chosen One snog his betrothed, jealousy tightening its grip on his heart. It hurt more than he could care to admit. You had some power over him he didn’t know existed before this moment, and he knew that it was dangerous, that caring about you was dangerous. But at this moment, all he wanted was for you to get away from Harry Potter.

“Mate, what is going on?” Blaise asked, breaking Draco from his trance, and handing him a drink.

Draco took the drink and let out a breath. “My parents have decided that Y/l/n and I will be married this summer. We both found out Monday.”

“Didn’t I just see her in a corner snogging Potter?” He asked, his voice rigid.

Draco took a sip from the mystery cup and nodded. 

“That’s right disrespectful, and it’s clearly bothering you, go bloody do something about it,” Blaise reasoned.

“I don’t know. I think I may have brought it on,” Blaise could feel Dracos tension, and he placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“It was her decision to pull him into a corner, now get her out of it,” he advised, and Draco nodded, you shouldn’t be going around kissing other guys, particularly not Harry Potter.

“Thanks, Blaise,” he said and set his drink down on a nearby surface before heading over to your little corner.

Harry’s lips were back on yours, there was likely a mark on your neck, but that wasn’t anywhere near your thoughts. No, even with Harry’s tongue in your mouth, your mind was still on Draco fucking Malfoy.

“I hope I’m not bothering the two of you, but I’m going to need a word with Y/n,” Draco said, causing you to pull off of Harry and turn towards Draco. Despite his evident anger, he had a sense of decorum about him.

“Draco, darling, I’m busy, can’t you tell?” You teased in response.

“I’m sure you and Potter can spare a moment for me,” he said tightly.

But you ignored his anger and turned to Harry, who was disheveled, confused, and disappointed by the loss of contact. “Love, would you mind if I stepped away with Mr. Malfoy here for a moment?” You asked sarcastically, not expecting an answer.

“I mean-”

“Just come with me,” Draco said, interrupting Harry, not caring one bit what he had to say. Again tightly grabbing your wrist, as he pulled you out of the party and out into the hall.

“We just have to stop meeting like this handsome,” you said, placing a hand on his chest, softer than you had earlier.

“You’re drunk,” he said, distaste for your inebriated behavior clear as he pushed you off of him.

“Awe, you’re handsome when you’re mean,” you said, a playful pout on your lips.

“Shut it, Y/n, listen to me. I need you to take this seriously, are you listening?” He asked hotly.

“How could I ignore words coming out of pretty lips like yours, love?” You asked, an enticing drawl to your voice, pushing him off the edge.

He wanted so badly to push you up against the wall and reclaim your lips. He knew the words out of your mouth were just drunken prattle, and you didn’t mean a lick of it, but he couldn’t help, but he couldn’t keep the butterflies from flooding his stomach every time you flirted with him or called him love. But, it wasn’t real, it couldn’t have been, why else would you have just been up against a wall with Harry? Merlin, Draco hated how badly he loved you.

“Y/n, listen!” He had started shouting, causing you to draw back into yourself and sink into the wall. “You said it yourself, whether we like it or not, we’re getting married this summer. This winter, you’ll be at my house with my family planning our wedding. If you decide you don’t want to comply, they’ll kill you. So you’re going to listen to me and do as I say. Your bloody life depends on it.”

You just nodded, suddenly at a loss for words. In the state you were in, you couldn’t help but see your own father in Draco at that moment. Survival instincts told you to comply.

“We are going to start dating, we’ll be nice to each other in class, eat together, go on dates, study, and keep up appearances as our parents requested. That being said, you’re not to go around snogging other boys, especially not Harry Potter, and I won’t be snogging girls in corners at parties.” You could sense the bitterness in his voice. “The second you broke the seal on that letter, you confirmed your fate. No matter how much you ignore it, there’s no escaping it, so stop trying, and bloody accept it.”

“Draco I-”

“Why do you assume that marrying me is a death sentence?” He wasn’t done. He was deeply hurt by your words and actions over the course of the last week. You made his heart twist, but to you right now, he was just angry. “I’m not as awful as you and your friends constantly make me out to be.”

“All you’ve ever done is hurt me, Draco,” you said, any air of drunken playfulness gone now, tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes. The alcohol was making it impossible to gather your thoughts. “Since we got here, calling me bloodtraitor, every time you got a chance to, you would remind me of how my parents thought of me and what they do to me. All that shit you pulled for all those years, making me feel inferior. You always confirmed that I deserved the abuse, the terrors I faced at home. And now all of a sudden, we’re supposed to get married, and you care in your weird twisted way?” You could not hide the hurt as it streamed down your face and the confusion that laced your voice. “You can’t do that to me!”  

Draco broke inside, watching you hurt because of him. But he didn’t know how to tell you that he cared and that he wanted so badly to love you, but he didn’t understand how. “That doesn’t change our family’s choice. Learn how to live with it because, as of tomorrow morning, you are my girlfriend, I put that hickey there, not Potter, and I don’t care how nasty your hangover is, you’ll wake up, get dressed and look presentable, and you’ll go on a date with me to Hogsmede tomorrow. Do you understand?” There was no room in his voice for disagreement. He sounded livid.

The tear that slipped down your cheek as you nodded broke his heart. It hadn’t even been a week, and all he’d done was hurt you. You were right. He was a monster.

“I understand,” you said, and he knew you wouldn’t forget this tomorrow morning, so with that, he stormed off.

The second he turned the corner, you slid down to the floor, you were sobbing, and you couldn’t breathe. He was right. It wouldn’t be the wedding that would change your life, it had been the letter. You were his, and that wasn’t going to change. No matter what, you were stuck. The panic attack just got worse as you sat there, unable to move. But, apparently, you were there long enough for someone to realize you were gone because, at some point, Ron came out to find you in your predicament. He didn’t say anything, he just picked you up and carried you to the Gryffindor common room. He set you down on a couch near the fireplace and sat on the floor next to you as your sobbing shifted to silent tears, and bit by bit, your breathing started to return to normal.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asked sweetly, no matter how much Ron joked and teased, he cared.

But you just shook your head no, and when he walked away, you assumed he was going to bed, but he returned with a large shirt, shorts, and a glass of water.

“Y/n, I don’t think you can make it up to your room, please put these on and drink this.”

You nodded and did as he told the common room was empty, so all it took was him turning around to give you the privacy to change.

“Do you want me to stay here with you tonight?” he asked gently. It was obvious you didn’t want to talk, and it was clear that Malfoy had caused this, but he didn’t want to leave you alone.

You just nodded, so he grabbed a couple of pillows from around the room and two blankets. After placing one on you, he lay down on the ground next to you and fell asleep.

Part 3 - The Milky Tea

Tag list - @whatawildone @herequeerandstressed @lordfxxker @pillowjj @pointlesscoconut @lovelylangdonx @fire-in-her-veinz @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog

[d-l-dare]

“Distractible”

Procrastinating is such an oddity. It's often viewed as a negative thing, drawing you away from the important things that need to be done. On the other hand, procrastinating draws you away from things you'd rather not face for an extended amount of time. One of those things may be the fact of there being nothing left for you to do, or perhaps distracting you from dramatic events presenting themselves in your life. Or perhaps they are drawing you away from something darker.

Sitting around my apartment, I noticed some things I needed to get done. After all, I had been working far too long to get anything done those days. I hated living like a slob, but when I only ever have one day a week to get things done, it is out of my control.

Don't get my wrong, my apartment wasn't exactly sloppy. Sure, there may be some trash laying around my chairs and bed. There may be some bowls laying on counter tops and in my sink, but it wasn't like I was living in an episode of Hoarders. I wasn't proud of it either. But today was the day I'd finally gotten off of work, and I wanted for nothing more than to spend it cleaning and getting things caught up around here. It didn't bother me much, as there wasn't anything to do in this town anyways. I had no one extra to spend my time with.

As I found myself waking up, I made myself some cereal for breakfast and went back to my computer desk in my bedroom. It's probably a bad habit, but often times I will find myself eating while watching television or something of the sort. Lately, the habit has shifted to watching videos online. Today was no exception.

I found myself booting up my computer and returning to the main video website. One of the first videos that popped up was one of someone exploring the hidden meaning behind a seemingly dark humored video series. I'd never really heard of the series, so I clicked on the video and watched a few minutes in.

I wanted to enjoy the video, but with the banging going on in the apartment upstairs, it was hard to focus. I really hated this apartment complex. I pay far too much for rent for this place. I plugged in my headphones and turned the volume up louder to drown out the banging.

I restarted the video and it began talking about the series entitled, "Oh, Brother". I know, how original of a title. The man in the video talked about how the series was about two friends that competed in challenges a little out of the ordinary, and found some background lore surrounding what may really be going on. There was something about how he described the videos, as well as the few screenshots that appeared in the video, that made me curious in wanting to check out the series.

I knew I didn't have the time to watch all of them, but it wouldn't hurt to see one or two. Maybe I could pull some up on my phone later and listen while I'm doing dishes, I thought. It sounded good enough on paper, so I decided to follow through. I left the video and searched for the 'Oh, Brother' series. I ended up stumbling upon a playlist of about 5 videos. I clicked the first video.

The video started out with these two guys riding their bikes. One of them said they didn't really know how to ride their bike, but was trying anyways. They then told the story of how when they were a kid, they rode their bike down a hill and crashed their bike into the side of a brick building. The other guy told a similar story, but the thing they hit when they rode their bike downhill was far different. It was into the side of a car. The car's horn started blaring and a ton of people came out and started yelling at him. They both laughed and the video ended.

The next video had them bringing their camera to a burning building. I was in shock. Was this their apartment complex that was burning? My question would soon be answered when they began speaking of their twisted new game. They said they'd take turns making their way into the burning building. The person to rescue the most people would win. You could see one of them was hesitant, but they each took turns. The one outside would hold the camera and talk about how cool and dangerous their situation was. As the video concluded, neither of them rescued anyone. Thankfully, they put a disclaimer at the end where they said nobody was injured in this video.

I almost didn't have the heart to go to the next video. One of the guys was substituting a class of kindergarteners. The other had the camera and was sitting outside, saying he was going to start another game with his friend. He crawled in through the window and his friend, the Sub, was disgruntled about this situation. There was a jump cut to the Sub looking at the camera and his face shifting from worried to a forced smile. They each took turns teaching the class. I was unsure what the goal of their little game was, but it was clear things were getting darker.

By the time I'd reached the end of the third video, I figured I had waisted enough time and grabbed my phone with a pair of headphones. I plugged them in, put them on, and played the theory video about the series, once again. I was done with the series and wanted to learn the big deal before carrying on with my day.

With my phone in hand, I made my way to the kitchen. My heart stopped when I saw my cabinets had been ripped open and there were a bunch of opened bags of food strewn all over the cabinets and the floor. It looked chaotic. Someone had broken in and done this.

I ripped off my headset and dialed the police. As I waited for them to answer, I looked to the windows. They were all locked and unbroken. I turned to my front and back doors. Both were locked and bolted. There was no sign that anyone had even come in. Then another thought sent a chill down my spine and my blood run cold. This could also mean they never left.

VvV - Story Behind the Horror - VvV

This story came from watching a YouTube channel called TheLittleFears. If you haven’t seen their videos, I highly encourage it. (https://www.youtube.com/user/theLittleFears/videos)

I originally wanted this story to have a dark twist similar to one of their videos. Of course, I got distracted by watching YouTube all day. I ended up inspiring this story on what I actually did today, only my version is far less interesting.

I watch Markiplier often and he recently put out a series where he played Power Wash Simulator. I saw one video when it first came out and got bored. This morning, Game Theory put out a video on the game. My first instinct was to watch the series Mark put out before watching the theory.

Three hours of the videos later, I realized the sad truth. I was watching these videos of a guy power washing for hours and hours so that the theory video didn’t spoil anything. In a power washing game. Was this truly my darkest hour? Had I really wasted a day off to watch someone power wash a car for 5 plus hours? Yes, yes, I was at that point.

You have no idea how hard it was not to fall asleep.

I then watched the theory video, just as the sun was about to go down. It was... disappointing. A theory about a game where you power wash things turned out to suck... WHAT HAS MY LIFE COME TO

[seungminity]

Cold Lips | Kim Seungmin

↠ Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader (Gender Neutral)

↠ Word Count: 1.8k

↠ Genre: Fluff, Suggestive, Established Relationship Au, hints of College Seungmin

↠ Warnings: Suggestive. Cursing. Mentions of shoving an ice cube down someone's throat, but like, lovingly? There’s a boner in there somewhere.

↠ A/N: i honestly don’t even know what the fonk this is. this is literally just an excuse to write making out with seungmin bc uhmmmmmm, making out with seungmin??? yeah u get it.

The clock reads 2:34 a.m. the third time you glance at it, which gets under your nerves because time seems to move too quickly considering you’re not yet even halfway done with the 6th out of 10 paragraphs you need to write for this philosophy paper. It’s still due two days from now, but you wanted to finish it by tonight (morning) because when in college, you’ve learned that putting aside an assignment will only lead to piles and piles of paperwork, which will lead to nights and nights of breakdowns and acne. Fun.

Your spine cracks when you lean back to stretch, relieving a bit of the tension, but the stingy pain doesn’t fade away when you retreat back to your original position. Your neck and back hurt, and your bum feels numb from how long you’ve been sitting down.

The words glaring back at you seem to blur together, and a wave of sleepiness washes over you. You mentally scold yourself for putting this off, but at the time, you were too busy binging another k-drama series that your boyfriend, Seungmin, pulled you into. Letting out a big yawn, you reach across the piles of notes for your mug.

It seems to be mysteriously empty, which isn’t all that mysterious considering you’ve been chugging its contents like water for the past 3 hours, but you digress.

“Min-ah, I’m out of coffee!” The e’s drag out, and despite all your huffing and puffing, your boyfriend doesn’t look up from his own laptop. He too procrastinated writing this essay and has decided to spend the night at your apartment so the two of you could work on it together.

“Minnie,” You coo, resting your head on his leg from your spot on the floor. Seungmin instinctively runs his fingers through your hair lovingly before he resumes his typing, not once looking away from his screen.

You call out to him again in hopes that he’ll get the message and walk to the kitchen to make you some more of your precious—what he calls—hot bean water, but he ignores you and continues typing. How dare he?

“I need coffee.” You huff, but he still doesn’t move from his position. You’re feeling cranky and sleepy, and this stupid paper is not magically writing itself, which is just offensive, really. Flopping down on the table, you release a drawn-out whine of coffeeeeeeeeee.

“Baby, just get up and make some,” He seems to contemplate before reaching over for his own mug and placing it in front of you. “Make me some too.”

Technically, it’s his turn to refill your mugs since you both have been alternating back and forth to the kitchen for your coffee fills, so what gives? You voice this to him as a complaint, and his answer does nothing to relieve the dull ache in your eyes. God, do you need coffee.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Its silent while you wait for him to elaborate. Because, because what? You slap his outstretched thigh in annoyance and he yelps out, finally looking up from his essay to frown at you.

“What was that for?” He complains.

“It’s your turn, Minnie!”

“I’ll go twice in the next rounds.” He proposes, before leaning over and pressing a kiss to your head. He resumes his typing, which is a good thing because then, he can’t see the heat that spreads across your face.

You get up with both of your mugs, giving up on arguing because you’re whipped for Kim Seungmin and will probably do anything he asks of you as long as he repays it with a forehead kiss.

“Seungmin, we’re fucked.”

The boy looks up from his laptop to see you pouting and holding the two mugs like shopping bags, both empty of his hot bean water—he learned the term from Jisung—which concludes that you either broke the coffee machine again, or you really just wanted him to be the one to fill your coffee mugs, which would make no sense because he already said he’d go twice so-

“Were out of coffee!” You announce it like it’s the most horrible thing, and it startles him a bit. Regaining composure, Seungmin assures you that you guys don’t need coffee anyway, you’ve both already consumed about 4 mugs separately.

“It’s easy for you to stay awake without coffee Minnie, you already stay up late playing with Felix, its why your eye bags have grown—hey don’t look at me like that—but I need coffee! My body isn’t used to staying up without caffeine!”

He decides to ignore your comment about his eye bags, you’ll probably force him to wear some kind of face mask anyway, and proceeds to take the mugs out of your hands before you start crankily swinging them around and breaking all of your furniture.

“Just do what you can tonight and finish up tomorrow morning, babe.” He advises, leading you back to your seat on the floor. He never really understood why you preferred doing all your work on the cold tiles rather than the couch, but you once said something about the coldness keeping you awake.

“But I need to finish this essay.” You whine.

Seungmin only smiles knowingly at you before placing another kiss on the space between your eyebrows.

“Google how to stay awake then.”

This prompts you to do just that, and you scroll through different websites of 5 tips on how to stay awake to even a wikiHow guide with pictures.

You finally stumble on a trick that you think might work, and move to venture back into the kitchen.

When you return to your seat, it’s with a cup that holds bits of crushed ice. Piece by piece, you put a small shard in your mouth and chew. Immediately, you feel more awake than when you were just drinking coffee. With this newfound energy, you continue working on your paper, stopping occasionally to plop another piece into your mouth.

crunch crunch crunch

And it is because of this spec-

crunch crunch crunch

specific factor in Kant’s-

crunch crunch crunch

theory are we able to conclude that-

crunch crunch crunch

oh my fhckign god iuwech fvoiumacxiahscmv

Seungmin stares at the keyboard smash on his screen. It’s been about fifteen minutes since you’ve realized this new hack of yours, and now every five seconds, you loudly chew another ice cube.

He doesn’t usually mind loud chewing, and it doesn’t annoy him as much as it annoys you, but ironically, the situation seems to have switched because now all he wants to do is grab another ice cube and shove it down your throat—lovingly of course, because you are the love of his life, but still-

crunch crunch crunch

Oh my god, he cannot do this anymore. Seungmin rips his laptop off of him, scrambling to get up. It’s almost 3 a.m. at this point, and he just wants to finish this stupid essay without the sound of your obnoxious chewing.

He freezes when his eyes settle on you.

Pouring another cube into your mouth from the cup, Seungmin watches as the ice has formed a permanent layer of sheen over your lips. You don’t notice him staring, which is a good thing because now he can’t seem to take his eyes off your mouth. Over time, the hue of your lips has changed into a brighter shade of red due to the coldness of the ice.

Seungmin knows you don’t have sensitive teeth, because you bite your ice cream and he always judges you for it, but the lack of feeling you have in response to the cold in your mouth has enabled you to eat ice cube after ice cube.

With your impatience, he watches as you reach for the cup and put two more pieces into your mouth, and the sight of your cheeks full and the small drips of water spilling from the corner of your lips has Seungmin shifting in his seat to fix the sudden southwards rush of his blood.

Shit.

You don’t notice the predicament you’ve unknowingly placed your boyfriend in. You’re too busy scanning over the ninth paragraph of your essay and looking for any spelling or grammar mistakes. The ice has worked wonders with keeping you awake.

You pour another ice from the cup and start chewing. From the corner of your eyes, you see Seungmin scramble off his seat and settle beside you, but you don’t think too much of it. 

Which is why it comes as a surprise when you feel his hand snake around your jaw and turn your head towards him.

There are no words that can accurately describe the sudden rush of butterflies in your stomach at the sight of your boyfriend staring at your mouth with extreme concentration. The only fitting words seem to be oh fuck, but that doesn't seem romantic enough.

You’re about to ask him what he’s doing when he tilts your head the slightest bit and slants his lips against your own. There’s an overwhelming sensation of warmth that floods your mouth in contrast to the cold bits of chewed up ice. Seungmins hands snake across your jaw to angle your head, while the other one wraps around your thigh and tugs one leg over his lap.

His teeth nip against your lips, causing you to release a sudden whimper that he just swallows. Your hands smooth over his chest before finding home at the nape of his neck, tugging and pulling at the hairs. His tongue maneuvers into the crevices of your mouth, and you seem to forget the melted ice that gathered below your tongue because before you know you it, drips of water spill from the corners of your lips.

Seungmin grunts at the feeling of water dripping out of your mouth and into his, before pressing you closer, chest to chest and thighs wrapped around him. The pressure of your hips against the stiffness in his sweats makes him grip your jaw tighter.

He lets out a low moan that has your stomach twisting at the sound, and just like every other time you’ve made out with your boyfriend, you conclude that Kim Seungmin will definitely be the death of you.

When he pulls away, his eyes are dark and filled with lust. You’re guessing it mirrors your own.

“Fuck.” He groans.

Your lips are dark and bruised, and confusion of where the hell this all came from fly out the window when he grips your hips down to grind on him. The whine that you let out would embarrass you if you weren’t so preoccupied with the way your nails dig into his shoulders.

Seungmin reaches behind you to take another ice cube. The shuffle of movement allows you to breathe, which isn’t enough (it’s never enough when it comes to him) before he’s back in his original place with you straddling him, centered over his hips. He wipes his thumb over your lips with one hand, and he pulls your mouth apart to shove the ice cube in.

“Bite, baby.”

His voice is low and raspy, and it does things to your insides. You chew a few times, enough for the ice to shatter into tiny bits across your mouth. And then he’s angling your head to roughly connect your lips again.

You never do finish your essay that night.

notes♡: ahah so uhmm... yeah 👉👈 also im pretty sure chewing ice is actually bad for your health so probably ᵈᵒⁿᵗ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃʰᵃʰ

[lastwagontrainhopper]

Soft sorrow

I hope it’s not too late to submit work for Royai Week! This one is for the 5th prompt (a picture of a couple sitting on a bench, watching the sunset).

Summary:  Even the goodest of boys must one day be laid to rest... Riza is in need of some comfort after the loss of her furry friend.

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24713377 French version : link coming soon.

----

Being assigned to Mustang’s squad was, as Lieutenant Cooper quickly realized, in a lot of way like landing in a parallel universe.

The squad functioned in a way that was unlike anything Cooper had experienced since joining the military. Generals usually managed an entire military base or a fortress, and had only one or two direct subordinates that acted as second-in-chief or bodyguard; the rest of the troops were under their orders through a long chain of command.  

General Mustang, on the other hand, was stationed right here in Central and had insisted on keeping direct control on a small team in addition to his other responsibilities. It was a close-knit squad that had gone through little change over the years: Mustang was always reluctant to trust soldiers he didn’t know, and was picky about the type of people he wanted in his team. For several years, Officer Warrant Falman’s position had stayed vacant, until the arrival of Cooper a few months ago.

Although unique, the Mustang squad universe was governed by an extremely specific set of rules that Cooper was quick to learn. Those rules determined the behavior of each member of the squad with clockwork precision. Mustang gave the orders and procrastinated; Breda teased Havoc and called dinner time; Havoc retaliated and smoked the office; Fuery tinkered and brought some much-needed optimism; and Hawkeye overviewed everything and kept the clock hand running.

That is why Cooper could not believe his eyes when, on an ordinary autumn morning, the Captain came to stand in front of Mustang’s desk and asked for a day off.

Hawkeye never  took unplanned time off; that was another one of the rules he had learned, the only exceptions being when she was preparing a coup and when she was at death’s door. She seemed a little tired, yes, but she was certainly not dying, and Cooper did not want to consider the other option, so…why such a request?

The other members of the squad glanced at each other, all of them as surprised as he was, except for the General. After hearing her demand, he looked at Hawkeye with a compassionate look on his face and answered in a soft voice that Cooper had never heard him use.

“Of course. Don’t worry about us, Captain, we’ll manage. Take as much time as you need.”

Hawkeye nodded stiffly, turned on her heels and left the room without a word.

After a while, Breda broke that silence that had settled in the office.

“General…. what’s going on?”

Mustang let out a loud sigh and ran a hand over his face. Cooper now noticed that he also seemed pretty tired – although that wasn’t unusual for him.

“It’s Hayate”, replied the General after a moment. “He’s been sick for a while now…limping, hardly eating anything, that sort of stuff. Yesterday, it got worse all of a sudden: he could hardly move. I guess it hasn’t improved since then.”

The men nodded, understanding. The news didn’t seem to surprise them; after all, old dogs often got sick, and Hayate was apparently barely younger than the squad. This had made him the unofficial mascot of the team; yet Cooper felt that his colleagues’ concerns were more about the Captain. He was new to this place, but even he had noticed the strong attachment that Hawkeye, who always seemed so unemotional, had to her dog.

The rules of this small universe were simple, but Cooper was beginning to understand that they concealed another layer of them, more subtle and complex. Hawkeye seemed cold and reserved, but her dog wasn't the only one to receive her affection: she could be warm-hearted with the members of her team, and always had words of comfort for those who needed them. Breda gave the impression of being oafish, but he had a sharp and crafty mind; and beneath Mustang’s apparent laziness laid a burning passion and an iron will to reach his goal.

But perhaps the main unspoken rules were those concerning the relationship between the General and the Captain.

Cooper was not clear yet on the nature of that relationship. Mustang had a lot of affection for his adjutant, that was for sure; but the two had worked closely together for almost twenty years, and Cooper had picked up that they apparently knew each other before even joining the military. Their fierce loyalty and deep understanding of each other could very well only be the result of a childhood friendship.

On the other hand, there were the knowing glances the other men of the squad exchanged from time to time, and certain details that spoke volumes – such as the fact that Mustang had been the only one to know about Hayate’s condition. Despite this, Cooper had never tried to find out more, out of respect for his superior.

The rest of the day went by quieter than usual, even though the missing person was usually the one bringing the office back to order. Unsurprisingly, Mustang didn’t get much work done; but instead of sleeping or making phone calls as he often did in his adjutant’s absence, he seemed mostly lost in thought and glanced worriedly at the clock from time to time.

A few hours after dinner, he got up from his desk and asked for their attention.

“Alright! We’ve worked well this morning, and I think we could all do with some rest. Let’s call it a day; you’re good to go.”

Cooper wasn’t expecting this. Being dismissed almost half a day early? No one ever did this.  

“Are you gonna check on the Captain, sir?” asked Breda.

Mustang nodded as he put on his coat.

“We should probably do that too”, Fuery chipped in. “Taking care of a sick dog is a lot of work; she’ll probably need a break or a good meal.”

The rest of the team agreed, except for Havoc who had to go home to look after the kids, and the men continued to chat as they got ready to leave. Hawkeye didn’t answer when Mustang called her apartment; they concluded that she was probably still at the vet.

“It’s hard to believe that Hayate is already an old dog,” Fuery commented as they walked down the stairs. “It feels like only yesterday he was still a puppy!”

Breda answered with a tired grunt.

“It sure makes us feel old…If I remember well, you and Falman were still living in the barrack at the time he arrived. You were the one who found him on the street, right?”

They stepped into the General’s car and spent the ride reminiscing, explaining to Cooper how the dog had come to join their squad. Only Mustang stayed out of the conversation. After a few minutes, Breda looked out of the car and frowned.

“We’re going to the veterinary hospital, aren’t we? Are you sure you’re going in the right direction, sir?”

“Yes, but I’m making a short detour,” he replied distractedly. “I want to check something first…”

A few streets later, they started to drive along the main park of Central, and Mustang slowed down the car.

“That’s her favorite spot to walk Hayate, so I thought…” he began, scanning the park from his car window.

“Oh!” exclaimed Fuery. “Is that her, on the bench?”

From the back of the vehicle, Cooper twisted his neck to get a better look, and finally caught glimpse of a blonde woman sitting near the middle of the park.

“Hayate doesn’t seem to be with her”, Breda noted. “That’s not a good sign…”

The men glanced at each other with a knowing look. They all knew there was only one reason why Riza would be neither with her dog nor back to work. Mustang parked the car in the closest spot he could find and turned back toward them, a grave expression on his face.

“I’ll go talk to her. If you guys want to go home,” he threw the key at Breda, “we’ll take a taxi.”

He took a deep breath, got out of the car and walked away.

The three men watched him entered the park in silence, and after a while, Cooper spoke up.

“We’d better get out of here, shouldn’t we? To give them some space…”

“I agree,” replied Fuery, “but…” He gave Breda a sideways look. “Isn’t it a bit risky for them?”

“Given the weather, there aren’t many people in the park, and the sun is setting soon anyway. On the flip side, he’s in uniform, and we’re not that far away…” He paused to think for a moment. “I think I’m going to hang out close to the entrance for a while,” he concluded, glancing at Fuery with intent.

Fuery understood immediately.

“Good idea. Cooper, want to hang out by the other entrance of the park?”

While he followed Fuery, Cooper found himself once again fascinated by the secret rules that governed Mustang squad’s small universe.

-------

As she saw Roy approaching, dressed in the military blue, Riza straightened her back and turned her head away, hastily wiping her eyes. She was dressed in her civilian clothes, and the light wind was pushing locks of loose hair into her face.

“General”, she greeted in a strangled voice as he stopped in front of the bench. “Was the workday productive?”

Roy stared at her worriedly, ignoring her question.

“Hayate”, he began in a soft voice, “is he…”

Riza looked down at the ground and simply nodded.

“They had to put him down. There wasn’t much they could do, he was just too old…” Her voice trailed off.

Roy sat down next to her. “I’m sorry, Riza.”

She felt her eyes starting to fill with tears and looked the other way, embarrassed. “Sorry, I know…” She took a deep breath and exhale slowly, trying to collect herself. “I know it’s silly, it’s only a dog, but…”

“Riza!” She snapped her head at him, surprised by his offended tone. Roy took her hand in his. “It’s not silly,” he said firmly. “He’s been by your side for, what, twelve years?”

“Fourteen”, she corrected without a thought, looking at the medals on his uniform.

“For fourteen years,” he continued. “He was important to you; it’s only natural that you would feel sad about losing him.” His expression softened. “You’re allowed to cry over a dog, Riza.”

She finally met his eyes; the understanding and compassion she read in them made her choke up, and she didn’t manage to answer.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closed to him. Riza hesitated, but there was no one around she could see; after a moment, she leaned against him and rested her head on his shoulder. They stayed like this, without talking, both lost in their thoughts.

“He’s had a good life, you know,” Roy said after a time. Riza wasn’t sobbing, but her chest rose and fell violently, and her cheeks were covered with silent tears. “Dogs want nothing more than to feel useful, and you know how much he loved to come with you on missions.”

She nodded, her throat still tight. “He saved my life…four or five times, I think.” A shadow of a smile touched her lips. “He probably did it more often than you, actually.”

Roy laughed quietly. “I don't have any trouble believing that. He really was an exceptional dog.”

Riza closed her eyes. She could feel Roy’s thumb rubbing circles into her shoulder, and heard the wind sweeping dead leaves around their bench.

Even though her heart seemed as heavy as lead, Riza felt strangely serene. Her sorrow was deep, yes, but it was a soft kind of sorrow. All the mourning she had gone through in her life had been stained with shame, resentment, and above all guilt; they were weighted down by duty and intertwined with stories of conspiracies, alchemy, genocide. She couldn’t even grieve without blaming herself for it: what right did she have to cry over Ishval when she had been the one to commit the crimes? How could she allow herself to lament over the state of her back, when she had been the one who wanted Roy to burn it?

But for once, her sadness brought nothing more than sadness. In the midst of her complicated life, Hayate had been a source of simple joy, and his death brought her a simple sorrow. It was her dog, and Riza had loved him; the pain that she was feeling only showed how deeply she had cared, and for once she had no reason to blame herself over it.

Having Roy by her side made her sorrow softer still.

More than anything in Riza’s life, her relationship with Roy was a heavy and complicated mess. They carried so much pain, so much guilt towards each other; they had apologized for countless harm they’ve done to the other, but had forgiven themselves for none of them. Their common past was full of remorse and their future together filled by uncertainty; and the mourning they had shared had been as complex, if not more, than anything else.

But not this one. For a moment, they were not soldiers trying to make right for a genocide or overthrow a government. They were nothing more than a grieving couple who had lost their dog; an ordinary couple going through life’s small hardship. A normal couple with a very real, but normal pain.

And for a moment, despite everything, it felt just right.

[heysawbones]

Congratulations, Me; You’re Slow

Surprise, me! You’re literally slow. As in, your processing speed - the rate at which your brain takes in stimuli and makes sense of it - is below average. Quantitatively. The average is 100. Yours is 94. 

Three years ago, I was given a cognitive battery. I’ve had an unusually high number of these in my life. Most people will never have even one. I’ve had four; one to assess for the Gifted and Talented program in kindergarten, one to reassess for the same when I changed school districts, one to assess for ADHD, and yet another, the latest, to assess for the same, as the prior records were lost. ADHD runs in my family, but I seem to have been one of those kids who compensated really, really well. Was I organized? Not even a little. Lose things? Constantly. I procrastinated like a motherfucker, too, but it was usually easy to make up the work in class before it was due. I would drive hard to complete the GT project-based assignments at the last minute, and always did fine. Better than fine, even. Sure, I used to obsessively braid yarn or draw in class, but nobody had any reason to suspect I would have issues with things like maintaining attention or executive function later on. If they did, I never heard about it. Even today, it’s not obvious; people associate a certain flightiness with ADHD and that isn’t me. People associate a lot of things with ADHD that aren’t me. This has been so much of an issue, in fact, that despite meeting diagnostic criteria over and over, as admitted by clinicians, people have been hesitant to give me the diagnosis. The argument deployed tends to be: you have all the symptoms, but you also have chronic depression, which has the same symptoms, so we’ll just go with that one. The underlying rationale, the unspoken answer to “why can’t it be both? they often co-occur” seems to be: you are too articulate and self-aware to have ADHD. It boils down to you’re too smart to be slow. 

This is unfair to me, and demonstrably untrue, besides. I recognized this long ago. I am the one who has to figure out some way to compensate for the symptoms. Yes, the symptoms of depression and ADHD overlap (especially if you are depressed for a long time), but the treatment of those symptoms is not the same. I have been in treatment for depression for over ten years. Am I better than I was? Unquestionably so. 

Do I function at a level sustainable for an adult not on disability? Can I get places on time? Can I catch a plane without showing up 14 hours early, lest I show up 14 hours late, or at the wrong airport entirely, instead? Do I remember things people told me yesterday? Can I go to Target without the possibility of getting caught up in a weird cognitive trap where I want bananas, but am too guilty to buy them unless I do the rest of my grocery shopping, which I don’t have the mental energy for? Do I remember enough of my meds when I go on trips? Can I stop persistently putting things in places that make no sense, and then having no idea that I’ve done it 15 seconds later? Can I manage an adult’s schedule? Can I remember to pay bills on time? Can I remember what I’ve spent money on in the last week? Can I remember what I ate this morning? Can I hold down a job that is, honestly, below my abilities in many ways?

The answer is, of course, sometimes yes. Distressingly frequently, it is no. Where travel is concerned, it is always no, and somehow, I have managed to show up at the wrong airport entirely more than once. 

Yes, I recognize that these are problems all people have, to some degree, at some time in their lives. If people are willing to act on the belief that I am too smart to be slow, why is it that when I account for my concerns and attempt to articulate the impact they have on my life, I am suddenly not self-aware anymore, and am only overreacting to what obviously MUST be the same degree of these problems that other reasonable adults experience? Why am I credible in other areas, but not this one? If I am so smart, why is it assumed that I’ve failed to account for my own emotional bias when gauging the difficulty I am experiencing? Why is it more satisfying to assume that I am not trying hard enough, then it is to accept that a smart, self-aware person may, in fact, have some kind of Brain Problem that, really, there is no logical contraindication to, and much evidence, for? When I do the responsible thing and insistently pursue all reasonable options to address my mental and neurological health, with the goal of being a functional contributor to society, why is this so persistently reduced to a fetish specifically for an ADHD diagnosis? I’m smart when it’s convenient for others, but not when it comes to the ability to draw cause and effect relationships from my own behavior, and make comparisons between those and the behavior of others? If I got treatment that worked, I wouldn’t care what the diagnosis was. Come the fuck on. I’m tired of this.

-----

Anyway. I sat down with the results of that three-year-old cognitive battery. I’ve read the summary before; it’s peppered with lines like

“There is also considerable other evidence in this testing consistent with a diagnosis of ADHD”

“In my experience, some individuals who are very bright are able to compensate for some of their disability”

“this distribution of index scores is very typical of individuals with ADHD”

“Many of the behaviors she describes are certainly typical of individuals who suffer from ADHD. Unfortunately, the coexisting history of chronic major depression and PTSD make that differential diagnosis based on history alone difficult” 

When I first read that last year, I was shocked because the therapist who requested the cognitive battery, only expressed surprise that I was “very smart” and said that my “scores were fine.” When I later confronted him after having read the summary myself, he merely admitted that some of my scores were “lower than others”. He never entertained the possibility that I had ADHD, which in an of itself, wouldn’t have been a problem if he’d been willing to just try the treatments for it, since clearly the two industrial-strength doses of antidepressants I was already on, were not cutting it. Alas, he was not, and it wasn’t until after he retired that the issue was addressed again.

Surprisingly, I was not the person who addressed it. When my therapist-MD retired, I needed at least a primary care provider to manage my medications. Since the appointment was for psych med management, I had to fill out a bunch of related intake forms - you likely know the kind. While looking them over, my new doctor peered up at me and asked, “Has anybody ever suggested that you might have ADHD?” I was taken aback by the question and wasn’t sure where to start. Them? Asking me? if I have ADHD? She asked me? 

I told her that I’d had two full cognitive batteries done, and that both of them concluded roughly the same thing: yes, all the symptoms are there, no, we do not know if it’s ADHD because there’s too much background noise from other psych issues. Without skipping a beat, she said the most amazing thing to me: 

Well, whatever it is, you have the symptoms, so let’s treat them.

God. Why didn’t someone say that years ago? Diagnoses are human constructs; we use them to group symptoms that tend to occur together, when they’re thought to have the same causes. Depression and ADHD have many (but not all) of the same symptoms, but the overlap doesn’t qualify as a diagnosis because the causes are assumed to be different. I think we often forget that diagnoses are containers for commonalities that we use to make talking about medicine easier, not necessarily biological phenomena unto themselves. If you remember that they are containers - a sort of conceptual shorthand - then it follows that if one treatment for a set of symptoms isn’t solving the problem, you ought to try a different treatment often used for the same symptoms, even if the minutiae of diagnosis means you aren’t sure you can apply the diagnosis typically associated with that second treatment*.

I am now on Vyvanse. Does it magically solve my problems? No. Does it help? Yes. I am in a much better position to actually address the bad habits and coping mechanisms someone like me builds up over the years. The notable insomnia should wear off over time, and besides, as a person with an existing sleep disorder, having fucked up sleep isn’t new. It’s a price I’m willing to pay.

-----

Anyway. So I sat down with the results of that three-year-old cognitive battery, because I had to dig them up for my new therapist. Instead of reading the summary, I dug into the raw numbers: the related tests are the Weschler Adult Intelligence Scale IV (WAIS-IV), and the Weschler Memory Scale III (WMS-III). I couldn’t find sufficient guidance on interpreting the WMS-III, so I’ll stick with the WAIS-IV scores:

At first inspection, these scores do look “fine”. Anything within 10 points of 100 in either direction qualifies as “average”, even if 100 is “the average”. But on further reading, both in the summary and out: 

-Examination of these results reveals considerable significant variability between various functional capacities, with VCI of 141 a full 3 standard deviations above PSI of 94.** Problems with both working memory and processing speed impacted her overall IQ considerably, bringing her Full Scale IQ down to 120 (from 133). 

-A significant difference among subtest scores can suggest a problem in the particular skill being tested; this might underlie a learning disability. A significant difference among standard Index Scores might also indicate a learning disability, ADHD

-when I see a difference in IQ scores such that the verbal and nonverbal scores are far superior to the processing speed score, I try to discern what could be causing the discrepancy.

-LD diagnoses are also reliant on score discrepancies. On the WAIS, a gifted individual with ADHD may look like this.

Verbal comprehension - 132

Perceptual Reasoning - 129

Processing Speed - 97

Working memory - 101

Absolute scores aren’t the only diagnostic tool. Relative scores are also important. For example, average scores across the board wouldn’t be indicative of a working memory or processing speed issue, whereas great discrepancies between those parameters and others, is - even if the working memory and processing speed scores themselves are the same in both examples. What I’m saying is, it’s right there. It’s in the numbers. There’s no wiggle room. My old therapist saw these numbers, and not only did he choose not to act on the information, he pointedly refused to do so. If he hadn’t retired, I’d look into suing for malpractice. It’s in the god damn numbers, my dude. I don’t care what you want to call it, the deficit is right. there.

What did I ever do to him? Did he just... not believe ADHD is real? More to the point, did he think I somehow, without knowing the ins and outs of the WAIS-IV, faked the deficits or something? Really, guy, what the hell?

-----

Do I feel bad about being slow? Honestly, no. I might have if I found this out 10 years ago, or in circumstances wherein that reality didn’t perfectly explain aspects of my experience that other people have been prone to downplay, or dismiss entirely. Instead, it’s the closest I can get to scientific verification that I’m not just losing my shit over nothing over here; that something has, in fact, gone awry, and may always have been awry. I couldn’t compensate forever (though the ways I’ve done it are many, and in retrospect, interesting) and now I’m on the other end of it, trying to rebuild. I am, as I like to say, building an exoskeleton - something that will hold me up when my brain insists on faceplanting. I’m just grateful there’s someone out there who isn’t too caught up in the semantic navel-gazing of diagnosis, to help.

*There are obvious exceptions here, such as when the two diagnoses have causes whose treatment is contraindicated in the other diagnosis. This is not the case with depression and ADHD.

** You see that Percentile Rank of 34? That means I performed better than 34 percent of people my age, at least according to the test sample. That’s. Not great.

[finn-nelson-for-the-win]

The Good Life: Chapter 6

Hello, my lovelies! I procrastinated writing this chapter even though I knew that I had plans for this week/weekend, so alas...here I am posting this week’s chapter at the last second to stay more or less on schedule for posting haha.

Need to get caught up? The Good Life: Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4 , Ch5

If you want to be added (or removed) from the tags list for this story, just feel free to let me know!

@pink-royaute @believethaticanandiwill @milllott @likeashootingstarfades @i-dream-of-emus @eveerez​

The Good Life: Chapter 6

Rae moved things around haphazardly on her desk trying to find the source of the loud ringing that had interrupted the music that had been playing through the wireless speakers on Rae’s desk.

“Hello!” Rae said when she found her phone and answered it moments before it would have automatically gone to voicemail.

“There you are, Rae-Rae! I wasn’t sure that you were gonna pick up the phone,” Chloe replied on the other end of the phone call.

“Sorry, I’ve been unpacking the last couple boxes in my bedroom all day since I got back from work this morning and I guess my phone got lost on my desk during the process.”

“No need to apologize! It’s just been a while since I’ve heard from you and I wanted to know if you were free to video chat? If my memory serves me right, you still owe me a brief tour of your apartment!”

“Yeah, now’s a good time for me. I’ll go ahead and end this call and you can video call me and I’ll answer on my laptop.”

Rae and Chloe each ended the call on their side and Rae walked over to her bed to unplug her laptop and get ready to answer the video call from Chloe.

After a few minutes, a shrill ringing sound came through the speakers on Rae’s laptop and Chloe’s contact picture appeared on the screen with the option to accept or deny the video call.

“Hiya Chloe!” Rae said cheerfully as she answered the video call and saw her best mate appear on the screen.

“Hey babes! How are you today? You look exhausted!”

“Wow, thanks Chloe,” Rae replied with an eye roll, “I am pretty tired. Work today was really long and boring. Moving and unpacking and whatnot has also been really tiring. I turned in my keys to my old apartment on Friday, so I’m officially completely moved out of that apartment, but going back and forth between the two different places for the last week or two has been super hectic.”

“I can definitely understand that, but at least you’re done now! You mentioned that you finished unpacking all your boxes here at the new place though, right?

“Yeah, just before you called me. I’m still trying to figure out where exactly to put some of the stuff, but at least I have space to walk around my bedroom without all these boxes in the way.”

“So, what do you say? Can I get the unofficial grand tour of the place or what?”

“Yeah, of course!” Rae replied with a chuckle as she picked up her laptop and walked out of her bedroom, “I’ll start by our front door and then I’ll end back in my bedroom again.”

Rae walked through each room of the apartment, stopping to angle her laptop camera at specific things that she wanted Chloe to see and telling Chloe about what they intend to put in each room if they had not already. Rae paid special attention to showing Chloe how nice the kitchen was and how spacious their balcony was, hoping that her best mate would like her new apartment as much as she did.

“So here in the living room we have the couch we bought together and the TV from my old apartment. It still works fine, so Finn and I decided that we might as well keep it out here,” Rae explained as she walked around the room, “And here we have one of my other favorite things about this apartment...the fireplace!”

“You guys have a fireplace? That’s gonna be so nice when it gets cold in the evenings in a few months!”

“I know! I don’t know how to use it yet, because it’s electric, but I’m excited to figure it out so then we can use it!”

Rae walked back to her bedroom to conclude the brief apartment tour and took a seat on her bed with her back against the wall.

“So, what do you think of the apartment?”

“I love it! It looks really nice and I think it’s going to be really good for you and Finn,” Rae hummed her agreement and Chloe continued, “Speaking of, how are things going between you and Finn so far? Is the whole ‘roommates’ thing working out for you two?”

“It’s been great so far. He’s been a lot of help with unpacking and we’ve done a lot of shopping for things in the common rooms together. It’s been a lot of fun to just hang out and bond as roommates as we get into the groove of living with each other too.”

“Oh, come on, Rae! There has to be something about him that you’re realizing is annoying about Finn now that you’re living with him. Does he snore? Is he shit about cleaning his dishes? There has to be something!”

“Uh, I dunno...he leaves the air on really cold sometimes so at night I need extra blankets or I get too cold.”

“That’s it?”

“I suppose so, or at least I can’t think of anything else right now,” Rae added with a shrug, “We’ve been getting along pretty well so far and haven’t really run into any issues thus far.”

“Well, just keep an eye on him and let me know if he gives you any trouble and if he does, I’m gonna make his life a living hell.”

“I appreciate that Chloe, but I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for him to slip up!”

“Anyways...are you both still on for the pub on Friday night? All of the gang has been anxious to hear more about how the apartment is working out and to see how the both of you are adjusting to roommate life.”

“Yeah, we should both be able to make it, I think!”

“Alright well, I guess I’ll let you go now. I’ll talk to you la—”

The sound of the front door of the apartment unlocking and opening pulled both Rae and Chloe away from their conversation.

Finn stepped through the front door of the apartment and hung his keys on the hook on the wall and walked down the hallway.

“Hiya!” Rae called to him through the open door of her bedroom.

“Honey, I’m home!” Finn sing-songed as he leaned against the frame of Rae’s door and gave her a wide grin.

“Ugh stop,” Rae balked in fake disgust.

“You know you loved it,” Finn replied with a chuckle, “Sorry, I’ve always seen people do that in shows and movies and I’ve secretly always wanted to do it too.”

“Was it as much fun as all the old shows make it seem?”

“It kind of was.”

“Well, I’m glad. I was just finishing up a video call with Chloe! Say ‘hi’, Chloe!” Rae said as she angled her laptop screen towards Finn so Chloe could see him.

“Oh! Hey Chloe!”

“Hi Finn!”

“I’ll just let you two get back to your conversation now. Sorry for interrupting!” Finn replied as he walked away from Rae’s open door and walked into his bedroom across the hall.

“Rae, is Finn gone now?”

“Er, yeah…”

“Good...what the fuck was that?” Chloe whisper-yelled.

“Oh, are ya talking about Finn’s greeting? That was just a joke.”

“Are ya sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure, Chloe. I have to go now and I’m sure you have better things to do than over-analyze every silly thing Finn says, so I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

Chloe was still talking when Rae laughed and ended the video call with an eye roll.

“Knock-knock,” Finn said as he tapped lightly on Rae’s bedroom door with his fist.

“What’s up, Finnley?”

“I just wanted to see if you were still talking to Chloe or not.”

“Nope! I just ended the call. Why?” Rae replied as she set her laptop down on the bed beside her and stood up, stretching slightly after sitting in an odd position for too long.

“Are we still on for Thai takeaway and shitty scary movies tonight?”

“Obviously! It is Thai food Thursday, after all,” Rae replied with smirk as she looked on her desk for the list she had made of low-budget horror movies they wanted to check out this week.

“Perfect, I’ll call in the order!” Finn replied with a wide smile as he turned away from Rae’s room and walked down the hallway.

A/N: At the end of the last chapter I said I was going to move away from dialogue-heavy chapters a bit, but I completely lied lol. I didn’t mean to lie, but this chapter came along pretty easily and just so happened to be pretty dialogue-heavy, so oops ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what the next few chapters have in store for us! Until next time: Stay awesome, my friends!

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 90,

Morning thought: I need to stop procrastinating and start figuring out a story for the equinox festival.  Then again, I haven’t heard much tell of anyone else making preparations so maybe I’m alright.

*******

The Village blacksmith retired today.  As Archivist, I was asked to come and record the completion of his last work.  

A muscular woman about Lin’s age came into the archive a bit before noon, introduced herself as Ka’ena, the blacksmith’s daughter, and informed me of the request.  She apologized for the last-minute nature of it.  It seems her father had stopped by a few days ago while I was out and was too old fashioned to leave a note but forgot to get around to coming back later.

I assured her that it wasn’t a problem.  It’s not like I had any other plans or appointments today.  Just so long as she didn’t mind giving me a few minutes to put away the documents I’d been working with (Priscilla’s) and retrieve my notebook for official recordings.  Also, if lunch were provided I wouldn’t object to that either.  I made a joke of it, but really, I do mostly work for food.

The smithy is down at the bottom of the Village’s hill.  Near the water and close to the outer edge of the Village proper.  If you think of the Village’s layout as being something like a cone it’d be in the bottom corner.  As we traversed the winding streets to get there I tried to make conversation with Ka’ena, partly to be friendly and partly to get more background on the situation for archival purposes.

Her father, Ka’eo, had slowly been growing more frail for a long time now.  No particular sickness or disease, just age.  In truth Ka’ena had been doing most of the metalwork for years now with her father mostly just reviewing finished pieces, doing minor detail work, and interacting with clients.  It seems that Lin’s situation of being an “assistant” for decades until her predecessor officially retires isn’t unique.  It seemed a little unfair to me to be doing most of the work and not be the one getting recognized for it.  She didn’t see it that way.  Said he’d been working longer than she had now far long before she first picked up a hammer, and even on the days when she had to help hold his arm steady she was still learning from him.  If people still wanted to see him as the Blacksmith, she wasn’t going to stop them.  Especially when he loved his work enough that he kept at it years after no one would have blamed him for stopping.  Except maybe his wife who had retired from weaving herself a few years back and the doctor who was concerned about the old man over exerting himself, but even then, only a little bit of blame.

Ka’eo greeted us warmly enough when we arrived, wiry, weathered, and welcoming  figure that he was.  There may have been a tremor to his arm - once surely bulging but now merely toned - as he extended it, but his calloused grip was as strong as mine as we shook hands.  “Frail” is a relative term I suppose.

Lunch was in fact provided.  “No good working on an empty stomach.  I’ve always kept to that and I don’t intend to break it now.”  Or he said something to that effect anyway before admonishing his daughter to keep up that habit in the future.

Over lunch I asked what this last work of his would be.  A tradition, he told me.  My attention was directed to a spot above the entrance to the workshop that was less sun-faded than its surroundings.  Normally, a metal emblem hung there bearing the initials of the Village blacksmith hung there.  It had already been taken down, cleaned, and melted.  Today he’d be recreating it for the new blacksmith.  In this case the initials were still the same so it was perhaps a little redundant, but tradition is a powerful thing, and it would still be new, shiny, and subtly different in style.  And redundant initial updating was a more than acceptable tradeoff for having his child as successor.  That’s not always the case.

Lunch concluded, work began.  Ka’eo would brook no help from either of us, so I spent the day watching, taking notes, and asking Ka’ena to explain the technical details of what I was witnessing.  Those have already been committed to the official archival record, so I’ll not be repeating them here.

While the old smith still had strength, it became apparent that what age had really robbed him of was steadiness and stamina.  Between the short pauses to breathe deep of the sweltering air and steady his shakes and the longer breaks to step away from the forge altogether to cool down and hydrate outside, what I’m told should have been a quick and easy job took until just past sundown.  Ka’eo made more than a few jokes about how angry Huan would be to see him right now.  Ka’ena didn’t find these jests to be particularly funny.  Indeed, more than once she looked about ready to tie her father down and fetch the doctor herself.

I don’t fancy myself good at reading others, but I got the impression that the whole ordeal was as hard on her emotionally as it was on him physically.  Every time the old smith’s hand started to shake, or his breathing grew ragged, or he started to sway a bit on his feet, she’d suddenly break off from whatever explanation she was giving me and take a step in his direction or start to offer help, and every time he’d notice, steady himself, and wave her off with a smile, a thanks, and an insistence that this was something he had to do himself.  He wouldn’t even allow water to be brought to him, just put where he could easily get to it.  It clearly frustrated her.  I can only imagine what it must be like to have to choose between a loved one’s health and pride.  And I’m sure all those melancholic thoughts and feelings that come with seeing a thing happen for what you know will be the last time and the marking of an end of a chapter of one’s life must have reached her on some level as well.

But, in the end the emblem was finished.  Shiny, new, and bearing characters of that script I’m finally starting to parse individual pieces of without too much of a literal headache.  The tradition of hanging it back in its spot was something to be done by the both of them.  And a good thing too, seeing as by the end I’m pretty sure Ka’ena was doing all the actual lifting while her father was barely able to lift his arms enough to symbolically keep his hands on it.

What followed was yet another one of those moments of intense, shared emotions for which I was but a contextless voyeur, duty-bound to witness.  Honestly though, duty to record or not, as the two of them held one another, looking up at the symbol of transferred continuation, hints of tears in both their eyes and voices, I found myself turning away in a sort of embarrassment.  It just seemed wrong to intrude on a moment like that.  Does that make me a bad archivist?  Should I have taken advantage of the fact they forgot I was there and scrutinized their every vocalization and expression?  Committed it to memory and then to paper so that some future peruser of the archives can stumble across the entry of this evening, relive the moment, and feel what I believed the two of them felt?  Or is it enough simply to remember that they lived?  That they cared for one another and felt a full range of emotions like any other human beings and that in that moment many of those emotions - pride, love, sadness, fear, joy, loss, hope, relief - were all tangled together as one.

I don’t know, but if you’re reading this, I think you just saw for yourself that which I was able to do.  And sure, I went and made this about me again, but this is my journal, not the official record.

And speaking of things for me rather than official duties, during some of those breaks - partly to satisfy my own curiosity and partly to change the topic off of worrying about whether Ka’eo would pass out from heat stroke -  I asked about where the Village gets all its metal from.  The short version is that most of it is just reused/repaired/recycled/reforged over and over again.  Most of Ka’eo’s work in his life has been repairing the heads of farming equipment older than he is.  I pointed out this still doesn’t explain where it comes from originally.  Ka’ena spoke up and said that while it had never happened in either of their lifetimes, she’d heard tales of a very long time ago of metal being brought back from either Cloud Tower or some island far to the north.  Not ore (to my surprise I actually had to explain the concept) but broken down finished pieces or hunks of scrap.  I’ll need to go digging (mining?) for reference to that in the archives one of these days.  Maybe that was Pat’s voyage to the decayed city?

But I digress.  Work was finished, emotions were had, the old man was brought back to his home, I was invited (to be able to go run and get help if he collapsed on the way I half suspect), the wife/mother was met (Niobe, nice lady, good cook), dinner was had, promises were made to see the doctor in the morning, and Ka’ena went back to her own home/husband/child while I went returned to the library to compile my official notes, write all this, and now collapse into bed from staying up too late.

<==Previous          Next==>

[acoupleofstars]

Thu Nov/22/2018

I stayed late at work. Procrastinated an assignment that I thought would be easy. I was late in the morning, though, kinda needed to stay anyway. He texted me, said he wasn't feeling too well. I asked if he needed something, "your company" he answered. I immediately put away everything and rushed to the parking lot so I could get to him. The lady guard saw my rush and didn't retain me with the revision:

-You are in a hurry, right?

×Yes, I need to get to class.

-It's ok, honey, just show me your purse.

I showed her the inside of my purse and she let me go

-Do you do your brows?- she stopped me.

×I just pluck them

-Oh, well they look really nice.

Said thanks and continued on my mission. That brightened my day a little.

I usually drive fast, but today I was faster. I wanted to get to him as soon as possible; he needed me. Got to the teacher's parking lot and reverse parked next to his father's Yukon. He sat in my co-pilot seat.

+Hey

×How are you feeling?

+Do you have gum?- he asked

×I have Halls

+Anything to take off the puke breath

+Turn on the stereo.

I turned on the car and set his phone up.

×Babe, I don’t think the pizza made you sick, we've eaten it before with dessert and you didn't take it too bad.

+It was instant soup, I hadn't had one since the shooting.

×Yesterday I puked too.

+What is wrong with us? You puke because you want to, I puke because I have to.

×Aren't we fucked up?

+You aren't fucked up, you look really good.

×It's because I puke. You don't look bad either, you don't look like you got shot 7 times.

+I don’t look like I have two bullets in my body that will forever be there.

×They won't even take out the one in your stomach?

+No, probably not.

×What are we gonna do? Do we stay here or where do I go?

He took out his weed in his old pill jar and started filling the pipe I just gave to him.

+This pipe is so good, you kicked ass. It can fit so much.

×Yeah, like a little joint but without all the ashes.

+And it's so easy to clean. I had one of these, but it was metal, wood is so much better.

He offered me the first hit but I refused, said that he should be first. After a couple of hits, he offered again and I accepted. Two fucked up students getting high on the teacher's parking lot. Turned on one of the incenses I brought from CDMX to tone down the pot smell. Yesterday it worked well; that and the airfreshener he gave me left no hotbox smell.

+These days I haven't been able to take this song off my head. Listen to the bad vibes it gives.

×How fucked up on drugs do you have to be to create this?

+A lot of them. He was addicted real bad. His OD was accidental, they gave him what it was supposed to be Xanax, but instead they have him fentanyl and took it like Xanax, but it's too heavy, the body can't take those doses so he died. Listen to those bad vibes.

×I get it, I feel in danger just listening to it.

+ I even feel guilty.

The song was on repeat. I turned off the incenses and we continued with the sesh. After a while, a guard in his motorcycle approached, we scrouched down to avoid being seen and he left after a minute.

×I saw this article today, it was about a danish man who traveled to a greek island...

+Yes! I saw it too, but wasn't it an indian island? That the tribe that lived there killed him.

×What? No, I'm talking about another one. I didn't read that one.

+Well, yeah, this guy wanted to study this tribe, but they don't want anyone to mix in nor interact with them, so they killed him. It's a very small community, like 30 people. It was really fucked up and everyone knew that this tribe was dangerous.

×And how did they know that he was killed?

+Because of the man that took him there, he payed to take him illegaly on his boat, there is no legal way to get there. But, what the fuck, right? Like, how is it possible that this kind of primitive tribe still exists?

He showed me the article on his phone and I just saw it astonished.

×The redaction is a bit weird though, what source is it?

+Yeah, I know, the BBC one was better.

+What the hell, it is really fucked up. But I was actually talking about a danish man that traveled to this greek island to help people that were running away from their country. But because they were really big groups in one boat, it would sink and the waves were massive so a lot of them were dying. He traveled there and helped a lot of people to get to the coast, but because of this, the coast guard arrested him and charged him with being an accomplice of illegal immigrants. Can you believe it?× He put his hand over my leg and I caressed it for a bit. ×He was fucking helping people, and they arrested him. How fucked up is our world that we let bad people like rapists and killers get away with their shit but when it comes to helping, they get arrested?.

We stood there in silence thinking about these stories. Humans are really strange creatures.

×The new girl at work is such a loser. Her parents nag her because she reads too much, they tell her to go outside and have a life.

+That bad?

×Yeah, Workmate says that she hasn't even had her first kiss. And she's such a kiss ass. Like real bad, she always is talking to our bosses and making conversation.

+Ugh, I guess she really wants to stay there.

×Yeah, she does. I mean, she's nice, but not my kind of people

There was silence again. We kept listening to the song and he took another hit. We don't mind being silent, it's never uncomfortable.

×I'm hungry× I said.

+Me too.

×But we can't binge, your stomach isn't right.

+Is Subway considered binging?

×Yes, a little.

+What do we eat then? What do you want?

×I don’t know, but something good.

+Subway doesn't count as binging.

×Fine, we can go there, but fast because we need to come back to class.

I turned on the car and started driving. As we got to the exit I started wondering why was I driving, he always drives. We both didn't know, but it was too late to switch.

+I really appreciate the fact that you don't judge me for being a fuck up at school.

×Fuck school.

+Park in that space

I obeyed, put eyedrops and we got out of the car. The Subway was empty and we both got Chicken & Bacon Ranch sandwiches with our own specifics: he likes his with lots of pickles, I like mine with double cucumber and no tomato. We both got Ranch and Chipotle dressing, just in different order. I left him paying and rushed to the restroom.

×You pick me a cookie× I said before leaving.

I gave him the keys so he would drive us back and we ate our sandwiches in the car.

×It's weird that people want us to be together. They don't get that we like being friends.

+Yeah, like IRSgal, she wants to force us to be something. It doesn't come to them that we aren't interested in being a couple.

×I know, it's such a strange thing to them how we are just friends.

We finished our sandwiches and were getting closer to school.

+I bought you two cookies because I didn't know which one you would want. I got double chocolate and chocolate chips.

×Double chocolate is fine.

I chose that one because I know he loves chocolate chip. He had his before the sandwich so I gave him the other one left.

+Can you be late to your class?

×Yes, no one takes that class seriously.

+Ok, I'll stop near my building and you go park your car, move quick.

×How stupid is it if you come to this side of the parking lot thinking you will find a spot?

He got out of the car and rushed to his class. At that time, the parking lot is full, it is nearly impossible to get a spot there because a lot of people are at school at that hour, is rare for someone to finish their classes in that time. However, I spotted a girl who was just leaving so I could get her spot. That was lucky.

I went to class and when I entered the room, spotted a fucking guy on MY seat. Everyone knows it's mine, I'm always there and alone. They know I don’t want to seat with someone, either my feet or backpack are in the chair next to me so no one can be by myself. I had to settle all the way in the front. Took out my phone and honestly didn't pay attention to anything the teacher was saying. It always makes me feel bad that no one takes his class or him seriously, but it's just that is really damn boring and uninteresting: Banking Law.

I was texting Starboy about Kylie Cosmetics's Black Friday sale and we were discussing if we should invest and resale at its original price. We concluded that the earnings would be too low and that it wasn't worth it. He said it needs to double.

-So guys, I guess this is it of the class. I just wanted to let you know that you were such a good group, that whenever I asked something you were honest enough to say "I don’t know and I don't care" and I appreciate the honesty. Thank you for this semester.

He's such a cute teacher, too pure so we take advantage of him. We don't deserve him. He checked our assistance and dismissed us. A couple of classmates said goodbye and hugged or shook his hand, but I just flew out of there, as always. Normally, he dismissed us 15 minutes earlier, but this time I only got left 5 minutes to get to my other class.

I arrived and, again, someone sat on my seat, however it's a large room so I don’t mind the next row. The teacher gave us our last exam, in which I got a 10/10. He gave us our current grade and said if we wanted to take the last exam to get our grade up, we could, but I just want the semester to be over, so I took my 8.2 and finished with that class. Two more to go.

Got out of the building and saw Frenchmate, gave him a pat on the chest but kept walking.

-Who are you?- he asked. His blindness never lets him see people, he needs glasses real bad, but prefers to spend the money on alcohol. I looked back and just gave him a peace sign.

-Stargirl!

I kept walking and didn't look back again. He followed me a little but didn't reach. I am still offended by the shit he pulled out. I'm not a whore, if he's with someone I will respect her. Fidelity is something I take very seriously.

I got into my car and as I was getting home, realized I didn't want to get there yet so I missed the turn and kept driving. I queued up some songs and just drove around for about 45 minutes. Thinking about Starboy, our future, how are we planning to get money if we are sick of working.

There was a bunch of people camping outside the american consulate and one of the men scared me so I braked really harshly, but then kept driving. I passed there for a second time and saw an ambulance and a traffic cop; probably someone ran over one of the people.

The queue was on its last song so I took my way home.

[godzillagirl-14]

Bear: Stuart Twombly x Reader

Pairing: Stuart Twombly x Reader 

 A/N: This is my first reader insert. This is also the first smut that I’ve done on here so bear with me. I also feel like the story line was all over the place, so I apologize in advance. Also, I apologize for any spelling and/or grammar mistakes as I’ve procrastinated really hard on this, starting this in like early April and not finishing it until 1:30 in the morning today, and I am way too tired to proof read. 

@writing-obrien

Warning: NSFW 18+

Word count: 4,814

 ~~~

Stuart’s POV 

 How do you deal with having a crush on the hottest girl in the office? Be a complete asshole and ignore her all the time, of course. Admittedly not my best decision, but it’s kept me from fucking her in front our co-workers, so that’s something, right? And I can’t help it. It’s not my fault that she could literally be wearing a paper bag and I’d still get a hard on. The way her jeans hug her curves and the shirts that make her look sophisticated, yet sexy at the same time. Or when she wears these cute little sun-dresses and sandals that make her legs look amazing. It can make any man fall to his knees. And to make matters worse, I was her supervisor. 

She was pretty much guaranteed the job when they advertised at her college and she was the first one to sign her name in her messy handwriting. We took a look at her background and she has the cleanest track record I’ve ever seen. Never smokes, doesn’t drink, and I wouldn’t be even remotely surprised if she were still a virgin. 

Anyways, when she first stepped through the doors of google, I was completely awestruck, much like every other guy within a 20 foot radius of her. I’ll never forget the way those jeans hugged her curves and how her Marvel t-shirt clung to her hips and dipped into a teasingly low v-line. We all just stood there staring at her while she awkwardly looked around. 

“Um.. Hi?” She said, offering a small wave. Neha came up to her, chuckling. “Stare harder guys and you actually might get her clothes off.” She said before grabbing her hand and dragging her off. Later on that day, my boss came up to my desk with her hot on his tail. “Hello, Stuart. To cut this short, you’re her supervisor and I need you to show her the basics.” He said quickly before leaving me with her. 

“Hi. I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.” She stuck her hand out and smiled at me. She was very timid. I stared at her hand, completely forgetting how to interact with a human and looked back up at her, my face blank. She awkwardly retracted her hand and rubbed the back of her neck. I huffed out a sigh before standing up and walking past her motioning for her to follow me. 

I lead her down the halls, showing her the various conference rooms, watching as she takes all of it in from the corner of my eye. “Oh, hey, Stuart!” a guy who I’ve honestly forgotten the name of said, coming up to us with an overly sweet smile. “What’s up?” I asked, giving him an awkward bro hug. “Nothin’ much. Ya know, just hanging around getting my stuff done,” he looked over my shoulder, pretending to just now notice Y/N and shoved me aside. 

“And who might this be?” he asked, sending her a flirty smile. She introduced herself and he continued to flirt with her. Or at least tried. The poor thing honestly just looked confused and when he actually asked for her number, a little too aggressively, she looked frightened. 

“Actually, we should be going. I have to keep showing her around.” I interrupted, grabbing her hand and dragging her down the hallway. “That was…. very strange.” She chuckled and my lips quirked up a little. Only a little. I lead her back to our office and showed her to her desk. “Alright, and that concludes the tour, that seemed to drag on for nine years,” I meant to say that last part quietly but I think she heard it because she frowned a little. “Anyways, if you’re confused or need help then come up and ask me or more preferably anyone else.” With those last (rude) words, I turned and headed back to my desk. 

“Wow, now your chances with her have surpassed negative eight.” Billy said, clapping a hand onto my shoulder. “Who said I wanted to get with her. For all we know, she could be the biggest bitch in the universe. I’m not setting myself up that low.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. 

“BULLSHIT!!” He exclaimed, causing a few heads to turn in our direction. He cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “She has got to be the purest soul that has ever stepped foot into this building and she can’t keep her eyes off of you.” He gestured his head towards her direction and I looked to see her talking to Neha, but her eyes were focused on me and they were flooded with curiosity. She smiled at me and then turned back to Neha. “Maybe she’s an observer.” I shrugged my shoulders. I heard him scoff while muttering a ‘whatever’. 

“Alright fine. But you have to admit, she’s pretty hot and and the only reason why any man wouldn’t want to get with that is because they are gay. Are you gay Stuart?” He asked, trying to strike a nerve. I glared at him, causing him to chuckle. “No. I am not gay. Dude, you’re old enough to be her great uncle,” I suppressed a smug grin as he scowled at me. “You shouldn’t be thinking like that or I may peg you as a pedophile.”

“She’s over 18, you shit face.” he spat before walking back to his desk, his scowl turning deeper at the sound of my laughter. “I feel the love, buddy.” I said sarcastically before turning back to my work. And by work, I mean my phone.

And that was our first impressions of each other. Ever since that day, I’ve had a serious case of Apodyopsis every time I looked her way. Every time she would come up to me, her cleavage would tease me, and her legs were begging to be wrapped around my head or my waist, so I could pound her into a parallel universe or make her scream so loud that a siren would be jealous, but I couldn’t. 

So, I would just sit there with a semi-hard on and give her the assistance she needed while throwing in an unneeded snarky comment. Every time I would make a comment about her, she would deflate and trudge back to her desk, where she worked quietly for the rest of the day. I honestly felt terrible for how I was acting, but it was either that or completely lose my shit and do things to her that would make the devil blush and I opted for the first option.

It was one of those rare occasions where she actually smiled. Everyone knew that she was extremely kind, but every time I looked her way, she was either sporting the best resting bitch face in history or this adorable little upwards curl on the corner of her lips, that made her look innocent. 

That’s another reason why I avoided her. Her innocence just makes me want her more, and if she’s as innocent as I think she is, then even the slightest look into my thoughts about her could have her holding out a restraining order on me. I don’t stand a chance with her.

Anyways, it was one of those occasions when she actually had a genuine smile on her face. That smile that could light up the whole room. That smile that could outshine the stars. That smile that could make the sun jealous. The only problem was that I wasn’t the one who was making her smile. She had just gotten a little stuffed bear, to add to her collection on her desk. Yep, She had a collection. 

She had a collection of stuffed bears that aligned her desk, near her laptop, on top of her phone, some under her desk if they were too big. Some of them were welcoming gifts from the staff, others were from her family. I debated on getting her one, but decided not to. She got yet another stuffed bear from Neha. This one in particular was a bear dressed as Princess Leia in her slave bikini. “Wow, the Princess Leia slave bikini. Chain and everything. Not enough to strangle anyone, but just enough to make things interesting.” Y/N said to Neha with a wink. They both grinned at each other before walking off. 

“You gotta stop eye raping her, man. That shit’s creepy.” Nick said, coming up from behind me. “I have an idea, why don’t you just ask her out. You might actually get somewhere with her.” I rolled my eyes and stood up to use the bathroom. While I was in the bathroom, Graham just so happened to walk in, cocky as ever. “I heard you’re having a little bit of trouble in romance, my dear Stuart.” He implied, in his bullshit accent. “Dude, I am standing in front of a urinal with my pants halfway down and my junk out. Add that to the fact that you’re a douche bag and I hate you with every single fiber in my being, you are the last person I want relationship advice from.” 

He just shrugged and proceeded to walk to the door. “Those are some very nice shorts Y/N has on today. Makes you just wanna walk up to her and just….. grab at her ass. You know, you don’t have a chance with her, like at all.” I tried to show that it didn’t affect me. “But you know, she was lucky enough to catch my attention, so I just might get up in that.” 

By this time, I had finished and was washing my hands. “You know, walking to the bathroom only to watch me pee and not use the bathroom yourself really says a lot about your character, Graham.” I said, shoving past him and walking back to my coworkers. 

It seems like no one will give me a break about this girl.

~~~

“Why are you always such an asshole to me?” Y/N yelled, trying to mask her hurt expression with anger. I glared at her seemingly getting more irritated as the night moved along. “Maybe because you’re acting like a fucking slut, shoving your tongue down some random girl’s throat!” 

Yes, you heard that right. 

Billy and Nick thought that it would be a good idea to go out and have some “fun” to make Y/N seem more welcome to the group considering that she’s still somewhat new. So here we are at the same exact strip club where we all got drunk off of our asses. 

Yo-yo was already getting his third lap dance, Lyle was sitting with Billy and Nick who were kind of playing chaperone, I lost Neha and Y/N, and I was sitting at the bar alone drowning in vodka shots and my thoughts. I was thinking about going to find Y/N and apologizing to her for being a first class douche bag. Obviously, I’m a more rational thinker when I’m tipsy. Setting my drink down, I set off to actually find her. And when I did find her, I was quite amused. 

Y/N stood on the dance floor in between two strippers grinding her ass off. I crossed my arms, leaning against the wooden post and stared at the way her body moved between them. She looked over and caught me staring, a smirk grazing her lips as she winked at me. She gestured me over with her finger and I stood there, challenging her with my own smirk. She pouted a little before tuning to the stripper in front of her, running her hands her body and onto her exposed breasts. The stripper behind her grabbed her waist, pulling her close to her to whisper something in her ear.

They both turned to look at me again but I was too preoccupied with the way her hips moved and how she bit her lip when I met her eyes again. She pulled away from them and walked up to me, a childish grin making it’s way across her lips. 

“Stewie, come dance! Cocoa and Rainbow are so much fuuunn.” she giggled as she threw her arms around me and made me support her weight. I looked over at the two strippers - Cocoa and Rainbow apparently - and saw that they were beckoning us over while still dancing. Looking down at Y/N, she had a childish pout on her lips and her dilated pupils looked up at me. “You’re drunk.” I stated, chuckling as she rested her head on my chest. “And you’re sexy.” She slurred, my eyebrows shooting up to my hairline. 

“I’m not as think as you drunk I am.” she whispered and I laughed a little as her arms snaked around my waist. This felt nice. Even though she was drunk off of her ass and won’t remember any of this tomorrow, but I was gonna make the most of it. She suddenly pulled away from me and grabbed my hand dragging me back to the dance floor. “Get some, Stuart!” Nick yelled and I turned to see him and Billy giving me smug looks. I rolled my eyes and let myself get dragged by Y/N. 

She wrapped her arms around my neck, playing with the little hairs and I slowly wrapped my arms around her hips bringing her closer to me. She turned around so her back was against my chest and she ground her hips into mine. I bit my lip as I leaned down and pressed light kisses to her neck, feeling her shiver. She turned around in my arms, her eyes slightly darker. 

She slowly turned around, going back to the stripper, who I assume was Cocoa. She smiled at her, pulling her in by her hips before crashing her lips onto hers. Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting that. I turned my attention from the current make-out session and saw the group just as shocked as me. “When I told her to just let go and go crazy, I didn’t think she was going to go that far!” Neha yelled over the music. 

My reality started crashing down as I watched Cocoa slip her tongue into Y/N’s mouth and as Y/N’s hand moved up to squeeze her breasts. I watched as a group of men started cheering them on and I felt my blood boil as when Y/N pulled away some grandpa grabbed her hips and started to grind with her as she smiled wrapped her arms around the back of his neck. She looked like she was having fun, like she felt free. But, I was too pissed with the way that guy, Cocoa and Rainbow were dancing with her to care. 

So, when she turned to me and gave me a bright happy smile, I scoffed, rolled my eyes and stormed out. 

Which takes us to reality and why we’re arguing. “How am I the slut? I was having fun! Maybe if you weren’t too busy acting like someone shoved a stick up your ass, you would know what that is!” She huffed as she crossed her arms. I wasn’t being fair and I knew it, but the alcohol coursing through my system made me not give a shit. 

“Oh yeah, you know letting some pervert dance with you while you make out with a stripper is totally fun, right?”

“Stuart, what are you talking about? You let a stripper deep throat your finger the last time we were there. Let the girl have some fun.” Nick interjected. Y/N grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the group. 

“What are you getting so mad about? I thought you and I were having fun and that maybe you-”

“Maybe I what? That maybe I actually liked you?” I let out a humorless laugh. I saw her cheeks and ears beginning to turn pink. “Listen, Y/N, on that dance floor meant nothing. And if you’re as dense as to think that I would like you over a drunken dance, then you need to wake up and join the real world, or else you’re gonna get hurt.” I was lying straight through my teeth. That dance and that moment when I held her in my arms meant a whole lot more than it probably should have. 

She looked at me, shocked, before her eyes filled with tears and her ears turned a darker shade of red. She glared at me, lifting her hand and slapping me across the face before turning and running off, running past the group and towards the highway. Everyone gave me disapproving looks before running and trying to catch up with her. 

I fucked up. 

~~~

Ever since that night, Y/N has tried her damned near hardest to avoid me. Whether it be during a lecture, at the cafe, in our office, she would move from one side of the room to the other, like I had the plague. 

Whenever she would need help with something, she would literally ask everyone but me. I needed to find a way to talk to her. Which is why I devised a plan to get her to converse with me even if she didn’t want to. 

As we were all walking down the hall for another lecture, I quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her into an empty conference room. She yelped at the sudden action and glared at me when I closed the door and leaned against it. “What do you want?” She snapped, her stance cautious and alert as she stared me down. “I wanna ask you…. if you want to come over to my place and……. watch a movie?” What the hell was I doing?

Her glare became stonier. “You really think that asking me to a movie night is going to make the way you acted and what you said to me is going to make things better between us?” She asked, crossing her arms, moving towards the door, trying to push me out of the way. I held my ground and I could tell she was getting frustrated as she huffed and pouted. I tried not to show that I was amused and remained “serious”. 

“Look, Y/N, I had a lot of alcohol in my system and I wasn’t in my right mind. I had no right to treat you like that and say that stuff to you, so I’m sorry..” Apologizing felt a little foreign, but I went with it. She stared at me a little before her features softened. “Let me make it up to you. I’m throwing a movie night,” I declared, gently grabbing her arms. “Everyone is invited and if you accept, I will be able to show you, that I’m not as much of an asshole as I put myself out to be.” she chuckled a little, rolling her eyes. “So, can I count on you being there? And if you’re not into it, you can walk out of this room, pretend this never happened and I’ll leave you alone.” I crossed my fingers and every possible appendage that she would say yes.

She stayed silent for a while and I thought that I would have to break out the puppy dog eyes before she sighed and rolled her eyes, a small smile playing at her lips. “There better be snacks.” She stated, smiling at me before walking past me and out the door. I let out a huge breath of relief, leaning against the door for support as a huge smile made it’s journey across my face. 

 ~~~

When I announced a sudden movie night at my house, the group were surprised to say the least. My excuse for the questions was me being honest. “I want to make up for me being an asshole.” So, here I was on this rainy Saturday afternoon, planning for my last minute gathering.

I had all the snacks set up. Chips, popcorn, candy and a stack of movies aligned itself on my table. I smiled at my work before my phone vibrated in my pocket and I looked to see that I got a text from the group. My smile dropped immediately. Everyone in the group had canceled, whether it be from other last minute plans or emergencies. The only one who didn’t text me was Y/N, but I doubt that she was still coming. I guess I blew my shot to redeem myself. 

As I was about to start cleaning up my snacks and putting away the movies, a knock sounded on my door. I set the movies down and walked towards my door, opening it to see a drenched Y/N. “Hey,” she stated, seemingly out of breath. “I over slept and almost missed the bus. Am I too late?” she asked, noticing my empty living room. 

“No, you’re right on time. Everyone else just couldn’t make it.” I shrugged my shoulders and she nodded, stepping inside the house. I noticed her shivering and dashed off to my room, trying to find a clean shirt for her. I managed to find one and a pair of boxers before I went back into the living room. She tried to protest, but I insisted and directed her to the bathroom. While I was trying to pour us some drinks, I didn’t hear her step in the kitchen. “Do you need any help?” she asked timidly, startling me and causing me to jump. I turned to her and swallowed a little. 

Why is seeing a woman in your clothing such a turn on? “U-uh, no, no I-I’m fine. Just go ahead and get settled in the - um - the living room. A-And I’ll meet you there.” I wanted to punch myself for fumbling with my words. She smiled at me before disappearing into the living room. We ended up watching a comedy and as the movie progressed, we ended up shifting closer together. Every time she would laugh, I would stare at her. I loved the way she laughed, it wasn’t like those annoying little school girl giggles. It was real. She looked over at me after she felt me staring. I felt myself leaning closer, watching as she began to lean in too. Just as our lips brushed, she pulled away with a small smile. “I’m gonna go get some more soda.” she said with a wink and a giggle. 

A smirk etched across my face as she stood up and walked away, a little sway to her hips. “Who knew you were such a little tease?” I said sitting up. She turned around and challenged me with a smirk of her own. “Am I?” She asked, slowly running her hands up her body and into her hair. I found myself nodding my head as I stared at her and watched her hands roam her body. 

I watched in awe as she groped her breasts through the shirt and her hips moved in a slow rhythm. 

Fuck it.

 I stood up and stalked towards her, grabbing her and shoving her against the wall. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” I asked, my breath fanning over her ear. A smirk graced my lips as I saw the goose bumps spread across her (y/s/c) skin. “Do you know the amount of restraint it took me to not bend you over my desk and fuck you until you’re crying tears of full pleasure every single time you so much as glance my way?” My hand slowly trailed down her collarbone, between the valley of her breasts, and to finally coil around her waist, pulling her closer to me. My thigh slotted between her legs as she held onto my biceps to keep herself up.

 “I-” her voice caught in her throat as I pushed her (h/c) hair behind her ear. I dipped down and softly pressed kisses across her throat, all the way down to her collarbone. “Use your words, Bear.” I saw as a blush crept onto her ears, at the nickname I gave her. I actually quite like that nickname, since it fits her so well. “I-I always thought you hated me because - you know- I tend to be annoying and clueless, so I can see why you wouldn’t like me, but I like you…” her voice got quieter as she trailed off. I chuckled as I trailed my kisses back up, stopping right below her ear. “I never hated you, Bear. And you’re not clueless.” I whispered, rewarded with a shiver. “But I-” the fact that she actually thought of herself that way and tried to protest it made me a certain type of angry. I cut her off by nipping harshly at that spot below her ear, causing her to yelp.

 I lifted my head and crashed my lips onto hers, squeezing her hips, making her gasp out giving me enough room to push my tongue in between her lips. I would like to say that the kiss was nice and innocent, but it really wasn’t. My tongue dominated her mouth as she desperately tried to keep up with my pace, me occasionally biting her bottom lip. I explored every crevice of her mouth, bringing my hands down to her ass, making her grind against my thigh. She pulled away from me, chest heaving as she tilted her head back. I nipped at her throat, a whimper leaving her lips. I came to my senses, snapping out of my lustful state momentarily. “You have to tell me to stop,” I murmured into her neck. “If you don’t want this, you have to tell me to stop, right now.” 

 “Please don’t. I want- I need- I-” she sounded absolutely wrecked and I smirked as I forced her to grind harder. “What do you need?”

 “I need you inside of me. I need you to fuck me until your name is the only coherent thing I can say. I need you to fuck me until I’m cumming all over your cock and I’m covered in so much of your cum that I’ll belong to you and only you. Please, Stuart.” She whined, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Look at my naughty little Bear, so needy for my cock to fill her up. You want me to fuck you, Y/N?” I teased, watching as she nodded frantically, her (e/c) eyes staring back at me, darkening with lust by the second. I stopped her grinding on me, adoring the small cry she made at the loss of friction and began to undo the ties of my sweatpants. I grabbed her shoulders and forced her down onto her knees, eye level with my crotch. She bit her lip as she shyly began to palm at my erection, causing me to groan at the contact, before she grabbed the waistband of my sweatpants and pulled them down, along with my boxers. 

Her eyes widened a little at the sight of my cock and she lifted a hand to wrap around me, causing me to buck into her hand. She leaned forward and sensually kitten licked the tip, all the while keeping eye contact with me. Oh, I was going to ruin her. 

She finally placed her whole mouth on me, gently sucking the tip while she pumped me in her hand. She looked up at me with those big (e/c) eyes of hers and something in me snapped. I grabbed a fist full of hair and started thrusting as fast as I could, relishing in the feel of hitting the back of her throat each time. She moaned around my cock, the vibrations going straight through me as I continued to fuck her mouth. I pulled back to let her breathe as she started pumping my cock with two hands, looking up at me, before spitting on the head and spreading it along my length. I groaned out as I pulled her up and slammed my lips back onto hers, trailing my hands down to her thighs, signaling her to jump. 

 Stepping out of my sweatpants, I turned and headed towards my room. I laid her on the bed, pulling my shirt off, like it burned my skin, making quick work to remove her clothes as well. I admired her naked body laying down, only for me. I felt a strong surge of possessiveness course through my body, as I pounced on her, my hands roaming all over her warm skin. “Mine.” I grunted as I grind my hips into hers, my dick sliding teasingly through her folds. “Please, Stuart. I’m yours, only yours, please.” She breathed out, lifting her hips to meet mine. I decided to put us both out of our misery and lined myself up with her entrance.

Slowly pushing in, I watched with a dazed expression as her eyes fluttered shut, and she arched up into me, her breast catching my attention. I quickly leaned down, taking her nipple into my mouth flicking my tongue over the hardened nub as she cried out and wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me in deeper, hitting a new angle. I groaned, pulling out almost all the way before snapping my hips back in. She reached up and grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me towards. 

I brought my lips down to hers, our tongues battling for dominance as I starting snapping my hips into hers at a rapid pace. She moaned against my lips as I went faster, my pace almost punishing. “Fuck, Stuart. Feels s-so good!” She moaned as she began to buck her hips, matching my pace. I groaned at the feeling, hiking one of her legs onto my shoulder, pounding deeper into her pussy. 

I grabbed her hands and held them above her head, ducking my head down to take her left nipple into my mouth again. I flicked my tongue over her hardened bud and felt her walls clench around me furiously as she threw her head back, bucking her hips up to ride out her orgasm, small whimpers leaving her lips. She relaxed after a couple seconds, breathing heavily as I pulled out.

 I was far from finished with her. 

 I gently flipped her over onto her stomach and she quickly got the message and adjusted herself, rubbing her dripping pussy against my cock. I tease her folds with my tip, my other hand smoothing over the soft flesh of her ass before I lifted it and sent a swift smack to the skin. Y/N lurched forward and yelped gripping harshly onto the sheet. I saw the arousal drip from her pussy down her thigh. I grope the flesh of her ass, smoothing down the skin as I lifted my hand and slapped it again.

 She lurched forward again, letting out a little whine, pushing her ass further into my hand. “You like that, baby?” I asked, teasingly as I watched her grind herself against my cock. She nodded her head rapidly and I landed another smack to her skin. “Yes! I love it! I love so much!” She whined, as I teased her folds with my tip again. I pushed in slowly, setting my punishing pace as she bit into the pillow, trying to keep herself quiet. 

I quickly pulled her up against my chest, groaning as she pushed herself against me to match my thrusts. “Come on, baby girl, don’t hide those pretty little noises you make. It’s just me and you. I wanna hear how good I make you feel.” I grunted in her ear, rewarded with a small moan. I wanted to hear more. I snaked one of my hands up and wrapped my fingers around her neck, squeezing hard, but not enough to cut off her air supply. Y/N let out a long filthy moan, my other hand snaking down to her clit. She let out a string of moans as she desperately gripped onto my forearms. “You gonna cum, baby? Huh? You gonna coat my cock in your juices?”

 "Yes!“

 "Yes, what?” I asked, thrusting faster. 

 "Yes sir!“ She screamed as clenched around me again, riding out her second orgasm.

She slumped down as I pulled out of her. I sat down on the bed and pulled her into my lap, bringing her lips to mine. I caressed her face as she slipped her tongue in my mouth, groaning as my hands traveled down her body to her clit. Her legs twitched as I began to rub slow circles on her sensitive nub and she whimpered into my mouth, grabbing onto my shoulders for support. “You’re so sensitive, Bear. And your pussy is dripping.” I teased in as I began to kiss her neck, sucking on the skin and claiming her as mine.

“You didn’t cum.” She stated, reaching down to stroke my throbbing dick. I groaned at the contact and pulled her hand away, placing a quick kiss to her lips before turning her in my lap, her back against my chest. I began to tease her clit with my tip, my smirk getting bigger every time I saw her thigh twitch. 

I slowly eased into her and the warmth of her walls surrounding me was almost enough to make me cum on the spot, but I restrained myself. I started slow, loving the feeling of her grinding back against me as she laid her head on my shoulder. Both of my hands found their way to her breast, pinching at her nipples as my pace got faster. She whimpered as she tried to close her legs around me but I held her thighs open as I sped up, listening to my skin slapping against hers and her strangled cries of pleasure. 

I groaned as I angled my hips a little and felt her clench hard around me. I pulled one of my hands away from her breast and trailed it down her stomach, her skin hot and sweaty. I rubbed hard circles on her clit, feeling her walls clench around me in a somewhat frenzy, her release so close. 

“Shit! Stuart, I’m- Fuck!” She screamed, as I rubbed faster and my hips snapped into hers rapidly. I leaned up and bit her earlobe. “C’mon baby. Let it all out. Squirt all over my cock.” I grunted as her walls convulsed and she came, chanting my name like a prayer as her juices sprayed onto the bed sheets. I groaned loudly, helping her ride out her orgasm, before pulling out of her. I made her kneel in front of me, grabbing a fistful of her hair with one hand and pumping my cock vigorously with the other. 

I watched as she stared up at me with glazed over (e/c) eyes and her tongue darted out to give a quick lick to my tip. My moans bounced off the walls, as I finally released, my cum shooting onto her flushed cheeks and into her open mouth, some of it getting on her chin and dripping down onto her chest.

I slumped onto the bed, watching as she swallowed what landed in her mouth before looking over at me and teasingly swiping her thumb over her nipple, gathering more before bringing it up to her mouth. She then smiled that cute little innocent smile at me and I huffed, pushing myself up to grab a washcloth from the bathroom. “You are literally going to be the death of me.” I mumbled as I carefully wiped her clean. 

She pouted as I wiped her cheek, leaning up to kiss my nose. “How is it that you could be covered in cum and still look so innocent? I feel like I may have violated you or something.” I said, kissing her cheek after she was clean. She giggled as I pulled her to lay on top of me, wrapping the blankets around us. “I look innocent on the outside but I have the mind of a professional porn star.” She stated, causing me to laugh. 

It was silent for a moment as we lay there, me stroking her hair and back gently. “You know, I never hated you, Bear. I just thought that you would never give me the time of day, and that kind of made me bitter.” She wrapped her arms tighter around me and placed a quick kiss to my lips. “It’s okay even though your thinking was completely irrational ” She smiled. I smiled back before thinking it over. “I’m gonna make it up to you.” I declared, earning a look of curiosity from her. “How?” She asked, sitting up so she was straddling me. I smirked as I grabbed her waist and pulled her body up until she was hovering over my face. “Stuart? W-what are you- Oh fuck!” She began to ask me, but cried out soon after when I licked a long stripe from her folds to her clit.

“For starters I think I’m gonna take my time appreciating this pretty little pussy of yours. Make you cum all over my face and then shove my tongue down your throat so you can taste yourself.” I stated attacking her cunt and attaching my lips to her clit sucking hard. She stuttered out curses as she rocked herself against my face shamelessly. I moved from her clit and shoved my tongue into her hole, groaning when she reached down and tugged on a fistful of my hair.

I began thrusting my tongue in her, looking up to see her gripping the headboard, her eyes closed and her mouth open in the perfect ‘O’ shape. I squeezed her ass and smacked it, right as I began to nibble on her clit and that was her undoing. The hand in my hair tightened as she held me still, rock against my face as her juices dripped into my mouth and onto my chin. I lapped up every thing she offered before gently pushing her off to lay her on her back.

I hovered over her as I saw the sweat glistening on her (s/c) skin. I dove in for a kiss, slipping my tongue in her mouth and she groaned as she tasted herself. I pulled away, looking at her with a smug grin. “So, I take it that you liked it?” Y/N gave me a look before shoving me onto my back, attacking my neck with kisses before she began moving down my chest and abs. She left hot open mouth kisses on my hips, before moving down to my already hard dick.

She grabbed me and licked a bold stripe from the base to the tip. I bit my lip as she smirked at me, giving a small kiss to the tip before sinking down on me, not stopping until I hit the back of her throat. I groaned loudly as I let my head fall back on the pillow, my hips twitching when I heard her gag a little. I lifted myself up on my elbows and watched as she slowly bobbed her head up and down. I cursed under my breath and swiped a few hairs out of her face. She looked up at me before flicking her tongue over my slit and I moaned out as I realized that I wasn’t going to last much longer. She pulled out of me, pumping my cock while pressing a kiss to the tip.

I definitely wasn’t going to last. 

She pulled me back into her mouth, pumping what she couldn’t fit into her hand. My undoing was when her other hand reached down and started massaging my balls. She swallowed everything after I finished and slowly crawled back up to me. I stared at her, trying to catch my breath feeling completely spent. A smug grin spread across her lips as she rested her chin in her hand.

“So, I take it that you liked it?” 

~~~

I stood, leaning against Y/N’s desk as I waited for her to arrive. We spent the weekend together, until I dropped her off at her place this morning so she could get changed. She told me that she would meet me here which gave me enough time to stop by the store and get her a gift  “Hey, sorry we couldn’t make it.” Billy and Nick came up to me and pat my shoulder. I shrugged, not really bothered by it anymore since my weekend ended up being fantastic. “What ya got there?” Billy asked, trying to see what was behind my back. “A surprise.” I responded and walked off, noticing Y/N walking in. 

She smiled when she saw me and pulled me into a hug. “Nice job covering up the hickey’s” I chuckled as she punched me in the shoulder. She gave me a playful glare as she shoved me a little. She noticed what was in my hand and I lifted it up to hand it to her. She smiled the brightest smile I’ve ever seen and I smiled back as she launched herself at me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck.

She pulled away and pressed her lips to mine, softly. We must have been a little too preoccupied because when we pulled away, the entire group was staring at us. 

“So - uh - What’s going on here?” Neha asked as I interlaced my fingers with Y/N. I looked down at her and smiled. 

“A gift to apologize for my irrational behavior.” 

[sarahinzhuhai-blog]

Week 2: I can't think of a title

Friends, family, strangers, what’s poppin? Week 2 in 中国 has come to a close and it was a wild one. This blogging on Sunday thing is really great for my procrastination-loving heart, and really bad for actually remembering things, so bear with me. You might notice this is getting posted on Friday, and not Sunday. Well, that’s because of some ~~fun~~ circumstances that you can find out about in next weeks post! Sorry! // 周一（zhōuyī，Monday): Monday started off without a dictation, because 车老师 is a wonderful person who doesn’t believe in weekend homework. Class was, as usual, an information overload, but still fun. We played a new game in class (where people have a verb or noun on their head and you have to ask questions, etc to make them say the word or do the action). Another thing: in Chinese, there is a particle, “了”， that has always confused me (it has many different uses, and I’m not sure when to use it and when not to). So I decided to ask my 语伴. This turned into a conversation with 车老师, the TAs, other 语伴s and on Tuesday, another professor. The question asking went an extra half hour into lunch and then I ended up eating with 车老师， one of the TAs and my 语伴。 I didn’t leave my question asking behind in America, I guess. I was very tired all day because I was up so late blogging the night before 👀…oops. At the end of the day, instead of meeting with our 语伴s (yǔbàn，language partner) for 30 minutes, we met for community service. The project they have selected for us to do this year is to help raise awareness about and reduce plastic bag usage and waste, which is a huge problem in China. To give you some context, Zhuhai is considered one of the cleanest cities in China, but the beaches are riddled with trash. It’s shocking. The plan for our projects was, on Monday we would write a survey and have our 语伴s help us translate it, on Tuesday we would go out and survey people on campus, on Thursday we would plan out our "propaganda” campaign and later in the month we would go out and talk with the public and get people to pledge to change their actions (with the pledge varying with each groups different approach to the issue). My group is me, Richa, Zack and Garrett. Monday was pretty rough. I was really tired and irritable, and I felt like a lot of responsibility was falling on me but I felt that way because I wasn’t sharing responsibilities….anyways, Richa and I talked afterwards so we’re all good now. We finished using the questions and I took the bus home with Matthew after hitting up the supermarket with Matthew and Anthony. // My sister had four of her finals today, and she said they went well, so I went out to dinner to celebrate with my mom and sister. It was so, so good. Pork, goose, noodles, vegetables, fried rice, watermelon, guava...all delicious! It was my first time trying goose, and I have mixed but mostly positive feelings. // Afterwards, we went to 笑笑’s friends house. I got to meet the friend, her little 9mo brother, the mom, dad, and grandparents. I held the brother (who was SO CUTE and very fascinated by me), talked a little bit with the family, helped the mom translate a work email, got a tour of the house, ate lychees and gave my little sister and her friend a ballet lesson. It was so much fun, and definitely lifted my mood from earlier in the day. I walked home in high spirits. // 周二（zhōuèr，Tuesday): Tuesday was the 4th of July! I told my mom in the morning and she offered me a white rabbit candy, which I thought was pretty funny but thoughtful at the same time. Got the 了question figured out at the beginning of lunch (I’m so grateful that literally everyone involved in the program is so willing to help). After lunch, we played a version of Monday’s game with all verbs (it was sort of a mess, a lot of English was spoken, but we had a good time). Chris, BBC and Queen Isabel joined us for that–-in the end, it boiled down to people forcing Shayley to take a selfie with them. I was eliminated early in the game when I flashed a peace sign. // Community service was very interesting. It started off with Grace and Emily getting us all watermelon to celebrate the 4th, which was very thoughtful! Since we are still in the thick of monsoon season, the weather continues to alternate between rain so hard it could flash flood up to your ankles (this happened to my 语伴）and hours of sunshine. Consequently, we decided to survey people who were inside major buildings on campus rather than walking around. My group picked the library. Since only half of the 语伴s came to help with the day's activities, Outing and Chris had to help another group, so learned how to say “traitor" in order to tell Outing how betrayed I felt. // Surveying people was fun, but a challenge…we split our group in half, so Garrett, me and my 语伴 formed one team. We interviewed about 8 people (could have been 9 if the police officer had agreed), and unless we were asking the simpler questions, I couldn’t understand a lot of what they were saying…but I got the gist, and the gist was that most of them were aware of the problem and did some things to cut down on their waste (some more than others…one guy was just totally unaware), but often didn’t have convenient access to recycling services. This is definitely a problem I have run across these few weeks. That being said, we don’t have the means to change city infrastructure, so my group decided that our focus would be encouraging people to use reusable bags and bottles, cutting down the waste at the source (it’s common for people to use 1-2 plastic bottles a day here). // After community service concluded, we were originally planning on going to a Starbucks by the beach and seeing the lovers post office (a famous site here), but the rain cancelled those plans so we settled on KTV instead. Unfortunately, the canteen KTV was closed, so Chris took us to a KTV in the middle of nowhere (aka Huitong, I think) near the edge of campus. On our way there, Alec and Anthony blasted music out of the speaker they bought at Gongbei. The most memorable moment of the walk was dancing to YMCA on the median (and everywhere else tbh we listened to the song like 20 times) and getting filmed by a police officer who thought it was funny. Also practicing my angry Chinese and making a guy who walked by laugh. KTV was really fun--we sang lots of American songs (we belted out Party in the USA more than once) and had a blast even though the program didn’t appear to have any song from after 2010. There was no Lana del Rey, so BBC and I sang Adele instead. While I did enjoy myself, my fun was sort of ruined by the fact that I was in the middle of having what I would describe as not-quite-an-anxiety-attack-but-getting-there because of a dog that we passed that was in really, really bad shape. I won’t go into the details again but I’m constantly frustrated here by the low standard for animal care and the lack of humane societies, etc…I understand that it’s not a priority at the moment but that doesn’t make it any less saddening, frustrating, etc. Queen Isabel and several of my friends (shoutout to Grace, Lexi, Josh, Alec and BBC...y'all are the best) helped me through it and I still managed to enjoy the evening. I had a few McDonalds fries (which was concerning because I had told my parents I was going to eat a full dinner), and Chris helped me and Alec call a cab to get home. // Once I arrived home, my mom brought out some mussels (? Some sort of shell thing) and told me that I had to eat it right now or it would go bad. So we had mussels, apples, bread and milk. A very confusing dinner but very good nonetheless. My sister asked me if I wanted to watch a certain TV show and at first I didn’t know what she was talking about, but then I realized it’s actually a show I watch online in the States and got h y p e d // In the middle of the show, my mom yelled really loud and then my sister started yelling too. At first, I was really confused but I soon found out that my sister was one of three in four hundred to get 100% on her exams. Then I started yelling too. I understood a few things my dad said for the first time (which surprised BOTH of us) and generally had a good evening. My dad told me I should call my actual mom and dad every day, so I called my actual parents before bed and ended up staying up super late again. Oops (are you seeing a pattern here?). Anyways, it was a roller coaster of an evening but everything turned out alright! // 周三（zhōusān, Wednesday): Classes were alright as usual. We’ve started “learning” song lyrics during the after lunch class. Oh yeah, one thing I forgot to mention is that I found out two of the TAs (one of whom I was very intimidated by before) are big kpop fans! They played a song on Tuesday on the projector (车老师 commented that the only kpop group she knew was BIGBANG), which was already a bop, but on Wednesday I found out that Ruby and I are both major BTS fans (specifically, I described them as my favorite group on the planet and she agreed). I did one of the dances I learned for her (she filmed it 😂) and she then immediately added me on multiple social media platforms. You can make fun of me all you want, but Kpop has been the common interest that allowed me to bond with many people here (we’re talking 30-50% of all the Chinese people I have made friendships with). Anyways, after having a fun time in class (we also did calligraphy practice today), we headed to culture class. This week we learned 空竹（kōngzhú， aka Diabolo aka Chinese Yoyo). The class was the most fun after I accepted that I was going to do terribly and focused on having a good time and getting a solid grasp on the basics. My group was Garrett, Sydney, Abigale and Outing as our 语伴（so I stopped calling him traitor). By the end of class, I was definitely still in the bottom 3 but I could do several tricks. After class, Alec, Maya, Garrett and I went to McDonalds at the transfer station (which is waaayyy better than McDonalds in America) and got green tea soft serve. It was really good (especially knowing that, just like on America, McDs ice cream machine se are perpetually broken here), but Garrett said he would never order another matcha flavored thing in his life. Afterwards, we took the bus home together...Maya took the wrong bus. // Feeling content, I got home to an empty house. My mom came home briefly, and imagine my surprise when she pulled out two pieces of apple pie and offered me one. Oops, not a good day to have a gigantic ice cream after school (and a small one at lunch). So I had the pie, then she made dinner (I’m confused about the order too…) and left again. // I decided to give my friend 朱明亮 a call and we talked for the better part of an hour. It was so nice to actually be able to speak and understand Chinese…maybe it’s the accent in Guangdong or maybe I’m just bad at Chinese but I never know what people are saying and it’s incredibly frustrating (I especially can’t understand guys..maybe because of the lower register). While we talked, I practiced my left hand chopstick skills...we don't need to talk about how that went. After the conversation, I practiced piano for Saturday (more details on that in a sec), did my homework (sort of) and went to bed. // 周四（Zhōusì, Thursday): Thursday’s classes were hard. We covered a LOT of grammar points and it was a lot to take in. This whole week was a lot to take in in terms of course material…this class moves almost 3x the pace of my normal class at school. Since this weekend's cultural excursion would be a visit to Guangzhou, the TAs gave us a class on the history of Guangzhou and some cool places to visit there. Then they presented the stamp winners for the week. This week, stamps were kept in a public place, so I got a little more competitive. My efforts paid off, however, because I got that #1. // After class, it was time for community service again. My group wrote our campaign, Chris helped us create a slogan and we designed t-shirts. Since our group wasn’t focused the whole time and we talked a lot about what we were doing, we haven’t actually translated the elevator pitch to Chinese but that’s okay. Also, I definitely didn’t write the wrong character in the slogan on the back of the shirt...I don’t know what you’re talking about. Zack got w o k e about plastic pollution in China and our final slogan is: “笑笑改变，大有不同 - Cleaner Zhuhai, Brand New City” (Translation: “A small change can make a big difference"which is already apparently a phrase charged with environmental connotations according to Chris, so that’s good). After community service, Maya and I definitely didn’t go do ballet in a studio on campus. Nope. I definitely wasn’t instructed to keep that on the DL (which is equally fun to say in Chinese, as it turns out). Other things that definitely did not happen: 1) being super out of shape and barely being able to do a grande plié 2) Having a really awkward conversation when two university students who were actually supposed to be there came in to use the room. After not-dancing, Maya took the wrong bus so she could ride with me, and I headed home to practice piano, pack up for Guangzhou, and otherwise prepare. // 周五（zhōuwǔ，Friday）: On Friday morning, we met up at the hotel and took the bus to Guangzhou. I tried to sleep a bit on the way there, but the scenery outside was really cool (SO different from the US omg) and the kids sitting in the back of the bus were blasting music (YMCA made a comeback), but the music was good so I can’t complain. My favorite was when they played "Empire State of Mind” but sang “Guangzhou” every time Alicia Keys said New York. Our first stop was the American Consulate in Guangzhou. After getting through security, we entered the building and I immediately felt like I was in America again. Maybe it was the super strong AC. Maybe it was the bathrooms (which not only had the first western toilets I had seen in two weeks but TP, soap and paper towels. I literally did a celebratory dance. There were several witnesses). Maybe it was the diplomat who spoke with us’ southern accent. Or maybe it was the fact that technically we had returned to America (apparently the consulate is considered American territory? According to Anthony). Anyways, after speaking with a Foreign Service Officer about his job, the role of the US embassies in China and of the Guangzhou consulate in particular, we bid our farewells. Leaving the consulate and returning to daily life in China was a weird and unexpected shock to my system. I don’t know what happened inside that consulate but it was like a weird mindset shift. Anyways, soon enough I was back to normal. Our next stop was a restaurant called Panxi. This was, no exaggeration, the most amazing restaurant I’ve been to in my entire life. Not because of the food (although the food was good), but because of the building itself. We entered into a courtyard where there was a waterfall (not a baby one but like 14+ feet) flowing into a koi pond, lanterns hanging from the wooden roof over the walkways, and several pathways leading to different rooms where we could eat. Our room was not only overlooking a pond, but appeared to be over the pond. It was absolutely gorgeous, and I had a great time chatting with friends as we watched the monsoon rain pelt the surface of the water. We also watched construction take place on the building, and construction is terrifying here. They use bamboo scaffolding, and it seems really unsteady and no one uses harnesses, even if three stories high. I have seen this in both Zhuhai and Guangzhou and it is very impressive but very nervewracking. // After lunch, we went to two museums–the Thirteen Hongs museum and the Liwan museum. The former was a museum that talked about the history of the Thirteen Hongs, which were a group of businessmen/companies that were the only ones licensed to do business with foreign countries during the Qing dynasty (the last dynasty before the Republic of China). They did their trading out of Guangzhou, and the museum was full of items that were traded,old maps, information, paintings, everything you can imagine. Guangzhou has a history of combining East and West (because of the Thirteen Hongs situation, I think), and this manifested itself in very interesting ways. One of the most interesting things I saw at the museum (although everything was absolutely stunning; the intricacy and care that went into every product was overwhelming) was a shell carving that had been done by a Chinese artist of the Last Supper and other Biblical scenes. Guangzhou also has a much higher foreigner population than Zhuhai (I saw more there in two days than in my entire time in Zhuhai). The second museum, called the Liwan museum, was a replica of a typical Xiguan house, which were a group of people that often did business with/interacted with foreigners. As such, several architectural elements included Western components. That being said, a lot of the house was built with traditional Chinese beliefs (and some specific to Guangdong/Guangzhou, e.g. Things related to how words sound in Cantonese), which was very interesting. Afterwards, we were given time to explore this very pretty little area of town. Richa and I paired off and saw a shrine, traditional opera, passed by a beautiful lake (which had some boats underwater that were clearly there on purpose but for no apparent reason), several vendors, and met some people who were very excited to say Hello to us. We also might have gotten followed briefly but 没关系。We were supposed to get dinner on our own, but we didn’t realize where we were supposed to go (up this one road) so we quickly walked over there, got 包子 and milk tea (I was very proud of us for successfully ordering both in Chinese and surviving when the 包子store owner tried to hold a conversation with us…I have a feeling neither of us were understanding each other but that’s pretty standard for my conversations here so I’m not worried about it). After, we rode the bus to a ferry stop by the Pearl River and were given time to walk around. Grace, Maya and I walked together. The experience started off by me getting yelled at at full volume by a old guy on a bike with some baskets because I didn’t realize I was in his way. Some bystanders found this hilarious, I did not. After our walk up and down the river, we ran to make it back on time and got on the ferry. The ferry was ~awesome~. We got to see the lights of the city at night (and on the water), and got to go up close to the Guangzhou tower (which is the seventh tallest building in the world, apparently). It was absolutely gorgeous (I’m not doing it justice with my words here). Also, after helping these people take a picture, they asked to take a picture with me which is the first time I’ve been asked for a picture in China (yay?). I also got to talk to Grace a lot which was really nice, she is very similar to me and I enjoy her company. After the ferry, we headed to the hotel. For this trip, I roomed with Tully. Before room checks, after a failed attempt to go to the roof, we all met up in Garrett’s room. Matthew was spooked because the room across (next to?) his and Josh’s was room 444 (which is, like, the worst and most unlucky number possible here…I’m actually surprised the hotel has one) and then their lights went out, so he was doing martial arts. It was very intimidating. Josh, Maya, Anthony and I then spent the hour stretching (or in Josh’s case, struggling and suffering) and goofing around. The stretching was prompted by Katie showing all of us that she is RIDICULOUSLY flexible (after which I encouraged her to take up ballet), which made Garrett look physically pained just from watching. After curfew, Tully and I talked, which was mice because I don’t see her or talk to her a lot, and we went to sleep without showering because the room was kinda gross. // 周六（zhōuliù，Saturday): Saturday was just as wild as Friday, if not more so (which I didn’t think was possible). The first order of business was breakfast. Fully, David, Abigale, Shayley, Maya, Reyna, maybe Zack (sorry I forgot) and I went to a local shop to eat 肠粉 (chángfěn），a Guangdong specialty. It’s a dish that they make by pouring out rice batter (that’s definitely the wrong word) in a thin layer on a sheet, adding veggies and/or egg and/or meat and then cooking it (I think they steamed it). Then they roll it all up and cover it with a sauce. I had the veggie one and some chocolate bean milk thing (as far as I know) and it was very delicious. Then we were off to a local elementary school. They gave us an orchestra performance using traditional Chinese instruments and these kids were crazy good. They were between ages 7 and 11 and they had been selected to join this orchestra. Saturday was their first day of break but they all seemed happy to be there. After a few traditional songs, they let us go up to kids and have them teach us how to play. I tried out the guzheng (which was super cool), the erhu (which I was terrible at but had fun with) and another instrument whose name I forget right now (you use hammers to hit strings and I was very very confused and bad at it). Most of the kids I talked to were practicing an hour or more a day, and were very very good. One kid who stood out was a guy who could play both the hammer+strong instrument and a Chinese drum. When they went around and introduced all the instruments to us, kids did solos on each instrument and he did the drum-it was stunning. He played so quickly and precisely!!! Then, it was time for us to perform for them. I played the Rachmaninoff Prelude (a shortened version), but I sort of botched the performance and I’m not sure why. Then we all sang the chorus of “对不起” (the song about our Chinese being bad) and the kids played more traditional music and a western classical song adapted to their orchestra (which was really cool). After, I was feeling kind of crappy about my performance when we went down to the bottom level and goofed around on the playground before taking some pictures with the kids and heading out. Imagine my surprise when one kid asked for my autograph, and then suddenly a group of kids all wanted me to sign things and give them my WeChat username. That was quite literally my 15 minutes of fame! // After heading out, we spent a few minutes in a square nearby (some of my new elementary school friends were there) and then headed to lunch. Lunch was not as good, which was probably not helped by the fact that there were several older guys smoking inside. This is one of the things I’ve had a lot of trouble getting used to here–there are a LOT of smokers here, and while I often see signs inside that say no smoking, I also have gotten used to seeing ashtrays inside those very same rooms. The toilet experience there was….unpleasant, and then we were off to a tea house. // As we got off the bus and began to walk to the tea house, rain was POURING. I was wearing my rap jacket (I forgot my umbrella at school, oops) and by the time we entered the tea house, my entire lower half was drenched. I spent the first few minutes awkwardly wringing out my dress and using tissues to attempt to dry myself off. // This teahouse was very different from the one my mom took me to; rather than one table, it had three stories, multiple side rooms, and many many many different kinds of tea (for a significant price). One of the coolest things was getting to talk to the owner about his company (he also owns a tea bank and apparently a mountain? I heard he rents the mountain? Not super clear), getting to see this big wood fourpostbed-looking thing that people would drink tea at from the Qing dynasty, and getting to have a conversation (entirely in Chinese) with one of the ladies about the different tools used at the table. The latter was a bit stressful because I couldn’t understand a lot, but I had to help my friends. We got the gist of what was going on, so all was well. Afterwards, we headed down for the tea ceremony. I have always thought of drinking tea as a quiet affair, but there were three guys there who were really loud and an absolute RIOT. One of them really hit it off with Alec and Isabel, and I will cherish the memory of them all loudly yelling 干杯(gānbēi，cheers, coincidentally one of this weeks vocabulary words) and making everyone on our half of the gigantic wooden table toast (and then them taking selfies together), which I’m pretty sure isn’t traditional tea protocol 😂 After tea, they gave us each a bag that had information and a teacup in it (!), which was super generous, and we were swept back onto the bus. // A few hours later, we were back in Zhuhai. Everyday Zhuhai feels more and more like home, so I am getting more and more sad at the thought of having to say goodbye. But returning to Zhuhai didn’t mean my excitement was over for the day. My sister had a piano recital, and I was in charge of getting myself there. My mom had sent me directions for which bus stops to take, and the first ride went perfectly. But then, there were no busses coming any time soon to my intermediate stop, so I had a problem. My mom told me to take a taxi, and if I couldn’t figure it out, to ask someone at the station to help me. No one was at the station. Now, in case you were wondering, here’s a list of things I have never done: 1) Taken a taxi by myself 2) Completed a taxi transaction in an unfamiliar place in the middle of China 3) Completed a taxi transaction in Chinese. Well, I’m proud to say that I managed to do all 3, and I even had a conversation with the driver about how long he had been driving, how long he had been in Zhuhai, how long I had been in China, etc. He helped me find my building, and my journey was complete! My mom was very proud/impressed/surprised that I had successfully navigated (I was a little concerned at how surprised she was), and I was greeted with a good old fashioned fast food dinner of French fries, a chicken sandwich and soda. That was a little bit of a shock to my system (the first "American” meal I’d had since I arrived) but a welcome taste from home. After, we headed upstairs to watch the recital. //The recital was my little sister and a bunch of high school students, and some of these kids were really good. One girl was 15 and played 4 songs, including a full sonata and the Revolutionary Etude. I was floored by her talent. At the end of the show, I ended up befriending her and a few other students. I’m excited to have some friends that are around my age! I goofed around on one of the pianos outside during intermission (aka poorly played Rachmaninoff and Chopin) and some people started filming me…not because it was really good, just because I’m a 外国人 . I don’t mind, it’s just a little odd when people take pictures of you/film you without ever talking to you or asking permission. // 周日（zhōurì，Sunday): After the excitement of the past few days, Sunday was a welcome rest. I woke up a little later than usual and my family and I went out to 早茶(zǎochá）, which translates to morning tea but is actually like lots of small dishes that you can eat for breakfast or lunch or in our case, brunch. We had 早茶 in this really cool restaurant where the top floors were hotel rooms and the bottom floors were like hotel rooms but for eating. Each party gets its own room with a table and very nice bathroom. The bathrooms had western toilets, toilet paper AND soap so the restaurant definitely got my stamp of approval. Okay, back to the food. We had everything from red bean buns shaped like pigs (which were SO CUTE) to squares of what looked like super fancy layered jello (I would say the flavor but I have no idea what the flavor was). It was very delicious but my stomach got a little overwhelmed by how many sweet and oily things there were. When I declined sugar in my warm milk drink, my mom declined it for me first and told my dad (in Chinese) that I was afraid of getting fat and so I wouldn’t want any. I retorted that I was not in fact afraid of getting fat and that I just didn’t want sugar in my drink. I think she thinks this because I don’t eat a lot, but I DO eat a lot (I was literally never hungry the first week because I am constantly being fed or having more food put on my plate). Confusing remarks aside, I had a really nice meal and this was the first time our whole family sat down at the same table to eat together, so I enjoyed the morning. Then, my dad, sister and I took the train that goes alongside the road home, which was very nice and a fun new experience. // After getting home, my sister and I both worked on homework. She asked me to help her translate the English text she was reading into Chinese, but my Chinese wasn’t good enough so I was pretty useless there. Her homework and mine made me so tired I fell asleep (that’s my homework strategy in America too…I’m a consistent student). After I woke up, Maya and I decided to meet up to hang out in TangJia. I took the bus over and had a really nice time walking in the park and goofing around on all the exercise equipment with her (despite the weird looks we got from some police officers). It was also nice to have a long, peaceful conversation with a friend after such a whirlwind of a week. I came home for dinner, watched TV with the fam, and started writing this blog post!// Okay this last part is going to be a little TMI, so if that’s not your thing, catch you next week. For you brave souls, I have a few more comments to make. 1) Being a girl and dealing with all the bodily functions that come as a result of that is Not A Fun Time in China. It’s annoying and inconvenient and has made me like squat pots less. 2) Having some stomach emergencies during your sisters piano recitals intermission and then running out of tissues in the land of no-TP-in-public-restrooms is an experience you won’t and can’t forget. // Okay, that’s it for this week! ✌️️

[letstalklifeee]

Monday Morning Sun Care - the Urban Decay Naked Skin Beauty Balm

Hiii everyone and happy (ish) Monday! Hopefully you’re fighting off those post-weekend blues with a vengeance this morning like the bad-ass bitches you are, but just in case you’re not, here’s a piece-o-literature for you to procrastinate with! It’s gonna be a lengthy one, so grab a coffee.

Last week I decided I was going to start a sun care series here on Let’s Talk Skin...

(I haven’t figured all the details out yet as to where these will be posted/if I’m going to group them all together, but bear with me cuz I’m doing this on the ~fly~)

I went ahead and made a list of the sun care products I’ve used/I am using and thoroughly researched their ingredients to see if I’m actually getting adequate sun protection from them. Turns out there’s a lot the average consumer doesn’t know about sun care (It’s not just about SPF people!) and I learned some -unfortunately- shocking stuff along the way. I think it might be time to invest in some new sun care products... ):

Anyway, I’m going to put these posts out product-by-product so they aren’t as long as the line at the bathroom on Friday nights at the Bungalow in Santa Monica... First up? The Urban Decay Naked Skin Beauty Balm (note: discontinued as far as I know, though it seems you can still purchase it. I think Urban Decay just stopped producing it.)

The active sunscreen ingredients in this product are Octinoxate (7.5%) and Zinc Oxide (3.4%). The inclusion of Zinc Oxide in this product allows it to be classified as ~broad spectrum~ which basically means that you’re getting protection from all forms of UV radiation. Back in the day, only UVA rays made it through our atmosphere, so many sunscreens were only formulated to contain ingredients that protected against UVA rays. Nowadays, UVB radiation makes its way down to us as well, and we’ve had to develop sunscreens that protect against both UVA and UVB rays.

Octinoxate is a **chemical** sunscreen. Don’t be afraid of the word “chemical,” though, in this sense it just means that the ingredient absorbs UV radiation, rather than blocking it. It’s a kind of sun-ray neutralizer if you will. Octinoxate only protects against UVB rays, though, so if this is the only sun protection ingredient in your sunscreen or moisturizer, it’s not going to get the job done because UVA rays are still getting through to your precious, beautiful, unicorn skin!

Zinc Oxide, on the other hand, is a “physical” sunscreen ingredient, which means that it blocks the UV radiation from even getting into your skin in the first place. Zinc Oxide is a “broad spectrum” sun protectant, which means, again, that it protects against UVA AND UVB rays. Sounds great, right? Usually, it is.

Unfortunately, in the Urban Decay Naked Skin BB, the percentage of Zinc Oxide is WAY too low for it to be truly effective in blocking broad spectrum UV radiation. In typical sunscreens, for example, Zinc Oxide might come in 25-30% concentrations, while BB’s or tinted moisturizers might have 10-15%. 3.4% is really WAY way way way too low for your skin to be truly protected, and as a result, the “broad spectrum” claim on this BB cream is pretty much null and void ):

Imagine my distress upon realizing this. I had bought BACKSTOCK of this now discontinued product (they were selling it for $8 a bottle at Nordstrom Rack!!), and now I have a ton left over... What’s a beauty product hoarder to do? Well, turns out, it’s a pretty great additive to mix into my foundation! I’ll even use it to sort of prime my face sometimes! For the work week, I use this + a few drops of the NYX Total Control Drop Foundation and it’s the perfect “my skin but better” formulation!

So to conclude, if you’re using this product and you really really love it (which BTW I do so I totally don’t fault you for loving it), make sure you’re also using a broad spectrum SPF15+ sunscreen every day as well, since it’s not really giving you the protection it claims it does ):

Love you a million gazillion beauties!!!

xo. m.

[729renegades]

Leap Tomorrow…Today is all About The Plan

On a sunny morning in 1979, a bunch of 10-year-old boys got ready for a cross country race.

It was a big deal, this race – the start of school sports day. Okay, there was no prize as such, but honour was at stake!

They lined up, as their teacher set out the route. But too excited to listen, they talked among themselves. Chattering on about their sporting prowess and their chances of winning.

But 30 minutes later, their confidence turned to disbelief.

They were dumbfounded. Because no-one in their wildest dreams would have predicted the outcome…

See, the winner was a smallish boy who’d never come first in his life. Over any distance, he usually finished just ahead of the fat boys and the pale wheezy kid with the inhaler.

But never, ever first.

If someone had opened a book on the race, he was the 200-1 shot.

And yet, he did it. Stunned the whole field – breaking the finishing tape, with no-one else in sight.

How did he do it?

Well, not by running faster, that’s for sure! Technically, at least two dozen boys ran a better time that day.

No, this boy won for one simple reason:

Everyone else went the wrong way!

Be more like the other type: the one who looks before leaping

Their fate was sealed back at the starting line, when they were too busy talking to listen to the teacher.

Within a minute of setting off, they’d taken a wrong turn. The Alpha Male leading the pack, with the other boys following – just assuming that their leader knew where he was going!

Only the smallish boy thought to ignore the pack, and doggedly stuck to the designated route.

So, the faster boys were left stranded out in the open, looking for the finish line…while the unlikely hero plodded on and stole the glory.

Now, as you’ve probably guessed…

Yes, the boy in question was me.

I was no great shakes as an athlete. I could bowl a decent cricket ball, and hold a tennis racquet the right way up. But as a runner, I had no power at all.

I only won by staying on track.

But never mind me. For a moment, just imagine you’re one of those other boys.

You’ve given it your all. Run your hardest, till your lungs could burst. Pummelled your legs till they turned to jelly. But still pushed on, determined that you’ll sweep to victory…

…Only to find out, right at the end – it was a duff mission. Doomed to fail from the start.

As a 10-year-old, who thinks this stuff matters, you’d be devastated – right?

Hell, yeah.

And you know what?

This happens in marketing every single day

The masses won’t pay attention to detail, because they’re too distracted…too impatient…at the start. They just want to tear off and do it.

So they set off without a plan. Or with a flawed notion of where they’re headed, based on a few words they remember from the latest “Marketing Ninja”.

Then they follow each other blindly. All using the same half-baked tactics – and assuming there’s someone out in front who knows what the hell they’re doing.

Result: an epic fail. No matter how much promise or talent they show, it all goes south very quickly.

But you don’t have to go that way.

You could be more like the other type: the one who looks before leaping. Who quietly sets out with a clear route, and follows it.

I’m living proof – even a lesser talent succeeds with this approach!

Of course, this is not exciting. I’m urging you to be more tortoise than hare, and I know that’s deadly dull. Not as sexy as yelling “JFDI!” and charging right on in there.

But I’m sorry, it’s essential. If you want to break the finishing tape, there’s no other way.

That’s where my new book is coming from

It’s an antidote to the massively over-used phrase “JFDI”.

I’ve seen this coming. As a sales and marketing guy with a 20-year pedigree, I’ve seen the rise of “JFDI” from its early days.

It used to be a call to arms, to gee up procrastinators. Telling them to shake a leg and finally get started.

It was a pretty good thing. Back in those distant days.

But in the digital age, the self-styled gurus have claimed “JFDI” as their own. It’s come to mean, “Don’t think – just do”. As if there’s time for thinking later.

Nope – the time for thinking is now.

Unless you like the idea of strapping on a blindfold and hoping for a bullseye.

So here’s the deal…

I’m not suggesting for one second that you dedicate months – or even weeks – to the planning stage. Whether you’re starting a whole new venture, or a new campaign, you’ve got targets to meet and bills to pay…you’ve got to step up and take action.

But I am saying, there’s a balance: a happy medium, where you ask yourself a few vital questions…make a plan, write a brief…Before You JFDI.

Trust me, it’ll be time well spent.

For the last 13 years, I’ve worked solely as a copywriter and strategist. And I see people taking the wrong route every day.

It starts when they approach someone like me, asking – for example – “How much to write a sales letter?”

It might seem like a sensible question. But in truth, the decision to send a letter has come way too soon. They’ve jumped straight into a tactic, without considering strategy.

Meaning, they don’t know yet if a letter is their best option.

And it might not be. Think about it – with some digging, we could discover all sorts of issues. Like:

…For their chosen audience, an online campaign would be better.

…Or they’re right to use direct mail, but they’re targeting the wrong list.

…Or they’re making the wrong offer.

…Or they’re mailing at the wrong time.

…Or maybe there are underlying problems that need fixing first. It happens…

Example: a few years ago, a client hired me to write a letter that would generate leads for a call centre. But during the research phase, I unearthed a few gremlins:

Their call handling process was dreadful – so leads were getting lost in the system.

Their lead conversion was poor, because agents were working from a dud script.

Their follow-up was non-existent. If they didn’t close the deal on the phone, the prospect would never hear from them again.

Their sales tracking was weak. They didn’t know which marketing channels generated leads – so they couldn’t focus money and effort on the stuff that worked.

Plus, they had no testing process. No way to run one message against another, and declare a winner. So they’d never find the best possible versions of their letters and emails.

When I took this back to the client, we had to conclude that the whole sales funnel was broken…so it would have been crazy to refill it with expensive leads.

We needed to fix things first: work through the whole snag list before we’d deem it safe to invest in a new mailshot.

It delayed things, of course. But it was one step back to take two forward… a sensible move, you’d agree.

So – I’m asking you to do the same before you dive into a new project. To take some time at the start, to ask a few questions and make a few plans. And I hope my new book is going to help you through that process.

Of course, I don’t know you, and how much you know about this already – so you’ll have to forgive me if you feel I’m teaching you to suck eggs here and there!

That’s unavoidable, sorry, if we want to cover all bases.

So, the book starts with the much-debated question: what is marketing anyway? In this section, we quickly run through a dummy campaign to show you the thinking behind a decent strategy.

Then, we’ll work through the 7 major decisions you’ll need to make at the start: your target audience, your offer, your route to market, and more.

Then finally, we’ll turn it all into a watertight brief. We’ll go through a set of questions that will give your copywriter all the facts and emotional hooks they’re going to need.

Work through the whole thing, and you’ll have a sound basis for your next campaign.

If you like the sound of that, you can claim a free copy via the link below.

Then do your planning – make your decisions – before you start the race.

I promise, it’ll save you the misery of running at full pelt… only to realise you’ve been hurtling down the wrong track.

For a free copy of James’ new book Before You JFDI, go to www.jamesthecopywriter.co.uk.

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