#for anyone wondering the crowd was about a 50/50 split

[twobrokenwyngs]

yes I will admit publicly that tonight I went to go see an oasis tribute band. and you know what?

from now on, if youre not gonna method act, LARP, channel and otherwise embody the very spirit of the person you're paying tribute to, don't even bother. bc what I witnessed tonight... the bar cannot get any higher

anyway. overdramatic and overly-detailed accounting under the cut.

for the 30th anniversary of Definitely Maybe, this highly-regarded tribute band from Toronto called Supersonic, (who have not done any shows in some time,) decided to do a somewhat sporadic North American tour this year. their first stop? Chicago.

I was on the fence about going because, y'know, the idea of a tribute band is corny af but at the same time I knew it'd be amazing to hear oasis' music live, in a concert environment. not like I'm ever gonna get a stab at the real thing, right? in hindsight I can't believe I even considered not going to this.

before the show started, the two screens on the stage were flipping through a slideshow of band photos and promotional images for their 1994 singles. reminders of oasis in their heyday were ever-present throughout the whole show: whenever possible, these screens played oasis' music videos or live performance footage in tandem with the band, and for the rest of the songs they displayed lyric videos (for all those deep cuts and sleeper hits people might not have known the words to.)

we were there pretty early so they were still setting up. it was shockingly obvious who fake!Liam was - I mean, the man was walking around in a parka. note that he didn't even wear it during the show. this was just for him, I guess. or maybe it helped him get into character? METHOD. (idk the other guy in this picture. sorry, guy.)

anyway, the show itself was... amazing. they recreated Oasis' 1994 performance at the Metro in Chicago, doing the same set list, which included every song on the first album, plus I Am the Walrus, and the B-side Fade Away.

for the encore, they did D'you Know What I Mean?, Wonderwall, Don't Look Back in Anger, Champagne Supernova, and What's the Story (Morning Glory).

and yes, it was absolutely incredible to be washed in sound, tucked in a crowd who seemed to love all these songs as much as I do, to feel the music in your bones and to feed off the energy. and it was indeed such a dream to hear these songs live, as I thought it would be. BUT.

what really fucking sold it was the unbelievable authenticity, the specificity in their impression. these are people who have studied this band, who KNOW the lore, and who probably do some sort of cursed voodoo ritual before the show to bring the spirit of this band back from the dead because my god?

within moments of it starting, the tambourine was in fake!Liam's mouth. he was wearing THE striped sweater from their first tour that liam and noel famously shared back and forth. he maintained the stance, but did the little step away move, giving the tambourine a lil shimmy every time. during solos, he wandered and meandered around the stage. he took a seat. he stood at the front of the stage and stared the audience down from behind his sunglasses. he did the dumb little duckface. he balanced the tambourine on his head. he mumbled interjections into the mic and announced the titles before each song. he drank - in fact, the whole band drank on stage. and most importantly of all - his VOICE. it was uncanny. he sounded just like liam, with the same tone to his voice, the same whine, strong and clear. like, close your eyes and you could easily be fooled. for a couple hours, this man WAS liam gallagher. he was feeling the fantasy and so were we.

pictures don't really do it justice, lol. after all, they're Just Some Guys.

one pretty spectacular moment was when they played a clip from oasis' 2006 Lock the Box interview where noel explains how the line "so Sally can wait" came to be (incidentally it was liam's brain noise) and right after that, fake!Noel sang Don't Look Back in Anger. I cannot tell you, particularly as an american where this never happens, how powerful it was to be in a room full of oasis fans belting this song at the top of their lungs. every bro in the room absolutely ascended. it was a sea of booming voices. so fucking cool. (also! at the end of the song, fake!Noel and the other guitarist edged the crowd so hard on those closing “don’t look back in anger”s, plucking at their guitars and drawing out the moment as long as possible before giving the last lines to us. chef’s kiss.)

afterwards, I went to the "merch" table, such as it was lmao, where they had a single box full of t-shirts with only two sizes available, and I told them what I thought. that I was completely bought in to the fantasy; that I was blown away by the degree of detail. that it was obvious that they respect and love this band immensely, to which they nodded vehemently and offered their drinks up for a cheers. they told me they have put so much time into trying to get it right, and I told them it showed. I complimented fake!Liam's sweater and he was delighted that I noticed - it cost him over $100 lmao. they were such nice guys who seemed really grateful for the feedback. were it not for the short line behind me, I definitely would've chatted with them more, because they just... got it.

and that's what I was thinking about when I walked away. it just kinda hit me, all at once, as my adrenaline was simultaneously dropping. like... how much they cared? how much love and attention was poured into that show, because they care and they get it. I thought of that, and I thought about the passion of the crowd around me, and how even though it was just a teeny tiny infinitesimal taste of what the real thing would've been like, it still felt like magic because the love was there the whole time. anyway, reader, I cried a little bit, lmao. it's fine. it was a release.

my main regret was that my partners in this catastrophe couldn't be there with me. bal, trill. (and mimi! and sooj, too!) what I would've given to be able to look over at someone who I knew was catching everything I was, who was feeling it the way I was feeling it. but nevertheless, I befriended the couple who'd been singing their hearts out right next to me - they welcomed me with open arms. just this little community of people doing what they can to relive the blissful days of 90's britpop glory. together.

the best time to get into oasis would’ve been 1994. the second best time is right now

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

Since we’re all on the topic of James Lewis….. I was wondering if I could make a different request for him like maybe something smutty but James being a total sub ( I beg of u pls) just being pathetic and needy 🫡

When One Restaurant Door Closes - James Lewis/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, reader is a bit of a dom, self-deprecating talk, dirty talk, bit of voyeurism, masturbation, handjobs, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, eating out, sex.

Wordcount: 4640

Summary: Your handsome regular just failed his 10th date since he started visiting your place of work. That should be all the proof you need to agree with him when he then claims that he's unlovable, but there's something about him that makes you want to be his 11th despite it all.

Notes: Did someone say Pathetic Needy Sub? 😏 I hope this turned out close to what you wanted, I think this is the first time I wrote any of his characters as super subby and it nearly made me lose my mind /)w(\ 💗💗💗

Friday night shifts had a tendency to either yield good entertainment or bad guests and even worse tips. It was a 50/50 split for you since this place wasn't exactly Olive Garden, all the good guests preferring the big name chains and restaurants with five stars, of which you worked for neither. It was good money regardless, and the entertainment was worth its weight in gold since it seemed everyone wanted to air out their drama over the appetizers, and you'd prefer that to any unlimited breadsticks any day.

You knew it was going to be a good night when you saw him walk in, the handsome man with the glasses who brought all his dates here for you to witness, each one always ending in flames; it wasn't his fault, from your eavesdropping you'd learned that he was a recovering alcoholic with a bit of a temper, and even though being off the juice had given him back his control it didn't help that he tended to constantly say the wrong thing. He overshared more than anyone you'd ever met, his jokes were cute and funny but also tended to be self-deprecating, and when he got on a topic he was passionate about, sometimes for all the wrong reasons, he found it very hard to stop talking even when his dates looked uncomfortable. He was a trainwreck, but a beautiful one, and every time he came in with someone new it made you selfishly happy that he was still on the market.

These people he brought out, they didn't know how to handle someone like him, but you were sure that you could, your practice with your old bad partners giving you more than enough experience. He wasn't a bad guy, far from it, and you knew that now that he was recovering he'd never hurt you, but no one else seemed to get that or him as tonight's contestant, a pretty cute blonde with his long hair pulled into a ponytail to be a little fancy for the date, finally tossed in the towel and walked out. You watched as he hid his face in his hands, another one down, it was clear he couldn't keep handling the heartbreak for much longer.

‘Rough crowd tonight?’ you asked before you could stop yourself, your voice carrying from the bar to his table since his chosen section of the restaurant was emptier for the privacy of his date.

He looked up at you, eyes miserable as he briefly glanced behind you at the bottles decorating the wall. ‘Yeah, you could say that,’ he answered instead of asking for his favourite, and you felt a bit of pride at him pulling through despite the metaphorical flames currently surrounding him and the empty chair across from him.

‘At least he seemed to take it better than the one from last month, that one was a little firecracker, wasn't he?’ you joked in order to lighten the mood, and he grinned sadly at the memory of that failed date as well.

‘He didn't appreciate my comments about Detroit, I was only being a little critical,’ he confessed, and you leaned your elbows against the bar counter.

‘What did it this time?’

‘Too different views about family,’ he told you, and when you didn't hide your curiosity he turned even further in his chair to face you. ‘I guess growing up in a house like mine doesn't leave you much room for wanting to meet someone's parents… or sister, or hometown, or anything else. He wasn't raised like I was but you never know, one bad day and a little too much to drink and it all goes to hell.’ There was the oversharing again, his bad childhood a recurring topic for him, although this time he seemed to have a bit of clarity now that the date had already failed. ‘Sorry, I know not everyone wants to hear about that.’

‘It's fine, I've heard worse working here.’ He perked up at that, someone not flinching or cringing at his trauma for once actually lifting his mood. ‘In fact, why don't you move your plate over here, share a drink with me over it until you're all done?’

‘I don't drink,’ he was in the middle of saying before you filled up two glasses with water, his thoughts only on himself and not the obvious fact that you couldn't consume the inventory while on the clock. He smiled in relief and took your offer when you pushed his glass a little towards him, your entertainment for tonight now purely him as he set down his plate and started venting with a smile.

He didn't leave when he was done, eventually ordering a nonalcoholic beverage just so you'd have something to mix while you listened, and you noticed when you left him to bus some tables or run some orders that he never once looked back at the bottles in your absence. He stuck to sipping his drink or watching the TV mounted over the bar, and when you returned again he'd give you the biggest smile and start talking about something else no matter how personal. 

You found out this way that his name was James and that he used to be a teacher in another town, but he'd lost his tenure right before earning it and was unfairly fired after a bunch of unfortunate mishaps involving two of his students being bullied. He'd basically been bullied himself right out of town, the father of another of his students making sure he wouldn't be welcome after he'd tried to take matters into his own hands, and while the bullying had ended so had his career despite his good deeds.

It was a rather miserable end to that chapter of his life, but he'd needed a fresh start anyway, and moving here had been exactly what he'd needed in the end. He'd even gotten himself a new job a couple months in, and while he was doing great in that regard, it was finding himself a new partner that was giving him trouble still. 

‘Ever since the divorce I've been thinking that maybe I'm just not cut out for this, like she was my one chance and I blew it,’ he admitted as you mixed him another sweet drink, a plate of fries ordered and slowly nibbled away at thanks to the both of you. ‘I've been trying, first Arabella back home and then all these people here- you've seen them, you're always working when I bring my dates, it seems, and… I don't know, maybe I'm just unlovable.’ You weren't sure if he was leading you on just to boost his self-esteem or if he genuinely believed it, although you were starting to trust in the latter with his depressive record, and even if he was manipulating you to high hell you thought his attempt was cute after you'd just seen him crash and burn for the tenth time.

‘I think you just need to pick your dates better before you start down that road; tell you what, how about you meet me back here tomorrow, I get off early, and we can go to dinner somewhere I don't work?’ you suggested, and to your surprise he didn't flush and maybe decline a time or two as he actually met your eye and suggested something you didn't expect.

‘I'm free tonight, tomorrow is Saturday after all,’ was all he said, and you couldn't argue with that as you called it a date and went on with your shift.

True to his word he stuck around the entire time, just watching TV or sipping his drink, no phone coming out to help distract him as you finished your final hours. He didn't complain or even yawn, perhaps he was used to being up late with grading homework and all those other time-consuming teachery demands, so this was nothing to him, or maybe he was just that excited to hang out with you some more considering you hadn't thrown him away yet. Either way, when you finally clocked out he was ready to go, his back straight and smile nervous but wide as he followed you to the parking lot. After a quick discussion of him taking his own car after you, you led the way back to your apartment and brought him up without a care. You could hear his breathing quicken when you approached your door, your keys jangling together as you turned the correct one in the lock, and when you both stepped inside and you reached for the lights he actually stopped you.

‘Don't, I'm sorry, I should've been more clear,’ he began as he let you go, and you expected him to box you in, start kissing you with all the pent up desires of a man who probably hadn't been laid in years if your theories were correct, but he just surprised you again when he dropped to his knees and let his hands hover over your thighs without making contact. ‘Please, it's been so long, you're the only one who hasn't-’

He came to his senses then, realized he was a grown man on his knees in front of a perfect stranger, and he couldn't see in the dark how red your face had become, how wide and very interested your eyes now were as you stared down at him.

‘I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, all the sparkling water must've gone to my head,’ he tried to joke, desperately backtracking as his hands lowered and he made to stand. ‘You didn't bring me here for this, I should go-’

You didn't let him, your hand threading through his hair before you easily guided him to your crotch; he moaned at the warmth behind your pants, his mouth pressing open kisses to the material as he instantly folded, and even in the dim light of your hallway you could still see that his glasses were starting to fog when he looked up at you. ‘Be a gentleman and take off your shoes, I just vacuumed this afternoon,’ you tested him, and he didn't even get up as he took them off and went back to kneeling. ‘It's been a long day, if you really want to apologize to me then you can make it up to me in the living room,’ you suggested quietly, and he nodded before standing again, only this time when he towered over you you felt entirely in control, James only proving that as he walked further into your home and waited for you on the couch. 

You smiled at him, impressed because, despite his stories about going behind his boss' back and taking matters into his own hands in his old town, he was very good at following orders, or maybe he just was good at doing what he wanted to be told to do as he looked back to find you. You didn't keep him waiting, your things put away for the night before grabbing the seat next to him, and even though he looked like he wanted to touch you so badly that it was making him hurt, he still waited for you to give him his next order, tell him how to make it up. 

‘You looked good before, between my thighs like that, why don't you let me see it again in this better lighting while I think up a way for you to apologize to me.’ He did just so, no questions asked, the apartment quiet save for his loud breathing as you spread your legs and let him get comfortable. You both knew where this was heading, the way he licked his lips and sat ever so patiently for you only made your heart race more as you held his entire sex life in your hand. Depending on what your next move was you'd either be the first to touch him in what had to be a year and a half, or send him home with the very real end result of him getting himself off while imagining you.

Now there was an idea.

‘How much do you want it?’ you asked him then, his cheeks flushing in slight embarrassment like you didn't already know the answer. 

‘I need it, you don't know how hard it's been…’

‘When was the last time?’

He swallowed, looking away from you. ‘Back when I was still married, so over two years ago,’ he admitted, and you ran your fingers through his hair again as consolation. 

‘No hookups in all this time?’ He shook his head, leaning into your touch as he all but admitted that it was the first in years, and when you scraped your nails against his scalp and gave him a little tug he let out such a surprising sound it could only be pure, genuine want. ‘You waited so long for me, so good, you've done so well, James,’ you purred, encouraging him to tell you more, want you more, and it worked as he shifted even closer, rested his cheek against your thigh and kissed you again.

‘Thank you, I want it from you, you're the only one who sees me,’ he sighed against your leg, his hands coming up to hold and rub you as well, like if he tried hard enough you'd finally take pity on him and give him what he wanted, but you wanted him to earn it, you needed him to be yours.

‘You can have it, if you show me how much you want it, first,’ you told him, your voice just above a whisper, and when he looked up at you you could've sworn you felt his Adam's apple bob against your clothed skin he swallowed so hard. 

‘What do you want me to do?’ he asked, his voice also low, this wasn't how a recently re-respected teacher should act, and you sat back and gazed down at him while you undid your pants to give yourself a little more room to breathe with how heavy the air was getting.

‘Touch yourself.’

You knew he was yours the moment the words left your mouth and he didn't run, too blinded by his lust to do anything other than oblige your every whim it seemed as he reached for his belt out of sight. You heard the sound of his zipper just moments before he let out a sigh, his eyes closing tight as he started off slow, getting used to the idea that you actually wanted him here doing this before speeding up a little. You could only see the way his arm moved from this angle, everything else hidden from your sight, and you resisted the urge to lean forward because he was the one who was listening tonight, if he wanted you then he was going to do everything until he could have you.

‘Sit back, I can't see,’ you breathed, James cracking open an eye before letting go of you to lean backwards, and when that still didn't help he stopped for just a moment to move to your ottoman. His legs were equally spread as he reached back down his pants, too shy to take himself out as he went back to stroking himself for you, showing you exactly what he'd been doing the past two years without anyone else to touch him. He didn't hide any sounds from you, and you had to wonder if he was actually playing it up as he rested his chin against his chest and arched his back, his hand moving a little faster still out of your sight. It was good but it wasn't what you wanted, and you waited until his head lolled to the side before letting out a short whistle to get his attention. You patted your lap without a word, inviting him over, and when he straddled you he never once removed his hand, it still moving as he closed the distance between furniture.

‘Do you want me?’ you asked as he stroked himself a little faster, just being this close to you driving him wild. 

‘Yes…’ He moaned it into your ear, hunched over and letting his forehead fall against your shoulder; his hips began to move as he fucked his fist, you knew this wasn't enough, and you didn't ask permission before reaching down and sliding his neatly pressed pants down his hips. He choked out a gasp as he finally took himself out, his hand moving properly and so much better over his length, and you looked down and watched as your own need built. You could tell he was getting close by the way his panting was starting to break, he could barely keep it up and it showed in his movements, and when you kissed his neck and took him in hand he thanked you repeatedly before spilling over you. You rode him through it, draining him of every last drop as his reward, and when he sat up you saw that he'd actually cried as he came. 

‘So good, you were so good for me,’ you praised him, your hand still moving over him gently even as he whined from the overstimulation, ‘but we're not done yet, you still haven't apologized to me.’ You expected him to ask you for a moment to catch his breath, maybe even decline now that he'd gotten what he wanted, but he wasted no time in sliding off of you and getting ready to kneel again. Your hand on his tie made him stop, his eyes confused before you guided him back to the couch and got him to lay down, his chest heaving and dick hardening again over his stomach as you crawled up and over him. 

Your knees hit the arm of the couch as you braced yourself on the back, James breathing heavily before taking off his glasses, lining you up, and kissing you much more intimately this time. You rode his mouth, letting him eat you out as you touched yourself, his hands on your hips to help you keep your balance as you rolled them. Even out of practice he was good, telling you that despite being needy for your touch he was more a giver than a receiver, and he confirmed it when you bit back a moan and felt his hand leave you.

You glanced over your shoulder to see him jerking off so slowly it was obviously just to get himself fully hard again, or maybe he just liked the sounds of you using him to get off that much, either way you grinned and moaned again a little louder, just for him. He hummed against you, his eager tongue licking and probing and fucking into you until you felt your orgasm start to build, but when you went to get up so you could come in a much better way he actually let go of himself to hold you in place. ‘No…’ he murmured against you, needing to finish you off like this is what he wanted more than what you were planning, and you reached between your legs to grab him by the hair and pull him off.

‘Bad boy, don't get greedy,’ you warned him, your words making him squirm as he stared up at you from between your quivering thighs. ‘And here I thought you wanted me.’

‘I do, please, please don't stop,’ he begged, his hands finding purchase on you again as you felt him start to find pressure against his pants. 

‘I won't,’ you promised as you let go of him, easily moving his hands away before crawling down to his waist; you sat on his thighs and trapped his dick under you as you undressed him, wanting to see more of him but also wanting him to feel more of you at the same time. He tried to help, loosening his tie and taking it off before you grabbed it and slipped his hands through the hole, the knot holding firm against his wrists as he keened at the sight. He knew not to touch as you finished undoing every button, your hips occasionally swaying as you worked and making him groan as he resisted the urge to grind against you.

It was torture of the best kind to draw it out, your orgasm backed off as you bared his chest and started kissing everywhere you could reach just to hear more of those sounds, your teeth gently biting a nipple before his hands were clasped behind your neck. ‘I'm sorry, just a little more-’ he begged again, you were unaware of how close he'd become thanks to your teasing, and you lifted yourself to your hands and knees to ward it off again now that you knew; this time he whimpered at the loss, his dick twitching pitifully against his stomach as he steadily leaked precome onto himself, it all too much for him after such a long time. 

‘Show me how much you want it,’ you panted against his neck, James not knowing what to do until you lowered yourself onto him at long last, his head falling back with a broken whine. ‘Fuck me until I come, don't you dare stop until then.’

His hands remained behind your neck as he began to thrust, your left hand gripping the couch while the other splayed across his chest. You tried not to ride him, wanting him to do all the work and prove to you that he wanted you so desperately that he'd keep doing it until you were satisfied, but eventually you did give in, your hips crashing down on him as you met each thrust with equal desire. You doing that didn't let him last long, James coming inside you as he threw back his head and swore a string of curses about how good it felt, but even as he rested you didn't let him stop, the heat in your belly growing hotter as he looked up at you and licked his lips.

He needed only a moment while you bounced on his still hard cock, his libido holding strong as he pulled you to his chest, braced himself on the couch and floor, and fully fucked you in earnest. There it was, his desire, his greed, his lust as he pleaded into your shoulder for just one more, he needed this so badly that he couldn't take it, everything becoming almost addicting to you as you gave him everything he wanted. 

Eventually his pleas turned into an endless string of fucks, no other word left in his English teacher vocabulary as he dug his nails into your back in a desperate attempt to hold on, and when even that word became senseless babbling you finally came. You squeezed hard around him, bringing out his third shortly after as his energy gave out and made him collapse, one final, very hard thrust into you as you fell on top of him making your resulting cry out just as senseless as the words died in your throat. 

You could feel his come leaking down your thighs as you laid on top of him, the both of you taking all the time you needed to catch your breath, the afterglow of what was probably the best orgasm you'd had in years still lingering with each small shift until you decided it was time to get up. ‘No, don't,’ he was quick to say, his eyes half-lidded as he turned his head to look at you, ‘stay with me, please.’

Again you couldn't argue with that, getting comfortable against the back cushions so you wouldn't fall off, James still inside you as you found his glasses before they disappeared into the couch forever. ‘Sorry for getting a little rough, I don't know what got into me,’ you apologized as you pet his hair again, careful to massage the places you thought you'd hurt him, and he grinned as he stared blurrily up at the ceiling fan.

‘Probably the same thing that got into me,’ he agreed lightly, and when you both laughed you bounced slightly on his chest. ‘Thank you, for tonight. I know I'm not the most eligible bachelor in town, but… I'd like to see you again, if that's alright with you? Not just to… y'know, hookup or anything, despite all the failures I really am trying to meet someone.’

‘I know, no one would try that hard if they were just looking to get laid,’ you said as you attempted to stretch without letting him slide out of you. ‘But, I gotta know, why haven't you been able to land anyone yet? You've got your flaws, everyone in this town does, but somehow you seem to have all the bad luck when it comes to romance and I honestly don't get it.’

‘Well, to tell you the truth-’ He cut himself off, looking now towards the wall as he turned his head away from you.

‘Oh no, you can't start with that and then not finish,’ you teased him curiously, rolling your hips just long enough to get him to beg you to stop with a weak moan, a very real threat that he could very well go again.

‘To tell you the truth, I haven't been all that interested in my current dates,’ he confessed, your eyes shining with an even stronger curiosity since it always seemed like he was interested when he brought them in. ‘I actually… just wanted to go there because… that's where you work.’ Again he surprised you, your heart skipping a beat as he held you a little tighter. ‘I've liked you since the first time I walked in and saw you, but I've never been good at asking anyone out; I was only able to find those dates through co-workers and their friends, they all put in good words for me, I never did any of the actual asking. I guess that’s why they all failed, I might’ve been subconsciously sabotaging myself because they weren’t you.’

He looked embarrassed as he told you all of this, like you would reject him for having a crush on you despite the mindblowing sex, and you just chuckled and kissed his jaw until he finally looked at you. ‘I guess you did wait til I invited you back here, didn't you?’ you realized then, and when he looked hopeful you gave him a proper kiss; he sighed into your mouth before he remembered where his own had been, his eyes wide in the scandal of it all, but you just laughed and tried again until he had no choice but to kiss you back. ‘Has anyone told you recently how handsome you are? Because to tell you the truth I've been happy to see you every time you walk in,’ you confessed right back, his smile wide as you trailed your fingers from his cheek down to his chest. He shook his head, none of his dates liking him even that much, which you felt was an honest to God crime; oh well, their loss, he was yours now. ‘I have tomorrow off until noon, if you still wanna go out again for dinner tomorrow?’

‘Can I stay the night in the meantime?’ he asked softly, and you kissed him again before finally moving to stand, his still-bound hands raising up to allow you to this time.

‘Of course, the bed has more room to stretch out on, if you don't mind the risk of me cuddling you in the night?’ you warned, but something told you that that was exactly what he wanted as you both stood on shaky legs and made the long trek to your bedroom, his hand clasped in yours.

[absolutelyfizzing]

he promised

poe dameron x reader

description - Poe always promised he would come back from missions. One time he doesn't. (Ends in fluff i promise i promise)

warnings - depression?, anxiety?, fem pronouns, talk of injury and death, grief, fluff at the end, use of petnames, reader gets carried for a while and sits on a lap, mentions of eating and eating avoidance (not ed)

word count - 3800

A/N - so this was an oops. I wrote this hella fast but i was in the zone and i am pretty happy with the emotionally devastating product. I promise it has a happy ending i just dont want to give too much away. I feel like for maximum emotional damage you need to be a little in the dark. anyway, forgive me

MASTERLIST

You were stood in the command center with your hands wringing together. No matter how many missions Poe went on, the waiting was always hell. How were you supposed to remain sane when the love of your life was out fighting a battle that he might not come back from. That you might never see him again. He always reassured you that he would always come back to you. That you never had anything to worry about. You tried to believe him, and for the most part you did, but that didn't prevent you from being worried when he was gone.

You listened through the coms, trying to keep track of what was happening during the battle. Leia let you stay in there because she had a soft spot for you, as well as the pilot you were worried about. You were thankful she let you listen in on every mission, it meant that you weren't alone worrying in the room you shared with Poe. The conversation over coms was rushed and loud, they were scared and that made your heart beat faster.

'I have to go through, they're gonna come after us if I don't.' You heard your fiance yell. Worry stuck in the pit of your stomach, he was going to take a risk, you could feel it.

'Poe, it's not worth it. We should get out of here while we still can'. You agreed, wanting him to get out of there as soon as possible. You prayed he would listen and just get out.

'I have to try, I can't go back knowing that they could be following us to base.'

'Poe wait-' You heard someone rush out before comotion ensued again. You could feel your heart in your throat. You could have cried. After a minute of listening to pure chaos, nobody in the control room dared to speak a word. Everyone was waiting for an indication of what to do from the squadron. You found yourself zoning out in your worry. You were only broken out of your trance when you heard your fiance's name.

'Poe is down.' You stopped breathing.

"Down? What do you mean down?" You heard Leia call over comms.

'I'm sorry commander, he got hit. His X-Wing engine got shot and he was heading to crash on the planet right below us, his coms died. There's no way to know if he made it through but I don't know many who could take that crash and live. We have to head out and hope he comes back to base but I wouldn't get my hopes up.'

"Get out of there while you still can. We will have to worry about Poe when we gather our strength." Leia responded and the squadron called their understanding before the process of bringing them home began. You hadn't moved. You weren't sure if you had breathed. Your body was fully numb. You could feel eyes on you as everyone waited for you to respond. To show some emotion of your boyfriend having just gone MIA. You couldn't feel yourself though, your fingertips were numb, and you refused to believe he was dead. He promised. He told you he would come home.

Your brain was split between trying to grieve for the loss of the love of your life and trusting that he would be back. That he had to come back because he promised he would and he never breaks a promise. You felt hands on you and you realized you had fallen to sit in your spot. Leia was above you and was ushering you to your feet. You mindlessly let her push you somewhere and you barely even looked to see where you were going.

Eventually you showed up at your apartment door. You couldn't tell whether it felt like it had been instantaneous or an eternity to get there. Leia unlocked your door and pushed you inside and to the small couch that was stood in the living room-like space. The apartments were all very small, Poe had one a little bigger because he was housing with another person and because of his rank. Still, the extra amenities included a small couch, a smaller kitchen, and a window along the bedroom wall. When Leia sat you on the couch she kneeled in front of you. Her hand went to your cheek and you looked at her for the first time since you'd heard Poe go down. She seemed to almost be in tears but your eyes were dry. You didn't feel anything.

"Y/N, what can I do?" She asked gently. "Do you need anything?" You felt yourself shake your head and open your mouth like you were going to talk but closed it again as you thought.

"He said... He said he was coming back." You stated as if it changed the situation. "He promised." You mumbled.

"I know, Y/N. I am so sorry." She tried to console and your head shook. "We don't know what happened after he went down. You heard the team. He might contact us in the next few days, he is a smart man and he knows how to get a message out. But I don't want it to hurt you more if he never does." She tries to reason and you shook your head.

"No, you don't understand. He promised, " your head was spinning, "he's coming back." You felt tears fall down your face. When had you started crying? "He promised me that he was coming back home." Your voice broke which surprised you. Before you knew it you were crying into Leia's arms and you couldn't stop yourself. That was how you stayed with her for a while after, you weren't sure how long. She shed some tears of her own but eventually you both ran dry. You lost feeling again and you couldn't tell if it was better or worse. You made a decision. You wouldn't grieve over him until you were sure he was not coming back. You wouldn't mourn until you were sure.

The alternative was not, however, to recover. Instead you just stopped doing anything at all. You stopped eating, taking care of yourself, caring. Soon, your friends came in to talk to you. Instead of it being conversation though, they just talked at you. You couldn't bring yourself to respond or really even listen. Or maybe you did but you just couldn't remember. They would periodically come through to help you into a shower in which you just let the water run over you while someone else, you thought maybe Rey but you couldn't even recall, washed your hair. You drank water when they asked and would take a bite of food if they begged but other than that you might as well have been dead to the world. You almost hadn't realized how much of a vital part to your existence Poe was. How little you could bring yourself to do without him. You had thought you were prepared to be separated, you were in the middle of a war after all. Instead it was impossible to do anything without him and you wondered how long you could keep doing it.

This went on for a week. That was how long it took for them to declare him 'killed in action'. They felt that, if he was alive, he would have found a way to contact the base with the help of BB8 and local lifeforms. That was when you allowed yourself to grieve. The numbness turned into pain and it was a million times worse. You would have given anything to go back to numb.

You finally listened to your friends when they talked to you but their consolations did nothing to put you at ease. You still struggled to do anything but you complied with their pleads. You had been convinced, 2 weeks after the KIA announcement, to go to the canteen. To see people and interact. Finn pulled you along with an attempt at a smile on his face. Your face was blank but you tried to soften your eyes. You knew he was trying to help and he was grieving the loss of his best friend as well. When you were pulled into the large cafeteria, all noise ceased. You knew that they were looking at you and you guessed that they pitied you. You had seen yourself in the mirror that morning and you would have pitied you too. You got pulled to a table and Finn went to go get you and himself food.

People periodically came by and said hello or asked how you were as you tried to eat something. You responded with one word answers usually and you hadn't met anyone's eyes. You could feel yourself getting overwhelmed and decided you would head back to your room. You quietly thanked Finn for trying and left to the hallway.

Suddenly, alarms sounded. You were startled into awareness and people began running past you.

'ALL EMERGENCY CREW TO FLIGHT DECK'

You were curious about the alarm but you weren't emergency crew and you knew they didn't need any more bodies there than would already be there. That was until you heard someone as they rushed by as they talked to the medic next to them.

"Yeah I heard it was him but he went missing weeks ago." They sounded confused and continued jogging toward the flight deck. You feet started moving before you could even process it and it was the fastest you'd moved since he had gone missing. Since he had died.

When you got to the flight deck there was already a crowd. You could see over the see a people a beat up X-Wing. You thought you might have heard a droid. You elbowed your way to the front of the crowd, not apologizing when people grumbled their frustrations at you. When you made it to the front you were stood no more than 50 feet from him. He was soot covered and beat up but he was standing as he tried to wiggle out of the grasp of the medics. BB8 beeped and turned, spotting you. He made a loud excited noise and rushed to roll over to you and Poe turned at the sound. When he met your gaze he smiled.

You felt your knees give out and tears start to fall from your eyes. Your arms crossed over your stomach and you started to curl into a ball over your knees. A sob left you and suddenly large warm hands were on your shoulders.

"Y/N? My love, are you okay?" He rushed out, checking over you for injury as the medics still grumbled about needing to see him. His hand came under your chin to move your face so he was making eye contact with you. You let out another sob before grabbing his vest and pulling him into you, he kneeled to the ground as you clung to him and cried into his chest. He moved himself so he was sitting on the ground and he pulled you into his lap. You felt his hands on your back trying to soothe you but you couldn't stop crying. "I'm back. I'm so sorry I was gone but I'm back." He mumbled out as he kissed your head a few times.

"I'm so angry at you." You whispered and he almost laughed, just happy to hear your voice. You finally pulled your head out of his chest and kissed him like your life depended on it, like it was the last time you would ever see him. You pulled away so you were looking into his eyes. "Please don't leave me," you begged almost silently. You weren't even sure if he could hear you. "Please don't leave again."

"I'm not leaving, baby, I promise." He tried to calm you. "I'm right here. I'm okay."

You nodded, trying to convince yourself that he was real and he was here. You kissed him again just to check. You pulled away again, still trying to convince yourself.

"You died." You struggled out and Poe felt tears in his eyes as well. "You were dead, you crashed and you didn't make it and then they said you were gone." You said like that was what happened.

"I didn't die, my love. I'm right here. I'm alive, I'm okay." Poe pleaded and he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his face so you could feel him. Your hand moved along is jaw which was now covered in stubble and grime. Your head shook like you were disagreeing with him but you were simply in disbelief.

"I love you" You mumbled as your eyes traced the lines of his face and tears fell from your eyes. He let a few tears fall as well before pressing meaningful kisses to every part of your face that he could reach.

You spent the next 2 hours like that. You wouldn't leave his hold and he didn't try to move you. The medics worked around you and everyone greeted him without disturbing you. You stayed, on his lap, curled into his chest. Your breathing had slowed to a normal pace and you were holding onto his vest tightly. Eventually, he had to be debriefed. He petted your hair and cooed at you to catch your attention.

"Y/N, my love," he whispered, "we have to get up now." He felt you nod but you made no move to get up from him. He took a breath before moving you off of his lap as you whined, standing up, and then picking you up so you could wrap yourself around him. You hummed contentedly into his chest and he had a smile on his face as he walked through the base.

"I love you." You whispered again into his chest. You had been doing it periodically every so often in the last 2 hours and every time Poe would repeat it back to you, kiss your head, or say something else. This time he chose to kiss your head.

"Baby, I have to go to the debriefing now and you know you can't come with me." He tried to say gently but he knew this separation might be hard for both of you. "I'm gonna put you down." He warned before encouraging your legs to go to the floor. You listened but didn't release his neck which you were also clung to. His hands fell to your waist and you both stood for a moment with your heads in each others necks and breathing deeply. "I'm gonna hand you off to Rey, okay?" He asked as he flagged down Rey from the hallway.

"Okay." You whispered, still not releasing him.

"Hey, Rey, sorry to bother you but could you keep Y/N company for a few minutes while I talk to Leia and the squadron?"

"Oh of course!" Rey chirped and you took a deep breath before releasing Poe. You let him kiss your cheeks and your nose before he walked the other direction toward the command center. You stared at him until Rey put her hand in yours and clasped it. You turned to look at her and for the first time in weeks, she saw you smile. "I'm so happy for you, Y/N." She assured and you believed her.

"Thank you." You whispered and another tear fell from you, this time of joy and happiness. Not grief.

"What do you say to heading to your room and get cleaned up a bit, yeah?" She tried and you nodded, following where her hand lead with one last glance toward the direction that Poe went.

"-the converter didnt even work until a day ago because the main power source broke down." Poe finished explaining his time on the planet he had crashed on and the rest of the squadron nodded and asked a few more questions. Once he was done, Finn met him outside the command center.

"So-" he paused, "I'm not sure how to say this nicely but most of your stuff went into the redistribution center because you were presumed dead." He rushed out. Poe took a moment to process and nodded.

"Well that's sort of a bummer. Could I borrow some of your stuff?" Poe asked, knowing it would take at least a day for him to get reassigned sets of uniforms.

"Yeah of course, that's why I'm standing here waiting for you. You could get cleaned up in my room too if you want. I know Y/N kept a few of your jackets and shirts but most of it got taken." The boys began to walk toward Finn's living quarters and there was a moment of silence before Poe asked something he wasn't sure he wanted the answer to.

"What happened when I was gone?" His throat felt dry suddenly and his words came out hoarse. "To Y/N I mean. Was she okay?" Poe wasn't sure what answer he wanted. He knew from your recent reaction that you were devastated, as he would have been, but he also knew he had a dangerous job. He might not come back from some other mission in the future and he hoped you would survive without him.

"Do you really want to know?" Finn questioned.

Poe nodded.

"I mean, she was broken." He paused to think. "She didn't talk to anyone for a week. Wouldn't move. Wouldn't cry. Rey had to help her shower and we had to beg her to eat. We almost sent her to the med wing because we thought she was gonna pass out from dehydration, she would barely take a sip of water." Poe's heart was in his throat but he was sure there was more. "Then you were pronounced KIA."

"Oh god."

"Yeah it wasn't pretty. They pulled your stuff out of your guys' room, took your name off the ledger. Leia let her keep some stuff but it was hard to watch. She finally cried, she just wouldn't stop. She was more responsive but she wasn't even moving towards okay. You could tell she was only doing what we were asking because we were begging. That she was doing it out of guilt. Today was actually the first day that I talked her into coming out of her room. She had been to the canteen for about an hour when she felt she needed to leave and then alarms sounded that you were back." Finn finished with a glance to his friend and Poe looked like he might throw up.

"I want her to be okay if I don't make it back one day." Poe tried to explain to his friend.

"She probably would have been functioning in a few months. She wouldn't have recovered but she would function. She's a strong woman, but she also loves you a lot. I mean, how would you react if she was killed on mission?" Poe could tell it was a rhetorical question but he thought about it very carefully. You were an engineer so you weren't called out on mission often, not nearly as often as him. When you were, he was worried sick the whole time. He hadn't really thought about how him being gone affected you before. Now looking back on it he kicked himself for it.

Poe thought about what he would have done if you had died and he thought that your reaction was probably mild. That he would have been unresponsive for weeks or even become violent with anger and grief. He knew that you were the one for him, the most important thing in his life, and without you he didn't know if he would find purpose in his life anymore. He fought in the war as hard as he did for you. To make the galaxy safer for you.

When he went MIA it was because he tried to take out a couple more imperial ships than he could handle. He only did it because he knew they would have followed them back to base if they left. Back to you. So he took the risk and it backfired but he knew he would do it again to try and keep the First Order away from you.

He was knocked out of his train of thought by the arrival at Finn's quarters. Poe tried to get cleaned up and dressed quickly, getting the grime off of himself and shaving his face. He hurried back to your shared quarters and when he entered his room he was greeted with your smiling face as you laughed.

You were sat on the bed, Rey on the other end, as you were talking about something which caught you in a fit of giggles. At the sound of him stepping into the room you looked at him and got up quickly to rush up and hug him tightly.

"Missed you." You mumbled into his chest. As he held you Rey silently nodded at Poe and left the room.

"Was only gone for a minute, honey bun." He reassured and you pulled your face back.

"You know I hate that one."

"Boo bear?" he teased and you shook your head no. "Munchkin?" nope. "honey bear?" no thank you. "Baby love?" You tilted your head a bit.

"I don't loathe that one."

"Sweetheart?"

"I like that one."

"Princess?"

"That's my favorite" You giggled and kissed him quickly for a moment. He could have cried at the sight of you giggling. He had missed that, you, the sounds you made, so goddamn much. More than he would ever put into words.

"I know it is, pretty girl." He smiled before picking you up and you squealed. He walked you over to the bed before dropping you on it and laying next to you. You climbed close to him, practically laying on his chest. His arm was snug around your waist and he left no room for you to move, not that you would have anyway. "How would you feel about going to bed, princess?" He almost whispered, not wanting to disrupt the fragile quiet in the room.

"Yes please. I love you Poe." You whispered back and closed your eyes a bit, focussing on his breathing.

"I love you, Y/N" he responded.

You both got the first decent sleep you'd had in weeks that night.

[burning-basilisk]

So I went to my first ever BDSM/kink play party recently.

My relationship with my own sexuality has always been weird... but this year in particular, I've been exploring it a lot.

I have multiple close friends who are active in the kink community, and one of them invited me to a "beginner-friendly" play party.

Let's call this friend Joe. And I'll call his girlfriend Sue.

As we checked in, we were given an option for wristbands. Green for "open play", yellow for "negotiable", and red for "no open play, don't ask". I chose yellow.

The venue was a small warehouse with a very haphazard interior, with differently themes areas, like a classroom or and office, as well as large metal rigs that some people played on. A lot of the place was cluttered, but the areas where people were sitting, playing, or hanging from, were all immaculately clean.

I didn't have any explicitly sexual contact with anyone throughout the night. It was an "open play" party, so sex was within the rules, but only one couple actually fucked.

Most of the 30-50 people present were just hanging out. It had the air of a rather large board game party, where around 85+% of the guests at any given moment were either gathered to watch some group play, or just casually mingling amongst each other between play sessions.

And I want to really emphasize the word "play" here, because that is the most concise and complete way to describe the atmosphere I felt, there.

Playful... in a truly childish sense, but with the acceptance of the sexual side of everyone there, however weird it may be.

Joe and Sue were there to showcase and teach a particularly exotic form of play: fire play.

Sue stripped mostly naked and bent over a curiously designed piece of leather furniture. Joe took a pair of very small torches with very soft wicks and soaked them in some generic rubbing alcohol.

He lit one of them, and trailed the other along the skin of Sue's back, pressing some of the fuel onto her skin, before tapping the lit torch to her skin, igniting the trail briefly, before his free bare hand quickly swept the flames away a split second later.

He played with the amount of fuel, the length of the trail, and the duration of the flame.

I should add, here, that the three of us are all fire dancers, and have lots of experience being burned in varying degrees, with very few scars. We have a good idea of what a "real" burn feels like on our skin, versus a harmless flash of heat.

But the others at this party? Not so much. Only the most adventurous among them even bothered to approach Joe afterwards and ask him about it.

Then, Sue asked me if I wanted it done to me, and I accepted.

It was an exhilarating experience. I took off my shirt and bent over the leather thing that I now wish I had a name for, and saw a flare of light as she lit the torch.

The sensations themselves were... hot on multiple levels, sure. I felt the cold fuel trail over my skin, then light up in a flash of heat, up and down my back, over my shoulders and arms. When the lit torch went out, I started to get up, but then felt her hand on my back. She asked me if I wanted some more. I caught a glimpse of a moderate crowd gathered behind me, and noticed my heart racing. I said yes.

Afterwards, a rather cute girl approached me and said that she really liked watching me, but she had to leave, so we quickly exchanged instagram handles.

I then hung around some more, chatting with other guests, most of whom seemed very new to this world as well. Everyone was very nice, and extremely forgiving of any lapse in social niceties. It was not only okay to be awkward around here, it felt almost encouraged. Being around very nice people who are deliberately acting beyond their usual bounds of respectability or shame... it really made me wonder what other parts of me I might be stifling in favor of conformity.

I talked to Joe and Sue about it on the drive back, and Sue said something about how I have a nice back, and that my muscles show when I twitch and squirm, and Joe echoed her sentiments.

I've been thinking about it every day since. The idea that I could be sexually alluring to anyone, at all, feels foreign... but also, really good. Not just as a cognitively defined value, but as a somatic and emotional experience.

I feel so estranged from the person I was a year ago.

And I love it.

[dontcallmecarrie]

an idea I had on my commute, because this trope is a personal favorite:

Justin Hammer blinked the stars out of their eyes, not even bothering to move before they got their bearings because last thing they needed was to get motion sickness on top of whatever had been in that weird laser gun Ivan and Victor had been messing with went off.

Ugh. They’d told Ivan to secure his projects better, told them someone’d end up in the hospital, why did nobody listen to them?!

Well. 

At least Winter’d tear them a new one, they could count on that much. If only because they were his meal ticket, but still.

Justin cautiously tried to sit up, and now that the ringing in their ears was going down they caught the last few snatches of whatever the people around them had been saying. 

Because there was now a crowd now, apparently. Joy.

“—ell is going on here, how did he even get here?”

“—rgy readings are all wrong, this makes no sense—”

“—plain to me how a civilian got into one of the most secured locations this side of the Mississippi? Anyone?”

“—ot to be kidding me,” a familiar voice said, “how did Hammer of all people get here? Oh, hey, he’s alive. Hey, Hammer? How’d you get out of Seagate?”

One of these things was not like the others. 

Not that Justin knew what the hell was going on, not when they’d been in a safehouse not two minutes ago, but...this was the first time in their life they’d heard that note of derision in Tony’s voice. 

Aimed at them, anyway, because goodness knew how many rants about Howard they’d talked him through after the accident. 

“Anyone get the number of that truck?” Justin asked with a groan, and didn’t even have to pretend to be confused by the truly impressive number of guns pointed his way as he sat up. “Hey, easy there, when’s the last time you got certified to carry with that type of grip?”

The looks Justin got were...less than welcoming. 

“How’d you get out of Seagate?” Director Fury said more than asked, and just like that, Justin knew what that gun had done, even before an agent looked over with a frown after tapping away at their tablet.

“Sir? Justin Hammer’s still in custody.”

Winter had better be kicking everyone’s ass for this, this was not what they’d signed up for when they’d stopped by with takeout.

.

aka NHDD!Justin crash-lands the MCU, and it goes about as well as expected.

...but to be honest? I’ve been playing with several permuations of this, just can’t decide which would be the most fun to mess with because, I mean, here’s some of the others:

NHDD!Avengers meet canon, wonder wtf is up with this ticking time bomb of a team and canon!Tony’s almost unrecognizable because they’re used to a Tony with very clear boundaries and may not be as heroic, but he’s theirs and seeing a version of him who’s been through the wringer is. Something not great. 

50/50 odds on who picks a fight, because NH!Tony will push back if someone tries to start something, but NH!Steve has even less chill than canon because he’s caught up in a goddamn love dodecahedron and anyone looking at his team wrong gets to deal with all the pent-up stress that entails.

NHDD!Justin meets canon [see above]. Rocky start due to obvious reasons, while Cabal’s scrambling to figure out a way to get them back, Justin immediately latches onto canon!Tony and they may not be a therapist, but tbh they’re pretty damn close sometimes. 

canon!Tony gets a concentrated dose of All the Feels™, feat. “your feelings are valid” and “you are not alone, asking for help isn’t being a burden” and “even if other people think poorly of you, that’s on them, you owe them nothing” and Tony’s very, very sad to see him go.

...this could also be pretty painful for canon!Justin, for reasons seen in this next scenario:

canon!Justin meets NHDD. Cue All The Self-Worth Issues. Because I tried to hint at it in NHDD, but long story short, canon!Justin was kinda set up for failure, between his poor excuses for parents, terrible role models, and the whole “growing up constantly compared to Tony Stark” thing is just asking for a major inferiority complex somewhere in here. So you take this Justin, and present him a world that could be summed up as, “I’m you, but better”? Who has everything he ever wanted, was taken seriously and treated with respect? He’s not going to have a good time.

irony is, it’s absolutely not his fault, either: NHDD!Justin is different not because of his circumstances, but because they’ve got echoes of a past life [...even if they don’t remember the specifics anymore].

on the flipside, the NHDD crew would get a better idea of just how unusual their Justin is, and their secret might get discovered somewhere in this

Cabal meets canon. Cue explosions, and a lot of dark hilarity because this League of Supposed-to-be-Evil-but-mostly-Just-Vibing has way better teamwork than the elite team of superheroes assembled to protect the Earth.

Victor’s probably the snarkiest here, once the shock of “holy shit I knew I hadn’t expected to survive Latveria’s civil war but is this what would’ve happened to my homeland? thanks I hate it” wears off.

NH!Bucky gives absolutely no fucks about shit going down anymore, splits his time between hunting down HYDRA [which seems to be even more of a problem in this hellscape, ugh] and avoiding this universe’s Steve Rogers because self-care is a thing and he has no idea what this universe’s Bucky is up to but he knows he’s probably in not as great a place as he was. 

[v3nusaphr0d1t3]

i’m in love with a stripper

crossposted on ao3: <3 rating: mature warnings: strip club environment, suggestive themes (no actual smut tho) gender neutral stripper!reader x hawks. afab implied but can be read either way.

your job was to look good, feel bad, and entertain. in the most literal sense.

life as an ‘exotic dancer’ wasn’t nearly as glamorous as movies and shit made it out to be. your body ached constantly, you had nearly fought about 4 people in the past two weeks, and you came home in the morning smelling like alcohol and sweat and some random cologne. the pay wasn’t amazing on its own, so you had to rut yourself against old men to pay your rent.

and yet, it was addicting in a way you couldn’t exactly explain. you had wanted to work in the entertainment industry since you were little, a star up on the big screen. this was sort-of similar. you had eyes on you at all times, and it was your job to put on a great show. but instead of red-carpets it was party favors and gross back-room carpeting. 

it was good workout, and you knew you looked good enough to taste, so that was always a plus. tonight, you were all dolled up, one of your more femme looks. your shorts were riding low on your hips, yet still stopped so high on your legs that it could be considered more of a belt than a pair of shorts. your thong straps framed your hips, bright red in comparison to the blue jean shorts. you had a red bikini top on, and a crop top that was yet again just another shred of fabric framing it. your shoes were red and tall enough to make you feel like you were on top of the world. 

you had gotten used to the sashay and drama of all the bullshit presentation, perfected your sultry stare, and polished your pole skills. yes, you could use work. but so could everyone, it was an art that you were still constantly trying to learn more about. 

so as you walked your way out on stage on a busy friday night, you could tell that tonight would be a good tip night. first off, there was MUCH more security than normal, which meant that someone important was probably in attendance for some kind of ‘special night’. they got bachelor parties and birthday parties all the time, but usually they weren’t this… guarded?

 it was strange, but you instead focused on feelings the rhythm in your bones as you strutted your way up to the pole, starting to go into one of your choreographed routines that you knew like the back of your hand. though you supposed you could throw in some more risky moves, for whoever was currently paying for your console gaming subscription. being in the air was always exhilarating, but you were always worried about flashing too much. you knew that it would happen eventually, but you would still prefer for it not to.

you spun too fast on your way down and got that wobbling feeling in your stomach as your heels hit the stage a bit too hard to be ‘graceful’. oh well, you thought as you moved to the more floor-based part of your routine. you brought your hands up, running them over your body and pulling at your crop top, pulling it off and throwing it further back on the stage to be retrieved when you were done with your set. 

you made it slow, teasing, swaying your hips to the beat of the song and running your hands back down, under the strings of your thong to snap them against your hips. it was effective, but it was hard not to wince in annoyance. you were too salty to do this shit. it was a lucky thing that you were so good at acting. you slid further onto your knees, back arched as you looked some random guy that was halfway decent and crawled forward. that was something that always racked in tips. it made folks feel engaged with the whole experience. the guy held up a 20 and you stuck it under your thong strap, moving to collect more of the money that had been thrown at you.

you were honest with yourself when you said you loved the attention that this job brought. there were many people out in the crowd that wanted you, that sat in their chair or stood amongst the sweaty crowd with a white-knucked grip and lust in their eyes, and you ate it up. you loved being wanted, it was one of the worlds wonders. 

eventually, you finished your set, hair tousled from flipping it, back of your knees and your hands sore from gripping the pole, but ultimately you felt invigorated. energized. like someone had wound you up like a toy. and now you had to pounce on someone in hopes of attention and the money you needed to buy that new game you had been saving up for. comical.

you could tell a bunch of the dancers were anticipating the party that was in tonight. it was obvious they were important, and important people had money. so the dancers that weren’t on the stage currently were prowling around the VIP area, looking to advertise themselves.

you decided to do the charity work and tend to the rest of the forgotten crowd. you knew from experience that eventually the richer guests would get tired of giving their money away and eventually leave. and the rest of the crowd was just sitting there, so you slipped your way in to the seats that were closer to the stage (shitty stripper etiquette, but some of thesen dancers were fuckin’ shady sometimes) and found some dude who looked wimpy enough to play the whole deity act with. 

you walked your way around the chair, placing your hands on his shoulders and beginning to rub them, your hand making it’s way down his chest as you whispered a greeting in his ear. you used your other hand to run through his hair, plucking the bill in his hand out of his hand and into your g string on your hip with the rest of them. you moved back around the chair and plopped down on his lap, feigning interest and asking him about his day, making him feel special with the whole shebang. you eventually were able to make quiet some money from that guy, surprisingly. and you left him alone and unsatisfied when the lights dimmed between sets. 

now, to find someone else out of sight of the first guy. you were on your way to do that when something caught your eye. a glimmer of gold, no- not metal, someones eyes. you were momentarily mesmerized before you realized that the person attached to those honey irises was staring at you. at you. from the VIP booth. while you were in the middle of the crowd. you were never flustered, so it was new when you felt a heat in your cheeks. 

you quickly put your act back on, throwing him a wink. he made a ‘come here’ motion with his finger, but you gave him a playful grin and a little teasing wave of dismissal. you had no idea what came over you to do that, but you decided to stick with this little ‘hard-to-get’ persona, and you disappeared into the crowd. 

not 10 minutes later you were grinding on some guy through your shorts, just to work that 50 out of his hand. he was one of the assholes that would promise and never give. it was hypocritical for you to think that way, you supposed, but it was your job. either way, you got it from him by nosing up his neck (too much cologne) and giggling in his ear. and he put the bill in your g-string himself. gross.

you slid away from him between sets like you always did, and once again felt the heat of eyes on you. this was different, however. it wasn’t like the usual eyes on you, the gazes you had grown to crave and expect. this was predatory. you were being watched like a hawk. you spun around to find him staring at you again, this time split off from his little friends and instead sitting in a chair further back from the stage. he gave you a certain look and raised his hand, waving a bill in his hand. like bait! that was hotter than it should have been. 

still, decided to make your way over to him, stopping in front of his chair, towering over him in your platform heels as he sat in the chair. he didn’t seem too physically imposing, but his energy was cockier than shit and you could tell he was bulked up. you usually didn’t fuck with these types, but something about him was just magnetic. it was insane. he leaned back in his chair, obviously insinuating that he wanted the same treatment as the others. you instead took a singular finger and raised his chin up to meet his eyes as they ran you up and down. 

and that was when you realized, under the dim lights, that you were a complete and total idiot. you hadn’t even realize that the man in front of you was hawks, number two pro hero and the man too fast for his own good. you tried not to make a face, but you knew he could most definitely see in your eyes the minute you put the puzzle pieces together. what the fuck was he doing in a place like this?

“what the fuck is someone like you doing in a place like this?” you asked, coming out of your mouth before you could really stop yourself. he only chuckled, grinning as you felt his jaw tense against your finger. the main reason you didn’t recognize him is because there was a lack of giant red wings.

“what anyone else is tryin’ to do. have a good time! it’s my friends birthday, i have a life outside work, you know?” his voice was barely heard over the pounding of the music and the bass rattling under your feet. 

“what about your reputation? i’m surprised there isn’t a line to gag on your dick at this point,” you held no filter in speaking to him. you never had it with anyone else, really, and what was so special about him? he was just another dude in the club, so you did what you always did and slid into his lap, pressing your bodies together in all the ways you knew did the best. you watched something flash in his eyes as he bit his lip for a moment. he looked back up to meet your eyes again.

“well, how long did it take you to recognize me? and you’re sober, aren’t you?” hawks brought a sculpted arm up to wrap around your waist, and you slapped it away as you worked your hips against his to the beat. 

“no comment. and no touching, unless you want to pay for that too.”

“i might just have to. what’s your name, gorgeous?” his face was too smug for a man who could buy the building, yet completely in the the eye of the public had a semi hard-on for a stranger in some daisy dukes. 

“i don’t know, what’s yours?” you asked, raising your eyebrow. you didn’t know his real name, no one did. it was a mystery highly speculated about online, not that you checked or anything. 

“fair enough, fair enough. pick one before i blow a couple hundred on getting free roam to touch you.” he said, rolling his hips up to meet yours. this shocked you, catching your breath, and you knew he had noticed by the shit-eating grin he wore. 

you gave him your stripper name. it was sufficient enough to add another layer of mystery, because even though you were in his lap, you wanted to keep up this game of cat and mouse. predator and prey.

the thought of that made you tingle. you told him your rates, and he forked it over quite a fuckin’ bit. you stood up from where you were sat in his lap (thought the loss was more upsetting than you would care to admit). you took his wrist (his hand was big) and started to drag him back to one of the more secluded areas. 

you had to pass the VIP area to do that, and when you did, you heard a shout. it scared the shit out of you for starters, but hawks seemed to recognize the voice. it was coming from a woman with white hair and rabbit ears, currently cheering hawks on.

“fuckin’ get some, dude!” she said, and her voice was strangely familiar as hawks flashed an award-winning grin and a thumbs up. you winked at her and pulled hawks on with you.

you pulled him into a pseudo-room in the back. not cut off by doors, but isolated and split off by room dividers. you pushed him back onto one of the booth-like seats lining the wall.

the music was quieter back here, and it was easier to hear yourself think. the lights were dim and the bass was still thumping through the floor. there was no one back here, just you and him. 

“ ‘kay, so i’m technically not supposed to let you touch me, but you just paid for my groceries and they don’t really check the cameras here. also, you’re cute.” you rambled off, more genuine and clearer now that the music wasn’t so intense in the middle of the madness. and then, catching the beat, you started your ministrations, rolling your hips against his and hearing his breath catch as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

“so i’ve been told,” he says with a shit-eating grin.

“don’t let it go to your head, princess.” you said, and he didn’t reply, too focused on oogling you.

his hands came up to hold your waist, and he put his effort into moving along with you, and his grinding did not go unnoticed. or unappreciated, for that matter. with his hips at your waist, he raked his thumbs under your thong straps and snaps them against your hips like you had earlier. it earns a breathy chuckle from you as you watched his pupils pin. you pulled back, standing and watching his face sour as his hands were pulled from your waist. but you decided to give him a little show, just ��cuz you had a case of the hots for him and the way he was looking at you was much appreciated.

you now stood in front of him, towering above him as you toyed with the waistband of your daisy dukes. he simply bit his lip, practically eye-fucking you. it was exhilarating. you enjoyed the lustful gazes from customers, but this was on a different level. you felt truly alive, and yet like you were melting all the same. your insides felt gooey but you kept your perfected expression hard, movements practiced, sex appeal seasoned to flawlessness. and now you unbuttoned your shorts, pulling them down to reveal your bright red thong, hips, legs and torso all one long line. he looked at you like dinner and you were fucking living for it.

you kneeled inbetween his legs, laying your head on one of his thighs in the way you knew drove people crazy.

you heard a small “god damn,” exit his mouth as he looked at you, entranced as you caught his t-shirt on your way up his body with your teeth, pulling it up and dropping it back down, promptly standing up to slide backwards into his lap. you roll your ass where you know it’s appreciated and hear his breathing speed up behind you. you can practically hear his heart pounding to match your own, like a drum to the beat. your body laid down the bass, your eyes were the melody and he was drowning.

and when it was all over, poor guy walked out of the club with his fellow semi-disguised pro-heros with a raging hard on.

and later on, when you were pulling all your money out to count it, you caught a piece of paper rolled up along a $100 bill. it was his number. a pro-hero gave you his number. that was risky, especially in the type of place they were in.

you liked the risk he took. you put his number in your phone. 

[the-fourth-knower]

Diary of a lost doe, part 1

A short fic where my character Annabelle writes in diaries

Fresh off losing her parents, Annabelle Flaches must contend with trying to fend for herself and her baby sister Angelica. And with Angelica talking to a mysterious green orb when she thinks Annabelle isn’t watching, things are only at the tip of the iceberg.

This is for me and Aquillis’s “half and half” AU, our ‘main’ AU. not to be confused with Aqui’s pack universe which is her underground re-write.

Due to the length I'm splitting this into two parts. This is part 1, part 2 is here!

Diary Enry 1, Day I dunno.

Okay here it is. First diary entry I guess. Gotta keep it brief, writing instruements are hard.

Been a few months since that day. We’re doing fine. Angie started another garden. Moved to a new spot.

Got some new things for the house. Old car door and a tire. Not sure what I’ll do with the tire gonna use the door as part of wall.

Finished roof this morning. Good thing 2, might rain.

Angie still sleps bad if not next to me. Writing while she’s curled up. Wasn’t for scars on ear and having to sleep in same clothes she’d look like we’re still home.

Gotta sleep now.

Diary Entry 2

Maybe got a job. Illegal probs but $ is $

Angelica talked more today. Good sign? Maybe she relapses back into not talking but progress.

I never thought i’d miss her annoying stupid “hey lets go explore a cave and not tell anyone bout what we’ll do” self. Never thought about losing mum and pa ei

Shit crying. Bye.

Diary entry 3

Diary didn’t get too wet yesterday.Don’t think bout mom and pa it ends badly.

I can’t afford to break down even if Angie’s sleeping

If I break down then Angie will get upset

I won’t put her through it

I won’t

…

Diary entry 54

Had to leave town but am 600 $ richer

Angie’s quiet again. But she didn’t complain bout us leavin

gonna go for a city maybe. more risk but more money and places to live.

Jadetown’s the city. Dunno too much bout it but mum liked it.

Should get there in maybe a cuple weeks or so

Angie’s sound asleep. No kicking or anything so that’s good

Hope the city’s okay. Angie hates crowds.

Need somewhere with not a lot of crowds to live at

…

Diary Entry 63

Been a hot second. Settling in Jadetown’s pretty hard.

Find a quiet spot in the slums. Pretty shitty now, but the two of us can make it work

Angie still isn’t talking, but she kept close to me while we made our way through the crowds. She seemed fine as long as she held my hand

Lost her a couple times, but not for long. She seemed upset bout it.

Sorry Angie.

I’ll do better. I promise.

...

Diary Entry 169 (it’s the morning but fuck it)

The nightmare happened again.

Angelica having her ear scared by those monsters. mum and pa being taken away in exchange for us being set loose

Only it loops around and around before it’s just cries and blood and knives and screams and crying and they’re all surrounding me judging me for just failing everyone because you’re a fucking failure

Haven’t had it a while. Don’t upset yourself, Angie needs you.

Diary entry 169? Night

Angelica almost killed some street thugs.

we caught some dumbass looking punks bullying some sort of chao. I think it’s a chao

I ran up to one like an idiot and gout in their face to know what they’re doin, and the things went dark. I got knocked out on my ass, apparenlty the big brute that led them butted me in the head. Asshole didn’t even let me get ready

I came to to Angie trying to shake me awake. When I looked around the punks were gone, there were plant vines all over, and the other kids that had gathered were a mix of crapped their pants and mouths on the floor

I asked angie bout it and she just said she took care of them and that the punks had run off

What the hell did she do? Usually I’m the one saving her? But she was having none of it today.

Oh the chao’s fine, weirdass chao though. Never seen chao that just cause flowers to grow around them or in their footsteps.

Made 30 $

Rib’s hurting and headache, Angie fast asleep. Time for bed.

Diary Entry 170

Chao’s bak.

Visited Angie’s garden for a while watchin me watchin it. It waved and left right around Angie gettin up.

Showed up again when we got back home. Angie hasn’t seen it yet. Good thing, she wanted to bring it with us. We can’t afford three mouths.

I don’t like it. We save its ass and now its stalking us.

Made nothin.

Ribs hurt less. Still a bitch.

Diary entry 171

Angie’s found the “chao”

She talked to it all morning when she thought i was napping. Couldn’t sleep, too afraid of bad dreams.

It doesn’t make chao sounds. Or it does but really weird ones.

Then it turned a green light ball for a bit and back into a chao

Angie liked that.

I don’t trust it. Even less.

Need to watch it.

Angie’s relaxed.

Made 5$.

Diary Entry 172 morn

Nightmare again

Diary Entry 172 night

Angie got excited, claimed that she “found Trevor”

he lived near us back in our old home

Had to tell her no, every red mouse we see is not Trevor.

She says that Trevor and his family were gonna move here, pretty inistent too.

Man she gets caught up on the smallest things

Made 20$

Diary Entry 173

Chao returned while i was working. Left Angie on her own

Shes seemed like she was having a fun time being able to talk with someone

She’s not made friends much. Maybe i’m being too hard on the ‘chao’

Still gotta watch it. It could be manipulating her

Haven’t told her I know bout the chao yet.

Should i?

Not now. Angelica is sleeping.

Made 5$

Diary Entry 174

‘Trevor’ spotting 2. Angie wanted to go bug the person. So we went and sure enough as we got closer Angie changed her mind. It was a rat, not a mouse she said.

How can she tell the difference?

No Angie and chao visit. Unless it was while i slept in. but why would she be secretive bout it?

Saw the punk bitch again today. Looked like he crapped his pants when he saw Angie and she glared at him. That’s my sister.

Made 60$

…

Diary Entry 364

Got a new diary. Last entry for this one. Things going well. Got a good thing going for myself.

Angie found a new plant today, and now she’s got it in her garden.

Loved the look on her face when I got it for her.

Made 50$

Angelica’s chatted with the Chao again. Sort of like, is her guardian I think. Or is that its name

Guess good bye diary 1. Really weird to do but it feels right.

Angie’s sleeping well enough on her own. She mumbles but that seems it.

Do I do a good job keeping her safe

Diary 2 Entry 1

Managed to find a new diary. Keeping the old one just cause, and because I have the storage. For a couple of street bum does, we’ve got a decent enough house going. Been able to put it together from bits and bobs lying around, Angie even threw in her hat and added her own touches.

Looks ugly as hell with the plants holding things together and it’s all a mish mash of junk and crap I found, but it’s our mishmash of junk and crap.

Also saved up enough and am making enough to afford more than one pen and even some pencils. So I can write more often. Just felt like writing

Angie’s started to get more vocal again. I think she’s catching onto the fact the way I’ve been making money is less than honest a lot of the time.

I’m not going to sell myself for it though. I’m not degrading myself with that and nayone who fucking tries is going to a hospital.

And if any of those freaks dare go near Angie there won’t be enough left for a morgue to pick up.

Oh, and the chao’s still around. I can feel it. Angelica loves it, I think. I don’t trust it entirely, yet. But, it hasn't been a danger for the past months. So I think it’s actually a good thing.. Angie calls it Guardian. Maybe it's our own Guardian Angel.

Made 65$ today.

Good journal entry me. You got talkative. Writative? Whatever.

...

Diary 2 Entry 23

Got into a fight today, that was fun. The punks from when I helped save Guardian decided to jump me when Angelica was at the house. Guess they figured they could jump me without little sis to back me up. Too bad for them, when I don’t get suckered I’m damn good at defending myself. Sent them packing. Got a bit bruised. Why is it always the ribs with those guys.

Admittedly. I didn’t have to beat the crap out of them. But talk shit get hit, I say. They shouldn’t have been trash talking me when I was walking by.

-

Angelica was upset when I got back. Should’ve expected that, really. Don’t know why I didn’t think she would notice me being hurt, she’s got a sixth sense for that sort of thing. Always has. Kinda weird.

But, she did try and heal me a bit. Somehow, she’s gotten better at it -Ever since she's met Guardian, she’s gotten more control over that healing ability she has. I just need to make sure she doesn’t overdo herself again.

I don’t know anything much bout healing magic or whatever it is, but I don’t think what Angie has is normal. I think she uses herself for it. Whatever healing she tries to do just eats away at her. And whatever it was was enough to frighten Pa to move us in the first place

-

I think part of me might blame ANgie for it. For getting us out of the safety of where we lived near Agateton and moving.

But if we didn’t move would we really have been safe still. And it wasn’t Angie’s fault she did what she did, it was Pa who pushed for it and Mum who went with it.

So do I blame them? I don’t want to. The monsters that took them and hurt Angie are the ones to blame.

But they wouldn’t have found us if we didn’t move near that forest. But Mum and Pa couldn’t have seen it coming.

Ugh. brain hurts. Fuck this mind screw bullshite

Spent 123.54$ today. Groceries and supplies. Tampons are stupid expensive but I want to have a decent supply for when we need them. Also some food.

Made 13$. Gonna need to work more to recoup.

No idea if Angie talked with Guardian. She still thinks I don’t know anythin bout it.

At least, I think she doesn’t. She gets defensive and acts like she doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

I wonder why she does that. Wonder if it’s tied with how I react to her saying she’s found Trevor for the umpteenth time.

Maybe I should press her bout it. But I don’t want to get her worked up over nothin.

Okay that’s enough, my mind’s getting wandering now and I stay up if I do that.

...

Diary 2 Entry 54

Someone showed up with a bunch of robots earlier. Cause quite the commotion, sent people running, the usual.

Apparently he set up shop in the rich quarter and is causing all sorts of troubles. People have been coming to and fro a lot the past few days.

Angie got worried over explosions. Had to calm her down, explain that whatever it was probably wasn’t coming here. She asked me bout the people there and if they needed help - told her that someone would take care of the rich fops. That’s what they do after all. Who gives a shit about two practically orphaned kids.

Not sure if she bought it. Gotta keep an eye on her. Might need to pull an all nighter.

And we don’t have any energy drinks or coffee. I could go grab one, no one is gonna give a shit if I do, not in this current environment.

Gotta stop for now. Gotta focus on Angie not some stupid book.

Entry 55

Angie’s missin

[theyearsiturnedintoaghost]

“But I Wanna Know One Thing When Did I Become a Ghost?”

Sometimes I try to pinpoint the exact day I became a ghost. I go over days and nights and try to decipher if it happened pre or post certain parts of my life. Was it before I finished college? Maybe earlier, maybe the day my parents finally split? Maybe it was the day I realized a boy I loved in my twenties was never going to love me back, and I just needed to focus on myself while life kept unfolding? Was it somewhere in the move across the country to finish college, and try to do something for myself that might better me, that my actual self flew out the window somewhere in Texas, or some other dusty road, and the entire years following were just my ghost years? Or maybe it wasn’t until after I let myself fall so far away from what I remembered myself to be, or what I stood for, or dreams I had, that I shrunk into myself so small and became a walking shell of who I used to be. Maybe it was the day I stood next to someone else at a bar, a different one than the bar I’d left that earlier unrequited love behind at, and thought for the first time in so long ‘is this person perfect?’ while I was introduced to him, and instead of being cool or sweet, or like someone a person would want to talk to - I blabbered on about some snowboarders who had a TV show that this person had never heard of, and I realized in the walking away from that person as a blush rose to my cheeks and my hands shook just enough to let me know that deep down I wanted to cry from my anxiety, that I was just too fucking weird for people, and not just that person, but maybe all people. These same type of ‘outer body’ or anxiety induced conversations and moments just kept happening over and over so I started focus in and realize I was the common denominator and that I must be the cause to my inability to relate to people or not be so fucking weird that I could practically feel their eyes rolling at me while I spoke to them. Clearly, I didn’t become a ghost because of any of these specific moments, but probably due to all of these moments all swirled together with so many others, and also due to my brain makeup and what I imagine is some missed diagnosis from childhood that today would for sure have me on the spectrum. Which, for the record, I’m completely okay with being on. Actually sometimes I think it would give me some kind of ease that maybe I’m not as ‘crazy’ or ‘out there’ as I’ve compared myself to be when I look at other peoples lives of my age. There’s no shame in thinking differently and having to work out how you do think so other people who don’t think the same can sort of understand. So please don’t take that as a cruel joke, or something to be angry at. It’s just me recognizing that people can be different, and sometimes they don’t know the reason for it because they were never seen properly. 

So, I’m not exactly sure of the day I became a ghost - fuck, maybe it wasn’t one of those moments or days specifically, but a lot of days, weeks, or months; full of falling further from who I’d been at seventeen, even twenty-one, or twenty-three, or who I even thought I would be by thirty, that made me disappear from myself one day and just become this person who just existed in the world day to day, but wasn’t actually living. I ate sometimes when I wasn’t trying to disappear fully so clothes would fit me better or boys might think I was beautiful, I laughed when I was supposed to, went on dates like I was trying, got up and went to work like I was supposed to, read a book here and there, binged watched TV shows to have conversations and social interactions with people like normal people do, and tried to convince myself that this was what living was, I guess. Between all of these day to day things and smoking myself to sleep, crushing up pills in private places and snorting them through straws, or dabbling - to put it lightly and politically correct - into cocaine, just to pass the time and make myself feel anything most of the time, I guess vanishing became easy.

Becoming a ghost was easier.

It’s just not exactly clear to me to be able to figure out the exact date and time I fully realized I’d become a ghost. It’s not as easy as like providing an alibi for myself for one specific night, and not because my brain was so hazy and filled with anger, sadness, and drug fueled smoke and pills for most, but not all - and not all at the same time - of the years between twenty to nearly thirty, that I cannot fully recall the moment I fully realized I wasn’t who I remembered myself wanting to be, but really because I think it happened slowly at first, somewhere in between being lonely, living in a place that I kind of had a hard time fitting into, not in terms of the weather or nature, but in making a friend or two or feeling like I wasn’t so... annoying-to-people-based-on-reality-shows New Jersey in a non-New Jersey place, and even if maybe it didn’t fully seem that way to other people, trying to finish school and not feel so old being basically a junior at like twenty-three when every other person I knew had already graduated and was moving to the next levels of their lives - whatever those were - while I was working as many hours as I could to just pay the rent, trying to make a friend in any place - which is really hard for me if I’m being honest. To cut it down to brass tax, I think I’m socially awkward and full of so much anxiety that I either shy away and appear unapproachable, or I let people in too quickly and my heart gets broken by them when I realize I probably care too much for them than they do for me. 

I think I’m just afraid of disappointing people.  So instead I just disappoint myself. 

I let people leave me because it’s easier. Why make them stay when they don’t want to? Why hope they’ll call first when they won’t? Why hope they’ll love me back the way I would have loved them?

It’s easier to let them go on and be happy and just... disappear. 

It’s why I think I let myself slowly start to slip away from who I had been my whole life. Some girl who was hoping for the ‘happy ending’ the ‘good things to come,’ as embarrassing as those things can sound for a person to imagine, the successful life that I sadly felt I would achieve with the promises of getting an education and working hard, but instead was just always left outside of the winners circle.  Not that anyone wins in any of this, but you know what I mean. The truth is, in life - from what I’ve come to understand - there are just people who lose less often than other people. I just got tired of losing, and feeling like I was losing all the time.  I got tired of making it to my twenties and feeling like I was never going to be the girl who would ever become anything or the one that anyone ever actually wanted back.  Sure, I had ‘romantic entanglements,’ if you could call them that, crushes, and drunken kisses, but nothing that it felt like everyone else was so easily able to get.  Boyfriends, flowers on a date night, fucking date nights in general, a birthday party thrown for them; not one they had to put together themselves and hope at least five people would come. The things one may think matters, but don’t - not in the grand scheme of anything that actually does really matter to the world - but these things still add up as years go by, and as I kept getting older and older and it felt like everyone I knew had this laundry list of relationships and ex’s and I was just kind of aware of how... no one has ever asked me out properly on a date or reached over to hold my hand in a crowded room. Or knew the thing I wanted to laugh about in public without me even have to say it.  Those stupid wishful, movie, dream life, fantasy land bullshit things that everyone tells you aren’t real outside of movies, but I just didn’t fully believe because I’d seen my own friends make eye contact with someone they loved across a room and I’d seen that feeling occur in real time. Maybe it wasn’t in a movie script ending kind of way, but it still happened. Small and simple, but it still did happen, and it was probably more beautiful than Hollywood could even fathom or conjure up.

And once I started to kind of realize that this kept occurring to people around me all of the time I just started to think that I was invisible. And soon after I came to realize I was. 

And it isn’t just the relationships that make you feel invisible, it’s the other things everyone around me seemed to be doing or achieving that makes me feel sort of ‘less than.’ People getting - what seems like to a twenty-something - a big fancy office job out of college, or buying a house, travelling with a group of friends multiple times a year.  Fuck, even just having a group of friends, that was actually amazing to me after like twenty-one. I could honestly walk through a store, or down a street and I’m not sure one person may have even noticed if I was there - or if I wasn’t. Even if I did daily routine items like where I bought my coffee or the days I shopped at a grocery store, or when I went for walks or not, I’m not sure if people would notice when I didn’t, or if I ever even did. Even when I was working in the office I got fired from, and commuting day to day, I’m not sure any one on that bus would be able to pick me out a line up even if I took the same 6:50 everyday.  Hell, I’m not sure people who I worked with and spoke to would even notice if I wasn’t there. And when I would wash my hands in the bathroom and the automated sensor wouldn’t even recognize me, I really started to wonder if I wasn’t actually a ghost after all. 

And day in and day out, month in and month out, year in and year out, all of it just started to add up. All the good things that were happening for everyone else - which was something I truly was happy for, despite how fake that sounds typing, like I’m trying to make myself sound like a decent human in hopes someone won’t just think I’m being whiny or jealous, I really was happy for them because I think a person - even some of the worst ones - does really want the people they know and care about to be happy; even if that happiness is seemingly impossible to hold for themselves. Regardless, deep in my heart I know that I was happy for them getting all of their desires, I was just sad I wasn’t getting my own ‘good things,’ or desires. And I felt like I had nothing to talk with people about. Like when I came to their table I was just... the person they knew who wasn’t progressing on any kind of timeline; even my own.

I started to feel ashamed about it. Embarrassed and stuttery about any kind of topic any one might speak to me about. So I sort of just stopped going to people’s tables. I didn’t want to see them look at me out of the corner of their eyes with pity as the thirty-something year old who had no direction, no love life, no career type job, and had not created or accomplished anything; at all.

And in the meantime, in trying not to fail, or having something to speak about that I felt I’d done a good job on or created, It felt like any kind of outlet that I tried to create to promote my own dreams or wishes just kept never hitting the mark. Trying to make a clothing line? Fail. Like even having one of these Tumblr’s years ago for my writing, anything I actually did write was pointless; or at least felt that way. Any story I’d completed, I wished were different or more original. I just kept feeling like other people had done the ‘path’ correct and they were all getting their foot in the door at the right times, and I was just... behind. My lack of being able to commit to a major at school, or even get an office job or internship doing something basic and day to day just didn’t appeal to me.  Not in a way that made me excited for the next thirty years of my life, especially because that’s what I always thought being an adult was. Finding a place to work that allowed you to build a career, and just getting through that until you were able to retire.

I guess I didn’t really think much about the joy in any of it, or what adulthood really held for me that didn’t seem so mundane and boring. Like just something you had to do and there was nothing super exciting about it. By the time I made it to like twenty I kind of realized dreams I’d had since I was younger were already out of question.  I was clearly never going to be that Olympic Gymnastic’s Champion I thought I would at eight - which even as I type this I want to laugh at how farfetched that dream even feels to remember - and the odds of me becoming Georgia O’Keefe, who I dressed up as for a 4th grade biography day - felt impossible, especially since my desire to possibly go to art school after college were kind of laughed off by my family because what are the odds people make any money out of art school? Plus, she mastered flowers, it’s hard to compete with the beauty of that.  And I was clearly never going to be some teen idol movie star or popstar princess. Which was also very far off dreams that I guess I recall having around 14. But I was like twenty-something now, and I’d heard myself sing, it is not good, even just speaking I have a voice most people wish they could unhear, and the most acting I’ve ever done is pretending I was just fine for most of my entire life. Even though I could feel the sadness deep in my chest and gut that felt so heavy and dark I was afraid of even admitting it was there in fear of what other people might think about me, hell, what I might think of myself.  

That’s the thing I’ve learned the most about trying to pinpoint when I became a ghost, I think I always was in some way, I was just never honest with myself about feeling that way. Not until I got much older and everything got out of control, that is.  It’s why I’ve always felt more comfortable in my own space and house. Where I have confidence in myself and my own little secret hiding spots for where I keep the sadness or fears of inadequacy. It’s easier to be me behind closed doors and in the stillness of my bedroom or solitude of my basement. I can be me in places where everyone isn’t watching, or it doesn’t feel like they are. Where I can’t hear them laugh about me as they pass around a group chat or some other joke I’m not privy to. Where they aren’t looking at my messy bun and unfashionable clothing and the smattering of pimples on my chin, or sad eyes and splatting of goofy childish freckles. I don’t feel so odd when I’m alone. It’s when I’m actually around people - especially people who I don’t know, or who have job titles much more important sounding than my name, or people who have travelled all over, or created something beautiful that they are proud of - that I notice how inadequate I feel in their shadows. That any small useless fact that I might know, or place I’ve travelled, and job I’ve held, feels unimportant or less.

I am also aware that a lot of these feelings are just that, feelings, and not actual facts. That these people are probably not actually feeling these things about me, but that’s the way my anxiety and depression feels. It keeps me in the basement of my own heart and mind because it feels safer. Like assuming all of these people already think those things about me will hurt less when I find out they actually do.

And that’s the part that also hurts - a lot - is when you do find out that those people feel and think those things about you. Sometimes you only find out because someone tells you, and sometimes you have to hear them making fun of you behind your back to realize it.  But it hurts all the same. 

And it hurt the most when I was actually actively trying to reorganize my life and try to pull myself up out of my own depression and self induced spiral, and was honestly trying; going to therapy weekly, removing myself from bad places, narrowing down my circle of people, and mostly cocooning myself from the rest of the world outside of throwing myself into a desk job and reading books on my commute to and from said job. I stopped using social media, stopped talking to a lot of people, stopped doing a lot of anything. 

And still I was a joke to people.  Turns out, the people I worked with were just... making fun of me without me knowing. I was trying my best to find a footing and ‘build a career at a company’ or whatever the fuck that really means, and they were just laughing at how uncool I was, or terribly dressed, or the annoying voice I posses. I mean, I understand why they didn’t like me - most of the time prior I barely liked me - but it just sucked to know that even when you were trying to be an okay human, one that wasn’t fucked up all of the time and actively working on yourself two mornings a week where I cried so often about how much everyone hated me and how much of a fuck up I was, hurt so much worse than all the times when I was a teenager and felt like I didn’t fit in. When the mean girl in our neighborhood would invite all the other kids out to play manhunt, but wouldn’t include me. Or the girls in middle school wouldn’t include me because I wasn’t an A-Team soccer player or whatever other bullshit made me weird to them.

Because now I was an adult, who knew she was a ghost for so long, and when I was finally started allowing myself to be seen in any formation - people laughed. It made me wish I’d stayed hidden in my night shift jobs, basement hideouts, and in the comfort of the naps I took that were basically second nights of sleep, just with daylight shining on outside. It felt worse to realize not staying a ghost allowed people to see me, and even then they didn’t like me. 

So I became a ghost, again. I cut off more people, stopped responding to others, asked some of them to stop reaching out to me, and just existed alone. I cried - a lot. In fields with my dog, who then was still a live, in parked cars outside of a job I hated, in the bathroom of that same job when I was constantly messing up and being allowed to have no responsibility, privacy, or final word on anything I did, I also cried in my bed, silently, almost every night as I stared at the ceiling fan spinning above my head and tried to transport myself to another place and time where it hurt less, I felt more secure, and maybe someone, or something, loved me back.  But most of the time when I cried it was for the life I thought I was going to have, the one I realized I was mourning even though I never lived it, and crying for the other part of the person I let myself become which was a person that people at these companies, and ‘friends’ I knew in some parts of my life was a good reason for them to laugh at.  

I cried a lot because I was never able to be someone, but what I think I was really crying for - and still do sometimes - is that I forget when I stopped wanting to be me.

Even the me that people in offices don’t like, or girls in middle school don’t understand. Sometimes I cried because I wished I could like that person more because at least than I’d feel like me. It’s hard to come to terms with that, hard to realize that I’m okay with not being liked by people, but it gets lonely realizing that having people in your life means all they want is for you to change. For you to fit the mold that they are okay with you being or who they would be comfortable bringing around their other friends. Someone who doesn’t laugh at the most inappropriate stuff, or snores in their sleep, or cries at commercials, whose car isn’t a mess, doesn’t hate folding laundry, knows when to call it a night at a bar one drink earlier than I do, or has a clear direction in their life and a slew of opportunities waiting for them at every corner with so many points of contact to makes those opportunities reality. Things for them to talk about at dinner parties or weddings as someone's date. 

Things that people who aren’t ghosts know how to do naturally and effortlessly. 

So I guess the real answer is, no, I don’t know when I actually became a ghost, if it was my whole life, or one morning when I woke up and just thought, ‘none of this is fun anymore,’ none of the getting high, or buzzed, or pretending I’m okay, or doing jobs that don’t make me happy, or never feeling the love of another human in the full ways that I wished I could, but instead tried to ignore and pretend I didn’t desire or want in my life. I’m not really sure when it all happened, I just know that I remember it all happening; slowly in random bouts of progression and over so many minutes of a life I kind of feel I’ve wasted to some extent, and hell, I’m unsure if I’ve ever really stopped fully wanting to be one. Sometimes it just feels easier to move through places and moments alone because it hurts less, somehow. Like it’s easier for everyone else if I just never get too attached to anything in fear that I’ll hurt them, or worse, they’ll break me, again. And I’m really tired of being broken by things that I may have thought were for me, but ended up not being. 

And then there are the random moments where I peak out into the world around me, fully noticed by someone - in a normal everyday running of an errand kind of way - and walk away from a conversation or an event and feel a slight bit of content in my heart that I think maybe it really doesn’t hurt worse than never actually feeling anything fully. It’s an odd catch 22. Wanting to be seen, and being fearful of being seen in fear, on both ends, that you’ll end up broken somehow. 

I’m unsure what any of it fully means, I guess for anyone. Do other people feel that way? Is it just a whole group of us who exist out there and feel - lost? Or scared? Or afraid to be who they actually are in fear that the life they lead now will no longer suit them or make them actually happy? And I know that this must be something people struggle with in terms of sexual orientation, but in a way, even as someone who does not struggle with that and knows I am into a certain sex, I still understand it in the sense that faking who I am feels wrong.  It feels like selling out. Like I’m only living to appease other people, and I wish more times that other people were willing to live to accept other people for who they were; faults and all. Even in this cancel culture world, not everyone is good, and not everyone is bad; people can be so many things, it’s the idealization to put a label on everything that makes things harder I think. We aren’t ingredients in a candy bar for consumption, we’re people - ghosts and all - but we are all allowed to be phases of ourselves sometimes. Sometimes, you have to become what you’re not all of the time to maybe even fully realize who you are, or want to be, most of the time. 

Unsure if any of that makes sense, but I think I’ll have to break it down even further. Maybe next time. In another post, where I don’t ramble on forever and come to no conclusion. This thesis would fail if I had to hand it in for a grade. 

Unless of course it was a scientific experiment hypothesis; and maybe that’s all life really is - one giant cosmic experiment where the rules will forever change and the points don’t really matter. Some giant game of Whose Line is it Anyway?

From one ghost behind a computer to another reading, goodnight.

xoxo

[hyucks-archive]

september 19.

word count: 7,342

genre: fluff

member(s): the one and only lee donghyuck

warning(s): it’s a sort of feel good fic, so unrealism™

author’s note: @haeloce has spoken - ask & you shall be given! this post is dedicated to you my love, thank you for always supporting my works

September 19, 2017.

You look up at the azure sky, the gentle autumn breeze causing your baby hairs to tickle at your face. You close your eyes, breathing in the fresh scent of what you imagine to be of wilting leaves and fresh pumpkins. You shove your hands into the pockets of your block-coloured cardigan; while most prefer to stick to the monochromatic nude colour scheme in the autumn, you like to do the exact opposite. Summer is your season for monochromes, while autumn is your season for colour. There’s just something about contrasting the seasons that you’ve always loved to do.

Pulling out the ticket from your jean pocket, you hold it up against the backdrop – you smile, tilting your head to the side, eyes going back and forth between the photograph printed on the ticket, and the actual, three-dimensional scene in front of you.

“Looks even better than in the picture,” you murmur to yourself, shoulders dropping in satisfaction. You bring your hand down, allowing yourself to really take in the entirety of the one place you’ve hoped to visit for more than half of your life – the Nami Island. It first became popular because it was the filming site for Winter Sonata, but that’s not the reason you’ve always wanted to come. It’s the actual view that you’ve always been drawn to; the tree-lined roads, and the maple and gingko trees that would turn golden red and bright yellow in the fall. Autumn has always been your favourite season, but you’ve never really been able to really drown yourself in the things that are said to define autumn as a season.

You’ve always wanted to visit. But you’ve always only wanted to visit on a September 19th.

Why?

Because you first discovered the existence of Nami Island back in 2008, on September 19. You’re usually not one to care for such things, but when you have close to nothing to really look forward to in life, visiting Nami Island on a future September 19 became the only thing you looked forward to. Yet, it took you a good nine years to get here, because every September 19, you were never able to take an off day from your job at the café.

This year, however, you finally managed to. Granted, you only managed to, because you decided to stop being a beta, and start being an alpha. In other words, you submitted your application for an off day back in January, at the start of the year. It’s only because autumn is the busiest season for the café though. Autumn is the time where everyone rushes in for the pumpkin-flavoured drinks and treats. Autumn is also somehow the season that’s the most associated with coffee.

Placing the ticket in your wallet, you slide your wallet back into your bag, finally ready to begin your exploration of the beautiful island.

As you walk, you’re warmed by the site of numerous families and lovers, who scramble about, trying to get the most scenic shots of the island. There are two toddlers who are fascinated by the squirrel that dashed across the pathway, and another three toddlers who are busy picking at the fallen, dead leaves, while their parents attempt to buy steamed buns as a treat. Further in, there’s a waft of coffee, a scent that is all too familiar to you. You look towards the somewhat populated, hanok-looking café.

The atmosphere is so different from the café you work at. Here, it’s tranquil, there’s beautiful scenery to motivate you, and there’s zero signs of the hustle and bustle of city life (which is something you seriously detest). There aren’t business people who rush in for an americano before zooming out of the door, and there aren’t students who hog the seats to mug for their exams (although, you’ve been guilty of that at some point in your life). It’s just people who are here to really take in the flavour of the coffee, and to appreciate everything about the island.

You decide to buy a cup of tea to-go, just to support the business.

With the warm beverage in hand, you continue to venture further into the island, eventually arriving at a water body at the end of the trail. You look around, scanning the area. It’s even more peaceful here than it was back at the heart of the island; there’s barely anyone here.

You spot a boulder under the tree, so you decide that it’s a sign for you to take a seat, to enjoy your off day, sipping on your cup of tea, while listening to the soft, gentle sounds from the water. You really like this. For more than half of your life, you’ve spent it being overwhelmed by crowds, working ‘till your arms and legs go sore, trying to “get ahead” of everyone else. You’ve always quite liked the feeling of sinking in work, especially labour work, because it takes your mind off of every other thing that went on in your life.

Now that you’re older, and your body isn’t as lively and healthy as it used to be, you’re beginning to learn the importance of taking breaks. Sadly, it’s a little too late. The reputation that you’ve established in the café that you’ve been working at all along, is one of the ‘perfect-worker-who-never-ever-takes-a-day-off-even-when-sick”. You have this whole thing about not disappointing people that’s going on as well.

Sometimes you really hate yourself for it. You scoff – who are you kidding? You always hate yourself for it.

Even the thought of it makes your nose sting and your lips quiver. You blink fast; it’s a technique you’ve come to master, and it works absolutely amazingly when you’re trying to hold back your tears. Not everybody can do this, so you consider it a pretty big talent.

You hear the sound of dead leaves cracking, so you turn your head to the side, where the sound had come from, only to be greeted by a gigantic brown bear, that’s holding a tray of tiny cups, that you assume to be samples from whatever store this bear’s a mascot of. You notice the sunflower that’s pinned to the bear’s chest, reading the text out loud, “Smile! It’s a beary sunny day!”

You break out into a smile, murmuring, “Not the first time I’ve heard that one.”

The bear holds out a tiny cup, allowing you to take a peek at the brown liquid that fills it. “Is this coffee?” you ask, looking up at the face of the bear. It shakes its head, pulling out a card that he had hidden beneath the tray. He passes it to you.

“Try our brand new bear liquid! Contains everything bear-friendly.” You raise a brow, looking back up at the bear, “You know that doesn’t sound very appetising, right? No one’s going to want to drink,” you hold up both hands, gesturing inverted commas as you say, “bear liquid.”

There’s a hint of a shrug from the bear, before it reaches behind itself, bringing out a mini sunflower badge. It holds the sunflower badge out in front of you, gesturing for you to take it. “You guys give sunflower badges for free?” you ask, bringing the badge up close to inspect it. “That’s kind of a good marketing idea, actually,” you say, spotting the name of the café printed at the bottom of the badge. “But it doesn’t seem very cost-efficient,” you continue, poking the needle of the pin through your cardigan, hooking it back in, securing the pin on your left chest.

“Thank you,” you say, patting the bear on its shoulder, “You’re doing a beary good job.”

The bear holds out a thumbs up, turning around to take its leave.

You watch the retreating figure of the bear, wondering how tiring it must be for the person that’s inside the gigantic bear suit. Luckily, it’s autumn, which means cool weather, but it also makes you think about how tiring it must be for the bear in the summer. Getting up onto your two feet, you smile to yourself, “Well, I have nothing to do,” you whisper, allowing the curiosity to take over you as you leap forward, taking hurried footsteps until you spot the bear a short distance ahead of you. “I guess you’ll be my entertainment for the day,” you conclude, grinning widely.

You continue to follow behind the bear, taking cover behind trees whenever it gets stopped by a bunch of kids and their parents who wants a photo with it. It continues to give out the bear liquid, but you also notice that even though it has interacted with more than 50 different people, it hasn’t given out another sunflower badge. You wonder if it’s because it isn’t allowed to give out too many of those, which, obviously, would make sense. Then again, what makes you legible for the sunflower badge, and not the rest?

The thought swims around in your head as you continue to trail behind the brown mascot, the tiny cups of bear liquid slowly reducing in quantity.

You stare at the teddy bear sunflowers that decorate the exterior of the café. “Oh, that makes sense,” you think aloud, finally understanding why the mascot of the café is a big brown bear, along with the sunflower. You take a seat on a wooden bench, crossing a leg over the other, sipping on the tea that’s now cold.

Finally, the bear finishes giving out the samples of bear liquid. You watch as it poses with different children who are so amazed by the big, live-sized, animate bear. You take another big gulp of tea; it must be tiring, not only does it have to wear that heavy, stuffy bear suit, it also has to continuously entertain the tourists that come by every day. Because you’re so engrossed in your own thoughts, you fail to notice that the bear has spotted you. It wonders why you’re here.

“Oh, gosh,” you gasp, body tensing up for a split second. The bear is now suddenly in front of you.

“Hello,” you greet, smiling. The bear bows its head. There’s a pause, then you decide to break the silence with, “Do you talk?”

The bear gestures at its wrist, before folding an arm, resting its chin in its paw, tilting its head to the side questioningly. “You want to know the time?” you gather from its gestures. It nods its head, so you check your watch. “It’s seven thirty-two PM,” you inform. The bear claps its paws excitedly, and you react with a confused smile.

“I can talk now,” he speaks, sitting himself down beside you. “Don’t you have to work?” you ask.

“It’s two minutes past my shift,” he replies.

“Cool,” you say. You lick your lips, pursing them, then deciding that you should ask the question that would get you the answer you’ve been wanting to know. “Hey, can I ask you something?” you start. The bear turns to look at you, “You followed me all the way here just to ask me something?”

“Well, kind of,” you say, “Technically, I derived the question after following you.”

“So you admit you were following me?”

“I didn’t deny it to begin with,” you state nonchalantly. You can hear the bear smirk under his bear head. “You’re honest, I like that,” he says.

“Thanks,” you reply.

“Go ahead,” he cues.

“Why’d you give me a sunflower badge, but not anyone else? I thought this was part of your café’s marketing.” You point at the sunflower that’s still pinned to your cardigan. You hear the bear chuckle under its mask, its body folding forwards as he does so, a sign of amusement. “I gave it to you because I thought you might need it,” he explains, almost matter-of-factly.

You’re slightly stunned by his reply. You think back to the situation earlier – you were busy dwelling in the thoughts that make you feel sad, that by the end of it, you were blinking away tears. Just how much of that did the bear see? You’re uncomfortable just by the thought of it; it doesn’t feel right at all knowing that someone might’ve caught a glimpse of your weakness. You don’t want that. You don’t think you can live knowing that someone potentially saw you struggling.

“But don’t worry,” he begins, as though reading your mind, “I’ve already forgotten everything.”

“That doesn’t really reassure me,” you say, eyeline falling to the ground. The bear leans his body forward, mirroring your position. “It’s human,” he says. Your eyes travel up to look at his bear face. “I get really frustrated sometimes, too. But I don’t go all the way to an offshore island to release the stress,” he pokes, eliciting a small smile from you.

“I didn’t come here specifically to destress,” you share, “I came because I’ve been meaning to come for nine years already. I just only found the chance to now,” you finish.

The bear looks at you through its mesh eyes. When he first spotted you back by the water body, he saw the way your brows knitted, the way your lips quivered, and the way you were quick to blink away your tears. He felt bad for imposing on a moment that seemed so private, but he would feel twice as bad if he had just walked away, pretending like he didn’t see what happened. So he decided to build up the courage to go up to you – it worked out really well that he’s in the bear suit. In fact, it’s working out even better now, because he can stare at you, and you wouldn’t even know. He can sit beside you, talk to you like it’s nothing to him, because all you see, is a big, brown bear.

Still, he can’t deny the slight fluttering in his heart. It’s cliché, and it’s definitely not right. But he can’t deny, that he’s attracted to you. It’s superficial, he knows. But he’s also only going to be able to see you today, and today only. After which, you’d return to the mainland, while he’d remain here, continuing his job as a mascot of the café.

He likes the way you’re smiling fondly, just at the thought of being able to finally visit the island you’ve been longing to visit.

“Do you like the island?” he asks, mentally slapping himself for not being able to come up with a better question.

“Of course,” you say, beaming. “It’s everything I imagined. And,” you pause, “I got to meet a really friendly bear, too.”

His heart does another thing at your declaration. It’s foolish, he’s well aware. But again, tonight’s his only chance to experience this. Then, you’d be gone, and he’d be back to his regular daily routine.

“Do you live on Nami island?” you ask.

“I don’t. I take the first ferry here every morning, and the last ferry back every night. The pay is good, so I don’t mind the tedious travelling,” he shares. “Wouldn’t you rather just live on this island?” you question. “Do you know how expensive that is?” he replies.

You shrug, “Wouldn’t your total expenses spent on travelling equate to renting a place here?”

“I travel for free,” he says, “The boss pays for that. I bring in customers by wagging my bear butt, so it’s a fair exchange.”

You laugh, amused by the way the bear phrases its words.

“Must be nice,” you say.

“What about you? You look like a student, so I’m assuming you work part-time?”

The bear notes the smile you force out. He can see the slight bitterness peeking from your eyes. He mentally slaps himself a second time – he must’ve said something wrong.

“I’m actually taking a gap year right now,” you share, “So I’m working full time, to save up for school.”

He understands now. It’s odd, to say the least. He feels a form of connection with you, even though he knows this’ll never come to fruition. Still, even if it’s just for tonight, he’d like to be able to just talk about what he’s been bottling up for the last few years with someone. Even better, that this someone is someone he mildly feels attracted to, and whom will go back to being a stranger after the conversation.

“Somehow, you’ll feel that whatever you make, it’s never enough,” he begins, turning his bear face away. You wait for him to continue.

“No matter how much I earn, it’s not enough. I was once naïve enough to think that I’d be able to eventually fund myself to do the things I want to do, but as I’m ageing, I’m starting to understand that that’s not possible. It’s all fiction. Fantasy. It’s all what I conjure up in my head.”

Your shoulders sink upon hearing what he has to say. Why does it seem to hit the exact points? Why do you seem to be able to relate to his plight? In other words, there are other people out there, dealing with the exact same things as you?

“Don’t say that,” you manage out, trying to think as positively as possible for the both of you. “Money doesn’t buy happiness.”

The bear turns to face you, tone serious as he says, “Yeah, money doesn’t buy happiness. But money buys you the things that make you happy.”

You feel a sting in your heart. You’ve always tried to psycho yourself into believing that what you’re going through isn’t so bad. That you’d still be able to be happy, because money doesn’t buy anyone happiness. Because of that, you’d always feel guilty for not being able to find contentment in your situation. You thought it just meant you’re greedy.

You realise now, it doesn’t.

You try your best to paint on a smile. But the bear knows well enough that it’s all pretence. He wishes you didn’t have to try so hard to be okay. At least, not in front of him.

“Who knows where we’d be a year from now? We might even be doing the things we like,” you say, feigning a tone of excitement.

“We wouldn’t know where each other is a year from now,” the bear says.

“Will you still be working here, a year from now?” you ask.

“I’ve been here for six years now.”

“It must’ve been cute, to be able to see a bear mascot getting taller every year,” you comment, lightening the mood. You can hear the bear smile, which makes you smile in return. The bear’s heart does another flip.

“Anyway,” you say, “How about I see you, a year from now, right here?”

The bear’s breath stops for a moment – are you for real?

“Really?” he asks. You nod your head. “Really.”

“Okay,” he agrees, though you can’t see the goofy grin on his face.

“What’s your name?” you ask, only realising now that you’ve basically revealed just about everything about yourself to him, excluding your name, yet you don’t even know what he looks like under that bear mask.

“Donghyuck. Lee Donghyuck.”

“Donghyuck,” you repeat after him, smiling, “Nice name,” you say, telling him your name in exchange. “So Donghyuck,” you say, getting up from the bench. “A year from now, I hope I can walk away with my memory of you, not being a bear.”

Donghyuck chuckles, agreeing.

“See you in a year, y/n.”

September 19, 2018.

You hold the bag of carp bread to your chest, your heart filled with excitement. You’ve practically anticipated for the entire of 2018, for the 19th of September to come. It’s interesting how just one conversation, of course, filled with mutual understanding and relatability, had created such a connection between you and Donghyuck.

There hasn’t been a day where you didn’t find yourself thinking about Donghyuck. You’d wonder if he had earned enough to do something he likes. You’d wonder if he’s staying adequately hydrated despite the scorching sun. You’d even wonder, if he still remembers his promise with you. A part of you is obviously afraid that after making a trip down to Nami island, that the boy in the bear suit would’ve completely forgotten about you. A part of you is afraid that when you greet him with a smile, he’d look at you with confused eyes, questioning how you know of him.

Then again, an even bigger part of you is simply hopping around in absolute joy at the mere thought of being able to reunite with a friend. You’ve never been able to meet anyone that could relate to you, the way Donghyuck can.

Upon arrival on the island, you rush off the ferry, immediately heading towards the café he works at. It’s close to 5PM in the evening. You were held up at work, because your boss had insisted that you at least take the morning shift, which made you jittery the whole day because you weren’t sure if you’d be able to make it. Luckily, it wasn’t that busy today, so you were even let off ten minutes prior to the end of your shift.

Just as the café comes into view, you spot the giant bear hobbling about, playing around with the group of kids. You immediately break out into a bright smile, a sense of relief washing over you. At the very least, he’s still here, like he said he’d be.

You bring up the bag of carp bread – will Donghyuck like this?

Donghyuck smiles at the adorable children who are rushing to cuddle him. He isn’t sure of the exact time, but he can tell that more than half of the day has gone by, and there is still no sign of you. He’s beginning to think that maybe he shouldn’t have been so naïve in the first place, gullible enough to think that a random stranger would actually come all the way back to the island just to meet with him again.

Heck, he’s in a bear suit. Nobody’s ever going to like a person that’s in a bear suit.

“Look here,” a mother coos, holding up her camera. Donghyuck bends down beside the child, holding him close as the mother begins to snap numerous shots of her baby son. “Thank you,” the mother says, reaching for her child as she presses a loving kiss to his forehead, gushing as she whispers praises to her little boy. Donghyuck has a pursed smile on his face; must be nice for that kid.

Donghyuck isn’t given the chance to dwell on the topic because a rush of kids come by, screaming and yelling excitedly at the sight of the bear. He joins in, chasing the kids around, and that is when he spots the one person he’s been waiting for (a whole year).

You’re standing there, a bag in hand. He isn’t even able to control the smile that spreads across his face.

“Hey!” a child shouts, tugging at Donghyuck’s bear leg.

You bring the bag of carp bread back to your side, smiling widely as you make your way towards the bear. As though working in your favour, the kids begin to clear just as you approach your friend. You give a small wave, your heartbeat picking pace in fear that he might not remember you. Just as quickly, though, your heartbeat slows when he returns the wave. He points at the wooden bench that you were seated on a year ago, and you get what he’s trying to say immediately.

You head over to the bench first, taking a seat as Donghyuck poses for a few more pictures with different children.

Once he’s done, he jogs over, stopping a small distance in front of you.

“Look what I brought!” you say excitedly, waving the bag in the air. “It’s carp bread, because bears eat fish,” you giggle. You thought you were really witty to have thought of such an idea.

Donghyuck chuckles. Now it’s his turn to feel nervous, because he’s going to have to remove his bear suit to reveal himself, like he promised.

“Are you going to change out of that?” you ask, looking on with anticipation.

“I’ll be right back,” he says.

You wait patiently for the boy to return. He does, within five minutes. He tries to soothe his hair down as he approaches you, moistening his lips with his saliva, tugging at the end of his hoodie to make sure he looks decently presentable.

You look up, meeting eyes with a tanned skin, lean-looking boy, who is making his way towards you. You raise both brows – is that Donghyuck?

Sure enough, the boy stops just in front of you, scratching the back of his head in an attempt to let out his nerves. He smiles shyly, formally introducing, “Hi. I’m the boy in the bear suit.”

Your encouraging smile calms Donghyuck’s active nerves. He looks at you in the eyes, the same feeling of attraction he had felt a year ago, still evidently present a year later. He wonders if you feel it too.

“You know, you kind of look like a bear,” you comment, eyeing Donghyuck up and down. He rolls his eyes in response, scrunching his nose, “I don’t.”

“Here,” you say, holding out the bag of carp bread. “Eat your fish.”

Donghyuck scoffs, feigning offence, before taking the bag from you, and taking a seat on the bench, gesturing for you to sit beside him. He brings out a carp bread, splitting it down the middle. He hands you a half, and you take it graciously, biting a chunk off. “So how has your year been?” you start off, still in a little bit of disbelief that this is how Lee Donghyuck looks like.

For a whole year, the only image you’ve had of him, was the brown bear suit, with the sunflower badge. Even when you tried to imagine what he looks like under the mask; you’ve never came to the visual image of the being before you. He’s good looking, obviously, and by that, you mean that he’s way better looking than you had imagined him to be. There’s something that’s just really cute about his small little button nose, his doe eyes, and his round face.

“What you said was true,” he says, swallowing. “2017-me would’ve never been able to guess where I’d be a year later,” he continues, “I’m learning how to dance.”

You smile in pleasure, “I’m so happy to hear that.”

Donghyuck returns the smile. “What did you do for the past year?”

“I saved,” you say, smiling proudly. “I saved enough for now, so if I keep the momentum going, I’d have enough for university, too.”

“Then I guess it’s mandatory for me to tell you that you’re doing a great job,” he commends.

You feel something stirring in your heart. You’ve never been told that before. It feels funny, now that you’ve heard it. Donghyuck notices the change in your expression, and somehow, he knows the reason why.

“You can always come to me to brag and show off,” he says, tone gentle and encouraging. “I’ll always tell you how you’re doing a good job.”

You look at Donghyuck, meeting his eyes. He’s sending you signals of comfort through his gaze, and you’re receiving them well. Somehow, it’s only the second time you’re having a conversation with him, and it’s the first where you’re looking at the actual him. Yet, it feels as though he’s impacted your life even more than the people who’ve been in it for way more than he has.

“Want to know a secret?” you ask. Donghyuck nods his head.

“Back when I was younger, I was walking beside a classmate in school. We were about to go down the stairs, but she tripped on her own shoelace. She rolled down the stairs, and laid unconscious,” you recall, letting out a deep sigh at the end. Donghyuck looks at you with a brow raised, “And?” he prompts, urging you to continue.

“You’d think my first reaction would be pure concern for that classmate,” you say, focusing on the dead leaves that decorate the ground. You kick at a maple leaf, “But it wasn’t. When I saw the way everyone rushed forward, all attention on her, I thought to myself, ‘why wasn’t I the one who rolled down the stairs?’,” you take a pause, turning to read Donghyuck’s expression. He doesn’t seem to have any real thoughts about what you said.

“Twisted, right?” you end off with a pursed smile.

“No,” he states, taking another bite of his carp bread, completely unfazed.

“No?” you repeat.

“No,” he reiterates.

“Why not?” you question.

“Because,” he says, “It’s not abnormal to think that way.”

“You don’t have to side with me just because we are friends, you know?”

“I’m not. I just think that it isn’t crazy weird why you thought that way.” He says, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s kind of like how it is in my dance class. There’s this guy, his name is Jisung. He’s younger by two years, but his talent is more than double of mine. He gets a lot of love and attention for being the youngest of the team, and for being the talent that he is. Sometimes, when I see the way he gets praised for executing a move really well, I’d think to myself, ‘why wasn’t I the one being praised? I thought I did the move pretty well’.”

You chuckle at his kind attempt to try to make it seem as though what you had thought at the time was normal, though the circumstances are obviously far from being similar. Donghyuck is sweet, to say the least.

“I’m sure you dance well,” you say, eyeing his long legs, “You look like you’d dance well,” you correct.

“I’m serious about what I said though,” he says, reverting the topic, referring to how he’d be willing to listen to you brag any time.

“I might just take you up on the offer,” you reply, “As long as it remains valid, for a long, long time.”

“Are you trying to tell me to stay in contact with you?” he questions.

“You mean you didn’t intend to?” you raise a brow.

“You’d know where to find me when you need me, but I can’t say the same for myself for when I want to see you,” Donghyuck says, looking at you expectantly. Can you take that as a confession? Did he just say that he wants to see you?

Then again, so what if it is a confession?

You’re well aware of how you feel about the boy. You know that there’s a connection. You know that sparks are flying. You know. You know it all too well. But how can you be sure that Donghyuck is meant to be something more? You met him under circumstances that most wouldn’t even consider normal, and it’s barely the second time you’re talking to him. How can you be so sure, that he’s supposed to mean something more to you? How can you be sure that you’re only feeling this way, that you’re only feeling the butterflies and the somersaults inside you, because you’re truly attracted to him, and not because of how he makes you feel?

He makes you feel understood. That’s unfamiliar to you.

“Please,” you begin, in an attempt to try to brush off what he had said. “I kind of like that we see each other once a year.”

Donghyuck feels a light sting in his heart. “Why?” he asks.

“It makes our friendship special. How many people can say that they know of someone, who becomes their friend, on only one day out of the entire year?”

Donghyuck fakes a smile, “So you’ll be back in a year?”

“Yes.”

Donghyuck nods his head. Maybe he should just be happy that this means he’ll get to see you, at least another time, a year from now.

He shouldn’t be too greedy, right?

September 19, 2019.

It’s the third time that you’re going to be meeting Donghyuck. You’re starting to kind of understand what people mean by ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’. Oddly enough, in the past year, Donghyuck wasn’t just a passing thought like he was in 2018. This year, he was quite a prominent thought. Sometimes, you’d even have sleepless nights, spent tossing and turning, just thinking about him. You’ve even gotten the urge to just go online to search for him, but there are so many Lee Donghyucks in the world, that you weren’t sure if you’d be able to find the exact one. It would also be a breach of your friendship terms, since the both of you are supposed to only rekindle every September 19th.

Today, you managed to take the full day off. You check your watch – it’s 10:47AM. Why have you arrived at Nami island at such an early hour? Knowing fully well that Donghyuck has a shift to fulfil?

Simple.

You miss him. A lot more than you’d like to admit.

Sounds silly, you’re obviously aware. How can you develop feelings for someone that you only see once a year, and that you barely know?

You’d like to think it’s just because of how curious you are as a person, which results in constantly being curious about Donghyuck. But again, that’s just you trying to talk yourself into denial. No matter what you say, you can’t deny that you’ve debated over fifty times about coming to Nami island before the 19th of September, knowing fully well, that he’d be here.

But every time you were about to purchase the ferry ticket, you’d stop yourself.

A year may have gone by, but the same worry still remains.

How can you be sure, that his presence in your life, is meant to be something more?

“Hey!”

Your attention snaps up to the familiar voice, the voice you’ve only been able to think of for the past year.

“Donghyuck?” you murmur. He isn’t in his bear suit today.

He dons a bright smile, jogging over towards you. “We must have more telepathy than we’re aware of,” he comments, chuckling to himself. You can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips as you ask, “You’re not working today?”

“I took the day off,” he says. “I didn’t think you’d actually come this early, though.”

“And what if I didn’t?”

“I would’ve sat at that wooden bench until you showed up.”

His non-hesitance as he said that elicits a feeling of warmth to spread through your entire body. Donghyuck really makes you feel things, huh?

“You’d do that?” you ask, just so you can hear it loud and clear. Donghyuck smiles, nodding his head. “You would’ve done the same. Otherwise, what did you intend to do while waiting for me to end my shift if I were working today?”

Your smile only widens.

“What do you have planned for the day?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he replies.

“Shall we find somewhere to sit and eat then?” you suggest.

So five hours later, you’re seated opposite Donghyuck, empty plates and half-empty cups between the both of you. He has his arms propped on the table, listening intently to whatever you had to say. Conversation is easy when it comes to Donghyuck. He shows you that he’s listening. He makes sure to pay attention to what you say.

You feel the connection growing by the minute.

“That doesn’t justify why you’ve never dated anyone before,” he says, shaking his head disapprovingly as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Says you,” you retort, “But I’m sure if I showed my co-worker a picture of you, she’d go crazy.”

Donghyuck chuckles, “You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not!” you defend, trying to put on the most serious expression you can possibly make. “She’s cute too. Come to think of it, she’s totally your type.”

Donghyuck furrows his brows. “What makes you think I’m into cute?”

You smile, rolling your eyes. “Okay, then what is your type?”

“Shouldn’t you know best?”

Silence.

Donghyuck’s just staring into your eyes.

Your heart is thumping so hard, so fast, you’re starting to lose feeling in your hands and legs.

You let out an awkward laugh – there’s no denying it this time. It’s definitely a confession.

“Very funny,” you say, trying to change the topic. “I have to leave already, I’m working a full-day shift tomorrow and I’m in charge of opening,” you say, getting up from your seat. Donghyuck follows after, allowing you to lead the way out of the eatery.

“Hey,” Donghyuck calls, taking your wrist in his warm hold, turning you around to face him. “Don’t you think it’s about time to tell me where you work? Or where I can locate you? Or your number, at the very least?”

You’re looking into Donghyuck’s eyes, and you can see the sincerity. Like him, you want this to be something more. But you can’t just turn a blind eye and rid the fact that you’re just not sure of what might happen in the future, and that’s what scares you. You don’t want to commit to something, at the expense of knowing all too well, that you might get hurt. What if Donghyuck was never meant to be a part of your life? You’ve seen it in the movies – when you let someone in, and they weren’t supposed to be in to begin with, it only ends in tears and sorrow.

“Look, Donghyuck,” you begin, trying your best to think of a way to get your point across accurately.

“What makes you so sure that we’re meant to be something more?” you ask.

Donghyuck’s brow twitches, a sign that he’s taken aback by your question.

“See? You don’t know it yourself. What if we commit, and it just bites us in the back?”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his hair, “How would you know that?” he counters, “What if it doesn’t?”

The both of you just stand there, looking into each other’s eyes, trying to find the answer you’re both looking for.

“I believe in fate,” you say, breaking the eye contact. “On September 19, a year from now, I’ll be working at the café,” you continue, eyes finding its way to meet Donghyuck’s once more. “It’s located in Seoul. If, on that day, on the 19th of September, 2020, you’re able to somehow find me, I’ll take it as the sign that you and I are meant to be something more.”

Donghyuck furrows his brows at your proposition, “But Seoul is so big, how am I supposed to-”

“If you can’t find me, it just means that’s the end of our connection,” you cut in. “And you can’t cheat. You can only start looking on September 19.”

Donghyuck thinks it’s the end. He doesn’t think it’s possible. But if he wants this enough, he’s going to have to try.

“Promise?” you ask, putting out your pinkie finger.

“I promise,” he says, hooking his finger with yours, pressing your thumbs together.

What’s going to happen a year from now?

September 19, 2020.

“Here you go, enjoy your drink,” you greet, passing the iced americano to the man in the suit. He tilts his head in gratitude, before scurrying out the door. You take a moment to stare at the door, it’s going to be afternoon soon, and there’s still no sign of Donghyuck. You wonder if he’s even taken up the challenge, and is actually going about Seoul right now.

“Why do you keep staring at the door today? Are you waiting for someone?” Eunha, your co-worker, asks. You shake your head, shrugging, “I just can’t wait to knock off, that’s all,” you lie. Eunha furrows her brows teasingly, leaning in close as she says, “Please, I’ve worked with you for years now. That isn’t your ‘I-can’t-wait-to-knock-off’ look,” she says, pulling back.

You roll your eyes, hitting her on the arm lightly, before re-busying yourself with preparing the orders of the customers.

Another few hours go by, and now, the sun is beginning to set.

“You’re staring at the door again,” Eunha lilts, a teasing smile on her face as she sips at her coffee. “Stop, I’m really just excited to knock off soon,” you say.

“If you want to knock off so bad, you can knock off now,” she says, placing her coffee down on the counter. “I’m cool with closing on my own tonight.” She blinks her big eyes a few times, smiling teasingly, knowing that you’d deny her offer.

“I can’t do that to you,” you say, laughing awkwardly, “Think about all the times you sacrificed your nights staying with me for closing. I ought to return the favour.”

“Ought?” Eunha repeats, giggling to herself. “You’re definitely hiding something.”

You roll your eyes, moving on to do the dishes to avoid slipping up any further.

Donghyuck sighs, coming out of the eighth café he’s looked into today. As expected, this is basically mission impossible. How is he supposed to be able to find you, when you didn’t even bother with giving him any clue aside from that it’s located in Seoul?

He looks around, trying to spot any other cafés that might be in the area, before he’d move on to the next.

There’s still a good few hours before the end of September 19.

He might still have a chance.

You bite down on your lip. It’s five minutes to closing.

“I guess we weren’t meant to be,” you murmur, eyes refusing to leave the doors.

“Whoever it is you’re waiting for, they’ll show up,” Eunha chimes in, continuing to wipe down the counter.

“What makes you so sure?” you ask.

“Because it’s my first time seeing you anticipate something like that,” she says. Eunha might not be someone you contact outside of work, so it’s easy to forget how well she knows you. But Eunha is right. You've never anticipated anything this much.

“I hope you’re right,” you say, pursing your lips.

You didn’t know it a year ago when you made the proposition, but you know it now.

You really want to see Lee Donghyuck walking through those doors.

But as the time slowly dwindles away, you can’t be sure that it isn’t just your own wishful thinking.

Donghyuck kicks at the pavement, running a hand through his hair. The day is almost over, and still, no luck. He has been to eighteen different cafés already, and there’s just no sign of you.

If only he didn’t have to work the morning shift, then he’d have more time to actually look in more cafés.

He stops a short distance in front of the nineteenth café. He isn’t usually one to believe in anything like fate, but he’s desperate at this point. He looks to the sky, clasping his hands together, “Please. Make 19 our special number. Please let y/n be in this café.”

Taking in a deep breath, Donghyuck walks forward, towards the café.

Eunha checks the time, then looks over at you. You're sitting there, dazed, expression blank. She purses her lips in sympathy, calling out, “Do you want me to lock the doors or wait another f-”

Eunha is cut off when the bell chimes. You immediately turn towards the entrance of the café.

It's Donghyuck.

Oh gosh, it's actually Donghyuck.

Donghyuck makes eye contact with you. A sense of accomplishment and warmth overwhelms him. You feel your nose stinging, and your heart swelling.

“Sorry, we’re cl-”

You don’t know what comes over you, but you run forward. You throw yourself into Donghyuck’s arms, hugging him tight.

“Okay then, I’ll be over there,” Eunha says, excusing herself.

You pull away.

“You found me,” you sniff, grinning wide.

“I promised I would,” Donghyuck replies, reflecting your expression.

“I guess we are really meant for something more,” you mumble, taking in the moment.

“So,” Donghyuck says, holding out his phone. “Can I finally have your number?”

[cauliflowercounty]

Gone Too Far? (Fred Weasley x fem!Reader)

House: Gryffindor

Blood Status: You Choose

Warning: Light swearing, some suggestive moments

A/N: Youre in an established relationship with Fred

——

Fred and George have been on a major hot streak. The pranks were glorious and the castle had been in mayhem for the last week, which the twins basked in gleefully and your heart filled with warmth seeing Fred so happy and satisfied with his schemes.

It was obvious who the pranks had been orchestrated by, but the twins were masters of their craft, working with a couple of other trusted Gryffindors to create air-tight alibis and complex game plans, so it was impossible to provide evidence that it was them other than “of course it was the twins!”

This round of pranks all started when the twins decided to get under the Slytherin team’s skin before the upcoming quidditch match. Gryffindor would be playing Slytherin and Draco Malfoy had been targeting Harry as of late to get him off his game.

In order to even the playing field, the twins enchanted all the statues in the castle to shout insults about Draco Malfoy whenever anyone passed them, earning cheers from everyone not in Slytherin. Some of the favorites of the student body were “Draco Malfoy is a deviled old twat” and “Draco Malfoy’s wig is made of treated Sasquatch hair.”

The statues were finally silenced once the statue of the architect of Hogwarts in the front hall shouted that Draco Malfoy was “a bigoted mother fucking daddy’s boy,” which Professor Snape heard loud and clear while discussing the upcoming Quidditch match with Professor McGonagall. Snape quickly silenced the statue and set off to deal with all the others, leaving McGonagall with a small smile on her face.

Next, Fred and George set to messing with the whole team and had sent fraudulent report cards in unmarked envelopes that would read aloud the fake abysmal grades they’d written in them to all the members of the Slytherin quidditch team. Fred and George also sent them to all the Slytherins in Harry’s year for kicks, in order to freak them out, too. This, earned the slytherins a lot of unwanted attention and resulted in all of them wasting about two hours going to their professors, trying to resolve their grades only to find they were fake while Fred and George snickered in the corner and the Gryffindor team booked extra practice time while their opposition was distracted.

Additionally, the twins had charmed all the food at the Slytherin table to turn into ash in peoples mouths and the pumpkin juice to disappear during breakfast among other things.

The last incident was the grandest that had yielded exactly what the twins wanted, but also ended up unintentionally landing you in a 3 week long detention with Snape.

The Slytherin quidditch team had finally been able to book a practice on the Tuesday before the game this upcoming Saturday. The Slytherins has been relieved that they were able to book the pitch since the twins had been putting obstacles in their way for the last week. Their relief was short lived; the twins had arrived at the pitch two hours before Slytherins’ time slot and enchanted all the equipment.

Upon releasing the bludgers, things seemed normal at first until the quaffle started to turn red hot in the chasers’ hands each time someone caught it, causing the player to drop it and yelp in pain.

The bludgers were normal, until Crabbe and Goyle started hitting them. Each time a bludgers came in contact with the bat, the bludgers would split in two. This went unnoticed by the two beaters until all 16 of the bludgers decided to hurl themselves at the team captain, intimately causing him to flee. This resulted in Draco Malfoy losing sight of the snitch, but once he realized what had happened, catching the snitch was the least of his problems.

The snitch on the other hand, had grown to be about a meter in diameter, but it kept its old flight pattern and started to zip around the pitch, cutting into the stands with its wings, which were now blades of destruction. It hurled through the air, nearly knocking all the players off their brooms.

This turn of events made the whole team to abandoned practice and return to the castle and find Professor Snape, knowing full well the twins were behind this. Hopefully Snape would be able to take points at the very least or have them banned at the upcoming match, making the Gryffindor team to have no choice but to forfeit.

As the Slytherins rushed into the changing rooms to escape the gargantuan death snitch, Fred and George popped out from the changing stalls and confunded all of them I order to ensure this couldn’t be traced back to them, making a quick getaway.

After being confunded, none of the Slytherins remembered who was at fault for the outcome of practice, but passed by you studying for Transfiguration on their way to tell Snape what had happened, resulting in you being blamed for the mayhem since you were the last face they saw. This earned your three month detention and lost Gryffindor 50 points.

You knew it had been Fred and George who executed the prank. Most people if they wanted to mess with another team would dye something a different color or perform an easily reversed transfiguration, but charming all the equipment to produce a quidditch practice from hell reeked of Fred Weasley and seeing Fred Weasley’s face after you had your talking to from Professor Snape said it all.

Because of that, you and Fred aren’t talking currently, which was mostly the fault of Fred since he was suddenly to shy to come up and apologize. Maybe it was the look of death you have him after you saw his face? You desperately wanted to talk to him, but he was avoiding you at all costs.

Otherwise, the final days leading up to the game were wonderful. Now, you’re sitting at the Gryffindor table with Harry, Hermione, and Ron, trying to get Harry psyched up.

“Come on, mate,” Ron says, pushing Harry’s plate toward him. “You gotta eat something. I haven’t seen you like this since your first quidditch match ever.”

“I’m just concerned about this time. Malfoy wants blood this time, especially this time since Fred and George have been merciless as of late,” Harry groans, shoving his head into his hands.

“But you gotta admit... Fred and George got him good. That statue moment was priceless,” Ron laughs. “Speaking of Freddie, are you taking with him again, y/n?”

“No,” you reply, “and it’s not my fault. He hasn’t spoken to me since I came out of Snape’s office. It’s too bad. I miss Freddie. I’m not even that mad at him anymore....”

Hermione raises her eyebrows at that comment. “Not mad at him?” she scoffs. “I’m not buying it, y/n. You were livid at him.”

“Well, that was only for 2 seconds. I can’t stay mad at that face,” you sigh, earning a fake barf noise from Ron. You roll you eyes at his reaction. “he did land me in Snape’s detention of all detentions for 3 weeks and lost us all valuable points. Now Ravenclaw is in the lead for house cup,” you explain, “but I’m over that. I want Freddie back.”

You smile, thinking about Fred and your late night conversations in the common room until 3am and the way he families when you laugh at his jokes. You sigh, hoping he’ll get over himself soon.

“Harry, eat something,” you say quickly, eager to change the conversation as you snap out for your day dream. “If you say Draco wants blood, you should eat so he doesn’t have the upper hand to begin with.”

You look over to the Slytherin table and they’re all horking down food like there’s no tomorrow.

“... also I think Crabbe and Goyle just ate a full chicken each,” you whisper, trying to look away from the two slytherin beaters with chicken fat smeared on their hands, face, and uniform. Your friends hiss at the sight and divert their eyes.

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Hermione smiles.

“Yeah,” you join in. “You’ve always been the better seeker.”

Harry nods in thanks and returns to his food, eating this time as you all hope for victory this afternoon.

~

“HARRY POTTER HAS SEEN THE SNITCH! He’s gaining in it and- Ooh! Draco Malfoy has just rammed into him from the side, pushing Potter off course! Now he’s after the snitch- Malfoy should really learn to find the snitch himself, lazy ass-“

“JORDAN!” McGonagall scolds angrily, glaring at Lee.

“Sorry, Professor! It just comes out!” Lee defends, but McGonagall shoots him a look of pure irritation. Turning back to the game, Lee stammers, “I-I mean... it won’t happen again! Potter and Malfoy are neck and neck! Fred Weasley deflects a bludgers header for his seeker! And now the seeker go into a dive! This is gonna be close!”

“GO HARRY!!” You shout as you watch Harry plummet towards the ground, swiftly pulling up inches above the ground.

The seekers fly forward, arms outstretched. From behind, a bludgers heads for Malfoy, knocking him forwards off his broom. As he falls, Malfoy grabs onto Harry’s robes and pulls him down to the ground with him. Both of them hit the ground, kicking up a large cloud of dust on impact. A resounding chorus of oohs euros from the crowd. That must have hurt.

“And the seekers WIPE OUT!” Lee shouts, nearly leaning over the edge of the stands too far in order to get a good look.

As the dust clears, the crowd mourners and a figure emerges. It’s Harry, holding the fluttering, struggling snitch between his fingers.

The Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw stands erupt in joyous cheers at Slytherin’s loss. Groans and angry shouts fill the Slytherin stands as Draco Malfoy, holding his arm limps forward and angrily kicks his broomstick, bitter and jealous of Harry basking in the glory of a Gryffindor victory.

You sneak a look at your Freddie. He’s bumping bats with George, a gleeful smile on his face, knowing his pranks and psychological warfare paid off. Fred looks down to the stands, and his eyes scan for you. You smile as you lock eyes. A dopey grin breaks in his face as he realizes that your smile is directed at him. You wave to him, calling him over as the Gryffindors next to you clear stands to get to the after party in the common room that’s sure to last late into the night with streamers, confetti, loud radio music, and endless butter beer.

“Hi, Freddie,” you call as he pulls up in front of you on his Cleansweep.

“Hi..,” he respond, a little on edge since this is the first time he’s said anything to you in days. Fred knew it was wrong to ghost you after the incident, but the longer he waited, the harder it got to say something to you again. “Y/n- I’m so-”

You giggle as he starts. “It’s okay, Freddie. I’m not mad anymore,” you explain with a comforting look.

“Please! I just messed up and I didn’t know that the charm would-”

“Fred! I’m not mad at you! You don’t need to make a speech!” You clarify, reaching out to him. Surprised, he nods and touches down in the stands next to you. He demounts and sits next to you. Folding his hands into yours, you lean on his chest and he smiles at the closeness. He’d missed you more than he’s care to admit.

“How come you’re not mad at me? I landed you in detention.. with Snape!” he says, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Don’t remind me,” you shush, putting a finger to his lips. “All I wanted was a quick apology from you. Detention is a small price to pay.”

“You you think Georgie and I went overboard?” He asks you. “With the pranks?”

“If you didn’t go overboard, I’d be concerned,” you joke, learning you a small kiss. “It’s not like you to just half-ass a prank.”

“How do you even stand all my nonsense?” he asks, pulling you closer to him.

“It’s one of my many talents,” you quip. “And I love you. Now, go get changed, Mister Weasley. You smell like quidditch and we should be heading to the common room to celebrate your victory.”

He nods and grabs his broom.

“Come on,” he says, motioning for you to climb on behind him. You look at him incredulously. “I’m not letting you walk down all those stairs when it’s easier for you to hop on as I fly to the changing rooms. Get on, love. I don’t bite.”

“You,” you start, pointing at him, “know that’s an absolute lie, Fred Weasley. Remember that one time in that broom cupboard? And you just couldn’t-”

“Of course not! I cold too forget that,” Fred interrups, with a smirk. “I also happened to remembered we both agreed on a continuation of that encounter, but a follow up never happened...”

“Okay, okay, Freddie. Later,” you smile, climbing into the broom behind him and wrapping your arms around him. With a hearty Fred Weasley laugh he kicks off and you both fly off towards the changing rooms where he drops you off. As he heads in to change, you call to him that you’ll wait for him.

He shouts back, “no need to, love!”

You wait anyway. He smiles as he comes out with disheveled hair from changing, spotting you. He told his eyes as if to say “I can’t believe you waited again,” even though he loves that you sit and wait for him, and he takes your hand as you place a kiss on his lips. He returns the kiss immediately and holds you closely.

Breaking away reluctantly, you whisper “never leave me alone like that ever again, Freddie.”

“I don’t plan on it, y/n,” he smiles back, packing your cheek and pulling you toward the castle for the Gryffindor house party.

[dweetwise]

yes hello, i’m back on my riconti bullshit again, this time with a cute prompt fill from @dailyau by @hcpelesshcney about fire alarms and sharing a blanket ❤️

i’m also trying something new with splitting a fic into chapters!

ship: felix x ace warnings: briefly mentioned internalized homophobia word count: 3700

[next]

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire (part 1)

It's surprising just how scattered the human brain becomes during a crisis.

When Felix was woken from his restless sleep in the hotel bed by a blaring fire alarm, he'd bolted out of the bed and scrambled out into the hallway without second thought. He'd probably even left the door to his room wide open, with his wallet, passport, phone and laptop all neatly arranged on the desk for anyone to walk by and steal.

And now he's standing in the parking lot in the chilly late summer night, dressed in nothing but his pajama pants and a t-shirt. His socks were drenched as soon as he stepped outside, running straight into a puddle while hurrying to get away from the potential fire.

At least he's not alone in the stressful predicament. There's plenty of other people around, looking just as lost and dazed as him, having been forced to evacuate the hotel in the middle of the night. Most have been sensible enough to bring their jackets and shoes, a couple of kids even huddling beneath a hotel duvet.

And since there's no sign of a fire or even any smoke, Felix feels like an idiot for not having the foresight to bring something to warm him up.

The firefighters have just arrived at the scene and are preparing to search the building for the source of the alarm. Felix tries not to shiver even more as he relents to the fact that they're still going to be stuck out there for quite some time.

The crowd in the parking lot is loud, families and partners gossiping amongst themselves, some people even arguing with the staff members about ruining their vacation. Felix wishes they'd just shut up, more than happy to forget this ever happened if he'd just get to curl back under the warm covers of his bed instead of freezing out here.

This trip just kept getting worse. Not only had he been forced to come on only a day's notice, taking over Lauren's business trip across the Atlantic when she'd unexpectedly caught a cold. He’d also had to take a shitty flight route with two extra stops, and his last flight had been no less than six hours late.

When he’d finally arrived at the hotel and started trying to sleep off the massive jet lag after barely getting any sleep on the plane, he'd been rudely awakened by an emergency. And now, to add insult to injury, he’s gone from the threat of burning to death to freezing to death.

“Hey,” a voice says from right beside him, making Felix jolt in surprise over being distracted from his internal pity party.

He sees a man standing next to him, wrapped in a hotel-issued blanket, looking up at him with curious brown eyes and a pleasant smile.

Felix racks his brain for if he knows this man or not, but draws up a blank, the tiredness and cold making his thoughts feel sluggish. The man is shorter than Felix and looks a little older, if the laugh lines and grey hair are anything to go by.

“You look cold,” the man says. “Wanna share my blanket?”

As the man lifts the fabric just the slightest bit in invitation, mortification hits Felix. Not only is his shivering noticeable enough to warrant someone taking pity on him, he's being offered physical contact from a stranger.

Isn't it a weird thing to offer, especially to another man? Does he somehow know that Felix is gay? Is he making fun of him? Or is it just an American thing? Wouldn't it be weirder for Felix not to accept, since the man has noticed how much he’s freezing?

“Alright,” the man says when Felix isn't replying, lowering the bedding in surrender. “My bad, I just thought—"”

“Yes,” Felix says, interrupting him.

“Uh…” the man says, understandably confused by Felix's social awkwardness.

“Yes, I want to sh-share,” Felix says, another full-body shiver wracking his body.

“Oh! Sure,” the man grins happily, and then he's suddenly very close, shoulder bumping against Felix's chest, and a corner of the blanket is thrown haphazardously over Felix's shoulder.

“T-thank you,” Felix stammers, both from the nerves and the cold, grabbing the soft cotton fabric and pulling it tighter against himself.

And causing the stranger to stumble even closer from the momentum.

“Sure, don't mention it,” the man grins, like he's not now pressed against a stranger's side from shoulder to hip.

Embarrassed as Felix feels, both the blanket and the person attached to it are warm. Felix has to stop himself from sighing blissfully as the other's body heat starts to warm him up, slowly working away at the chill in his bones.

“Well, since we're gonna be stuck here for a while,” the man muses. “My name's Ace.”

“F-F-Felix,” Felix manages through clattering teeth.

“I'd shake your hand, but I think we're past that stage already,” Ace jokes, and then offers a pleased grin as Felix huffs out a surprised laugh through his nose. “In any case, it’s nice to meet you, Felix,” the man looks up at him and smiles, and Felix's poor, gay heart skips a beat.

Yeah, this is definitely preferable to freezing to death.

“I wonder how long they'll take to find the cause this time,” Ace starts conversationally, while pulling out his phone from the nest of blankets. He sets to what looks like writing a text to someone, not seeming the least bit bothered by their predicament.

“You don't seem very nervous,” Felix observes.

“Not my first rodeo,” Ace looks up and grins. “Probably someone just smoked inside and tripped the alarm. Happens a lot in hotels.”

“D-d-do you travel? A lot?” Felix asks, partly do distract himself from the cold while he gets his body heat up, partly to divert Ace’s attention from his phone.

“You could say that,” Ace says. “What about you? Here on business?”

“Yes,” Felix says, with no small amount of annoyance over being reminded he still has work tomorrow. “Thankfully my meeting isn't until the afternoon.”

“Glad you can get your beauty sleep,” Ace says.

“And hopefully get rid of the jet lag,” Felix comments with a tired sigh.

Ace hums in acknowledgement before going back to his phone message. Felix tries not to take it personally; he knows he's not that interesting to talk to.

Ace is so warm, and it's a little awkward being pressed this close, but embarrassingly enough, Felix finds himself drifting even closer. Ace smells like whiskey and cheap cologne, but somehow, it's oddly comforting. He'd probably been drinking last night—well, technically tonight. Thankfully, he doesn't seem drunk, as Felix doubts he would have had the patience to deal with alcohol-induced rambling.

“Whiskey man, I see,” Felix comments. When Ace looks up from his phone in surprise, Felix realize how weird it is for him to admit to smelling the man.

“I reek that bad, huh?” Ace grins, taking the comment in stride.

“I didn't mean—” Felix flounders to explain.

Damnit, he should just give up on trying to make conversation.

“Wow, lighten up,” Ace says and elbows him playfully under the blanket, adding even more physical contact to their already borderline inappropriate situation.

Felix tries to ignore the fluttering in his gut when he feels Ace's hairy forearm brush against his own. This is more physical contact than he's gotten from another man… probably ever.

“Yeah, I had a few drinks earlier. I'm more of a wine man, but…” Ace seems to ponder. “Sometimes, you've got to try new things.”

Like huddling under a blanket with an attractive stranger, Felix considers.

Suddenly, he almost regrets the blanket blocking his view from seeing more of the man. His body feels firm against Felix's, and his shoulders look defined, though that could just be an illusion from the thick fabric covering them.

“What’s your poison?” Ace asks, following Felix's awkward silence.

“I don't drink much,” Felix lies, like he hasn’t been going through his father’s old liquor collection at an alarming rate for the past year or so. “Uhm… whiskey, I guess. And bourbon.”

He could really, really go for either one right now. Not only would the drinks warm him up, they'd also make him act like an actual human being instead of the stiff robot impression he's currently doing.

“Huh,” Ace comments.

“What?” Felix asks, trying not to get defensive.

“Nothing! I would have pegged you as a beer guy, is all,” Ace muses. “Maybe that's just the accent, though.”

“Sorry,” Felix apologizes. Now hyperaware of his bad pronunciation and extremely German accent, he tries to bury his face deeper into the blanket in embarrassment.

“Naw, hey, come on,” Ace turns toward him as much as the cramped space allows him to. “Your English is amazing! The accent only adds charm.”

Felix looks at Ace's encouraging smile and tries not to think too much about their thighs now pressing together. Ace is clearly waiting for him to say something, but all Felix can focus on is his warm body and striking features.

“Where are you from?” Felix asks instead, trying to place the hint of an accent he thinks he hears.

“Huh. Good catch,” Ace smiles, seeming surprised. “Guess!”

Felix flushes and looks at Ace's eagerly grinning face. It's nighttime, but Ace's skin seems darker than his own, and his features look Mediterranean, reminding Felix of countless business trips to Spain. But the accent…

“Italy?” Felix suggests, and Ace's smile somehow widens even further.

“Close!” Ace says. “Argentina.”

“Ehm…” Felix furrows his brow in confusion, thinking that surely, being a whole continent and world sea off doesn't exactly count as "close".

“My family hails from Italy, and it's my native language,” Ace explains. “So it was a really good guess!”

“Thank you…?” Felix says awkwardly.

“I'd ask what you were doing when the alarm went off, but…” Ace pauses, glancing up at his disheveled hair. “From your outfit choice and the bedhead, I'd put 50 bucks on 'sleeping'."

“You'd be correct,” Felix murmurs, self-consciously poking his hand out from under the blanket to run through his tousled hair. “I'm not very interesting.”

“I think I'll be the judge of that," Ace grins. “If, uh… you don't mind chatting to pass the time?”

“Not at all,” Felix says, hoping he doesn't sound too eager, happy Ace deems him interesting enough to talk to instead of whoever he was texting earlier.

They spend some twenty minutes chatting about mostly insignificant things. But as much as Felix usually hates small talk, he now welcomes it, because Ace is asking him interesting questions instead of just talking about the weather. He appears to genuinely care about Felix's story, and Felix might end up sharing a little too much, from the work stress and business trip he didn't even want to come to, all the way to his relationship that ended a few weeks ago.

Ace seems friendly and pleasant, taking Felix's awkward pauses and nervousness in stride, filling in the silences with stories of his own. Felix hears a lot about the different places he's traveled to, along with some hotel horror stories that make him feel much better about the current fire alarm situation. He manages a few laughs, some merely polite, but some genuinely amused at Ace's over-the-top storytelling.

Eventually, Ace's phone beeps again and he excuses himself and engrosses himself momentarily in the screen, and this time, Felix welcomes the brief break in socializing.

He realizes just how nice this is. It feels like a stroke of luck that only a few short weeks after ending his relationship with his ex-girlfriend and coming out in the process, he'd meet a handsome stranger this eager to cuddle up to him.

Not cuddle up—share a blanket, Felix mentally berates himself.

He glances at Ace out of the corner of his eye, seeing his side profile illuminated by the dim glow from the phone screen. Felix never really considered what his type would be, apart from the all-encompassing "men" that he'd only recently come to accept about himself. But taking in Ace's defined features and the smile that seems to be a permanent part of his face, he's starting to get an idea.

Quickly looking away before Ace catches him staring, Felix suddenly feels almost too warm. He shouldn't get ahead of himself; even though It feels like Ace is being a little too friendly, he hasn't actually made a move, seeming happy just with chatting to kill time.

Felix briefly toys with the idea of placing his hand on Ace's hip in a loose embrace, just to test the waters. He'd never be that brave, but if he was, he'd at least know for sure, even if it would probably end in Ace being disgusted and kicking him out of the blanket cocoon.

But… maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d smile even wider and return the gesture, just as eager as Felix to get even closer. Felix would wrap his arms around him, and they'd stand there cuddling and sharing even more body heat, maybe even kissing—

Shit. This is exactly what his therapist said he shouldn't do, the term "excessive daydreaming" flashing in his mind.

“Sorry,” Ace is saying, turning back to face him and pocketing the phone, completely oblivious to Felix's internal dilemma. “Where were we?”

“I, uh,” Felix stammers.

Was just thinking about kissing you.

“Did I tell you about the time a bunch of college kids decided to set off fireworks in the hotel room next to mine?” Ace offers, saving Felix from floundering for a topic.

“What—why would they…?” Felix asks.

“Well, I'd just gotten back from this extravagant New Years party—” Ace excitedly starts telling yet another story, and Felix keenly starts listening in.

Ace seems to be completely in his element, getting lost in talking about just how fancy the party was, followed by a dramatic retelling of some very incredulously sounding explosions that turned out to be fireworks. Felix keeps listening raptly, not entirely sure about the accuracy of the story, but enjoying seeing the other so happy. The blanket occasionally shifts as Ace tries to gesture with his hands to add to the narration, only to remember that he can't, looking sheepish every time.

Felix has never met someone with such effortless charisma. Ace's voice is rich and pleasant, and Felix briefly zones out while he imagines it talking him to sleep.

It's stupid, and he knows it. He's only known the man for half an hour, and even "knowing" him is pushing it. Felix is only in the country for two more days, and he’s very aware that pursuing anything would be pointless.

But he also knows that given the chance, he wouldn't say no to seeing Ace again. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, the narrowly averted emergency, or simply being far away from home and realizing nobody would ever find out. Either way, he’s feeling more adventurous than usual, the adrenaline in his veins and butterflies in his gut keeping his tired body on high alert.

Too bad he's deathly afraid of rejection and would never dare to ask if the other is interested.

Suddenly, there's the screech of a PA system, and Ace stops mid-sentence, both of them turning to look at a firefighter speaking into a megaphone.

“The fire has been extinguished and the building is now safe. Please return to your rooms,” the fireman announces.

The horde of people immediately start flocking towards the hotel entrance at the same time, creating an annoyed crowd of freezing, grumpy people and managing to clog the entryway immediately.

“I wonder what the cause was,” Felix ponders out loud, not making an effort to move toward the commotion and get stuck between the shoving, complaining people.

“Who cares? We get to not freeze our asses off anymore!” Ace exclaims gleefully.

And Felix realizes they no longer have a reason to stay huddled up together. Reluctantly slipping away from under the blanket, he feels a disappointed pang in his chest over how happy Ace sounds to get rid of him.

“Thank you for lending your blanket,” Felix says, handing his side of the fabric back over to Ace and trying not to shiver as the cold of the night hits his warm skin.

“My pleasure! Thanks for keeping me warm!” Ace quips cheerfully, wrapping the item tighter around himself.

“Ehm… you as well,” Felix says, looking away so Ace doesn't see his face heating up.

“Come on, let's get you inside!” Ace prompts, and then he leans into Felix and shoves him lightly with a blanket-clad shoulder.

It's clearly in an intent to encourage Felix to move, but it still makes newfound hope blossom in his chest. They’re no longer forced to tolerate each other if they don't want to freeze, but Ace still seems far from repulsed by him.

“Right,” Felix says, starting the short trek to the hotel entrance that has thankfully cleared up from people.

“So…” Ace drawls, easily falling into step next to him. “Can I have your number?”

Felix glances at him and blinks in confusion. Is… is Ace asking him out? Or just being polite? Is he going to ask to be added on Facebook too, like all the weird colleagues Felix has met on business trips once and then never heard from again?

“For...?” Felix manages to ask when they arrive at the entrance, reaching for the door and holding it open for the man.

“Just wondering if you wanted to grab some drinks while you're still in town,” Ace says when he slips past Felix into the building. “I wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” Ace adds, looking him up and down with a smile that is definitely not just friendly.

Heat rises up Felix's neck from more than just the warm air of the hotel lobby. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one sensing the tension between them.

“Maybe,” Felix says, trying and probably failing to not seem way too enthusiastic.

“Oh?” Ace says, quirking an eyebrow. And then he's shrugging off the blanket, revealing a rolled-up, button-up shirt and—

Fuck. Broad shoulders and a lean build, that sure as hell doesn't make Felix's predicament any easier.

Felix definitely stares longer than appropriate while they continue walking to the elevator, Ace thankfully too busy with bunching up the blanket to notice his ogling.

“What…" Felix starts, making Ace look at him, cocking his head. "Uhm. What's with the sudden interest?”

“I mean,” Ace says, shooting him pointed look. “I was interested ever since I saw you there, shivering in your ridiculously tight T-shirt,” he winks.

Felix realizes that the shirt probably leaves a lot less to the imagination than the suits and blazers he always wears. He lifts a hand to his arm in a self-conscious manner, making an attempt to cover himself.

“But I didn't wanna freak you out,” Ace adds, giving a one-shoulder shrug. “Would have been pretty awkward if you said no, considering you were kinda stuck with me for a bit.”

That's… oddly sweet, and very much appreciated. Felix would probably have imploded on himself from embarrassment if Ace would have been this forward from the start.

“Thank you,” Felix says.

“No worries,” Ace grins, pushing the button to order the elevator. “So? Are you freaked out?”

Felix considers the question for a moment, only arriving at variations of "no", "I'm leaving in two days" and "help you're really hot but I've never been with a guy and don't know what to do".

“I think the word is…” Felix pauses in thought, trying to ignore his brain screaming insecurities at him. “'Intrigued'.”

Proud of managing to be smooth for once in his life, the ding of the elevator arriving is almost lost on Felix, because he's so focused on Ace's now downright lecherous grin.

But he obediently steps into the elevator, not wanting to keep the few hotel customers still lingering behind them.

“What's you floor, gorgeous?” Ace asks with a flirtatious smile, after pressing the number four.

Wow. How the hell did Felix ever manage to think he was just being friendly?

“Three,” Felix says.

“Looks like you're under me,” Ace flirts while pushing the button for him, making Felix choke on his own spit from the suggestive comment, embarrassed yet curious.

And then Ace clears his throat and averts his eyes as a woman and her daughter walk into the elevator with them.

They stand awkwardly next to each other as the elevator doors slide close. Felix’s thoughts are a mess of excitement, nervousness and embarrassment, not sure what to do in this situation.

He discreetly glances at Ace—

And the other catches him looking.

Felix's heart skips a beat as Ace's lips spread into a lazy grin, eyes shimmering with unspoken promise.

He wonders what it would be like to wipe that grin off the smug man's face. Felix imagines pushing Ace up against the elevator wall, picturing how the other’s eyes would go wide, maybe he'd even gasp, taken off guard at Felix's sudden boldness. Maybe he wouldn't have time to say anything, because Felix would capture his lips in a passionate kiss, and Ace would groan and drop the blanket to tangle his hands in Felix's hair—

DING!

Felix is rudely snapped out of his daydream by the elevator arriving on his floor. He realizes he's been spacing out while staring at Ace's face, and the smirk is gone from the man's lips, but his eyes are somehow even more intense.

“Good night,” Felix offers stiffly, forcing himself to break the eye contact before he gets lost in his own head again.

He takes a step out of the elevator, mentally scolding himself when he notices his racing heart and heavy breathing, getting himself worked up over a dumb fantasy.

Tomorrow, he promises himself when the elevator doors start sliding shut behind him. Tomorrow, he’d go out with Ace and could maybe, hopefully psyche himself up enough to make a move. He'd just text the man in the morning—

Except they never exchanged numbers.

Shit!

[lisaleigh713]

My Doctoral Advisor

So, I haven’t been around for a bit but had a little time to sit down and explain why.  I graduated my Master’s in May and was accepted to the Ph.D candidate program.  My advisors name is Bo.  Of course it has Dr. in front of his name.  Anyway, Bo is a great looking man.  He is 50 years old with salt and pepper hair.  Bo stands right at 6 feet tall and about 200 lbs.  Bo keeps himself in shape.  

Bo is divorced with 2 grown children whom he does get to see often.  Bo is great in International Relations and I truly look forward to his tutelage and counsel.  About a month ago, I was in a piano bar here in Houston, actually looking for an older man to take me home and fuck the hell out of me.  

I had my hair down and in a light curl/wave.  I had on a dark blue eye shadow.  My lips were a deep dark red color.  My mani/pedi were of course a french mani/pedi.  I wore a dark blue with small white polka dots.  My dress came about mid thigh, no panties of course but I did wear a white garter belt with white silk stockings and white 6” heels.  I did not wear a bra as I wanted my breasts to free flow with my dance moves.

I was siting at a table sipping a very dry martini when I noticed Bo across the room.  At first I thought, “he is your advisor Lisa, leave the man alone.  Don’t get involved with him.”  But do I ever listen to myself, NO!!!  Bo noticed me staring at him once and proceeded to come over to my table.

“Lisa, strange meeting you here; this is for a more older crowd.”  “Well Doc, I happen to like men and women of all ages and thought I would just enjoy a night out with people who know what they want and do not like to play games.”  He looked stunned for a moment.  I invited him to sit with me.  Bo said to me, “away from the campus or in private, why don’t you call me Bo instead of Doc.”  I agreed wholeheartedly.

Of course he complemented me on how I looked, of course I dropped my eyes to show my submissive side, hoping he would pick up on that.  He did!  We danced a few times, slow dances of course and had numerous drinks.  Bo was getting drunk, no Bo was drunk.  I am not going to lie, I was a bit tipsy myself.  I only lived a few blocks away and could easily navigate the roads until I got home.  I had no idea where Bo lived, so I thought it might be better to go to my house.

I got us to my house and inside.  I took Bo to my bedroom with no intentions of anything sexual, I just wanted to spend the night holding a man.  I got Bo undressed and into bed and I took off my dress but left my lingerie and heels on, just in case.  

About an hour later, Bo had wrapped me up in his arms and I could feel his hard cock pressing against me tight ass.  He had a nice sized cock.  I have had much bigger but he had nothing to be ashamed about in that department.  He had one hand on my tits and was simply thrusting at my ass.  He was sound asleep.  “What the hell,” I thought.  I spread my legs opened, reached behind me, grabbed his cock and slipped it in my dripping wet pussy.

He continued to thrust away.  He was sleep fucking me.  He fucked me for a few minutes but I wanted more.  I rolled him over on to his back and then straddled his nice cock.  I put his cock in me and began bouncing up and down on his cock being careful to rock my clit against his pelvis.  I laid my breast on his chest and continued to fuck his cock with my pussy.

Bo woke up!  He looked me in the eye and I stopped.  We just looked at each other for what seemed like an eternity, then he pulled me down to his lips kissing me extremely deeply and passionately.  He rolled me over onto my back, I spread my legs into the splits and he grabbed his cock and guided it into my wet cunt.  

Bo began to thoughtfully fuck my cunt.  He sucked on my nipples but I could tell he was holding back some.  He fully laid on top of me now, my legs wrapped around his back while his kissed me.  “Bo, your cock feels so good inside me.  Now fuck me hard Bo.  Fuck me like you bought it baby.”

Bo did just that.  He sped up the tempo and made his thrusts deeper and harder and just before he was getting ready to cum he pulled out.  He pulled out with the intention of cumming on top of my pussy instead of inside.  I had to think quickly.  I grabbed his ass and pushed him up to my face.  I opened my mouth and let him cum in my mouth.  Of course I had to clean his cock of my pussy juice which made him cum some more.

After he came, he rolled off of me.  I snuggled up on his chest and we both fell asleep.  I arose about mid morning, careful not to wake Bo.  I made a pot of coffee and started breakfast.  I still had on my lingerie from the night, with the heels, when I had finished making breakfast.  I poured him a cup and me a cup of coffee along with his eggs, toast and breakfast sausage.

I went back into the bedroom where I found Bo beginning to stir a bit.  I sat the table across his stomach and laid back down next to him.  Bo started with, “Lisa, we need to talk.”  “You bet we do Bo,” I said.  He began to apologize for what I happened when I pressed a finger against his lips and simply said, “Shhhhh.”

“You are my advisor, period.  I do not expect you to treat me in different than anyone else when we are at school.  However; if you want to carry on a private relationship outside of school, then I would be happy about that.  I am your doctoral candidate on campus, but off campus I am simply a woman who is attracted to you.”

“Lisa, do you actually think we can keep all of this separate, two different relationships.”  “Bo, I can be a simply booty call or a relationship girl if you like.  The decision is up to you.  You can still see people and fuck them if you want me to be a booty call or fuck other women and have a relationship with me.  I am fine with whatever choice you make.”

I think it had been so long for Bo being in a relationship he was scared but he hadn’t fucked a woman since his wife and he divorced.  

“Bo, for right now, you just enjoy your breakfast while I enjoy mine.”  He looked at me perplexed as I only had coffee.  While making breakfast I had to of course freshen up my makeup.  I moved the covers back and placed my deep red lips against his soft cock.  I sucked it in to my mouth which caused Bo to moan loudly.  I love the feel of a soft cock growing in my mouth.

I continued to suck his now hard cock.  He moved the tray out of the way.  I was comfortable just giving him a blow job but if he wanted more, I would provide more.  I got on my hands and knees and Bo got in behind me.  He mounted me shoving his cock in my hot cunt and began pumping away.  He fucked my twat for about 15 minutes and then it was time for me to crawl on top of him.

He laid back on the bed and I crawled on top of him.  I placed his cock against my asshole and once he realized what was going on his faced looked stunned.  I grabbed his cock to hold it steady and plunged myself down on to his cock.  Bo’s cock was now deep in my ass.  He moaned aggressively.

I rode that cock like Seattle Slough.  He didn’t last long and screamed “I am going to cum!”  I sped up and plunged the whole cock deep in my ass and then began to gyrate my hips on his cock.  He came alright, and came and came and came.  I rolled off after a few minutes and then began my cleanup process.

“Bo baby, I want you to slap my ass please.”  Bo gave me a little love tap.  “Bo, sweetie, I want you to smack the hell out of my ass.  I want you to slap my ass as hard as you can.”   With that, Bo drew back his hand and rightfully slapped my ass good and hard.  “Baby, I want you to pinched and slap my nipples and tits please.”  He did as was instructed.

“Bo baby, I can take a lot of abuse and I like it very much.  I imagine your wife never let you fuck her ass or slap her around.”  He responded with a simple shake of the head.  “Well baby, I am different, if you want vanilla I will give you vanilla but if you want to explore the wilder side of yourself, I am just the woman to do that with sweetie.”

We got out of bed and grabbed a shower together.  I re-applied my makeup and threw on some black 5” heels and a completely see through black robe.  I asked if he would like a drink so I made us both a Scotch neat (two fingers).  When I gave him his drink, I had to move a bit showing my ass to him.  Without hesitation, he slapped my ass so hard I thought he was going to knock me over.

Of course my pussy got wet and my ass began pulsating.  I bent over my counter right there and said, “baby you got to even it out, slap the other cheeks sweetie.”  He slapped me again real hard.  He opened his towel, moved my robe to the side and slammed his cock into my asshole.  

He fucked me hard for about 5 minutes when he pulled out and said, “get on your knees, I want to cum on your pretty face.”  I did and he did.

We had a wonderful Sunday together were we wound up fucking a bunch and I introduced him to some more things I like that his wife would never do.

We do have a relationship now but it is casual.  He has been dating some other older women and I continue to fuck who I want but when he calls, I drop everything to ready myself for him.  He is teaching me and I am teaching him.  What a wonderful exchange of ideas we now have.

Love and Kisses;

Lisa

[wandas-sunshine]

The Muse’s Dance - Part 3

Summary: Steve is a fine arts major, (Y/N) is a dance major. Their meeting wasn’t supposed to be anything big, but Steve is sure he’s found his new muse, and (Y/N) is suddenly convinced that maybe she doesn’t have to choose between her career and a relationship.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 7,466

Warnings: Smut, dubcon at first glance, fluff

A/N: The song in the chapter is The Lady Is A Tramp by Frank Sinatra. This chapter connects directly to the previous one, so hopefully the flow isn’t off. Enjoy!

Part 2 | Series Masterlist

The two stood in front of a cute little diner with a bright sign over the door. It read ‘Uncle Ben’s’ in shining letters. The sign in the window said they were open, and Steve held the door open for her. Inside, everything was cheery and safe. The black and white tile, the red seats that matched the jukebox by the counter. The walls were covered with pictures of actors and celebrities from the 50s, and various records. One wall in particular caught her eye, the one behind the counter. It had a collage of pictures surrounding a framed one of a man. She assumed that was Uncle Ben.

“Welcome to Uncle Ben’s diner. What do you think?” Steve had let his arm slide away from her shoulders as she looked around. She seemed a bit brighter now, a smile blossoming onto her face.

“This place is incredible, I love it.” She turned to look at him before hugging his waist tightly. “Thank you, Steve.”

Her fingers reached up, brushing across his cheek. Her eyes danced across his face, landing on his lips for a split second. She wanted to say thank you, maybe not in the best way, but she just wanted to kiss him so badly. She glanced away, and so did he.

“Go ahead, pick any seat you’d like. I’ll grab a menu for you.” Steve suggested, and she nodded, happily making herself comfortable in one of the red booths. She watched Steve lean himself against the counter until a pretty middle aged woman came out. Her dark hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and her smile lit up her face. Whoever she was, she seemed to know Steve well enough. She reached up and ruffled his already messy hair, saying something to earn one of those brilliant sunshine smiles of his.

“You brought a girl,” May pointed out quietly. Steve dropped his head for a second before glancing over towards (Y/N). She looked better than she had when he’d picked her up. The red around her eyes had faded, and the frown that had been etched onto her face had turned into a content smile as she looked around. “You never bring anyone but James and Natasha. She must be something special.”

Steve blushed an even darker shade. Of course she was special. If only he could convince her of that.

“Yeah, she’s real special. But we’re just friends.” He shrugged and took the menu that May had passed across the bar to him. The woman lifted a curious eyebrow and glanced past him at the girl. She was watching on with a dreamy smile that May recognized all too well.

“I don’t think she knows that.” The woman patted his hand affectionately before letting him head for his seat. He shook his head a little. He hadn’t expected that sort of thing from Aunt May, but he probably should have. He slid into the booth and passed (Y/N) the menu. She wiggled in her seat excitedly and he practically felt his heart combust in his chest.

“What were you two talking about?” She asked, looking up at him through her eyelashes. He rolled his eyes at her.

“We were just catching up. She’s surprised I brought someone new.” Steve waved his hand dismissively, but she wasn’t about to let it go so easily. She propped her chin in her hands and stared at him until he went on. “May’s known me for a few years now. I moved in a few blocks down. Me and Buck found the place that night. I don’t really bring anyone around here. Only the special ones.”

Her hand reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Steve considered her special. Special enough to go out of his way to comfort her over something as stupid as her parents coming to support her. Special enough to bring her to his secret place. Special enough to call her his muse.

“Good to know you think so highly of me. Even after everything.” She playfully nudged her leg against his under the table. “So, the burgers here any good?”

“Best in town if I do say so myself.” Their little bit of banter was interrupted by the same smiling woman. Something about her felt safe, familiar. “May Parker. But these guys call me Aunt May.”

She stuck out a hand, and the young dancer took it politely. The handshake didn’t last long as Aunt May placed her hands on her hips.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N). I’m Steve’s —” There was a breath of hesitation. She was so much more than his friend, and both of them felt it. But lingering touches and longing glances, painting company and rehearsal feedback didn’t mean a thing if neither of them trusted themselves to make it something more. “—friend.”

“A pleasure to meet you, sweetheart. Now, what can I get for you two?” If she noticed the awkward moment (and how could she have not?) she didn’t say anything. She simply produced a notepad from her apron pocket, and took the pencil from behind her ear. The two placed their orders, and (Y/N) wondered what exactly Steve’s ‘usual’ was. She wondered how long he’d explored the menu before he settled on it, and how often he strayed from it. She took May’s advice, a bacon cheeseburger with fries. With a promise that their food would be out soon, May hurried out of their way.

Once the two of them were alone again, they fell back into their comfortable quiet. They sipped their water and shared little smiles. It was a silence that both of them could happily stay in all night. The soft music that played eased the awkwardness that may have tried to build.

“Hey, how’s your piece coming?” Her hand brushed against his to draw his attention, not that he’d ever taken it away from her. Her hand lingered there, and Steve so easily could have held it...and Steve so badly wanted to hold it.

“It’s finished actually. Just put the final touches on it today. I can’t wait for you to see it.” He grinned at her, and everything else faded to mere background noise. The way he looked at her was the only thing that mattered anymore.

“Two more days. Are you gonna make it to see me dance?” She asked with a hopeful gleam in her eye. Performing with her parents in the crowd would have her on edge, but if Steve was there, she knew she’d be more than okay.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I promise you I’ll be there.” He crossed his heart with one hand and squeezed hers with the other. The two of them shared a look, emotion clouded eyes meeting and begging one another to say something, to do something to break the building tension between them. Their moment was once more cut short, this time by the arrival of their food. A couple burgers were sat down with two orders of fries, and a chocolate milkshake that made Steve grin. (Y/N) popped a fry into her mouth and hummed appreciatively as it scalded her in that way that french fries tend to do.

“Go on, try the burger! Bucky barely eats anyone else’s. Only the Parkers and the cook know the secret to making them so good.” Steve urged excitedly. She straightened up and picked up the sandwich, making sure to put on a show. She glanced up with a smirk, then took a bite. Her eyes fluttered shut, and the noise she made was practically sinful, a soft moan that had Steve flushing.

“This is the best burger I’ve had in my life.” She announced after a long moment of savoring the bite. “I officially refuse to eat anywhere else. Only here.”

He chuckled, taking a bite out of his own sandwich. The first half of their meal was spent absorbed in their food, only stopping to exchange praise for it. But as their stomachs were filled, slow conversation picked up.

“How did you get into dance?” Steve had asked. (Y/N) finished her fry and sipped at her water before answering.

“When I was little my friends started ballet. So I begged and begged my parents to let me do it too. Ballet turned into tap. Then jazz, ballroom, contemporary. It never stopped.” As she talked about her past dance experiences, her face lit up with an excited smile. “It kind of took over my life. My parents made me stop for a bit when I was 10, but it sort of made me really depressed. My grades slipped, I stopped talking to my friends. So they put me back in, and voila!”

Steve let out an impressed whistle, and she tipped her head curiously.

“All of that, and my grandma taught me to dance in her kitchen.” He laughed without a thought, but (Y/N)’s eyes lit up.

“You dance?” She leaned forward and propped her elbows against the table. No matter how simply adorable the smile on her lips was, Steve recognized the danger in it.

“Only a little. Just some slow dancing. Prom style, you know? She tried to teach me swing dancing, but I just don’t have the coordination for that.” He rambled, sheepishly scratching at the back of his neck as she continued to grin at him. “I don’t wanna know what you’re thinking, do I?”

Steve took another sip from his shake. She simply shrugged and dug through her bag for her wallet. Then she slipped from their booth and practically skipped over to where Aunt May was wiping down the tables.

“Aunt May, you wouldn’t mind if me and Stevie have a little dance, would you?” She asked sweetly. Steve shot up from his spot and shook his head frantically. He wasn’t a good dancer to begin with, but if he tried dancing with her pressed against his chest? That would just be idiotic, he’d make a total fool of himself.

“Oh, why not? Nobody to bother with it.” She joked with a knowing smile. The young dancer squealed and clapped excitedly. Her hand found Steve’s and she tugged him to the jukebox. She pressed the money into his hand and nodded towards the machine.

“Pick your poison.” She giggled, practically bouncing. Steve was nervous, but how could he argue when she was looking at him with such wide, hopeful eyes? And so he scanned the songs before picking. Sinatra’s voice filled the room, and she tugged him a few steps back until they had enough space. She looked up at him, settling his hand on her waist and slipping hers into his other properly. She gave a nod, a silent promise that they’d be just fine.

He allowed himself to relax, giving in to the music and leading her in a dance. On occasion she’d giggle, she’d guide him into spinning her, or she’d add a playful dramatic flair. Every laugh that passed her lips relaxed him more, shattering his nerves piece by piece. They gravitated closer, squeezing out the polite distance they’d begun with until she was pressed firm and safe against his chest. His hand splayed against the small of her back, and her head had found its way to his shoulder as their dance slowed to a sort of intimate sway.

Steve hummed along to the end of the song, and (Y/N) closed her eyes, just taking in the feeling of being held by him once more. She would never get enough of it. And as the music stopped, she expected his grip to loosen, but it didn’t. He kept her snug there, his cheek pressed to the side of her head. Slowly, she opened her eyes. She wasn’t ready for her little piece of paradise to slip away.

He reached up and let his fingers dance over her cheek, brushing his thumb ever so lightly over her bottom lip. She held her breath, eyes locked onto his. There was something different in them now. Something deeper that she couldn’t decipher.

“I think I’m gonna kiss you now.” His voice was hardly above a whisper, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

“Please kiss me now.” She closed her eyes and tipped her head up. There wasn’t a moment for her to pray that it wasn’t some cruel dream that she was about to awaken from. His lips met hers, so softly at first that she wondered if they were really even touching. Then harder, more desperate. He pulled her tighter to him, and her arms snaked up to let her fingers run through still damp blonde locks. The kiss was slow, and sweet, and tasted a bit of the chocolate still lingering on his tongue as he swiped it across her lips.

When they did finally separate, everything around them flickered back into reality. They were alone now, neither of them had noticed Aunt May disappear into the back. Steve made a mental note to thank her later. When their eyes met again, the both of them had the sweetest smiles on their lips.

“We should probably go. It’s getting late.” (Y/N) whispered, letting her hands slide to rest against his chest. A glance at the neon clock on the wall confirmed that it was nearing 10pm. So Steve nodded and pecked her lips once more, just because he could. Then he let her slip out of his arms.

“Think we’re ready for the bill, Aunt May.” He called, peeking towards the back. A second passed before the woman came out again, this time with a grin that had the artist blushing again.

“This one’s on the house. Call it an early wedding gift.” She teased quietly, then winked before Steve could properly form a reply. And just like that, she left the two alone up front again. He rolled his eyes at her antics. That was just Aunt May, and everyone loved her for that. It kept everyone on their toes.

He returned to their booth and scooped (Y/N)’s bag up. He left ten dollars on the table for May, he knew she could use it.

“Ready?” He asked. She stood up again, and she seemed to have a new glow about her. It didn’t matter that she was exhausted, or that her muscles were overworked. She seemed to be refreshed, more like the girl he’d met that first day a month ago. She nodded and slipped her hand into his, hugging his arm close to her with her other hand.

The two stepped out into the cool night air and began their walk back towards the dorms, quietly enjoying each other’s company. But after a moment, the realization that Steve would simply take her home hit her hard. She slowed, gently tugging at his arm. She didn’t want to go back to her dorm and lay awake in her bed worrying until she managed to slip into a fitful sleep. No, she wanted to stay wrapped up in him until her worries washed themselves away.

“You alright, darlin?” Steve asked, turning to look at her as he noticed her sudden stop. She bit her lip and stepped closer. She didn’t like the way his concern for her made his expression harden. She reached up, gently running her fingers over the crease between his eyebrows to ease it out.

“I’m okay. I just...do you think I can come back to your place tonight?” Her hand slipped down to rest against his chest again. It was a loaded question, one that in her normal state of mind she never would have asked. No, that was Steve’s place to invite her in. Nevertheless, Steve hesitated. Of course he knew exactly what she was implying, the tension between the two of them was palpable. Of course he wanted to take her home with him, he wanted anything she would give to him. But he hated to think of the ways it could backfire. What if she simply wasn’t thinking properly?

“Come on, please.” She practically whined, nuzzling into his neck and pressing a tiny kiss there. “I just need a distraction tonight. Please distract me, Steve.”

He bit his lip, but it wasn’t enough to hide the way he shivered when she dragged her lips over that spot by his jaw, or the little groan that slipped out as he tugged her closer by her hips.

“Wait, (Y/N), wait.” He mumbled, pulling his hands away from her entirely. She instantly stepped back, her chest tightening at the idea that she had pushed too hard, that she’d crossed a line. She looked up with wide, terrified eyes.

“Steve, I’m so sorry.” She whispered. She’d ruined it, ruined whatever had been building between the two of them. He was going to hate her forever.

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s fine.” He reached out and slipped his hand into hers. “I want to take you back to my place, I want to do anything you want me to. But what if you regret it? If I do something that makes you hate me when you calm down from all this anxiety?”

There was a beat of silence, then another. He was beginning to worry until he felt her squeeze his hand. Then she laughed, a sound of nothing but relief. He was too good to be true. Chivalry was most definitely not dead, she thought, it was alive and well, and its name was Steve Rogers.

“Steven Grant Rogers, there isn’t a thing in this world I could regret doing as long as I do it with you.” She leaned closer and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Please, I want you. I won’t regret this, I promise.”

And those words were really all it took. All of Steve’s worries were gone, and the only thing bothering him was the walk standing between them and the privacy of his apartment. Only a few blocks, but it was too far.

The walk, though not particularly long, was excruciating. They could be kissing, he could be touching her, admiring her the way she deserved. But instead, they were stuck half clinging to each other and stealing too-short kisses.

Finally the two made it into his building, and Steve led her to the elevator. (Y/N) impatiently tugged him into a heated kiss as the doors dinged shut. Their lips moved slow and needy against each other, and their tongues danced together until the doors slid open again.

She pouted when Steve pulled away, but his hands stayed on her, gently pulling her along down the hallway. She tugged him in and pressed another teasing kiss to his lips through her giggles. He laughed along, easily spinning her to face away from him. His arms snaked around her waist and pressed her securely to his chest as he walked them towards his door. She stayed obediently nestled there as Steve fished his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door.

Once it was open, (Y/N) wiggled from his grip and slipped into his apartment. It wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined (not that she had spent much time imagining what his home was like), but it was so very...Steve.

There were half finished sketches spread out on the coffee table, and paint bottles spread out on the counter. For the most part, it was clean and fairly neat. There was a fluffy blanket tossed over the back of his dark brown couch, and an easel settled by the big window in his living room. The kitchen was practically spotless aside from a few paintbrushes laid out to dry.

Steve’s arms wrapped around her waist again like they knew that was exactly where they belonged. She hummed and melted back into his warmth. His lips scattered gentle kisses along her jaw.

“I know it’s not much,” He mumbled against her neck. A smile stretched on her lips, and she reached up to run her fingers through his hair.

“No, it’s perfect. I love it here.” She turned her head to guide their lips together. She nipped lightly at his bottom lip. The kiss wasn’t wild or fast, just slow, and deep, and effortlessly setting her skin alight. He drew away from her lips and pulled a tiny whine from the back of her throat with him.

“Come on,” He stepped away and tugged at her hand. His voice had a new tone to it, something dark and rich that had her soaking through her panties. She followed his lead, refusing to let him get too far away from her. He led her down the hall and pushed the door to his bedroom open.

A confident smirk tugged at the corners of her lips, and she slipped from his grip once again. He let out a soft groan, hating the loss of contact. But he watched with a twinkle of lust in his darkening blue eyes as she sauntered to his bed. She sprawled there, taking in the scent of his room and the feeling of his soft blankets beneath her. Then she propped herself up on her elbows to look at her.

He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest forcing his biceps to bulge. She was half convinced they’d tear right through his shirt. His eyes raked over her entirely clothed form. He wasn’t looking at her hungrily, despite the dark swirl of lust in his eyes. There was nothing in his gaze but pure passionate admiration.

“Are you just gonna stand and stare, Rogers?” She questioned playfully. That was all it took for him to snap out of his stupor. He tugged his shirt off and discarded it as he stalked towards the bed. She watched as he crawled closer to her, admiring the Adonis before her. Tanned skin stretched over rippling muscle, his gaze locking with her own. She dragged her hands down his chest and hummed.

“You are...so ripped.” She giggled, drawing a bright laugh from Steve as he kissed her quickly.

“And you’re stunningly beautiful.” He responded after a moment. She shivered as he moved to nuzzle against her neck. He kissed and nipped at sensitive skin, earning quiet hums and sighs of approval. All the while, his hands crept under her sweater. He mapped out every inch of skin, bunching the fabric under her breasts. He needed to remember this, who knew if he’d ever get another chance to be with her this way? Finally, he got tired of fighting with the fabric. He sat back and helped her out of it, whipping it across the room and out of his way.

His eyes took in the newly exposed skin. He stayed put, fingers dancing against her hip bones as he committed this heavenly sight to memory. God knew he’d never ever be able to forget the most beautiful view he ever had the honor to see.

She began to squirm under his adoring gaze, feeling her insecurities creep in. Almost as if he could sense it, Steve grinned and peppered her shoulders with kisses. His fingers pushed her bra straps down her arms. His worship of her continued, warm wet kisses and playful nibbles being strewn across her chest.

“Steve,” She murmured, fingers twirling through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You’re making me wait.”

He chuckled at the huff she let out, and the little pout that settled on her lips with it. He stretched up to press a searing kiss to her lips, letting his tongue dip just a bit past her lips before he decided to pull away. She lay there, breathless and staring up at him with wide, lust blown eyes.

“Patience. Just let me show you how much I appreciate you.” He brushed some hair from her cheek. With the tiny nod she gave him in reply, he set back to work. His mouth moved over her chest, tongue and teeth teasing along the edge of her bra. When he was finally satisfied with his teasing, he slipped his hand behind her back and popped the hooks of her bra. She wiggled it off and tossed it aside to worry about later.

An appreciative groan rumbled in his chest. She was absolutely stunning. He cupped her breasts gently in large hands, kneading at them, circling his thumbs around her nipples. She arched into his touch and gasped. The sharp sound in his otherwise silent room earned a proud smirk from him.

“So pretty,” He cooed, tweaking both of the hardening nubs and absolutely reveling in the soft moan she let out. He leaned down, sucking one of the peaks into his mouth. He listened closely to her gasps and whines, tugging and twisting at the other. He made sure to commit those sounds to memory, already imagining himself getting off to these memories in the middle of the night. Then he switched sides and patiently repeated the process.

“Stevie, please.” She gasped out, damn near trembling beneath him. He could swear it was the prettiest thing he’d ever heard, the way she said his name so desperately. But he gave in, flicking her nipples one more time before trailing his hands down her stomach. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her leggings and tugged them swiftly down her legs.

“You’re so beautiful. Like a fucking goddess.” He praised, kissing his way up one of her legs, stopping at her hip. He sucked and nibbled until a mark blossomed there. He left a matching one on the opposite him, then continued to kiss and tease his way down her other leg.

(Y/N) writhed and huffed, arousal pooling between her thighs as he took his time worshipping the rest of her. Every touch was setting her on fire, filling her with an intense need that she had never experienced before. Steve could tell, it was easy with the way she gravitated towards his touch. The desperate whines, the way she worked so hard to press her thighs together and get even a little bit of friction.

He nudged her legs open wider, trailing his hands up them. He licked his lips and eyed the dampness that made her core glisten for him. He brushed his fingertips against the spot, and she released a breathy moan. Her head tipped back and her hands clenched for a moment. She looked fucking exquisite. So he teased his fingers against her entrance again, catching another small noise of pleasure and grinning to himself.

“Steve, please. Please, please, please,” She chanted in a breathless whisper. He wanted to tease her, to draw things out even further. He wanted to see just how she reacted when she was denied in favor of admiring her just a tiny bit more, but how was he supposed to resist when she begged for him that way?

His hips ground desperately against the bed in an attempt to ease the ache of his hardness. He glanced at her through long eyelashes, watching as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. He dragged his finger through her lower lips, collecting her arousal on his fingertip and swirling it around her clit. The soft ‘oh’ that fell from her lips brought even more confidence to his actions.

He rubbed tight circles against the little bundle of nerves, taking in the way she turned her head from side to side, and how she’d keen for him if he pressed just that little bit harder. He finally sunk one long finger into her readily waiting hole. A sharp moan filled the room as he curled it, pumping it into her a few times before pulling it out and slipping it into his mouth. He made a show of sucking it clean.

“Shit, baby, you taste almost as good as you look right now.” He smirked. She started to speak, to argue he imagined, but her voice caught in her throat. He dove straight into her, his tongue running bold stripes up her pussy and around her clit, then back again. She cried out, his name on her lips becoming the prettiest sound in the universe. Neither of them cared just how many of his neighbors would complain later on. He wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud and suckled, carefully working two fingers into her and coaxing her towards the edge. With every curl and twist of his fingers, every determined flick of his tongue, she trashed, aching to let the burning coil twisting in her stomach snap.

“Stevie,” She gasped out, fingers curling tight into his hair and giving it a soft tug. He pressed his forearm to her hips, holding her firmly in lace. He didn’t answer really, just mumbled praise into her dripping core, telling her how perfect his name sounded coming from her lips in such a state of ecstasy.

He pulled away, kissing her thighs and hips as his fingers fucked steadily into her, his thumb working tight strokes against her clit.

“Fuck, I’m so close. So so close.” She warned. Her moans were nearly pornagraphic. He watched close, watched the way her back arched from the bed, the way her nose scrunched and her eyes squeezed shut.

“Come on, beautiful. Cum for me.” He pressed, hungrily latching his mouth back to her slick lips. She cried out and writhed under him. Her walls clenched around his fingers as she let herself tip over the edge into pure bliss. He slowed his pace, dragging out the agonizing pleasure until she gently nudged his head away from her sensitive core.

He sat back with a genuine smile on his lips. He wiped the wetness from his chin, letting his hands return to run up her sides. She was stunning there, sprawled out and flushed as she tried to catch her breath, her face clouded with a blissful expression that he’d kill to see every day.

“You did so good for me, doll.” He promised. He kissed his way back up her body, meeting her lips in a soft kiss as he tried to ground her again. “So amazing.”

She grinned against his lips, tugging him closer until his chest was pressed to hers. He kissed her again, slowly now, and she clung to him, content to follow his lead.

“I want you,” She purred and nuzzled against his neck. He groaned and brought his hand down to shed the rest of his clothes. He nearly moaned just at the feeling of freeing his painfully hard length. Her hand wandered down, brushing against his cock and earning a hushed hiss from the man. She curled her fingers around him, marveling at his size. He was just so damn big. She’d never taken anything like him before. He moaned into her neck as she stroked him slowly. “Please, Steve. I need you to fuck me.”

Her desperate request was all it took. He nudged her hand out of the way, stretching for a condom from his stand and opening it in a millisecond. He slid it on, giving himself a few harsh tugs before lining up with her dripping entrance. She rocked her hips impatiently and huffed, making Steve chuckle affectionately.

He pressed into her slow and steady, watching her face for any sign of discomfort. Her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth gaped at the delicious stretch, her walls fluttering around him as she tried to adjust to the sheer size. She groaned, her hand flying to grip at his bicep. She was already aching in the best possible way, and he was hardly half way in. A look of worry crossed Steve’s face. He stilled his hips and brushed his knuckles against her cheek.

“Are you alright? Should I stop?” He asked quietly. She shook her head frantically and hooked her legs around his hips.

“Please don’t stop.” She dragged her nails gently down his arm and let herself get used to the searing pleasure of being filled by him. “You’re just...fuck, just so big. Just need a second.”

She could practically see him swell with pride at her words. She rolled her hips, a surprised groan falling from his lips.

“Come on, Steve. Please move, I can take it.” She begged, gaining the courage to swivel her hips. He gripped them tightly, pulling nearly all the way out of her. Her breathy moan was followed up quickly by a whine of his name. It was absolutely sinful, Steve was positive he’d never be the same.

He pushed slowly back into her heavenly warmth, sinking himself entirely into her this time. The painfully slow pace continued until he was able to fuck into her with ease. Then, the pounding of his hips against hers picked up to a nearly brutal speed.

She writhed underneath him, crying out in a sort of pleasure she’d never felt before. It was like she was simply made to be taking him. He watched through lustfully hooded eyes, examining the way her breasts bounced with every thrust, the way her hands searched constantly for something to cling to. He grit his teeth, flicking his thumb against her clit. The senseless noises from her mouth were like a drug.

“You look so damn good like this,” He bit his lip as he drilled into her. He could feel her second orgasm coming, her walls gripping him tighter by the second. “So pretty taking my cock. Gonna paint you like this. Make sure you know how fucking pretty you are when you’re about to cum.”

“Steve,” She warned him, her nails carving marks against his skin as she clung to him. Her words only spurred him on.

“Come on, baby. You’ll feel so good cumming on my cock.” He coaxed. And it was more than enough to push her over the edge. She came with a shriek, trembling in his arms. He dipped his head against her shoulder and nuzzled into her neck, muffling his noises against her skin. A few more thrusts and he was spilling his release into the condom.

He slipped out of her, and she let out a soft hum, shifting to curl into herself. She watched with heavy eyes as he climbed off the bed and took off the condom. He glanced towards her, his lips curling into a smile. She looked like a slice of heaven there on his bed.

Her own smile grew on her lips. She’d just slept with Steve Rogers of all people. She was so entirely lost in her bliss, and come morning she wasn’t sure she’d been able to handle it. He turned towards the door and she whined out a small protest.

“Where are you going?” She mumbled, nuzzling into his pillow. He grinned fondly and shook his head.

“I’ll be right back, love. Just relax,” He promised. “I’ll be right back.”

She nodded and let her eyes fall shut. She hadn’t noticed the moments passing, or the door clicking shut again. She only opened her eyes when the bed dipped again. Steve gently nudged her legs back open. He carefully cleaned her up, praising her quietly. He shushed her back to sleep, tossing the washcloth into the laundry bin.

The exhaustion from her day washed through her. The ache from the rehearsal, the panic from the fall with her mother, the high from the incredible night with Steve, it all ran through her in the form of insistent sleepiness. She was half out already when Steve climbed into the bed beside her. His arm curled carefully around her and gently tugged her back against his chest. She wiggled until she’d practically molded herself perfectly into him.

Next thing she knew, she was waking up to the dull warmth of sunshine on her bare skin. She groaned quietly, rubbing her eyes and looking around. It took a moment for her sleep fogged brain to process her surroundings. She wasn’t in her bed, she’d gone home with Steve. And oh, god they’d slept together. She closed her eyes, flashes of the night before washing through her and settling her nerves alight again. But she was curled up in his bed, under his ridiculously fluffy blankets, surrounded by his scent. Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

She sat up and found her clothes neatly folded and stacked at the end of his bed. She pulled on her panties and her sweater. She glanced in the mirror on the back of his door and deemed the coverage satisfactory. She smoothed her hair out before venturing back into the rest of the apartment. As soon as the door was opened, she was met by the most tantalizing scent, and her stomach rumbled obnoxiously.

Steve was there in the kitchen, his back turned as he worked over the stove. He’d pulled on a pair of black sweatpants, but his top half was still bare. She let her eyes wander over him soaking in the sight once more.

She was sort of expecting the situation to be awkward. She had never been one to sleep with just anyone. But this wasn’t just anyone. This was Steve. He wouldn’t lead her on, or play with her emotions. If it was a one time thing, he’d make that clear. If he just wanted her to leave, he’d say so.

“Morning,” She said finally. Steve looked over his shoulder, a bright smile bloomed on his lips and made her tummy flip.

“Well good morning, sleeping beauty.” He looked back to the pancakes he was working on. And maybe it was just an excuse to not stare at how lovely she looked in the morning light filtering through his front window. “Did you sleep alright, doll?”

The name made her stomach flutter more than ever. She hummed and padded closer, bare feet meeting cold linoleum.

“Yeah, I did. Your bed is so much more comfortable than mine.” She answered. The little moment felt far too intimate. He was making her breakfast the morning after. But truthfully she shouldn’t have expected anything less from him. He was like a real life Disney prince.

“Good. You’re welcome to use it whenever you’d like.” The words caught her off guard, and for a second she was convinced he was teasing, but there was no laughter afterwards. “There’s coffee if you want. Cups are there in the cupboard, cream in the fridge, sugar on the counter there. There should be tea up there too, make yourself at home.”

“Coffee is perfect. Thank you.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek and reached to grab a cup for each of them. “How do you take yours?”

Steve gave her a quick glance. He would’ve been more than happy to spend the rest of his mornings that way with her. Pancakes stacking on a platter, bacon and eggs sizzling in the pan, and her making them their morning coffees. Maybe a few kisses, or a chat about their plans for the day.

“Black,” He answered finally. She nodded and busied herself filling their cups. She leaned onto the counter and held his cup out for him.

“You know, you didn’t have to make breakfast.” She sipped from her cup and wandered into the connected living room. There was a nice window that peeked out over the skyline. The sky was only just fading into blue, her favorite time of day.

“I know, but I wanted to. You had a rough day yesterday. I thought maybe this would help make today a little better.” As sweet as it was, it was absurd to think that anything could top the night they’d just shared, She’d had Steve, even just for a moment. “I hope you don’t mind pancakes. I was gonna ask, but I didn’t want to wake you up.”

She turned to take a seat at the small table Steve had laid the food out on. He nudged a plate towards her, and she took the lead in fixing it. It had been some time since she’d had a real breakfast. The dining hall breakfasts didn’t count.

“Thank you for everything.” She said quietly, popping a bite of her syrup-logged pancakes into her mouth. Not to self: Make Steve cook breakfast more often. He gave a little nod and took a bite of his own food. It was quiet for a long moment, just silverware against plates and soft jazz that (Y/N) hadn’t noticed before. The quiet was safe and comfortable, the way it always had been for the two of them. She thanked whatever god may be for that. However, the peaceful breakfast was cut short by the ring of her phone.

“Oh, that’s me.” She stood up, looking around for the device. But she hadn’t even remembered having it, her mind had been somewhere much more important.

“In the living room. I plugged it in last night.” Steve answered her unspoken question. She flashed him a grateful smile and pushed down the buzzing in her chest. He’d thought to plug in her phone. Could he be any more precious if he tried?

She sat down, looking over the notifications on her phone. She had a ridiculous amount of texts, two missed calls from Natasha, seven from Wanda, and even Pietro had tried her. So maybe it would have been a good idea to let Wanda know she wasn’t going to be home.

Hey I’m home. Got takeout!

Its late, are you still rehearsing?

Nat says she hasn’t seen you today. Please pick up

Did you get kidnapped?

So help me god (Y/N) pick up your damn phone

At least tell me you aren’t dead

You will be dead if you don’t have a good excuse

Can’t believe you’re disappearing on us the night before the showcase

It’s 3am if you aren’t here in an hour I’m calling the cops

Okay I didn’t call the cops but I did call Natasha

I think she hates me

Please call me

She felt a wave of guilt. Wanda always worried too much. (Y/N) said it was in her nature as a drama major. There were a few texts from Natasha too.

Hey, you okay?

Wanda’s worried, give us a call

If you don’t come back soon I’m killing your roommate

And one from Pietro.

Please help me, my sister is going crazy

“Everything alright?” Steve asked, peeking in at her. She nodded and waved her phone at him.

“Yeah, just forgot to tell Wanda that I wasn’t coming back. I should give her a call before she calls the cops.” She motioned towards his room before slipping away. She pressed the call button, and the phone didn’t even ring completely before Wanda picked up.

“Where are you? I was worried sick. You didn’t come home, you didn’t answer your phone, I thought you’d been kidnapped or something.” She rambled loud enough to make (Y/N) hold her phone away from her ear.

“Hey, Wan.”

“Don’t ‘hey, Wan’ me! Where are you?” Her best friend huffed from the other end.

“I’m sorry, I really am. I just got wrapped up, and I guess I just didn’t think to call you and tell you I wasn’t gonna be home.” She sat herself down at the edge of his bed. “I’m safe, I’ve been at Steve’s all night.”

“At Steve’s? Your boyfriend Steve?” It was easy to hear the anger in her voice give way to curious amusement.

“Yeah, okay. First of all, not exactly my boyfriend I don’t think. But yeah. I had a bit of a freakout last night. He came and calmed me down. We were out late, so we just came back to his place.” It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was hardly a lie.

“Oh my god,” Wanda shrieked and (Y/N) flinched, holding the phone at arms length again. “Oh my god, oh my — you guys had sex!”

Wanda giggled as her best friend stammered in a hopeless attempt to deny the accusations. Finally, she took a deep breath.

“Okay, okay. Yes, we slept together. And it was amazing. And then he plugged my phone in and he made breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, an entire meal.” She confessed quietly, glancing towards the door as if he’d be there eavesdropping.

“And you’re still talking to me because?” Wanda trailed off, and the look on her face was impossible to picture.

“Right, sorry. Home later, I love you.” She said her goodbye quickly before ending the call. She flopped back onto the bed with a quiet groan. This was all too good to be true, so she had to make it last just a moment longer.

[whole-lotta-hoes]

Whole Lotta Hoes| Crack Fanfic Mini Series

Episode One: Zeppelin Is No More

Episode Two: Looking For A Job

Episode Three:

Episode Four:

Episode Five:

Warning:

This will cause you to lose a couple of brain cells and question your sanity. It will include a shit ton of weird shit and things that don't make sense at all. Do not read if you are not ready for any of this, read at your own risk.

Cast:

John Paul Jones (Main character)

Robert Plant

Jimmy Page

John Bonham

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

Led Zeppelin is a band apparently. It's just a bunch of horny mother fuckers put together to make songs about sex. John Paul Jones was laying in bed with Robert Plant which he has no idea how that happened. He hoped nothing weird went down between them cause Jimmy Page would be so mad. oh jesus oh god you do not want to make that mother fucker mad. He'll literally turn you into a cheeseball and eat you. John got out of bed only to see that John Bonham was standing in the corner eating swedish fish gummies. He was not going to question it.

"Want some?" Bonzo asked him and he held one in his hand.

"I don't know you what the fuck!?" Jonesy yelled. He went to the baffroom and spotted jimmy trying to swim inside of the toilet. He believed he could do it if he tried hard enough.

"the oil supply demand is sky rocketing these days!" jimmy yelled as he got out of the toilet.

"Bitch do not touch me with your boo boo water," He warned him as he grabbed a toothbrush to use as a weapon. He learned how to make a knife with it in jail.

"Penis guitar playing is totes fun jonesy, you should try it," jimmie added. Oh mother fucker he is a heterosexual lad. Or that is what he said the other day when he ate some of robert's caramel popcorn. man he wondered how he even ended up in that stupid band. who's led and why does he have a zeppelin? you know some guy named their kid zeppelin but he claims that he didn't name him after the band. wait what were we talking about?

The band all decided to head to mcdonalds to eat happy meals. jimmy tickles.

"Guys! oh my god you will not believe it but britney is such a slut! ugh! can't believe she left me for a fish lookin' mother fucker-"

"No one gives a rats ass about your weird horny ass!" jimmy cut him off by yelling at robert. God damn that shithead has a huge ego but a small dick. Jonesy never understood why people liked him so much. He once stole his favorite pair of jojo siwa socks and claimed he never knew he owned any.

"You motherfuckers we're supposed to be going on tour!" Bonzo yelled as he swooped the food off the table.

"suck my asshole bonzo!" jim yelled.

"calm down pagey, he's just a meanie," robert added as he patted his head.

"y'all need to start realizing that no one likes you both!" jonesy snapped.

"shut up you're literally ugly and small and the bassist of led zeppelin and you look like heman with that stupid haircut of yours" Bonzo said as he ate jonesys burgers. damn that hurt.

"You know," jonesy began, "i don't need this job"

"what job?" robeet askes.

"shhhhh let the weirdo speak," jimmy said as he stuck his finger into his mouth.

"without me you will all suck asshole and no one will actually like led zeppelin," he explained.

the three slowly looked at each other and began to laugh their asses off at him.

"You act like you matter so much," robert added.

"shut up cheese cream! you're literally big and ugly and you look like you are 50 years old!" bonzo said as he drank his milk. that was funny. Jonesy felt his blood boil and grabbed his happy meal and stormed out.

-

It was the day of their shit concert. led zeppelin were backstage preparing to cause a dismother and set things on fire. preferably roberts underwear that pretty much doesn't exist in this case. the band stepped on stage and the crowd went wild.

"hello bananas-" That motherfucker fell forward into the drum set. oopsies. jimmy ran to him to make sure his hoe isn't dead or alive. fucking bon jovi.

"oh shit! robert plant is down!" he yelled. jonesy was absolutely done with them. they are nothing but a bunch of dumb fucks who ruin everything. He took out his laser penis and shot jimmy and robert to death.

"oh Motherfucker has a fucking laser pp! hija de su pinche madre!" jimmy yelled as he split in half. robert died again. bonzo just sat there blown away by the fact that that john paul jones just killed the front man and the guitarist of Led Zeppelin in front of millions of people. he was impressed.

"holy shit man you really-"

nope sorry but jonesy shot him too so he died. damn he could've let him live. meanie. oh wait im writing this so i could've.... ah man im too lazy to go back and fix it. too bad we're going with this plot now. Jonesy stepped off the stage and headed to the back.

"god dammit i hate everyone in this bloody world," he said to himself. he decided to hit the pub that was nearby to enjoy himself.

As he was sitting at the counter drinking something that is an alcoholic beverage. he began to spark ideas of what he could possibly do since led zeppelin died. He thought about starting a whole new band but he remembered that what caused him to kill led zeppelin. that was out of the shopping list for walmart. next was to steal money from the bank so he remains rich but he then realized that he is a famous musician and will get recognized quickly. fuck. he then thought of changing his hair to look less like heman cause that insult hurt.

"aha!" he shouted. He finally thought of something that could get him a shit ton of money. He drank the remaining drink from his cup and ran out of the pub.

-

he put on a thicc line of eyeliner, red lipstick, a black wig, fish nets leggings, high heeled boots, and earrings. oh man this is going to be hella great. His wife walked in to see what the fuck this small ass mothertrucker was up to this time. oh man i shat my pants.

"sweetie what the fuck are you doing!?" she yelled. Jonesy turned to look at her.

"led zeppelin is no more," he responded. She was so confused and wondered how the fuck she even ended up marrying heman. she had no idea what led zeppelin is no more meant and was hella concerned for his health.

"be back in a few days," he added as he broke his ankle trying to exit the house and rolled down the hill. oops it's not up the hill anymore. guess you could really say he went down hill. i hate myself so much. he walked down the sidewalk and ended up in someone's house. Motherfucker it's jimmy page's house. he stole his nice trousers or whatever those were. my teacher walked by as i wrote that btw. turns out they don't fit him cause jimmy is also a big hoe and jonesy isn't. shit. jimmy is embarrassing asf. that was pointless of him stealing so he stole his underwear. wait he wears those? imma look it up hold on. i didn't find anything about that so im just going to assume that he doesnt.

there was a picture of jimmy when he was with the yardbirbs and golly that is one ugly Motherfucker! he stole and stuffed it into his underwear. he got out of the house full of useless shit that he did not need at all. Then he forgot what he was doing. Jonesy continued walking down the street only to break his other ankle and rolled down the steep pathway. damn he's one dumb hoe bitch.

-

His laser penis was out of control. he just wanted to have a little me time but instead shot a whole through the wall of the motel be was staying in. god dammit. he removed his pp and switched it out with a normal pp. that's odd. his plan of overthrowing led zeppelin stressed him out. what else do you do when you're stressed? well can't say cause i ain't gotta peener. he got so bored. his days of not being in led zeppelin have been lame and was the worst idea he could even come up with. he didn't know what to do know. he can't just eat your grandma over and over again. he looked at himself through the mirror and oh my god I'm a sexy Motherfucker oh yeah bitch im THE BITCH. he needed to find something that'll keep him entertained for while.

babysitting was a bad idea. he got bitten by a bunch of goblins and gave him rabies. god i hate kids.

"hello motherfucker," jimmy said.

"OH SWEET MOTHER OF GOD DAD SHOES PENIS PLANT! I THOUGHT I KILLED YOU THE OTHER DAY!" Jonesy yelled as he jumped over the couch.

"Nah bitch that was just my twin brother Jamie Patricia Page," He added. "Bitch why are you dressed like a stripper?"

Oh yeah he forgot that was what he was going to do once he killed led zeppelin. he still can but now there's a little bitch with him named james patrick page.

"we should kill robert plant," jimny suggested.

"Bitch i already killed him, you're a little too late you duck whore," he responded.

turns out he didn't actually kill led zeppelin but instead killed their twin brothers.

"You want to overthrow led zeppelin into the trashcan?" Jonesy asked. "Thought that's what you and bert wanted to do...."

"Nah man.... percy is a very stupid penguin and is meanie.... he stole my jojo siwa socks," jimmy explained.

ah damn turns out robert plant is the villain of the story and should be died. he is too powerful. his hair will slice the fuck out of anyone.

"You got a plan?" Jonesy asked.

"i say we steal his pants and burn them and use them as an alternative to oil," he explained. damn science class. then this guy named bonzo showed up and began to beat them with his drum sticks.

"BONZO CALM THE FUCK DOWN! AHHHHHHHHH!!!" james yelled.

"sorry but robert said to beat you both with them!" bonzo yelled back.

jonesy dug through his pants and took out a bunch of swedish fish gummies.

"hey look! fish gummies! come and get it boy!"

"bitch what the fuck I am not some stupid dog for you to be doing that time of shit you small Motherfucker heman lookin hoe short shit," bonzo said.

"GIMME GIMME OH SHIT!" he attacked Jonesy.

jimmy page the god of led zeppelin stood there watching while cheering them on fight fight fight! it got in here so he removed his trousers and threw them at bonzo which ended up knocking him out.

"oh shit! your pants are powerful! we can use it to kill percy!" Jonesy shouted.

"NO! JIMBERT MUST GO CANON!" Jimmy yelled and jumped out the window. all you heard was splash. that motherfucker jumped into the pool and is now wet. that's a disturbing image. Jonesy rolled his eyes and went back to doing whatever the fuck he was doing. it all of a sudden got really bright outside. oh the sun came out cause it was cloudy. but wait! Jonesy looked out the window and spotted robert plant heading towards him.

"IM THE GOLDEN GOD-" that motherfucker fell inside of the pool and sizzled. cual pinche golden god ese no mas anda haciendo puros desmadres y estupideces de mario.

that was the end of led zeppelin.

[hakuogakuen]

Hakuouki SSL: Chapter 1 (Hijikata)

Here is the translation for chapter 1 of Hijikata’s route! Common route translation is  by yuugs, and the Hijikata-specific scenes translations are by shizuumi. Proofreading by shizuumi, kuririn and dei-hime. 

Translation begins under the cut! You can also find it on our new Blogspot

―― June ――

As the calendar turns to the next page, our uniforms turn to summer ones as well.

In April and May, I was so desperate to get used to high school life that the months just flew by….

Lately, I think I’ve finally made a place for myself in my life at Hakuo Academy.

Of course, it’s still an environment meant for boys so I still feel a little out of place. But thanks to my reliable friends and teachers, I’m living a fulfilling life at school——

Two months have passed since I began high school. It’s a clear and sunny morning in June. When I came to school, immediately after entering the building, the first thing I felt was an odd atmosphere.

As I climbed the stairs, just as I turned onto the landing——

Chizuru Yukimura: “Wah!?”

???: “Ah!”

I collided with the student rushing around the corner, and ended up falling on my butt.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Ow…" 

Susumu Yamazaki: "Yukimura-kun? Sorry…”

Hajime Saitou: “I told you not to rush, Yamazaki. Are you alright, Yukimura?”

I looked up into two faces I recognized. Saitou-senpai was holding a textbook under one arm. He held out his hand to me.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Ah… yes, I’m alright." 

Trying not to overthink it, I grabbed his hand and he pulled me upright.

Chizuru Yukimura: ”…Thank you for that.“ 

Chizuru Yukimura:: "I’m sorry, Yamazaki-senpai. I wasn’t being careful.”

As I bowed deeply to the two of them, I noticed a second year textbook had fallen to the floor.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Isn’t this your textbook, Yamazaki-senpai?”

Susumu Yamazaki: “O-Oh, did I drop it?  …I didn’t notice. Thanks.”

Chizuru Yukimura: “……”

Something was off. Yamazaki’-senpai’s eyes had kind of a glazed look,  and there were dark circles underneath them. Saitou-senpai also looked tired.

This seems…

[Are you alright?] or [Are you not getting enough sleep?]

Chizuru Yukimura: “Are you getting enough sleep?”

Susumu Yamazaki: “Well, um, that’s just how it is right now… It’s no big deal.”

Hajime Saitou: “Right. The real pain will begin next week or so." 

Chizuru Yukimura: “…?”

They smiled bitterly, and then turned away. As they did…their gait seemed uneven. They said it wasn’t a big deal, but it didn’t look that way.

Chizuru Yukimura: "I wonder if they’re okay…”

I was getting more and more worried, but I didn’t have much time left before homeroom. Without another word, I hurried off to my classroom.

_ _

All morning, the school had been filled with chattering students. The hallway before the classrooms was especially lively. Maybe it was because classes hadn’t started yet. Having gotten to know them over the last two months,  I exchanged greetings with my classmates in the hall as I headed to my classroom. On the way, I saw familiar faces in the distance and suddenly stopped in my tracks.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Heisuke-kun and Okita-senpai?" 

I thought that was a freshman classroom. Why would two sophomores be there? It would be time for homeroom soon…

[Call out to them] or  [Leave them alone]

Chizuru Yukimura: "Heisuke-kun, Okita-senpai!”

I called out to them, waving. Both of them noticed me and immediately came over.

Heisuke Toudou: “Yo, Chizuru. G’morning!”

Chizuru Yukimura: “Morning, Heisuke-kun.  Did you guys just come back from practice?" 

Souji Okita: "Yep. Been working like dogs all morning.”

They were part of the kendo club, which often met in the morning. On days when there was morning training, Heisuke and I couldn’t walk to school together. I got a bit lonely those days… But seeing him trying his hardest made me happy.

Chizuru Yukimura: “But why are you guys here?  This is a first year classroom…”

Heisuke Toudou: “That’s… well, the thing is… We were just passing by…”

Souji Okita: “Why not be honest? This guy came by ‘cause he was worried about you.”

Heisuke Toudou: “Ah! Hey, Souji!”

Chizuru Yukimura: “Worried…about me?” I blinked in surprise. Heisuke rubbed his head and mumbled.

Heisuke Toudou: “I mean, you’re surrounded by a bunch of guys, right? I’m worried they might pick on you or something.”

Chizuru Yukimura: “No, no, I’m alright. I’ve made a lot of friends in my class these past new months.”

Souji Okita: “There you go. Yet here he comes anyway, worrying his little head off about you. Pretty stalker-ish vibes, don’t you think?" 

Heisuke Toudou: "W-Who you calling a stalker! I’m not anything like one!”

I smiled at Okita-senpai’s and Heisuke-kun’s bickering.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Anyway, guys, I think the bell’s about to ring.”

Heisuke Toudou: "Oh, crap! You’re right!”

Souji Okita: “Well, we’ll probably see you at lunch later.”

Chizuru Yukimura: “Yup!”

After seeing them off, I went back to enter the classroom…

When I did, I took out my textbook and notebook to get ready for class. The bell rang as soon as I’d finished, and I heard the sound of the door opening.

Sanosuke Harada: “Take your seats, guys. Homeroom’s starting.”

As Harada-sensei came in, everyone rushed to their seats.

Classmate A: “Stand! Bow!”

Sanosuke Harada: “All right, morning!”

Everyone in class:  “Good morning!”

Sanosuke Harada: “Time for attendance…is what I was going to say, but it seems like everyone’s here. Raise a hand if not.”

Ryuunosuke Ibuki: “You can’t do that if you’re not here…”

Ibuki-kun startled me by suddenly speaking up. A laugh escaped me before I could stop myself. Harada-sensei did make jokes like this at times. He really was a friendly, kind teacher.

Sanosuke Harada: “Now then, you all started school two months ago, and now it’s June. With that being the case…Though you might already know this, our school’s midterm exams start in two weeks! Make sure to study diligently, you guys. Put your feet up and slack off, and who knows what horrors you might be tempting?” Harada-sensei smirked as if he knew something we didn’t.

Ryuunosuke Ibuki: "Horrors…?”

Sanosuke Harada: “If you think this’ll be the same as tests back in middle school, you’ll be in for a bad time. As you all know, Hakuo Academy has a teacher that’s much more passionate about educating its students than other schools do.”

Chizuru Yukimura: “Passionate about educating, meaning–”

Ryuunosuke Ibuki: “…It’s Hijikata-sensei, isn’t it?”

Sanosuke Harada: “Well, so it goes. Following a certain teacher’s suggestion, there’ll be penalties for students with lower scores. Those scoring less than 50% in a subject will receive a special homework assignment, and must clean all the school’s windows.“

Everyone in class:  ”……“

As Harada-sensei with his explanation, everyone in class got paler and paler.

Sanosuke Harada: “Below 30% gets you cleaning corridors on top of the additional homework… And below that, the punishments get extra special.”

Chizuru Yukimura: ”'Special,’ he says…“

Sanosuke Harada: "Below 20% means doing a problem set, weeding the school yard, and a week of additional classes!”

Classmate A:  “Whaaaaat?!”

Sanosuke Harada: “Sorry, but it’s already set in stone. Don’t like it? Then study like there’s no tomorrow. I don’t think anyone should get lower than 50%. If you study then you’ll be in the clear, right?”

While listening to Harada-sensei, I recalled what happened this morning. The reason why Saitou-senpai and Yamazaki-senpai seemed so off was probably this.

Chizuru Yukimura: “……”

While I didn’t mind studying, there was no way I’d want extra homework.

Ryuunosuke Ibuki: “What would that guy do to me if I got myself stuck in supplemental classes...?!” Ibuki’s face drained of all color, and he hung his head. 

This was going to be difficult. I would have to brace myself… The midterm exams would begin the week after next. Although I thought June’s hardships were over, the real battle was just around the corner. 

_ _

After morning classes had finished, it was finally time for lunch. ‘Am I worrying too much about the tests? I feel kind of weird today,’ I thought.

Chizuru Yukimura: “I should go to the cafeteria for the time being.”

Heisuke-kun and Okita-senpai were probably waiting for me…After quickly putting my school supplies away, I headed for the cafeteria.

For Hakuo Academy students, there were essentially three ways to get lunch. Some students brought a bento from home, and some bought their lunches at the school store. But the most popular lunch choice was to buy a meal from the cafeteria. 

Chizuru Yukimura: “Wow…”

The school lunches were all delicious and affordable. It was no wonder they were so popular. I usually brought a bento, but sometimes I didn’t feel like having one. Since it was so popular, it was jam-packed by the time I got there.

Genzaburou Inoue: “Hey, you there! Line up properly! There are plenty of meals to go around...Hey now…! Don’t argue over the rice! Remember your manners and share!”

The beloved school chef, Inoue-san, was also managing the cafeteria. It looked like he was doing a good job sorting the students out, as usual.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Heisuke-kun isn’t here yet, huh…?” ‘I’ll get in the way if I stand and wait here. What should I do?’ the moment the thought passed through my mind...

???: “You’re in the way. Move.”

Chizuru Yukimura: “Huh…?”

A voice rang out from the other side of the crowd. Immediately afterwards, the masses parted, splitting into two. Imperious as ever, the figure which emerged between them was...

Chizuru Yukimura: “K-Kazama-senpai…”

Amagiri-senpai and Shiranui-senpai pushed away annoyed students left and right, creating an empty clearing in the otherwise crowded cafeteria.

Chikage Kazama: “Chizuru…? For us to meet here of all places… How serendipitous. As I thought, there is a strong bond of fate between us. Don’t you agree?”

Chizuru Yukimura: "Wha–”

Kyou Shiranui: “Is it? You go to the same school with the same cafeteria. Wouldn’t it be weirder if you didn’t see each other?”

Kyuuju Amagiri: “It is strange, now that you mention it... That you have never encountered each other here until today is rather more mysterious.”

Chikage Kazama: “……”

Kyou Shiranui: “Don’t sound like much of a bond to me.”

Chikage Kazama: “……No matter. Whatever the peanut gallery says, rest assured that our meeting today was destiny. As such, I will have your lunch prepared.  Order whatever you wish.”

Chizuru Yukimura: “Huh?!”

Chikage Kazama: “What’s wrong? There’s no need to hold back. Even if you want everything on the menu, I won’t mind.”

Chizuru Yukimura: “That’s not what I’m worried about…! At any rate, treating me to so much is unfair to you!”

Chikage Kazama: “That modesty is a virtue of yours, but I insist that it’s fine. ....Or is it something else? Does the cafeteria food not suit your palate?”

Chizuru Yukimura: “T-That’s not the case at all! It’s delicious! It’s just that……”

As I shook my head, the number of people waiting for food was increasing. Maybe because of how we stood out in the middle, other students couldn’t get in line…The people who were stuck around us were getting angry. ‘W-What should I do…?’ I was so conflicted that I could feel tears starting to form in my eyes. Then–

???: “You again, Kazama!!” An ear-splitting yell descended upon us.

Toshizou Hijikata: “Just what do you think you’re doing, harassing the female student in the middle of the cafeteria? Can’t you see she’s about to cry!?”

Chikage Kazama: “Ha. How ludicrous… You say that as if I were the one who made her cry.”

 Kyou Shiranui: “…You say it, Amagiri.”

Kyuuju Amagiri: “Well, I can say we never intended in the slightest to make her cry…”

Toshizou Hijikata: “Then why is she holding back tears? …And why is everyone packed like sardines in here? Out with it.”

Chikage Kazama: “My wife’s eyes are full of tears due to her gratitude for my superb generosity. As to the cafeteria, it just happens to be crowded today. To falsely accuse a single student of being responsible is unbefitting of a teacher such as yourself.”

Toshizou Hijikata: “There’s a suspicious clearing around you and you only! Put two and two together, and it can only be your fault!”

Hijikata-sensei and Kazama-senpai always fought like cats and dogs, and their terrible relationship was infamous at school. Sparks flew the moment they met, and it only ever grew more and more extreme.

Chizuru Yukimura: “……”

When I saw Hijikata-sensei coming earlier, I thought everything would be sorted. It relieved me from the bottom of my heart… But far from improving anything, the situation seemed like it was only going to get worse.

Chizuru Yukimura: “…W-What do I do…?”[Stand and watch] or  [Forcibly break them up]

I was a bit scared to intervene, but if I didn’t do something, they'd trouble even more people. Summoning my determination, I took a deep breath and called out to them.

Chizuru Yukimura: "U-Um, Hijikata-sensei, Kazama-senpai!"

Chikage Kazama: "Look now, Hijikata. Your quibbling has even annoyed my wife as well. If you've so much time to kill that you can stick your nose in other's love lives, why don't you go on and eat whatever you do for lunch?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Um...! The people around here are...!"

Toshizou Hijikata: "I was on my way to eat when I had to deal with the nuisance in the room... By the way, don't get it twisted. She isn't married to you, nor does she plan on marrying you."

Chizuru Yukimura: "......Please listen to what I have to say!!"

Hijikata ＆ Kazama: "———"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Anyway, let's clear out of here!"

I forcibly grabbed both of their arms, and dragged them out of the cafeteria.

Chizuru Yukimura: "...Don't you realize that making such a racket would bother everyone else?"

My heart was still pounding from raising my voice... But looking back at the cafeteria, the traffic seemed to smooth itself out thanks to the odd clearing going away.

Toshizou Hijikata: "...You're absolutely right. When Kazama is involved, I tend to lose my head."

Chizuru Yukimura: "N-No... I'm sorry as well. I think I was a little too aggressive..."

Chikage Kazama: "...What are you whispering about over there? Hijikata, don't stand so close to my wife. Put some distance between you."

Toshizou Hijikata: "......"

Chikage Kazama: "Hmph... It seems that you finally understand the position you're in. Now, with you more at ease, I will permit you to eat with me, wife of mine." 

Chizuru Yukimura: "Huh...?"

Kyuuju Amagiri: "As expected of Kazama-sama. The instant the conversation starts to simmer down, he brings it right back up to a boil again, toute suite."

Kyou Shiranui: "Why does that impress you?"

Amagiri and Shiranui had followed us out of the cafeteria and had begun the a running commentary. But I wish they would help stop it, not play along with it…!

Chikage Kazama: "Hehehe, Hijikata… You've gone quiet all of a sudden. Do you have no further comebacks? If so, then leave my sight. Never speak up against my and my bride’s romance again!”

Toshizou Hijikata: "...You no-good little...!!"

Kyou Shiranui: "Hijikata's irritated but he's putting up with it well. Now that's the response of a respectable adult."

Kyuuju Amagiri: "Although Kazama-sama is winning, I do wish he would reflect upon his childish behavior..."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Please, tell him something that important directly...!"

Although he has to keep quiet putting up with this, Hijikata-sensei looks ready to explode. And so, I…

Chizuru Yukimura: "U-Um!"

[Sensei! I have a question!] or [Please ask me next time] or [I promised someone else]

Chizuru Yukimura: "Hijikata-sensei, I have a question!!"

Toshizou Hijikata: "...What?"

I'd no choice but to distract him myself. Trying to change the subject, I opened my mouth, and desperately began to ad-lib:

Chizuru Yukimura: "There's actually something I wanted to ask you about classical literature! I'm having trouble with interpreting the Paulownia section in the Tale of Genji..."

Toshizou Hijikata: "Hey. You don't even have your textbook with you. What are you saying? Have you memorized it?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Uh..."

Chikage Kazama "...How boring."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Huh...?"

I was confused, Hijikata-sensei looked amazed, and Kazama-senpai looked dissatisfied.

Chikage Kazama: "Just where has this conversation ended up? Don't tell me you forgot I was here?!"

Kyuuju Amagiri: "Well, the tests are soon upon us. Everyone is concerned with their studies during this time. That's simply how it is."

Chikage Kazama: "My interest has dwindled... Let's go."

Kyou Shiranui: "Huh?! What about our lunch?!"

Kyuuju Amagiri: "...Give it up, Shiranui. We'll just buy bread at the school store.

Kyou Shiranui: "Damn it! I was looking forward to eating the cafeteria food!!"

With Shiranui-senpai dissatisfied and Amagiri-senpai troubled, they went to chase down Kazama-senpai, who had already left.

Toshizou Hijikata: "Good grief..."

With those three out of sight, Hijikata-sensei let out a sigh.

Toshizou Hijikata: "Thanks, Yukimura.  ...You couldn't bear to just watch, so you interrupted on purpose, right? We would've argued to no end if you'd left us to our devices. I appreciate you stopping us."

Chizuru Yukimura: "N-No, I didn't really..."

Toshizou Hijikata: "That being said, it seems you’ve caught the interest of some pretty weird types, haven’t you..."

Chizuru Yukimura: "I'm alright, but I do wonder why Kazama-senpai is so interested in me..."

Toshizou Hijikata: "Beats me. I've known him for a long time, but I still can't tell what he's thinking. Don't think about it too much."

Chizuru Yukimura: "...Yes, sir..."

Toshizou Hijikata: "Also, if you really have a question, come and ask me anytime. ...Do you like classic texts?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Yes!"

Toshizou Hijikata: "I see...” a smile flickered on Hijikata-sensei’s face. “There are plenty of others besides the Tale of Genji. Look forward to them.” Then his expression turned stern. "That you need to be careful now goes without saying. Don't neglect studying for your tests."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Yes. I've definitely braced myself for them.  I'll study well!"

After giving me a slight smile, Hijikata-sensei left. 

Feeling grateful for his kindness, I smiled at his back as I watched him leave.

As the days went by, the older students, who already knew how severe the penalties were, grew more and more desperate. Seeing them also made us grow more anxious as well, as freshmen. The strange tension that enveloped Hakuo Academy just kept growing stronger.

And then…

――  7 days until the tests ――

While we studied for our tests day after day, Harada-sensei looked around at our exhausted faces and grinned from his podium.

Sanosuke Harada: “Looking good, guys. It looks like you lot finally understand how serious we are about our tests.”

Ryuunosuke Ibuki: “What does he mean, 'looking good’? This is just agony…”

Sanosuke Harada: “Hey, don’t say that. It’s not like I don’t get what you’re going through. Just think of this as a rite of passage. This is what you signed up for enrolling into Hakuo Academy. There’s no turning back now. Anyway, just do your best.”

Everyone in class: ”……“

What he said was irrefutably correct. Everyone lost the will to argue, and went silent.

_ _

――  6 days until the tests ――

That day, I ran into Kazama-senpai in the corridor without expecting to. Naturally, Amagiri-senpai and Shiranui-senpai were shadowing him, as usual.

Chikage Kazama: “Chizuru. Less than a week remains until testing begins. Are you studying properly?”

Chizuru Yukimura: "I am. I’m working at my own pace, and it’s going fairly well, I think…”

'How about you, Kazama-senpai?’ ...I felt like I didn’t even need to ask. Why? Because he seemed plenty calm, a smug smile spreading across his face.

Chikage Kazama: “These students growing so flustered over mere high school tests is truly unsightly. Don’t you think so?”

Chizuru Yukimura: “Uh… T-That’s…”

Kyou Shiranui: "Uh, no, 'cause high school students are bound to freak out over high school tests. Rather than unsightly, it’s just normal.

Kyuuju Amagiri: ”…Kazama-sama. If we do not depart soon, you will be late for your next lesson.“

Chikage Kazama: “Hmph. Whether or not I attend any classes, there’s not a single thing the test will cover that I won’t understand… But very well. Let us show our faces in class for today. Well then, I bid you farewell.”

I was left standing alone in the hallway, overwhelmed as Kazama-senpai swaggered off with an arrogant look on his face.

_ _

――  5 days until the tests ――

Chizuru Yukimura: “Good morning, Saitou-senpai.”

Hajime Saitou: “Is that you, Yukimura? Morning.”

Chizuru Yukimura: “You still have disciplinary committee work in the mornings even though we only have five days until the tests. That must be hard…”

Hajime Saitou: “No, it’s important to accumulate knowledge on a regular basis in order to study properly. So there’s no point in panicking just before a test.”

Just what you’d expect from Saitou-senpai…

Hajime Saitou: “However, all sports and culture clubs have suspended their activities for the tests. So since Heisuke’s not with you, he must be late. One strike for him.”

Chizuru Yukimura: “N-No, he’s on class duty today, so he should’ve arrived before me!”

Hajime Saitou: “Come to think of it, he might’ve passed by a short while ago…”

Looking at him more closely, I could see the dark bags under Saitou-senpai’s eyes. On the surface, he looked as dignified as ever, but his grip on his pen looked a little shaky, too. Perhaps Saitou-senpai was staying up late studying too…

_ _  ――  4 days until the tests ――

On Saturday, I was studying in my room, when suddenly my cell phone rang.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Okita-senpai…?”

‘A message with a picture attached, as usual. Let’s have a look…’

He’s making a peace sign at the camera, with an odd-looking plushie hanging from his hand.

“I won a toy that I thought you’d like. 

I’ll give it to you at school. 

I’ll bring it up to your classroom for you, even.”

Chizuru Yukimura: “……”

‘What kind of tastes does he think I have? Moreover…’

Chizuru Yukimura: “Even though it’s a Saturday with tests right around the corner, he still finds time to fool around!”

_ _ 

――  3 days until the tests ――

It was Sunday morning.

I decided to do a little sweeping by the front door for a change of pace. At that moment, Heisuke appeared, staggering.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Heisuke-kun?! Are you okay…!?”

Heisuke Toudou: “Chizuru… Mornin’…”

He had terrible, dark bags under his eyes and his eyes were hollow. He was so exhausted that he couldn’t even walk straight.

Heisuke Toudou: “I-I’m on the verge of falling asleep… So I’m running a lap around the block. Must…stay…awake…”

Chizuru Yukimura: “But if you don’t sleep a little, you won’t last until the test!" 

Heisuke Toudou: "No way! I’m not done studying yet! I’ll totally flunk it!! Don’t stop me, Chizuru! Don’t stop me! I’m not ready to die yet!”

Chizuru Yukimura: “Wait, Heisuke-kun! A whole lap around the block is too much no matter how you look at it—”

I tried to stop him, but he’d already run off... While watching his disappearing figure staggering in zigzags down the road, I could only pray for his safety.

_ _ 

――  2 days until the tests ―― 

During recess.

I gathered my class’s printouts and brought them to the staff room…

Toshizou Hijikata: “……”

Hijikata-sensei, looking particularly annoyed, was sighing deeply. He looked no better than the students, just as exhausted by pre-test frenzy.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Is something wrong, Hijikata-sensei?”

Toshizou Hijikata: “Those guys are so tired from cramming that they sleep through my classes. Because of them, I’m screaming my lungs out every morning. Classes are a key part of test preparations. Their priorities are all backwards!”

Chizuru Yukimura: “…You’ve been working really hard…”

I think they just stay up all night studying out of fear of punishment… Even though I understood Hijikata-sensei’s concerns, I couldn’t help but smile wryly.

__  

―― At last, the day before the test ――

Chizuru Yukimura: “Finally, it’s tomorrow…”

At the end of the school day, while I was putting away my textbooks, I glanced to to the desk beside mine…

Ryuunosuke Ibuki: “……”

Ibuki-kun sat here, engrossed in his studies, showing no signs of getting up to go home.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Ibuki-kun, aren’t you going home?”

Ryuunosuke Ibuki: “Ah… I wouldn’t be able to study even if I did. Since Serizawa-san’s there...”

Ibuki-kun often mentions him when we talk. It seems like he doesn’t get along with this ‘Serizawa-san’. With him looking so cornered, I could only bring a forced smile to my lips.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Do your best.”

Ryuunosuke Ibuki: “You too.”

He gave a little smile, and then, as if he were clinging onto his desk, dived back into his books for the test.

At that moment…

Chizuru Yukimura: “?”

I noticed my phone vibrating in my pocket and took it out. A message notification came up on my screen.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Oh, it���s from Sen-chan.”

Sen is my friend who attends Shimabara Girls’ High School not too far away from my academy.

—–

Sub: Will you be okay for the test?

Chizuru-chan, are you going to be okay for the tests?

I can’t take it anymore~!

I just want to run away from it all~!

But, after we get through these midterms, we definitely need to hang out! 

I will survive them on your moral support, Chizuru-chan!!

—– 

Chizuru Yukimura: “I see. They have tests at the same time as us. Shimabara High is a sister school to Hakuo Academy, come to think of it…”

“Jeez, Sen-chan…”

Having read her message, I decided to reply right away. ‘But what should I write?’

[Looking forward to it!] or [Concentrate on studying!]

"'Don't try to escape reality!' ...Send."

We have to concentrate on our studies now. I told her that in a reply, and after a little while…

—–

RE: Will you be okay for the test?

Chizuru, you're too serious…

—–

Chizuru Yukimura: "...W-Well, I should study for tomorrow."

I messed that one up. My chest tightened a little. I'll properly make it up to her once the tests are over and done with. Having decided that, I left the classroom. 

‘Now then…’

Chizuru Yukimura: "Guess I'm not heading home right away today. I'll stop by the library."

Just like Ibuki-kun said, there are all kinds of distractions at home that might hamper concentration. ‘Tomorrow's test day. The real deal. I have to do my absolute best today!’ 

I headed to the library with that in mind, but it seemed that everyone else had had the same idea. The library was practically overflowing with students. It was much more crowded than usual. I managed to somehow find an open seat, and started revising my notes.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Uh-huh..."

I started with Classical Literature for 30 minutes. Before I went on to cover the questions I didn't get, I suddenly stopped writing.

Chizuru Yukimura: "...Right. I should find a reference book since I'm at the library..."

With that in mind, I went through the bookshelves sorted by subject to look for the book I needed.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Ah...Is it that one?"

There it was, on the topmost shelf: a reference book on classical literature, complete with a glossary. Hijikata-sensei recommended this one, saying it was especially useful, since it included detailed explanations as well.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Hm...Huh...Alrighty then..." 

I reached for the book on the top shelf with all my might. But with my height, I couldn't reach it even while stretching my hand.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Just a little further...!"

???: "You looking for this one?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "......"

A hand suddenly stretched out from behind me, the scent of tobacco surrounding me. I froze. And when I turned around in my confusion, his face was much closer than I expected.

(CG get!°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°) 

Toshizou Hijikata: "Ahh… This is the book I recommended. I see you remembered it, huh? Kids these days don't appreciate all you do for them. You recommend them some books, meaning to be helpful, and they just forget the moment they're out of the classroom."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Whoa!!" Belatedly, I yelped in surprise.

Toshizou Hijikata: "...You're real jumpy, aren't you? Relax a little."

Chizuru Yukimura:: "S-Sorry..!"

That was such an idiotic reaction on my part. My face flushed with embarrassment the moment I realized it.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Um, it's just… I never thought that I'd see you in a place like this."

Toshizou Hijikata: "Whether I'm here or anywhere else in the school, I'm still a staff member here. I visit the library too when I need to."

Chizuru Yukimura: "...I see..." ‘What do I do?’ I was so embarrassed I wished I could run away...!

Toshizou Hijikata: "Here, take it."

Chizuru Yukimura: "T-Thank you for helping me."

Toshizou Hijikata: "You're welcome. But still... The library is usually so deserted. But before a test, it's swarming with people. If only they were always this willing to study without needing to be motivated by penalties. That'd be much better."

Hijikata-sensei nodded bluntly, looking over the library with a somewhat bewildered expression.

Toshizou Hijikata: "Anyway, Yukimura. Haven't I told you that you can ask me anytime if there's something you don't get in classical literature?"

His stern gaze had me fidgeting nervously, but I decided to speak my mind.

Chizuru Yukimura: "But... You've been looking very tired lately... I felt bad wasting your time by bothering you with questions..."

Toshizou Hijikata: "So I really look so tired that even students have started worrying, huh.” He nodded solemnly; it seemed he was perfectly aware of his own exhaustion.

Toshizou Hijikata: "More importantly, how are your studies going?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "R-Right. I think I'm working hard enough that I won't suffer any penalties."

For a brief moment, a faint smile flickered on Hijikata-sensei's face. But it turned into a strict frown the very next second.

Toshizou Hijikata: "Yukimura. I'll tell you now: You won't get any special treatment. The fact that you're the only girl in the whole school in no ways means that we'll go easy on you."

As he fixed me with a stern look, I said…

[I'm ready to face it.] or  [I'll be fine!]

Chizuru Yukimura: "I'm gonna be fine!"

Toshizou Hijikata: "I-...Is that right...?" Hijikata blinked in surprise at my cheerful response.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Thinking about the penalty does get me a little nervous... But it'd be unfair for everyone else for me to get a lighter punishment just because I'm a girl."

Toshizou Hijikata: "But it was meant for the boys in the first place. Cleaning the whole school may end up needing a lot of physical labor... That'd be much tougher than doing the homework, don't you think?"

He carefully chose his words, as if trying to make sure that I understood what he meant.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Even if it's tough, there's no helping it."

Toshizou Hijikata: "......"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Everyone in the academy already attends so much to my needs. On top of being able to attend the same school, I shouldn't let myself be spoiled by everyone's kindness too much..."

As I carefully spoke my mind, Hijikata-sensei nodded silently.

Toshizou Hijikata: "It's good that you understand that. You know, any other student in your position could've said something pathetic along the lines of: I'm a girl, so please go easy on me'... I would have deeply regretted accepting you into our school if you turned out to be like that."

As he said that, his gaze on me was surprisingly calm.

Toshizou Hijikata: "Yukimura. You've got guts. That's one of your strengths. Keep doing your best."

Chizuru Yukimura: "...I will!"

He gave me a little smile and nodded at my words. Seeing that, I relaxed a little as well.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Um, Hijikata-sensei. Can I ask you one thing?"

Toshizou Hijikata: "What is it?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "There's something I got curious about while we were talking... Could it be that you were the one who came up with the idea of having penalties?"

Upon hearing my question, the soft expression on Mr. Hijikata's face changed momentarily.

Toshizou Hijikata: "...Well, yeah. Maybe it's a bit too harsh, but I absolutely must raise the schools’ grades by all means possible. If it's for the sake of students’ grades… I'm willing to do anything."

In his eyes, I saw a glimpse of something hidden deep within his heart.

Chizuru Yukimura: "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have asked you that."

Toshizou Hijikata: "...No, it's fine. Anyway, don't you also think that the penalties are too strict?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "...I don't know. It's my first time facing them, so I don't know how I'm supposed to feel. But..." After a brief pause, I continued, "There's a reason you had to do it this way, right? In that case, I'll trust your judgement, and do my best as well."

Hijikata stared at me with a look of surprise. And then…

Toshizou Hijikata: "You're pretty cheeky, aren't you?" His face unexpectedly relaxed into a droll smile. "I assume you're going to stay here and study for a while, but be sure to return home before it gets dark. Nothing good will come out of last minute cramming anyway. ...Got it?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Yes, sir. Thank you very much."

As I bowed, he nodded in return and then quickly left the library.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Well, I'll go work for a little longer...!"

Thanks to chatting with Hijikata-sensei, my mind had cleared up. I felt like I could definitely solve all the questions that seemed too hard for me before. After all, with the reference book that Mr. Hijikata recommended, I had a powerful ally on my side.

__

The day of the test had finally arrived. It was time for the real thing at last. I studied as much as I possibly could,  but still felt a bit anxious…

The tests had finally started. I thought back to Hijikata-sensei's words. Even though my nerves made me freeze up somewhat, I could feel myself gradually growing calmer.

Chizuru Yukimura: "Okay... Let's do this!"

[Minigame Pass]

Chizuru Yukimura: "I'm in good condition. I'll do fine."

The test today had a blank column in which I was able to fill out my answer sheet completely. ‘This must've also been thanks to Hijikata-sensei...!’

Then, several days later…

Chizuru Yukimura: "What a relief...!"

I saw the test results that had been posted on the notice board, and it lifted the weight off my chest. Of course, avoiding the penalties put me at ease, but I also got a better grade than I expected.

Toshizou Hijikata: "Well done, Yukimura."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Mr. Hijikata!"

Toshizou Hijikata: "Kids who don't normally study like they mean it already couldn't get grades like these even if they tried."

‘Could it be that he came here to praise me...?’ Thinking that made me feel somewhat embarrassed.

Chizuru Yukimura: "I got such good grades thanks to you, Mr. Hijikata." 

Toshizou Hijikata: "Huh? What do you mean?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "In the library the day before the test, you gave me that pep talk."

Toshizou Hijikata: "Ohh, that... You'd have known all that even if I hadn't said anything."

Chizuru Yukimura: "Even so, Sensei... What you said really resonated with me."

Toshizou Hijikata: "...I see."

Chizuru Yukimura: "I'll work hard and study diligently every day!"

Hijikata-sensei nodded with a little laugh and kept speaking.

Toshizou Hijikata: "The next time you have any questions you don't understand, don't be shy. Make sure you come and ask me, since that's part of my job as a teacher. ...Got it?"

Chizuru Yukimura: "Hijikata-sensei..."

It was a little embarrassing, but hearing that made me happy as well.

Chizuru Yukimura: "...Thank you very much."

Not only did I feel relieved that I avoided the penalties, but having Mr. Hijikata's praise on top of that made me so happy...

I really felt glad that the test results came out. If they hadn't, I wouldn't have been able to see Mr. Hijikata's smile in the least.

_ _

At last, the tests were over, and the results had been announced…The tension gradually seeped out of the school, and everything slowly went back to normal.

After school, after the test results were announced…I was on my way out of the school building to return home when…

Isami Kondou:  “……”

Chizuru Yukimura: “Just now…was that Kondou-sensei?” 

Kondou-sensei went around to the back of the school.  When I saw that, I paused. ‘There isn’t anything over there, so where is he going…?’ I thought it was kind of mysterious.  And so, egged on by my curiosity, I jogged after Kondou-sensei. I went further behind the school… I’d never set foot back here before.  After reaching his destination, Kondou-sensei suddenly stopped.

Isami Kondou:  “……”

‘What is this place…?’ Towering in front of me was an old gate, and my eyes widened. ‘To think there was such a place here, right on academy campus…’

Isami Kondou:  “……”

Chizuru Yukimura: “Um…”

Isami Kondou:  “Hm… Yukimura-kun? Why are you here?”

Chizuru Yukimura: “I’m sorry. I saw you heading this way, and curiosity got the better of me…”

Isami Kondou:  “Ahh, so that’s what it was.”

Kondou-sensei smiled in understanding,  and turned his gaze back towards the gate. The old wooden door was shut tightly, looking like it hadn’t been opened in a long time. It had been two months since I began studying at Hakuo Academy, but I never knew such a place existed until now.

Chizuru Yukimura: “Um, Kondou-sensei.  What is this place…?” 

Isami Kondou:  “‘The Shieikan.’”

Chizuru Yukimura: "Huh?”

Isami Kondou:  “…That’s what it was called, at least. There used to be a swordplay dojo here by that name.”

Chizuru Yukimura: “Used to be?” 

Isami Kondou:  “Yes. As you can see, it’s closed now. There are no students here; there’s no one at all. But the teachings of that dojo are certainly still being passed down… That’s what I believe.”

There was a look in his eyes; almost as if he were lost in a different time, far from the present. I got the feeling that this must’ve been a very important place to Kondou-sensei.

Isami Kondou:  “I always come here whenever I want to return to my roots…This place, the Shieikan, is Hakuo Academy’s starting point.” 

Kondou-sensei put his hand on the place where I expected the sign must have once hung, and his eyes shut, lost in nostalgia.

…'Shieikan.’ As if to confirm the word, I mouthed it to myself. That name… I felt as if I’d heard it before…

Chizuru Yukimura: ”……“

Looking at me as I thought about it, Kondou-sensei smiled and kept talking.

Isami Kondou:  “Yukimura-kun, it looks like the sun is about to set.  Don’t you think it’s time for you to head home?” 

Chizuru Yukimura: “Oh, right. That’s true. It’s already so late…” 

Isami Kondou:  “By the way, I heard from Toshi.  It looks like you got some magnificent test results this time around.”

Chizuru Yukimura: “Hijikata-sensei said that?” 

Isami Kondou:  “Yes, you’re the most talented woman in the history of Hakuo Academy! It truly is magnificent!” 

Chizuru Yukimura: “…Thank you very much.” 

There was no hint of lies or flattery in  Kondou-sensei’s cheerful words… I remembered how he delivered them while walking away, and I felt a little embarrassed.

Isami Kondou:  “A student has a duty to study, so I want you to continue trying your hardest! But of course, it’s not just your studies. If you also have fun living your everyday life at Hakuo Academy... As this school’s principal, I’d be very happy!” 

Chizuru Yukimura: “Yes!” 

Returning his nod as he smiled, I looked back at ‘Shieikan’ only once. He had called it the ‘starting point’ for the school. I wonder what that meant…? Questions along those lines came to mind, and I couldn’t help but wonder at such a mystery…

Anyway, I would do my best from here forward. I smiled, in high spirits.

[heyyyharry]

Christmas Eve (one shot)

...in which Y/N can't stop thinking about the love that got away.

Angst with fluff, artist!Harry

Word count: 3.2k

HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVE!

~~~

“Did you know that standing while eating burned more calories?”

“That’s so not true.” Her boyfriend scoffed as he took her hand and pulled her away from the buffet table.

“Buffets make you fat. Now that’s a fact.”

She faked a smile when he burst out laughing at his own joke which, as always, she didn’t find funny.

It was Christmas Eve and they were at a friend’s house for a party that was supposed to be fun. But as she looked around at the sparkling and colourful decorations and drunk party people chatting and dancing and drinking wine, Y/N couldn’t get herself to feel as happy as her boyfriend expected her to be. She had suggested spending Christmas Eve at home where it was just the two of them, but he didn’t like that idea and now she’d started to regret coming here with him.

They walked around, saying hi to a few friends, well, his friends, to whom he didn’t even bother to introduce her. But thanks to the guy who’d brought up a controversial topic and got the others riled up, her boyfriend got distracted and she managed to sneak away.

Y/N only wandered around the house for a bit before ending up at the buffet table again. Eating made her less socially anxious, so she always looked for food when she was at a social gathering and didn’t know anyone. But to be honest, she wasn’t even hungry or anxious now. She just wanted to stay far away from the crowd. And maybe, just maybe, she was hoping for something else.

.

.

.

“Did you know that standing while eating burned more calories?”

As soon as Y/N finished that question and the person turned around, she wanted nothing more than to dig herself a hole. With a plate of sweets in one hand, a cupcake in the other, the stranger gave her the kind of look that one would give you if you showed up in a party dress at a funeral.

“Really?” He popped his dimples, not wanting to embarrass her even more as she covered her face with both hands, groaning loudly.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry. I thought you were my brother.”

It was only when the man let out a soft chuckle that she gained the courage to drop her hands and glance back up to his face. She almost blurted out that her brother wasn’t half as good-looking, but thankfully she stopped herself just in time.

“Harry,” he said as they shook hands. His handshake was firm, and she loved people who gave firm handshakes. Especially good-looking people.

“I’m Y/N.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, chuckling nervously. “Sorry about that again.”

“It’s fine.” Harry gave a shrug, raising a finger. “Interesting fact though. I think I’ll be standing while eating from now on.”

“It burns at least 50 calories more." 

Y/N quickly covered her mouth, but Harry seemed rather impressed by that knowledge than weirded out by it.

“You’re funny, Y/N. Want a cupcake?” He offered her the plate, grinning from ear to ear. “Have one and we’ll stand here and talk to burn all those calories.”

Y/N couldn’t help but snort then rolled her eyes and grabbed a cupcake. How wonderful was it that she'd completely forgotten they were at a party she didn’t want to be at, and she was supposed to be looking for her brother and ask him to take her home. She barely knew this guy, but she wanted to, and she’d rather spend Christmas Eve getting to know him than go home and be alone.

They chatted for a bit, switching topics constantly but never running out of things to say. Harry told her he didn’t know many people there and had only come because his sister was dating the party host and wanted to hook him up with one of his friends, who, fortunately, couldn't make it tonight.

“Aww, that sucks.”

“Don’t lie,” he said, beaming at the way she pouted. “I know you’re glad my potential date didn’t show up.”

“Are you implying that I’m flirting with you?” She crossed her arms and her little gasp made him cackle.

“Oh, so you’re telling me you really thought I was your brother?” He raised an eyebrow before looking around the room. “Where is this brother who looks like me anyway? I haven’t seen him.”

Smirking, she grabbed both of his shoulders and spun him around, pointing to the man in the same plain blue sweater standing across the room.

“Oh, shit.” The smile on his face dropped, making her guffaw. “He does look like me from that angle. Now I’m embarrassed.”

“Nah, don’t be.”

“Why? Because you were flirting with me?” He turned back, his dimples had reappeared.

“In your dreams.” Y/N scoffed and looked away, but from the smirk on his handsome face, she knew he could tell she was lying.

.

.

.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you could make it!”

When Gemma greeted her with a tight hug, she was startled and speechless for a full second. It’d been so long since they last saw each other let alone had a proper conversation, and the weirdest thing was how she had expected to see Gemma there, but was still surprised to run into her.

“How long has it been? Eight months?” Gemma pulled away, still holding her shoulders.

She gave a shy smile, tucked her hair behind her ear and murmured, “ten.”

She really wanted to tell Gemma she’d missed her and her family, and the only reason she hadn’t talked to them for ten months was because of her ex, Gemma’s brother. She had thought it would’ve been weird to have stayed in touch with them after the breakup, but it was nice to know Gemma had been thinking about her.

“I thought you weren’t coming!” Gemma said, making her chuckle.

“Well, it was a last-minute decision. We were gonna have a small dinner at home but then we figured it’d be more fun here.”

By ‘we’, she meant ‘my boyfriend’, she just didn’t want to say it aloud; and judging from the look on Gemma’s face, the older Styles might already know the truth.

Gemma nodded once and turned her head to look at Y/N’s boyfriend who was talking to her fiancé and a few other guys. Who would have thought her current boyfriend would be friends with her ex’s sister’s fiancé? Was it really a small world or was she just really unlucky?

Gemma changed the subject by asking about her life, her new job, her new relationship. After all, there had been a lot of ‘new’s for her in the last ten months as for Gemma, but no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t pay attention to Gemma’s stories. She felt awful for it, but couldn't help it. It was almost like a curse. She still saw him in his sister, in the way she talked, in the way she smiled and in the look in her eyes. He was everywhere, all around her, inside of her. And in a split second, she wondered, had it ever been the same for him? Somewhere in Paris, at that very moment, was he seeing her too?

.

.

.

I don’t want a lot for Christmas

There is just one thing I need

I don’t care about the presents

Underneath the Christmas tree.

“Oooh, I love this song! Come on!”

“No, I hate it!” Y/N burst into giggles as Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her to the middle of the dancing crowd.

Dancing wasn’t her thing. She was too awkward to not feel self-conscious whenever she did something like that in public, but that night, with him, she felt nothing but joy and she couldn’t stop jumping around and screaming the lyrics she’d got tired of hearing at every Christmas party.

“I just want you for my own! More than you could ever know! Make my wish come true! All I want for Christmas is you!”

Harry was singing at the top of his lungs as was she. He had both arms locked around her waist while hers were around his neck. Suddenly, he asked, “what do you do for a living?”

“Huh?”

“What do you do for a living?” he repeated the question, this time pressing her against him to whisper into her ear. And she liked that, she liked being close to him.

“Uhh…I own a clothing shop!” she uttered, laughing nervously as they kept on dancing. “You?”

“I’m an artist.”

“Oh, you draw?”

He proudly nodded. She loved the passion in his eyes when his career was brought up. What could you ask for more in a man?

“I paint too,” he added. “And I know what you’re thinking.”

“What?”

“Artists don’t make a lot of money, if at all,” he said, making her gasp.

“I’m offended, sir! I was actually thinking, ‘wow, an artist? Hot!’“

When she started fanning herself, he tossed his head back and laughed out loud. Then he spun her around and she stumbled back into his arms, her hands on his shoulders, their foreheads together.

“You gotta show me one of your works later.”

“Sure.” Harry chuckled. “I can even draw you, if you want!”

“Like one of your French girls?”

The Titanic reference made him snort.

“Oh, that's even better,” he said, giving a playful smirk. “I hate drawing clothes anyway.”

.

.

.

She still had it in her wallet. Her portrait sketched on a piece of scrap paper he’d found in Gemma’s boyfriend’s living room. She had told herself to throw it away along with the rest of his stuff in her drawers, but after two years, it was still there, safe and good as new.

She sat alone on the stairs, staring at the portrait and a nonchalant smile slowly spread across her lips without her knowing.

I don’t want a lot for Christmas

There is just one thing I need...

A different remix of the same song took her back to that night. She would blame it on the champagne she’d had earlier, but deep down she knew those memories were her safe haven and she had let herself drown in them by choice.

Right there, by the Christmas tree, she saw the two of them. It was scary how she still remembered vividly the clothes they'd worn that night. They were younger, carefree, and happy. And they were dancing and singing and having the best time of their lives. And she smiled a broken smile while watching herself and him fade away while holding each other tightly.

Reality sank back in, and what she was really looking at made her jaw drop.

She saw her boyfriend kissing another girl.

The son of a bitch must have thought she’d gone home without him so he didn’t even bother to hide. But with all those people around them, those who knew her, was he not ashamed at all? Or did he not care enough to be ashamed? Whatever, she thought, it didn’t matter anymore.

She stormed toward them and yanked the cheater away from the other girl. Before he could open his mouth, her fist collided with his nose, causing him to stumble backwards and hit a table. She gasped in pain. Everybody gasped in shock. And without waiting for the asshole to react, she flipped him off and marched away, not wanting to waste another second on a loser like him.

.

.

.

“Are you done yet?”

“Almost!” Harry giggled as he pressed the end of his pencil to her jaw to adjust her face. “You don’t rush art, Y/N. Now stop moving.”

Y/N could easily see the mischievous grin on his face, so she stole a quick glance at the piece of paper on his knee and realised he'd already finished.

“Hey!”

Harry burst out laughing when she took the piece of paper from his hands.

“I finished five minutes ago. I just wanted to mess with you.”

She shot him a glare, yet couldn’t hide the little grin on her face when she admired the drawing. “This is really good, Harry.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I know nothing about art but...I know talent when I see one.”

“That...” he gripped the left side of his chest, his bottom lip quivering, “doesn’t make any sense.”

Y/N swatted him on the arm as he tossed his head back, cackling. “Just take it as a compliment," she said.

“Thank you.” He smiled. “Consider that as a Christmas present. Merry Christmas.”

“Aww, but I have nothing to give you.”

Harry didn’t respond. He only smiled. It was really strange how she’d only known this man for a couple of hours and yet she found it so easy to read him. They leaned closer at the same time, their forehead resting against each other, their noses brushing.

“Lady first,” he jokingly whispered while stroking her cheeks. And with a beam, she closed her eyes, slowly closing the distance between their lips and kissing him lightly.

.

.

.

“We’ve kicked him out,” said Gemma as she sat down on the couch with Y/N and wrapped both arms around her. “Are you okay?”

Y/N took a moment to rearrange her thoughts. “Yes and no,” she said with a sigh.

Her answer resulted in a frown on Gemma’s face. “That sounds bad.”

“Yeah, well...I’m sad, but...not because of him.”

It was the first time in ten months that she’d admitted to someone that she was sad. Even though it didn’t magically make her problem go away, it did feel slightly better to get it off her chest.

Gemma didn't need to ask her why. She only nodded, because she already knew.

“Have you...talked to him?”

“Since he left?” Y/N scoffed, still fidgeting with her phone. “No. He never called so...I thought ‘why bother?’”

“He asked about you, you know?”

It was only then that she looked up, unable to hide the hopefulness in her eyes. "He did?"

Gemma nodded once. "He was afraid you’d never forgive him for what had happened.”

She guessed Gemma was waiting for her to answer. But what? What was even the question?

“I don’t know, Gem,” she breathed. “I-I just knew from the moment we met that he was passionate about his career and that was what I loved about him and...and I would’ve sacrificed anything for him to be where he is now...working in Paris, owning a gallery, becoming recognised for his hard work.” She took a short pause to suck in a breath before her eyes fell back to her hands on her lap. “I just...I just wish he’d given us a chance. I know...a long-distance relationship is really hard, but what if it’d worked out for us? We might still be together now, but we’ll never get to find out because he didn’t want to even give us a chance. And I...I didn't even...didn't even get to say goodbye. He just got on a plane and...and left...He c-could've said goodbye...”

Gemma was at a loss for words when she saw Y/N tear up. Knowing Gemma, Y/N guessed she'd wanted to say "it's going to be fine", but after everything that'd happened tonight, even Gemma couldn't tell that lie to her face. The long heavy silence that followed was the sign for Y/N to get up and wipe her eyes.

“I’d better go home," she said, hugging herself.

Gemma quickly stood up. “Don’t you want to celebrate Christmas here? There’s only a few minutes left.”

“No, I’m good. Thanks for everything, Gem." 

When Y/N reached the door, she suddenly remembered one thing.

"Gem?"

"Yeah?"

"The next time you talk to him...tell him he’s forgiven." Her lips curved into a small smile. "And I wish him the best. I really do."

.

.

.

“Why don’t people countdown on Christmas Eve like they do on New Year’s Eve?”

“Probably because we’re just more eager to say goodbye to the old year?” Harry gave a shrug, squeezing her hand a bit tighter.

They continued walking down the street together. It was getting cold, so she stayed close to his side and they were sharing his scarf, which was thankfully long enough for them both.

“I guess the feeling of starting a new chapter is more exciting,” he added, shoving her hand and his into the pocket of his coat, their fingers stayed intertwined. “It gives us the feeling of being more in control. Like, it’s easier to draw on a beautiful blank page than on top of another drawing or a crumbled piece of paper.”

His example made her grin. “You’re such an artsy nerd.”

“You’re lucky of all people you could’ve met at that party, you ended up leaving with an artsy nerd.”

The playful remarked earned him a swat on the arm but also another peck on the cheek.

“Does this count as starting a new chapter?” she asked, grinning up at him.

He pursed his lips, thinking for a second before locking eyes with her again. She felt like she was dreaming, but he reminded her that she wasn’t by giving her hand another squeeze. Then he looked at his watch, inhaling deeply.

“Fifteen seconds.”

“14...13...” she started counting and he joined her as well.

“...5...4...3...2...Merry Christmas!”

Harry grabbed the girl by surprise, pulling her in for a passionate kiss that took both of their breath away. And when they broke apart, Y/N couldn't help it, she had to kiss him again. She wished this night would last, or at least they would.

Will you stay, Harry? Will you stay with me?

.

.

.

Y/N had underestimated the cold tonight. She tried walking faster, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, but the night air was blowing out her heat faster than her own body could replace it.

She should’ve driven there by herself. No, she should not have come at all. How could she be so stupid to think she could just jump into a new relationship and find instant happiness when she obviously didn’t even know the guy that well. She'd paid the price by watching him make out with another girl and getting her knuckles bruised because of that.

Merry fucking Christmas!

Wait...

Y/N stopped in her tracks and hurriedly pulled out her phone. She raised her left wrist to check the time on her watch.

Ten more seconds.

“10...9...8...7...” she started counting, her heart was beating in sync with the ticking of the watch. She didn’t really hope that something magical would happen when she counted to one. She just wanted for this to be a fresh start, a new chapter written on a brand new page.

“3...2...”

Ding!

A text popped up on the screen of her phone right when the clock showed 12:00 AM December 25.

Merry Christmas

From...

...Harry.

Her entire body turned paralyzed. She gripped her phone tightly, afraid it'd slip and crack on the hard pavement and she would never get to know if that text was real. Her hand was shaking right now, but before she could get herself together, another text popped up.

Harry: Turn around.

And she did.

"Hi..."

And there he was.

"I'm home."