#however college came in the way and I lost track of it
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xoxo-sarah · 6 months ago
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Foolish One
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Read Part 1 to better understand.
↝a/n: got the idea from @thefanfictionkingdom 🩷 hope you enjoy. I'm not good at titles, so I just used the song that you said part one reminded you of. Hope that's okay.
↝pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
↝warning: angst, talk of previous breakup, heartbreak, not my best writing, not proofread, Steve regretting letting you go
|| Disclaimer: I do not own Steve Harrington or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||
↝⎙ 7.20.24
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A year has passed since Steve had last talked to you. A year since you had to put yourself, your emotional state, first. He didn't blame you, he couldn't. But he would be lying if he said he didn't miss you.
The times you spent laughing, goofing off, and even just sitting in silence, he missed it all. He didn't realize how much those moments meant to him.
It wasn't until after Nancy had broken up with him, that he wasn't blinded by love for Nance. He saw that he hurt you.
He couldn't just show up at your house and tell you how sorry he was. Mostly because you weren't at your house. You had moved away for college right after senior year. Spending that summer with friends you had met when visiting the college campus.
You had moved on.
Steve thought he had.
If so, why did he think about you so often? Driving on the familiar road that he took when going to your house, his mind always came back to you, the sad look in your eye the last time he saw you. The spot of his couch that you always cuddled. His bed, that once smelt like you, until it didn't, and then smelt like Nancy. He missed when it smelt like you.
You were always on his mind. The determination as you stomped away from him at the last party you had attended was always on his mind.
You didn't find time to go to silly little highschool parties, mostly in fear of seeing Steve and Nancy being all lovey-dovey–your heart couldn't take it. Becoming more of a homebody was the best decision you could make, given your situation.
Walking down the next aisle of the grocery store, Steve's feet glued themselves to the floor.
His eyes raked over your figure. You were turned away from him, but he couldn't deny it was you. His fingers twitched against the shopping basket, the memory of him running his fingers through the strands flashing in his brain. The sway of your hips when you walked further down, bending over slightly to look at the different boxes of cereal.
You had to be back home to visit family for Summer.
Mouth agape, he took you in. How you hadn't changed much, but he could tell you were happy. Happier than you were with him.
Steve couldn't deny that he had changed as well. He had grown and matured. Enough to see what he had lost when he let you go. He treated you wrong and he saw that now.
Maybe that's why his feet moved before his brain could register it. Walking closer, Steve held his breath, going over what exactly he was going to say to you, how was going to apologize.
He didn't register someone walking down the aisle, right toward you. He did however register it when a hand secured itself on your hip, and a beaming smile lit up your face.
Stopping in his tracks, Steve could only watch as you looked up to the guy, leaning into him.
You used to do that with Steve.
You used to cling to him, wanting him around you in every way. Cuddling up to him, kissing at the spot right under his ear, holding his hand.
The thought of you doing that with the guy that stood beside you made him sick.
Gawking at the look in your eye, the same one you once had for him, Steve felt himself stepping back, glancing at the stuff on the other side on the aisle to look busy.
Hearing your laugh, Steve felt a pang in his heart. Why did it hurt so much to simply hear you finally getting what you deserve? It wasn't fair, Steve knew it. You deserved to be happy. Even if it wasn't with him.
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•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•
•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]
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shomatoriashi · 5 months ago
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08/10/24; 04:00pm
sung jinwoo x reader / sung jinwoo x cha hae-in
{ oneshot - angst to fluff }
- the academy arc -
{ we can’t be friends | but i’d like to just pretend | you cling to you papers and pens | wait until you like me again | wait for your love | love, i’ll wait for your love… }
perhaps you were destined to suffer with this unrequited love, you think to yourself while sneaking glances at jinwoo, watching as he turned the pages of his textbook while jotting down notes within the confines of his notebook.
currently, you were both studying for your upcoming college entrance exams. jinwoo had invited you over to his place, and you were settled within the quiet sanctuary of his room. surrounding you were pieces of jinwoo that made your heart turn even softer for him, and you swore you would never get used to how his scent seemed to permeate at the air. taking a break from your own studying, you decide to admire the various trophies he had won during his time spent on the track team.
of course, such winnings came as no surprise for you, since he had always been shockingly athletic. that fact has never changed-
however, his reasoning for joining track in the first place was what made your heart clench painfully within your chest. you recalled that day like it was just yesterday...
it was the first day of high school, and you recognized jinwoo from your elementary school years. gathering your courage, you decided to sidle up to his desk, earning a smile from him when you disclosed your identity to him. as you struck a conversation with him (reminiscing on old times), some rambunctious guys began heckling jinwoo while they surrounded both you and him. they made you incredibly nervous, and as one of them reached out to you, jinwoo immediately stopped them from grabbing you, standing from his seat as he spoke in a stern tone.
"leave her alone. if you want to get to me, then talk to me directly."
your eyes go wide when the boys seem to freeze up before moving stiffly away from you, their steps shaky and uneven, like they were puppets being controlled on a string. seconds later, they were all tumbling into the hallways, making your eyes go wide. a soft chuckle was heard coming from jinwoo, and once you looked back, you saw the secretive smile on jinwoo's face.
you may have had a crush on him at that very moment.
after that day, you cling to jinwoo like a lost puppy, having stars in your eyes at the mere sight of him. you comment on how much taller- on how much braver he had gotten since you had last seen him. while you gushed on him, he simply gives you a kind smile in response.
"thanks... i guess you could say i've worked out a little bit since i've grown."
"a little bit? jinwoo, you practically tower over everyone here! you must have plans to join an athletic club or something, right?"
jinwoo ends up considering your words with a hum before smiling back down at you. "i suppose i'd like to give track a try... after all... there's someone i'd like to meet."
his admission makes you stop dead in your tracks, your heart clenching just the tiniest bit when you see the warmth within his stormy gaze. he was clearly thinking about someone achingly special to him... and that made your throat close up as you struggled to get the words out.
"oh really? who is she?" you were surprised at how even your voice came out, unsure of why you were feeling this way over meeting an old friend again. jinwoo meets your gaze from your periphery and gives you a kind smile. "she's someone that's special to me... and i've waited a long time to meet her again."
that final confession was what ultimately stops you in your tracks, your heart aching at the fact that you would never get such a chance to be with jinwoo, especially when his heart had already been captured by another.
he notices the way you stop walking next to him and stops as well, eyes appearing wide when he asks if you were okay. you manage to let out a forced laugh, not wishing to admit the truth to him when you told him how you forgot you had a meeting with an advisor (a lie you had made up on the spot).
jinwoo ends up believing your lie and nods, walking closer to you so that he was now settled directly in front of you. amusement was seen in his gaze, and you could feel your breath become taken away by the sheer beauty and kindness of his smile. his large hand reaches out to you, and he ruffles it before stepping back, "okay, i'll see you tomorrow then. i'm going to head to the track field and talk to the coach about joining."
you nod and lift up your hand in a wave, watching jinwoo as he walked away from you with a heaviness felt in your chest.
since then, you tried to avoid him, or at least, tried to put some distance between you and him, yet jinwoo could never seem to take the hint. ever since that first day, he had already deemed you his best friend, further trapping your heart with the tendrils of love and affection you felt growing for him.
you spent the next three years remaining by his side, studying with him while supporting his efforts with each tournament he attended. yet instead of growing out of your crush for him, it grew to genuine feelings of love for him.
and this fact did little to hide the pain and envy you felt each time he answered her calls or eagerly replied to her texts, sometimes even going as far as meeting her during weekends to take her out on cute little dates-
looking back at him now, you felt your heart ache with the sheer amount of concentration was seen on his face. he was working so hard to be with her, to build a future with her-
a future that you were certain you could never be a part of.
in the midst of your reveries, jinwoo meets your gaze and gives you a smirk, "what are you looking at? is there something on my face?"
you shake your head and look back down at your textbook. since jinwoo admitted his feelings for this young woman named cha hae-in to you, you threw yourself into your studies and managed to make incredible grades. due to your own heartache, you decided to study abroad to get away from south korea, wishing to attend university in the united states, within the city of new york, to be exact.
you didn't think they would accept you, yet by some miracle, you were chosen to spend 4 years at a university there, hence why you were currently studying up on english grammar. however, there was a catch-
you had yet to tell jinwoo about your plans for college.
letting out a deep breath, you give your best friend a tiny smile before beginning to speak.
"jinwoo, i'm so sorry, but there's something i have to tell you."
he ends up frowning at your choice of words. "okay, what is it?"
with a heavy sigh, you shut your books and tell him, all while stuttering along the way, "uhm, w-well, you know h-how our school offers a s-study abroad program for u-universities we wish to a-attend?"
jinwoo's frown seems to deepen. "yes, i know about it."
"w-well, i signed up for the program a-and got accepted... i'll be moving to america soon."
hearing the news makes jinwoo drop his pen in response. "w-what? you're going to america?"
you could feel the anxiety coursing through your veins, "y-yes... i got accepted into a university in new york city and plan to leave near the beginning of january."
"NEW YORK CITY?!" jinwoo suddenly jumps out of his seat, his eyes widening so much that it seemed to bulge against his features, "t-that's so far away from here... why did you choose to go so far?"
to be as far away as i can be from you and the woman you love. but you don't tell him the truth, choosing to tell him a half-truth of sorts when you answer, "i've spent my whole life here, jinwoo. i think it's only natural for me to wish to expand my horizons and experience new things."
"y-yeah but... it's four years... what if you decide to never come back here?" jinwoo's voice becomes quiet all of a sudden, with his fists remaining clenched against his sides.
you let out a soft laugh, packing up your belongings one by one into your backpack. once everything was neatly in place, you stand back to your full height and meet with jinwoo's gaze. "it's okay... i'll be sure to keep in touch by texting you or calling you... but, i-i hope you'll forgive me if i forget or am too busy to call..."
an unreadable expression was seen in jinwoo's eyes, and for a brief moment, you could have sworn that his eyes flashed purple before going back to its original slate grey hue. not wishing to cry in front of him, you cling to your backpack and quickly excuse yourself, not even able to find the words to apologize to him for telling him such news of your departure so suddenly.
while you made your escape from his room, you were unaware of how jinwoo's intense gaze focused on your shadow, seeing loyal, glowing purple eyes looking back at him in understanding...
{ ... }
why was jinwoo such a mess now that you were no longer here?
after working so hard to pass the entrance exams for the last few months, he had plans of spending some time with you before you left for america... yet when he arrived at your place, you were nowhere to be found as your parents had told him that you had already departed for new york-
it had only been november at the time-
so you had lied to him as well?
and why did jinwoo's heart felt like it was on the verge of breaking?
your sudden departure coupled along with your obvious deception made jinwoo's heart clench with an unknown emotion. here you were, thousands upon thousands of miles away from him, leaving jinwoo feeling like he was drowning.
all of those shared laughters and inside jokes-
the times you spent remaining by his side during each and every one of his track meets-
and those late nights spent studying together, falling asleep together within the comfort of his bed-
had everything been all for naught?
with your absence drilling a hole within his heart, he found that not even hae-in's calls and texts could bring him out of this slump. jinwoo admits to how her beauty and awkward kindness had once ensnared his heart, making him think of nothing but meeting her again once he reset his timeline-
yet now, with you so clearly gone from his life, he found that he could not focus on anything but the memories he had of you-
memories of your smile and the way you would snort each time you tried to hold back your giggles while in class-
memories of how you would hide your face within his shoulder each time you watched a horror movie together, as if trusting him to shield you from all the monsters-
memories of how he could spend hours on end simply watching you sleep-
and it was only when you left him that he realized the truth of his feelings-
that you were the one he felt the most comfortable with... that by the end of the day, he would always need you and you alone...
with thoughts of you pushing him forward, he decides to finally come clean to hae-in one late afternoon on christmas eve. he wears his usual coat with a dark pair of jeans, expression forlorn as he felt conflicted with potentially breaking her heart. while walking across the streets of the city, he stops walking, already sensing her presence when he turns around to face her.
hae-in's hands were outstretched, bewilderment painting her beautiful expression. "there you are." jinwoo manages to smile at her, making hae-in take a step back as she brushes a hand across her golden strands of hair.
"it's like you have eyes in the back of your head, jinwoo." she hums and steps closer to him, "you took your college entrance exams last month, right? congrats. are you still going to the university you chose before? you got really good grades, so why are you set on going to that university?"
that was when things began to feel awkward on jinwoo's end. he coughs and was unable to meet hae-in's curious gaze. looking away from her, he shakes his head, "no, unfortunately, my plans have... changed since then."
hae-in seems taken aback by his confession, and jinwoo feels a wave of empathy coursing through his veins when he notices her expression, "i-it's not because of a woman, is it?"
jinwoo tears his gaze away from her, unable to give her a truthful answer without hurting her. yet, it seemed as though his silence was more than enough, making tears fill at her grey eyes as realization dawns within her tearful expression. "o-oh..."
with a shake of his head, he steps closer to her, "i'm sorry, for breaking our promise so suddenly. i thought... i thought i knew what i wanted... but... looking back on it now, she was the one who was by my side from the start."
hae-in's shoulders began to tremble in response, further filling jinwoo with guilt. "she was my best friend... and... she left me to pursue her dreams in america. now that she's not here, i feel... lost without her..."
"y-you wish to follow her?"
jinwoo closes his eyes before giving hae-in a nod. "i do."
a sob was heard escaping from hae-in, and jinwoo could feel the way she shoves him away from her, body trembling as she ran back home. his expression was filled with regret, watching hae-in running away from him. the soldier he had placed within her shadow lengthens in response to her movements, and jinwoo knew that she would be protected even if he wasn't around.
{ ... }
there was an odd sense of freedom felt coursing through your veins when you moved into your dorm, ready to start the semester. you were still surrounded by suitcases that held each and every one of the items you had deemed important to you.
as you took out each item from your suitcase, your eyes go wide when they saw a thick photo album you had no recollection of packing. taking it out, you watch as a note fluttered out of it, recognizing your mother's handwriting as it read:
i just wanted to pack you a little surprise; memories of your home, of family and friends who wish for nothing more than to support you. come back home and see us soon. love, mom
with tears filling your vision, you open up the album and flip through the first few pages, laughing at each picture before turning the page once more-
this time landing on a photo that had you and jinwoo smiling at the camera.
seeing his handsome face makes your heart well up with emotions you thought you had tossed aside. as your fingertips shakily trace at his handsome features, a sense of guilt filled you. you had purposely ghosted him, wanting nothing more than to leave south korea, just to put some distance between you and the man you had always loved-
a man who you believed with all your heart would forever remain an unrequited love.
unable to handle the pain of seeing jinwoo's face, you slam the album shut and let out a shaky breath. hot tears were felt streaming down your face, and your sadness was so potent- so palpable that it made the blood rush to your ears.
in fact, you were so distracted that you didn't hear the knocks at your door for several minutes. you gasp and look toward your front door, taking shaky steps toward it as you unlocked it.
"s-sorry, i was distracted, are you my roommate?" you spoke in english, earning a grunt from the person you assumed would be your roommate.
a deep hum was heard, "damn right i am." his face was covered by a huge box in his hand, and you saw the way his long legs kicked his suitcase inside, with your head tilted in response. you notice how he also spoke in english, yet there seemed to be a hint of an accent in it. a strange sense of familiarity fills you, and when you close the door was when your roommate puts down his box-
revealing himself to be sung jinwoo.
your breathing comes out in uneven breaths, with you taking a step back while meeting jinwoo's annoyed gaze. "jinwoo?!" you speak to him, reaching out to him with trembling hands. "t-there's no way... is it really you?"
jinwoo remains silent, simply taking casual steps closer to you, effectively trapping you against the wall. "who else would it be?" his reply was casual, and you flinch slightly upon feeling the way he brushes back your hair. with both hands settled against the wall, jinwoo prevents you from moving as he looks down at you, grey eyes shining with amusement.
your heart was felt pounding within your chest, making the heat travel all the way up to your cheeks when you shakily ask, "w-what are you doing here? aren't you supposed to be with hae-in?"
the jerk had the nerve to smirk at your question! he ends up humming in response, taking a hold of your hand to press a kiss against the back of it "are you jealous?"
you end up sputtering in response, "are you teasing me?"
he hums, "and what if i am?"
before you could answer, jinwoo ends up taking you directly within his embrace, chuckling as you struggled to get out of his powerful arms. "jinwoo!"
he simply hums once more before settling himself on the couch with you, hands already delving themselves into your hair as he leans in to give your cheek a kiss. such a sudden display of affection was enough to make your head spin as jinwoo tightens his hold on you. "when you left was the moment i realized you had taken a part of me with you... a part of me that i never wish to have returned."
his words manages to stun you, all coherent thoughts ceasing as pure and utter hope fills your gaze. he smiles down at you in a loving manner, choosing to frame at your face while continuing, "it hurt me, realizing how you chose to leave so suddenly without even telling me goodbye... but shockingly enough, it was thanks to your absence that i realized the reasoning for your departure was because of me all along."
"jinwoo..." tears fill at your vision, making jinwoo slowly lean down to press you against the couch in response. his gaze was intense, and he brushes back your hair before telling you, "you left because you loved me... yet i was too stupid and blind to realize it... until now..."
your breathing hitches when jinwoo leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. you eagerly respond to him, kissing him back with a fervor (pouring all of the yearning and heartache you felt for him building up within those 3 years). jinwoo groans against your parted lips, deepening the kiss momentarily before pulling away from you.
jinwoo's handsome features were all you could see when he smiles down at you, and you allow his large hands to delve themselves into your hair when he kisses your forehead once more, "i love you... i realize that i cannot live without you... so please... will you promise to remain by my side and never leave me again?"
his question makes you giggle, eyes filling with absolute adoration for him when you lean up to press a kiss against his lips all while reassuring him, "i promise..."
that was the moment the years spent yearning for him (along with your heartache) vanished completely as jinwoo captured your lips in another breathtaking kiss, swallowing the sounds of your laughter completely…
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end notes: this is so self indulgent for me (⺣◡⺣)♡ but it was so worth writing. currently unedited, but i'll make any necessary changes once this is posted. once again, i don't trust tumblr to keep my drafts for long 😭 🙌🏻
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
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psylocke142 · 5 months ago
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Nightmares
Sana x fem!reader
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synopsis: Sana keeps having nightmares, recurring and always the same. Sana can’t help but think that it’s something important. There’s a message she’s missing. Something feels familiar about her dream.
w/c: 4.3k
warnings: death; accident; angst(?); trauma
a/n: i wrote this as a sana x fem!reader fic but it’s more of a sana centric fic. some roommate misana. this was a draft of a “book” i wanted to write in high school. i was proud of the concept of this fic back then. still am. not too sure how i feel about the final product…but it’ll do.
----------------------------------------------------
It’s a brisky night as Sana is walking down the street. A cold gust of wind blows in Sana’s direction, making her hands seek refuge in the pockets of her jacket. She looks up into the sky as she languidly treads to cross the street. No specific destination in mind yet. She begins to get lost in the starless sky, wishing she could live in some place where the stars are more visible.
Sana lives in Seoul, a big city with towering buildings and a vibrant nightlife. It’s a charming city filled with much to give. To Sana’s disappointment, the light pollution from all the buildings just so happens to block the starlight away.
A heavy sigh is released from her chest as she continues her stroll. Her body is starting to feel heavy and in need of some rest. Something Sana knows she needs but never looks forward to.
She had gone out for a night walk downtown, which was a short distance walk away from her apartment. The honey-haired girl had dreaded going home after work, so she headed to the heart of the city to walk around and waste time. Prolonging the needed rest and increasing her exhaustion.
There was nothing for her to do at home either. Sana had a small cafe she built from the ground up, making enough to pay her half of the rent. Her family is in Japan and her friends seem to be strangers. Being drifted away by busy work schedules and other circumstances. Sana didn’t care much, at least she pretended not to. Her duties at the cafe gave her enough work hours to not think too deeply about it. She has Mina. The younger girl is Sana’s roommate, who currently seemed to be the only person in her life. Maybe, that was all she needed.
Mina is the quiet type. They had met after high school, looking for someone to lessen the load of responsibilities in apartment rent and college tuition. They’ve been inseparable ever since. Mina has always been respectful and would never poke her nose in places it didn’t belong. She still cared about Sana though. Which is why Sana’s phone vibrated from the pocket of her worn-out denim jeans.
Mina: are you almost home?
Sana: went for a quick walk, be there soon.
Mina: ok. be safe.
Sana: will do.
Sana pocketed her phone and began to head to her apartment, obeying Mina’s unspoken order to come home. She always did. On occasion Sana would lose track of time during her night walks and receive a similar text from Mina telling her it’s getting late. Sana always replied and would head home, she had no reason to ignore Mina’s request.
The two women aren’t very communicative with each other. However, they had grown to care for one another throughout the years of living together. Text messages being one of the ways they showed their fondness for each other. Sana would often bring leftover goods from the cafe, sharing them with Mina. In turn Mina would look out for Sana, more so recently, by making sure she never came home too late and stayed safe.
The streets became more familiar the closer she got home. Sana passes by the convenience store that’s next to the park. Said park being across her apartment complex. Originally, she had planned to occupy an empty bench to sit. There is no one there since it is already dark outside. The basketball court always filled throughout the day with old men chasing after a ball. Couples spread across blankets. Mid-age women jogging in groups as they gossiped about the neighborhood drama. Children running, their sneakers scuffing the gravel of the playground. Laughter and screams echoing in the air. A complete contrast to the park’s atmosphere once the sun subsides.
Her plans would have to wait for another night.
Sana reaches the end of the park and finds her apartment complex in view from across the street. As she is crossing, she begins to drift off in her head. Wondering whether Mina will be waiting for her, maybe reading in the living room. Her mind brings up old memories. She thinks of her future. Her failures. She ends up wandering to a beautiful silhouette in her head. One she can’t put a name or face to.
Strayed in a haze of thoughts Sana crosses the street to her apartment. As Sana steps onto the curb of the other side, she hears the loud screeching of tires and a piercing honk. Sana turns rapidly, the sight before her paralyzing, blood in her body running cold in an instant. The fight or flight response muffles her senses, deafening her momentarily. She squints to the pickup truck with beaming headlights. Then to the person laying prone on the floor. Sana is frozen in place, stunned by the truck’s collision. Before she can gather her bearings, the vehicle reverses and flashes away from the scene in front.
Sana runs to the person, finally coming out of her paralytic state, with each step her heartrate begins to double. Worry and fear going up by the millisecond. Approaching the unknown person, Sana crouches to their level with arms reaching out. Flipping the person into her arms, her eyes widen and her heart stops. Feeling all the oxygen escape her lungs in shock. Sana wanted to back away instantly but was once again paralyzed.
The person she had placed into her arms was — herself.
This mortified Sana and she couldn’t tear her gaze from what seemed to be impossible. She remained there watching the life fade from her eyes.
Sana shoots up from her bed, panic ridden in her eyes while she lets out uneven breaths. She observes her surroundings in order to ground herself to reality. A thin coat of sweat layers her body. She’s in her bedroom. Her duvet covers the lower portion of her body, lightly sticking to her legs. The blinds of her window allow small rays of the moonlight to filter into the room. She eyes the soft patterns of light and shadows cast onto her walls. Finally, she glances over at the digital clock on her nightstand.
3:14AM, it read. She lets out a heavy sigh.
Ten minutes had passed, and Sana managed to calm down, but the image from her nightmare was still fresh in her mind. She swiftly gets out of bed and heads to her desk. Fishing for her headphones in one of the drawers. As she plugs them into her phone and hits shuffle on her playlist she reflects, “That’s three times this week.”
Sana has been having the same nightmare for a while now, and although she doesn’t get it every night it torments her daily. The look of her lifeless eyes etched into her brain.
An alarm blares on Sana’s nightstand, jolting her awake from her short slumber. Headphones landing on the floor. She gets up groggily wiping the drowsiness from her eyes, reaching over to silence the persistent noise. 6:00AM her phone highlighted as she discarded the alarm. Focusing on the still dark view of her window, sun unrisen, she stretches her limbs. Trying to shake off the exhaustion deep in her bones. Sana makes her way to the bathroom to freshen up. Another day of work ahead of her.
As Sana makes her way to the kitchen, she catches sight of Mina pouring herself a cup of coffee. Sana reaches into one of the cupboards for her mug and takes a seat on a stool in front of the kitchen island. Mina nears her offering some of the warm, bitter beverage.
“How’d you sleep?” the younger of the two questions.
Sana aimlessly stares at her now filled mug. No real interest in the cup of coffee, “mmm…the same as always” she mumbles.
Mina studies her roommate, aware of the night terrors that haunted her. Observing the dark circles and paling complexion that appear to be worsening as the weeks pass. Her eyebrows furrow in concern but she maintains her tone steady, “I see.”
As much as Mina wanted to pry and ask about the subject of her nightmares, she didn’t want to push Sana to share. She’d wait until Sana was ready to talk about it. So, she retreats from her spot in the kitchen and gathers her things to head out.
“Take it easy at work Sana,” is all the raven-haired girl can manage to express her concerns. Not waiting for the eldest’s response before heading out the door.
Sana brings her mug to the sink. Emptying the remains of her coffee. She stands there, arms leaning against the sink mentally preparing herself for the day. Willing the thousands of thoughts and images away to the back of her mind for now.
It’s a slow day. Her least favorite type of day, regular customers entering the well-known shop for their usual orders. She had no helper today to make matters worse. She had let her part-timer, Dahyun, take the day off. Aside from the regulars not many patrons enter. Leaving Sana vulnerable to the silence of the small, dim-lit cafe. Alone with her thoughts.
Sana busied herself throughout the day; cleaning every single crevice of the cafe, organizing the storage room, restocking the coffee, and serving whoever came through. To say she was tired would be an understatement. However, it did the job. It was now time to close the shop. After shutting off the lights and making sure everything was locked up, Sana headed out. Too worn out to go for a walk, the honey-haired girl apprehensively decided to go home right away.
As the weeks continue on, so do Sana’s nightmares. However, with the progressing weeks her dream is minutely changing. In her dream everything always plays out the same from the beginning. When she runs towards the body in the middle of the street, Sana is still petrified by the sight of her own image reflecting on the ground. What has changed is that her duplicate has become distorted. Her features almost appear to be clouded by an unseen force or shadow. Her eyes were the only part visible. Nonetheless, Sana jerks awake in fear.
There is familiarity in the shadows that now distort her nightmares. It reminds her of the silhouette that has crossed her mind. Sana realizes that what used to be her duplicate is now morphed into the clouded silhouette that resides in the back of her thoughts. What racked Sana’s mind was who this shadow person was and why they were appearing.
While the image of watching life vanish from her own eyes haunts her, the image of the shadow lingers. The once-clear reflection of herself has transformed into an indistinct figure. The only thing Sana can make out of this new shift is it’s a female. Her eyes, though barely visible, leave Sana feeling a paradox of emotions. Unsettled but comforted holding her in her arms. Familiar but unrecognizable as she stares into their eyes.
After mulling over her thoughts, the honey-haired girl can’t help but wonder if there’s a deeper meaning to her nightmares. Every night Sana wakes up, drenched in a layer of sweat and gasping for breath, the shadowed female lingers in her mind. She felt the figure was someone important. Almost as if the shadow holds a piece of her. Maybe her past. Sana wonders if there’s a message she needed to decipher from this. There was something crucial that she’s forgetting. Lately, the questions gnaw at her mind, affecting her day by day.
Mina observes her roommate. The aforementioned girl sat in the dining room, a now soggy bowl of cereal in front being left untouched for too long. Sana is constantly lost in her head whenever she’s at home, paying Mina no thought. This raises concern in Mina. So, she begins to keep a close eye on Sana. The raven head becomes anxious, thinking Sana is finally putting the pieces together. Closer to figuring out what she doesn’t remember. Mina needs to prepare for the day it hits Sana.
It would be easy for Mina to lay it out for her friend and tell her, but Mina wants Sana to solve it out on her own. Her own memory will decide when she’s ready.
One night while Sana heads home, a strange feeling courses through her. It’s an inkling feeling that begins as she crosses the street from the park to her apartment complex. Something was itching her brain to remember. Sana didn’t realize she had stopped walking to focus on what she was feeling. Stagnant in the middle of the street. Seemingly from nowhere, she heard loud honking and tires skidding in an attempt to halt. The beaming headlights along with the rush of nerves putting her body on alert gave Sana a sense of Deja vu. She barely manages to move to the side as the car swerves around her.
Sana is able to guide herself home afterwards. She shuffles inside and exhales to release the tension from the previous incident. Quiet footsteps approach her. “You’re home — already,” it was her roommate.
Mina stands by their apartment entrance, eyeing Sana who was slipping off her shoes. Her hair was covering her face as she was slightly bent downwards. When the honey-haired girl looked up, Mina could see the sullen look on her face. Sorrow filled her sunken eyes. The younger girl couldn’t handle seeing her roommate like this anymore.
“Sana, is everything ok?”
This was all it took for the dam to break. Too overwhelmed by her troubles, Sana couldn’t help the tears welling at the corner of her eyes. Mina led her to their couch.
Finally voicing out her dream and the torment it’s brought her, with her head in her hands, Sana expresses her concerns and want to get to the bottom of things. Burdened by the unresolved.
She has a lengthy conversation with Mina, taking most of the night. Her roommate listens attentively, confirming her worries. However, she puts them to the side. Focusing on the words being hushed out from the older girl. Sana goes deep into detail about how she feels an inexplicable connection to the figure of her dreams.
That with each passing night, the feminine silhouette became more defined. The presence of this person feels like a key to unlocking a part of herself that was buried. “This can’t just be something from my imagination, Mina…” Sana huff out and pauses. “It can’t be. It feels too real.”
Sana looks at her friend, tired. Eyes desperate and in search of answers. For the last missing piece. Continuing to vent out, Sana can no longer hold back all her thoughts or feelings. She knew that she would have to confront this. To find what she is looking for, she would have to delve into the depths of her mind where she will uncover the truth. Something Mina is aware of. She knows what the missing piece in Sana’s nightmare is. Mina bites her tongue; she holds the last piece to Sana’s puzzle.
It wasn’t going to be easy for Sana. The raven head finds a glint of determination in Sana’s eyes. She just hoped it would be enough to get her through whatever lies ahead. Through the unraveling of the darkest corners of her psyche.
After a couple of days passed, Sana is at work again, eyeing the calendar at the cafe with the intention of looking at next week’s schedule. She finds a certain date calling to her. Sana fidgets with the hem of her rough leathered work apron. Gaze set on the calendar but was miles away in her mind.
“Hey boss,” a small pale girl appears next to her “have something coming up?”
Sana pondered, did she? The date was calling out to her, similar to the other night’s incident, a call to remember. She abruptly decided, “would you mind handling the shop on your own?” as she pointed to the date. The smaller women glanced at the calendar, mentally confirming if her schedule aligned. “Sure, no problem,” she gleams.
Sana remained silent, not that she didn’t trust Dahyun, but she rarely took days off.
It seemed as if her employee had read Sana’s mind.
“You know — we’re all entitled a day off once in a while.”
“Having a break won’t hurt,” and Sana couldn’t agree more but for different reasons. She wished she could get a breather from the nightmares and the baggage of turmoil it entailed. Weighing heavily on her shoulders. She wanted a break from all her unresolved questions and emotions. Sana wanted a moment of clarity, a small respite from the chaos in her mind.
Ever since their late-night talk, Mina and Sana have become closer. Their conversation became a turning point in their relationship. That night Sana came home and poured her heart out, Mina listened and supported her unwaveringly. This created a deeper bond between the two. One more open. It was as if the restrictions to showing their care were lifted. Mina wouldn’t withhold herself anymore and checked on Sana more often. She ensured that Sana was coping — as best as she could — with her nightmares. Sana found herself content with this new development.
Later that same day Mina visited the cafe. This was part of the new development in their friendship. On days that Mina finished her work early, she would stop by the cafe to indulge in savory sweets and rich flavored coffee to balance it out. She would occasionally stay until Sana closed. Walking home together to make sure she didn’t stay out too long and have a repeat of the other night.
As Mina was taking a bite of the sweets she had ordered, her ears perked at the conversation a couple of feet away. Dahyun was conversing with Sana. From what Mina was able to hear, she found that Dahyun would be taking care of the small shop by herself. This piqued her interest. If Dahyun is going to be by herself at the cafe, that means Sana would be taking a day off. Aware of the upcoming date Mina stood up with her empty plate and mug. She headed to the register, where the cafe workers stood. Dahyun greeted her with a smile, “Thanks Mina, I would’ve collected them you didn’t have to bring them yourself.” “It was no trouble,” Mina countered as she offered a small smile. She quickly glanced at the calendar behind the two girls.
There it was. It was marked on the cafe’s schedule in bright red: Sana’s day off. Sana was indeed getting closer to figuring things out. Mina thought to herself for a moment. She needed to take action. She said her goodbyes to Dahyun and looked at Sana, checking for any unusual signs. She told Sana she would see her later and excused herself to run some “errands.”
Mina arrived to the apartment she shared with Sana, swiftly parking into the underground garage. Jogging up the stairwell she held her phone against her ear. Listening to the ringing as she waited for the call to connect. The younger girl was calling her boss. After her discovery at the cafe, she felt that she had to take a day off. The same day as Sana.
After settling things at work the younger girl began to rummage through her closet. With little to no struggle Mina found what she was looking for, there in the back corner of her closet was a dusty and messily taped up box. This is Sana’s box that was given to Mina years ago. However, Mina is sure that Sana has no recollection of doing this. Mina swipes at the dusty box with an old rag. Uncovering a name that had not been spoken or crossed in the mind of her roommate. A name that would certainly bring back a flood of memories and emotions that Sana had tried to bury deep within her consciousness. She had entailed this to Mina long ago and despite her best efforts to confine the box, the answers to her questions had been a room away — in Mina’s closet.
Mina stared at the name on the old box. She asked herself whether Sana would be ready for this. Placing the answers to Sana’s nightmare in the back of her trunk, she concluded that it was time. Her friend deserved clarity.
The following days passed by in a blur for the two roommates. Both filled with nerves for their day off, one in fear and one in uncertainty. That morning Sana woke up in her patterned panic, result of her nightmare. With no work scheduled, Sana had wanted to sleep in. Her own personal but cruel alarm couldn’t let that slide.
Sana dragged her feet into the kitchen until she stopped at the view of her roommate. The same roommate who should be at work by now. Mina meets Sana’s eyes and simply states, “I have the day free.” Giving it no other thought, Sana continues through her morning.
“Hey, I have a small errand I have to run. Do you mind joining me?”
Sana looks towards her friend from her spot on the couch. Eyebrows raised in confusion.
“I don’t feel like going alone. Some company would be nice…” the raven head explains. Hoping this will be enough to convince her. Luckily, Sana stood up a few seconds after and agreed.
Throughout the car drive, Mina holds onto the steering wheel with a death grip so tight. Her anxiety locking her fingers in place. This didn’t go unnoticed by Sana. She chose to ignore it for the time being; her eyes focused on the road for any clues to their destination.
A short drive later, they have finally arrived. Sana glances out the window and a cemetery comes into view. Mina was quick to observe Sana’s reactions, but only found confusion take over her features. Putting the car in park, Mina exits the car. The older girl watches, confusion deepening the furrowing of her eyebrows, as her roommate gathers a bouquet of flowers she hadn’t noticed.
“Why are we here?” Sana asks, her voice tinged with uneasiness. Her gut sending her a feeling of foreboding and apprehension.
Mina didn’t utter a single word in response. She secures a small bag on her shoulder and motions for Sana to follow. After a moment’s hesitation Sana steps out, taking in her surroundings as her feet hit the gravel concrete. There were rows of graves, and the air was filled with a thick scent of earth and floral tones. The atmosphere of the cemetery quiet and somber, quite what one would expect. To Sana however, it brought a chill to her bones. Walking in silence, the gravel crunches under the weight of their steps. Sana’s mind is racing in an attempt to piece together why Mina has brought her here.
Suddenly Mina stops and begins to kneel down. Setting aside the bouquet and placing the small bag alongside. It wasn’t a lie when Mina said she had an errand to run. Mina knelt down in front of a single, well-tended grave. Her roommate begins to clean around the area with practiced ease and precision. Her movements are deliberate and respectful. Unknown to Sana, the raven head would frequent the grave in front of them. Maintaining the site before them, a gesture Sana would later appreciate.
Finally taking a glance at the name engraved on the headstone, Sana’s knees buckled. It was a name Sana hadn’t thought of in years. Succumbing to the flood of memories and emotions she fell to her knees, unable to hold back her sobs as tears began to stream along her face.
The memories hit Sana like turbulent waves. Each memory crashed into her; a feeling that made Sana feel like she was drowning. Each one is more painful than the last. It was Deja vu all over again. Except now it dawned on Sana that her nightmares were a mirroring image of your accident. It became too much for her. She felt her heart clench tightly in her chest and erupting into pieces. The all too familiar feeling of her body paralyzing in shock hit her once again. She had lost you.
Realization dawned on Sana. It all made sense now; the nightmare, the shadowy figure, the sense of Deja vu. It was a reflection of that tragic day. You were the silhouette. The shadowed figure — the one who died.
She remembered that day clearly now, how you had tried to surprise her after work but had arrived a bit too late. Sana had closed the cafe early, the same idea as you in mind. She remembered turning around just in time to see you running, set on catching up to her. Unaware of the incoming car. The all too familiar honk, tires screeching, and beaming headlights replayed in her flashback. The image of the truck not being able to stop in time. The scene played out exactly the same as her nightmare. Except when she turned the body around it was you in her arms.
She held you in her arms as she panicked. Your hands gripped tightly onto Sana’s sweater fear evident in your face. Sana stared into your eyes, your gaze furthering away. There was not enough time for help to arrive, even so, Sana called Mina out of desperation. By the time Mina and the help she called for would get there, it would be far too late.
Instead of watching the life drain from own eyes, she watched the life drain from her lover’s eye. The love of her life. Despite it being herself in her nightmare, Sana felt there was no difference whether it was you or her. You were her life. Her everything. The memories she had tried to bury, a trauma response to the loss, had finally resurfaced.
A gentle breeze swept through the cemetery, hitting the two girls. The wind being soft but strong enough to wipe away some of Sana’s tears. Sana looks at your headstone, a defeated smile crossing her pale face. She felt you there with her, as if you had sent the small breeze. Sana knew that she would never forget you, not anymore.
Mina was now at her side. She places a comforting hand onto Sana’s back, offering her silent support. The two of them sit there for a long time, sharing in the sorrow and bittersweet memories of you. In that moment, Sana felt the burden on her shoulders lift and a strange sense of closure.
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dodorimo · 6 months ago
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WIP Wednesday
Theater director!Raphael x Tav
He's supposed to be kinda creepy here, so yeah, this is a warning.
· · ──────  ❊  ────── · ·
It is a disaster, a travesty.
He wonders. When Tacitus beheld the charred remains of his beloved Rome, did he feel a similar way?
Chorus girls look to each other for guidance while lead actors traipse over the stage, painfully off-key. He has seen high school productions with more verve than this one.
That he has to share a room with such insipid talent. It is truly heartbreaking.
With a weary sigh, his eyes survey the stage for the weak link, and that’s where he finds her. A girl in the back row, looking a little lost and scared out of her mind.
“Dear God, who does casting these days?” he laments to no one in particular, crossing his legs on the leather seat.
“You do, sir.”
Raphael turns to look at the man beside him, taking in his ill-fitting suit and old-fashioned glasses. Poor fellow. He has neither the knack nor the grip for the job. And the syndicate thought sending this boy would keep him on his toes?
“Oh, I didn’t audition this one or I’d remember her.” There’s a pause while he mulls over his thoughts. “Tell me, Jameson,” he says and ignores when the other man voices a correction. “Why is she here?”
“The girl has promise,” comes the curt response. “She was highly recommended.”
The vague answer does nothing to placate his quickly dampening mood. “Recommended by who? Her parents? Her elementary teacher, perhaps?”
A few cleaning women choose this moment to walk past their seats, prompting the man to lower his voice. “The Royal, sir.”
Raphael reclines back in his seat. There we have it.
What these newcomers fail to understand is that admission to a fancy college isn’t nearly enough accolades for his standards. He didn’t build his reputation by bowing down to paper-pushers and sycophants. In this theater, he dictates the rules. In this theater, he is king.
With a wave of his hand and a few scathing words, he orders the session to be dismissed, much to the relief of those present.
“May I suggest a break instead?”
“You did well today, Johnson. You may take the rest of the day off,” he replies, his tone final.
The man opens his mouth to protest, but turns to leave the room instead. The buzz of conversation slowly dwindles as cast and crew head backstage. They turn off the lights on their way out, leaving the theater in semi-penumbra.
Despite his predisposition for pomp and extravagance, Raphael always thought he worked better on a smaller stage.
“Not you.” He points to the girl tailgating the group. “I’d like to have a word.”
The girl stops in her tracks, a thousand emotions flashing across her face, before settling on fear.
While he waits for her to come around, he pulls two chairs and rearranges them facing each other in the middle of the stage, right below where the headlights shine brightest. The girl moves to sit on one of the chairs, shaking like a foal standing on its hind legs for the first time.
“Fear not. This will only take a moment,” he says, his smile deceptively warm—a skill honed after many years in the business.
She is a pretty little thing, this new choir girl. But then, again, most choir girls are. If her theater career falls to pieces, he can imagine a profession or two where she would excel at. 
“What do you say we start from the beginning of act two?” he suggests, tone amicable as to not alarm her further.
The girl scrambles to flip through the pages of the script, her eyes skimming over the words in rapid succession.
This won’t do. An easier question, then.
“What is your name, dear?”
“River, sir. My name is River.”
“My man told me you came from the capital. Do you like it there?”
“I like it very much, yes.” The small talk seems to calm her enough to allow her to find the right page. What she finds there, however, does not please her in the slightest.
“Sir, this is a scene for two…” she trails off, eyes fearful.
“Make the best of it. Improvise. I can play the part of your would-be lover if you wish.” The abrasive approach isn’t to his liking. Unfortunately for this girl, he is short on patience.
If he had any hope that under the veneer of the ingénue might hide a true thespian spirit, it vanishes the moment she utters the first line.
He stands up and paces aimlessly around the stage. The girl stares at him, dumbfounded.
“You have been on the run. This man, this stranger, offers you solace and a roof above your head. He is charming and not too hard on the eyes. You feel indebted to him. You’re young, naive and you’ve never been properly courted.”
The deviation from the script wouldn’t pose an issue. He is the author, after all, and the play, a successful piece from his earlier career. “Updated” for modern audiences. The word alone is enough to make him grit his teeth. None of his plays needed “updating”. Younger audiences can take their grievances back to their food-stained couches. They had no respect for the classics.
His little summary provokes the intended reaction. He sees the pieces falling into place in her mind.
“Harlequin…” she tries again, this time with more passion. And is that the hint of tears he sees in her eyes? “I've never met anyone like you. If only I could repay you in kind.”
“Good, good… much better.” He returns to his seat.
“Say the word and my body will be yours.” She leans forward, exposing just enough of her cleavage for his eager eyes. It’s a bold move, but not unwelcome. His fingers twitch on his lap. This little dove may surprise him still.
Raphael recites the words that have become second nature to him. “Columbina. I’d rather you not return to your old ways. If you choose to lie with me, it must be of your own free will.” If his voice sounded more condescending than the play requires, it’s just an act of improvisation on his part.
He points to the script in her hand. It’s the cue for her musical number.
If the girl clearly struggled with the finer nuances of the text before, here she needs no assistance. Hers is a voice of singular beauty, the likes of which emerge once in a generation. He suddenly understood why James was so hellbent on bringing her here. It wasn’t just the charming Harlequin who was finding himself enthralled.
When it’s done, he takes off his glasses without saying a word and puts them carefully in his pocket.
“Oh dear, this is…” Beautiful, stupendous, awe-inspiring, his mind supplies. “A little crude, if you don’t mind my directness.”
The girl looks positively devastated, her lips quivering as if about to cry.
“But even the roughest of rocks can be polished into a beautiful piece of jewelry. Isn’t this what they say? Meet me at my office after tomorrow’s rehearsal. I expect you to be well acquainted with the text by then.”
“Thank you, sir. I won’t disappoint you.”
“Call me Raphael.”
“Raphael…” Her voice rings like angelic bells to his ears. “Until tomorrow.”
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popcornforone · 1 year ago
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Drenched
A Mr Ben Fan Fic
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I need help. I am always in a Dave York pit, however I am really really really feeling Mr Ben at the moment. I had no intention to write this at all. I have so many in draft that I wanted to get done but on November 6 an idea came into my head & I then spent nearly 2hours starting. I have no idea when you will read this but I really like what I’ve written here.
Synopsis:- your car is being repaired, & your on your way to college in a storm. Circumstances beyond your control, lead you to the best kind of lazy day to snuggle in doors.
Word Count: 4100
Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! PIV sex. Established relationship. Swearing, angst, teasing, fingering. Mentions of oral & previous sexual encounters. Dirty talk. Innuendo & things implied. Cream Pie, tasting, mentioned or sex in a public place, talk of gagging.
Thanks as always for the read peoples it’s really appreciated. All feed back is welcome. Enjoy
5 days the garage said. 5 days & your car would be back. 5 days & it would be repaired from the rival men’s hockey team taking it out on the nearest car possible when they lost, which just happened to be yours. You didn’t know until right at the end of the match as you were doing the college radio commentary for the game. The college said they would pay for all your repairs & 3 of the rival team have now been kicked off their scholarships. That makes you feel a little bit better but not right now.
It’s now been 8 days since they said 5 & it’s properly fall. It’s dropped in temperature. It’s raining & the bus stop is 10min Walk from your apartment to get to the campus. You’re there as a mature student. Getting your masters studying 2 days a week while you work the other 3 in your job. This will leas to a promotion though, your work have said that. That’s why you were working & commentating on the hockey game. You’re lined up to be the next big sports reporter on tv. NFL Super Bowl anchor one day has even been mentioned by some people in the industry that know what they are taking about. You blushed when you heard this. Your potential is already being recognised.
You waited as long as you could for the rain to slow down before you take the most sheltered walk to the bus stop. No amount of clothes & layers & waterproofs will protect you. You have a change of clothes in your bag. You stride over puddles & avoid the splash points walking under as many shelters as you can. But then it happens. The bus you are meant to catch is early & your still 2mins away from your stop so you start to run, knowing if no one is at your stop you will be late or will need to call an Uber. That would be have been the sensible thing to do to start with. You’re good at jogging but not in the rain so you start to gather momentum. But in Your haist, you’ve neglected where your feet are going on the path.
Splash!
The bus hits the deep puddle in the road right next to you. Drenching you in seconds making you stop in your tracks.
“Fuck!” You shout as the bus keeps going, spray flying into the air covering any other crazy person who’s out in this rain & because no one is waiting doesn’t stop at your stop. It just keeps going.
“Oooh for fuck…” but your expletive is stopped by the lorry that then also hits the puddle & covers you. It uses its horn too.
“FUCK YOU!” You scream as you trudge your sodden mess of a being into the bus stop & sit down for a few seconds. Your shivering, hands are shaking. You could just turn around & go home & do this on zoom but you’re resilient & you’ve got to where you are in life because of this. However this weather, the splashing & the bus have made you think today is not your day. Everyone can have bad days & you feel your bottoms lip quiver.
Beep beep! A horn goes off, you don’t pay attention to it probably some jerk mocking you. BEEP!!!
“Urgh” you go & look up to moan & be all grumpy & moody but then you stand there in shock. A friendly face in a blue Ford is waving at you. It starts off your own water works & you as you cry, rush & leap into the back seat of the car. This is no strangers car. You quickly shut the door & let the emotions take hold. A warm friendly hand from the drivers seat leans into you from the front.
“You’re soaked” he says “didn’t I tell…” but his voice trails off when he sees you’re crying. “Hey hey hey.” He turns the engine off & puts his hazards on so no one hits his car & his face turns to face you. Bens face no matter what, is always reassuring & soft. “It’s okay I’m here, you’re safe, okay you look like a drowned rat but…” you sadly pout at him. “Sorry trying to make you smile” Ben smirks. “It’s better you laugh then cry” that perks you up slightly & your lips almost smile at him as you grab the towel he has on the back seat for when the travels with his cat to wipe you down slightly. It doesn’t bother you if you’re now covered in cat hair.
“You like my little smile Ben”
“Hey what can I say, I’m a romantic who likes the small things in life” the way his hand feels against your cheek has you blushing & feeling rather warm.
“Thank you though Ben, this is…”
“You still should have called me this morning, I’d have gone out my way to pick you up” knowing your calmer Ben turns back around & turns the engine on & take the two of you to the college.
When you arrive at college you you look at your phone to see a notification pop up.
“Typical arghhhh” you growl, as Ben parks his car in a teachers spot.
“What’s up now?” He says sarcastically as he does his coat up.
“I was rushing in for a writing lecture with Professor Steven’s but his own kids school is shut due to flooding, so he’s not going to be in today. I got drenched for nothing” Ben turns to face you & sees the frustration in your eyes.
“Hey, just remember what we said the other week” you roll your eyes at him & say in unison mocking him in his teachers voice “everything happens for a reason”
“Yea I know Ben but still. My next lecture today isn’t until 1pm. I’ve made this journey for no reason.” Ben shakes his head at your negative attitude.
“You’re as moody as the weather today you know that” you raise an eyebrow at him & sigh.
“It’s not my fault Mr Ben” you snap back, frustrated with life. He knows you’re in a mood when you call him that. He much prefers it when you call him your handsome professor. You were introduced at the writing meet up at the start of term. A few flirty words, became a coffee, then dinner & a movie, & have now become a relationship. Spending alternate weekends at each others apartments. The way he makes you cum you’ve never experienced before. His hands are masterful on your clit. Because you’re a mature student it’s not frowned upon, & he doesn’t teach you. He’s not breaking any rules. You could have easily had met it at a bar one day. But maybe the way you shout ”ooh professor teach me about kinky sex” shouldn’t really go into the college open guide for prospective new students. Especially as Mr Ben like to gag you & you send nudes to each other each night. A few 3am hook ups have happened when things have got out of hand on face time. He’s often the one rushing to yours to pleasure you until you both sleep through your alarms the next morning. That happened 2 weeks ago.
Ben doesn’t say a word & gets out the car & slams the door making you jump. Your lips quivering in sadness again, as you try to hold everything in. Today really isn’t your day is it. Your door suddenly flings open & he grabs you by the arm pulling you out the car. The rain still pouring, thunder happening a little way off on this miserable day. He shuts the door behind you & pushes you against the car, before his lips find yours. The movies always make this so romantic. & as much as this does perk you up a little, you’re still moody. Bens kisses can almost solve all of the worlds problems. He moans as his tongue finds your tonsils. You can’t deny that this is fucking sexy. He locks the car & then drags you into the college.
“Come on baby” the main hall is slippery & he holding onto you in your sodden state, walks you both through all the students & up to the 2nd floor to his office. It’s not a secret that Professors Ben isn’t single anymore but some people are shocked when they see it’s you he’s protecting & adoring.
Bens office isn’t one he has to share with anyone. Being head of English he gets one with a small bathroom to himself. He throws you in there.
“There’s towels in my gym bag & a big enough sink for you to soak some of your clothes” & he shuts the door & wanders off. He’s also locked it. Is he punishing you for being in a mood & not getting out of the gloom? No Bens to sweet for for that. He knows you need a good cry & to let it all out. He stand by the door as he hears you sob a little before you head to the bathroom. It breaks his heart a little but you needed this moment. You need a good cry after the morning but as soon as you’re out of your wet clothes your attitude improves straight away.
You don’t even realise when you come out the bathroom in your leggins, dress & college hoodie that Ben has returned & is sitting at his desk on his laptop. On the table is a bacon sandwich & a big cup of tea for you, as he looks at his laptop. You perch on the end of his desk & smile at him.
“Thank you”
“For what”
“For being you, for being mine, for letting me be moody”
“You’re welcome I guess” he pokes his glasses further up his nose & smirks. “You always said if I can’t handle you at your worse I don’t deserve you” his big brown eyes dazzle back at you.
“That’s not me at my worse” you say as you bite into the warm toast & bacon.
“Well you’re moodiest then…?” He sees the smile on your face as he teases you. “There it is, that famous smile, the smile that everyone wants to see but only I get to” he stands up & takes a bite out of your sandwich.
“Ben!”
“What?” he says mouth full trying not to laugh “I paid for it, what you gonna do about it?” You then lick your lips before you kiss him & bite his. “Keep doing that & I won’t do any teaching today” he smirks before he softly kisses you back.
“Well maybe that’s what I want, I mean after all my handsome professor did save me from getting wet” you sip your tea, slurping which has Bens heart rate accelerate.
“That i did” Ben puts the bacon sandwich down & his hand trail up from your knees to your thighs, your leggings are thin it’s almost like he’s stroking your skin. “But i…” he then stops thinking it’s too smutty.
“Finish it Ben” you fully uncross & spread your legs & he pulls you so his hardening groin rubs against your pussy. Both still completely clothed. Ben chuckles & then say the words.
“… I think I can make sure you’re not just wet but drenched & soaked.” His hand starts to stroke your entrance, knowing the feel of your panties & legging will cause friction against your clit. Your roll your head back & sigh in pleasure.
“Ooh professor” you moan.
“You like that baby”
“Fuck yes”
“Do you want me?”
“Ooh Ben yes,” your breath is hitched.
“Want your professor to teach you to be nice when people do you a favour? Want your professor to fuck you in his office again?” You both usually have no lessons after lunch on a Thursday & Ben will always use that for his ‘special tutor session’ well that’s what it say in his diary. You’ve been walked in on once since these meet ups started at college. A department assistant needed a book & just walked in while you were sitting in bens chair in just his dark blue shirt, as he licked your pussy dry. Safe to say from that day on Ben has double locked the door on Thursdays.
“Yea Ben, please me Ben” your hand is on his belt undoing it when the room plunged into darkness.
“Ahhhh” you screech” is this a game Ben?” Your body trembles.
“Nope I’m not that clever enough to do that.” He replys & he pulls you in close to him. Lightning lights up the room from his window before the emergency lighting comes on & the college tannoy announce system starts.
‘Due to the incoming storm, unless it is unsafe for you to do so, lessons are cancelled for today. This is a message for all staff & students to leave as safety as you can, if you can’t leave the cafeteria on the first floor will be serving free food & drink all day’
You look at Ben & his hand cups your face.
“Can I have a lift home baby?” You ask & do your innocent eyes at him. Eyelashes fluttering.
“See is it so hard to ask for a bit of help”
“Well no, you’re right there, but I have alternative motives” you say as you pack your damp clothes into a carrier bag after ringing them out of the sink.
“Do you now?” He raises an eye brown as he put his stuff in his bag & put his coat back on.
“I do, you see as much as a lesson in your office is good, I know my bed is much more comfortable for a more personal lesson”
“What make you think I don’t have work to do & that I don’t want to go home to my cat Mr Collins?” He asks.
“Seriously?” You slump a little as you were not looking at his face & then see the sarcastic look on it. “Fuck you Ben” you zip your coat up & pout.
“Ooh you will in about 25minutes.” He says & he rubs his nose against yours before he ushers you out of his office to lock it up. Those work trouser always make his bum look nice & plump as he bends over to grab his bag that he put on the floor as he locked the office.
You rush into your apartment to avoid the increasing resilient rain & shut the door behind Ben & go & turn the heating on but it’s as you feared. The whole block has no power. Bens phone then pings.
“Yea my building has no power too, so it’s not like we can head there either” he says as he hangs his coat up.
“Well we best go get warm some other way shouldn’t we” you take his hand & walk him to your bedroom. “Unless you really do want to go home”
“& miss an afternoon of sex with you… fuck no” he’s kicking off his shoes as he walks along to your bedroom. Once in your bedroom , you light a few candles on your dresser for a little bit of light & Ben scoffs. “Thought I was the romantic one”
“I have my moments baby” you reply as you walk over to him & start unbuttoning his shirt. “& right now I want you to teach me how to be a romantic lover”
“Oooh baby I can’t teach that” he says as he grabs the hem off your dress before he takes it off over your head. The lightning outside crashes as he admires your spotty blue bra “you already do that anyhow beautiful” you sit on the bed & shuffle off your leggings & he loses his trousers. His grey briefs don’t hide how much he wants you. A slow large soft hand strokes your shoulder as he peppers kisses around your neck, just in the crook. Your favourite spot. Your eyes close in pleasure. One hand ruffling his slightly damp hair from the rush inside from the rain. The other feeling his length from above the cloth, edging him on, getting him ready. As his lips embrace yours for a tender kiss his hands unclip your bra.
“All the bloods not rushed to your cock yet then Ben” you mumble before you continue the kiss. He’s smirking this is only the 3rd time since you started having sex that he’s taken it off in one go.
“You always said I had masterful hands.” He cups your breasts, your nipples hardening at each motion he does on them. You’re so aroused that you might not even need him inside you to make you cum.
Out of habit he lays you down on the bed. His whole weight on top of you. He penis pulsing inside his briefs, & one of those large hands inside your panties. Your clit being attended to as your kisses get much more passionate.
“God you’re wet already baby” he says as his strokes get more intense. You have no words in reply. “Good girl” he lifts off your body & slowly peels your sodden panties from your body. His eyes always dilate at the sight of you naked. He always wonders how he got so lucky. “Godess” he whispers as he pulls his briefs down to reveal his girthy length. You without realising moan deeply & lick your lips, knowing just how the pinch is going to satisfy your needs. He lies back in the bed being your big spoon. You’ve moved up a little so your head is on the pillow. The kissing resumes & so does the pleasing if your clit. Your own hand now jerking his length. His low moans rattles like the thunder outside.
“Ben, make me yours” your teeth graze his lips.
“You already are beautiful” your pelvis is moving at a same rhythm to his hand now. You turn to your side Lying on you right, facing the window. The storm still bellowing outside the candles flickering away. You’re gently grind into his lap & he moans. “Oooh baby you want this”.
“Mmmmhmmmmm” you mumble & then gasp. He’s turned to be a full on spoon & is stroking his length against your slick. Coating it, ready for fun.
“Oooh you do like that baby” you nod in reply & then feel it as ben adjusts your legs & his body & he slowly inserts his erect penis inside you. All the way. In one go, the entire shaft. Your hand grabs the pillow as noise escapes your mouth before there’s a long drag against your walls before he glides fully back in. “Oooh you take me so well” he says a seductive look back at you as you turn your head.
“Yes Ben oh yess baby” you’re stumbling to find other words in your vocabulary. He’s dragging you, each slow draw against you feels exquisite. He has a quick look from over your left shoulder that he’s been kissing to see how good it looks. You always feel so tight to him, but he always can go fully in, balls deep, & he looks at the magnificent site, proud of the both of you.
“You enjoying this baby”
“Yes Ben”
“So good so right so tight, oooh my baby girl, you make me want more”
“Who says you can’t?” Your lips take his & a long sloppy kiss commences. This is all it takes for him to speed up & find a more vigorous rhythm.
You both moan & hum. A low but panty noise. It’s drowned out only by the thunder outside. Every now & then the lightning fills the room. Crashing & hitting hard like he is doing when he finds your gspot. He bites your lip when you quiver the first time. He knows he’s found it. He can feel your body tremble. Feel it rive in pleasure. He’s alternating his kisses as you lie there & moan his name.
“Oooh ben oooh baby yes yes yessss” it’s a strained cry.
“Fuck sweetheart” he’s working his pace further. “Oooh my love oooh fuck”
“Oooh fuck ben more”
“More?”
“Fuck please”
“God you’re needy” be nips around your neck”but your cunts glorious” & he ramps his pace up even more. How does he feel bigger than he did at the start? Maybe you’re so in the zone, you are just lost in this trance of passionate love making. But he hits the spot with each thrust.
“Ooooooh fuck fuck fuck Ben” your moaning is getting loud as he withdraws & lays you on your back. You gasp at the loss of him but as soon as he’s happy that you’re lying facing up at him he’s back on top of you. It was only a few seconds he wasn’t inside of you & his penis is covered in your juices, but the feel as he dives back in & grind down on you hard is insane. “Ooooh yessssss”
“Fuck baby” he lifts your legs & puts your feet on his shoulders. When your minds not in a sex glazed fog, you can see his jaw is clenched as he pummels you. His cock feeling phenomenal. His body sticky with sweat. He may be a handsome professor but right now Mr Ben is fucking you like it’s your wedding night. It’s rampant passionate & sexy.
“Ben oooooh fuck Ben” your screams & moans are now louder than the lightning. You see bens silhouette when the shadows appear on the wall from the extra light. He’s a monster of a man in size so broad & he is all yours.
“Fuck darling Jesus fucking Christ, your so tight”
“Yes yes yes yes yes I’m almost there baby”
“You wanna drench me?”
“Yes”
“You wanna soak me”
“Ooooh yes”
“you want to…”
“Oooooh fuck” you interrupt his sentence. It was almost a tease what he says because that’s what you do. You squirt, as your orgasm from over stimulation hits you like a train. Pleasure explodes out of every part of you as Ben watches in awe at the mess you are making.
“God that’s sexy, oooh fuck” 3 jolted thrusts later, he cums inside you. Filling you up, coating you, his body twitches & he screams your name at the top of his high. “Oooh fuck baby oooh fuck”
“Oh Ben oooh fuck ben” you don’t think you’ve ever breathed this heavily in your life, as you open your eyes & slowly come down from your extreme high & realise what you did. You slowly lower your legs off his shoulders as he leans back & admires the state of the mess you’ve made.
He doesn’t hesitate. Ben drops his head between your thighs as soon a he has come too & he laps away. His cock is still hard & dripping.
“Oooh baby” you snarl & run your fingers through his hair pushing his lips further into you, as his tongue licks you out. You don’t cum as he abruptly stops. His face glistens, covered in you & him. Well you think that’s the scene before you. You’re over taken by the taste of his lips that are sticky & consists of you both. He holds your head in place as you go back to his hair with your hand.
“We taste good together”
“Yes we do Ben” he’s pushing hard against you, almost ready for another round he’s not gone soft yet. He hitches against your enterance as the kiss continues. But you then both jolt. You hear a rumble but it’s not the thunder from the storm. It’s your building generator. The power is coming back on.
“What was that?” He asks distracted for a few seconds.
“The powers coming back”
“Did we make enough electricity between us baby, to restart it” he says before your neck receives the next round of kisses your nails dig into his back.
“Ben we’re so electric, the grid would flood”
“Is that so” he smirks he’s almost inside you as his hand caresses your tummy. “Well you’ve been wet & drenched & even squirting…” you bashfully smile at that. Still you can’t believe that’s even possible ”let’s get the flooding sorted too” & he pushes deeply inside you making you moan. The power might be back on but the only connection either of you need this afternoon is your body’s moving as one. A storm maybe brewing but those rumbles of thunders don’t meet the noises you & your handsome professor make for the next few hours. The candles have long flickered out by the time your afternoon delight is over.
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noisilyscreechingsong · 2 years ago
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DP x HP Crossover Prompt
Okay so I don’t know why I need this but I do and have been thinking about it a lot.
There aren’t that many fics where Draco and Danny are brothers but I am so here for it. Hear me out. Not twins per say , a couple years apart and Danny is most likely younger. Listen…
Danny stolen as a baby, hired by someone who lost much in the war and wanted to give the Malfoy’s what they ‘deserved’. As a way to teach then a lesson the hired kidnapper decides to leave them with muggles, but not just any muggles, witch hunters. That’s right, the Fentons continue their ancestors work of hunting the supernatural, specifically witches.
Due to some spell or artifact, Danny is unable to be tracked and the Malfoy’s are forced to believe their second son is dead. It isn’t until their son’s name is written on the envelope for his Hogwarts letter because magic. Danny is eleven and Draco is in his fourth year.
The Malfoy parents, Severus Snape who is also the boy’s godfather, and a Ministry official all go to the address on the letter and find the Fenton’s. As a whole they are not impressed with the Fenton parents or their eccentricities.
They establish they are there to talk about the boy that lives there and the Fentons are confused but sure “oh you mean our son Danny!” Both of the Malfoy’s and Snape sneer at the plebeian name which of course the Fentons don’t notice.
They call him down and Danny slows to a stop as soon as he looks over the ‘guests’. Because yes he’s made friends with the local clockmaker who is kind of a grandfather to him and is a squib. He confined in the older man about the weird things that happen around him sometimes and Clocky has answers and explains about magic. Danny knows that these people are wizards and witches. Was this about his Hogwarts letter Clocky told him he should be getting? Do they know what his parents do for a living?
Narcissa and Lucius on the other hand are staring at this boy in recognition. The coal colored hair and jawline were unmistakably from the Black side of the family. The straight nose and body shape however came from the Malfoy side. A perfect mix of both parents.
Introductions are made and they can see the understanding in the boy’s eyes when Snape says he’s the potions master at Hogwarts. The Fentons don’t catch it, but they were studying the boy with hawk-like attention.
“Potions?” The large Fenton asks suspiciously.
Before they can start explaining why they were really here, the boy, their boy speaks up nervously.
“He means chemistry! They call it differently because Hogwarts is a special school,” he lies without remorse.
Yes, this was their son.
“Special school? Like for gifted students?” The woman Fenton clarifies.
Danny glances at them anxiously.
“Yea! Like that.”
The parents don’t ask him how he knows about Hogwarts even though this should be his first time hearing of it. Instead the woman turns to them in confusion.
“Then why did you ask for Danny? Did you mean our daughter?”
“Oh! Jazzy-pants is super smart, already reading college books I tell ya!”
They don’t notice Danny’s face crumble and his confidence wither right in front of them. Narcissa wanted to tear these people apart for being responsible for the bright light in his gorgeous crystal blue eyes dimming in self-doubt.
“Actually, it is different than you are thinking, we are wi-“
“Mom, Dad, did you tell them what you do?” Danny interrupts urgently.
“Young man-“ the Ministry official continues.
“That’s a great idea, Dann-o!”
Which leads to explaining they are witch hunters and they all just stand there processing what they were just told and figuring out how to go about this. And they look at Danny who gives them a ‘see?’ look that explains the interruptions. He was protecting them.
Oh he was definitely their son.
Danny eventually goes with them because duh and he finds out the name he was born with.
“Corvus? Like the constellation? The crow?”
Narcissa is so proud of her son, he already knows the stars and the story to his name.
There are some bumps in the road with Draco and him getting along, and yelling at Lucius for mistreating the elves because they have feelings too, and adjusting to wizarding life in general.
Danny (Corvus) mets Tucker, a muggleborn who was kinda in the same boat as him with learning this whole world, and Sam, a pure blood witch who’s parents were both Hufflepuffs but her grandmother is a seer and she might have inherited that gift.
Danny on the other hand seems to have gotten a gift from his mother’s side as well. Necromancy. Thus starts their adventures of skirting around the professors to learn magic for each of them that are not encouraged. Danny with necromancy, Sam with her seer abilities, and Tucker finds an interest in runes and arithmacy.
Don’t know about an actual plot but I think the idea could have potential. It’d also be funny if all three of them get sorted together in either Slytherin or Hufflepuff. And Draco trying to be a good brother, has warned him about a bunch of things before going to Hogwarts, one of them being Harry Potter and the golden trio. The first time Danny and his friends meet the golden trio, Ron makes a comment about him whether it’s about him being another snake or another Malfoy. Danny just blinks and they just look at each other.
“My brother was right about you. You guys are bullies.” And walks passed them, Sam shoulder-checks him and Tucker gives them the stank eye.
“WHAT”
Draco just being fiercely protective of his little brother he thought was dead. Danny being the baby of the family and the parents actually trying to do better to make him happy.
I just really enjoy this for some reason.
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jamneuromain · 2 years ago
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Wishful Thinking Chpt. 3
Andy Barber x You (Reader), no use of Y/N
Alternate Universe - College AU
Summary: A new semester. A new task. A new boyfriend, your previous professor, Andy Barber. Everything seems to be going on the right track. So why didn't it?
Warning: detailed description of (performed) oral sex, inappropriate teacher-student relationship, power imbalance, age difference, explicit language, TW: BDSM/safe wording, angst
A/N: This fic has some disturbing themes, and discusses potentially upsetting topics. Please read through the warning before engaging with the fic. As I have said, the fic has mentioned a number of (potentially) triggering and heavy topics, you don't have to engage further if you feel uncomfortable about one or more topics.
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Wishful Thinking M. List Dancing in the Daydream M. list
Andy: Morning, sweetheart. How are you feeling today?
You’ve been staring at the message on your phone for precisely seventeen minutes now. Andy gets up a bit earlier than you did. As usual. He sends the message when he’s not there when you wake up. As usual. And you’ve been hesitant to reply. Which is not usual.
You roll over on your bed, exiting and re-entering the text message page. You should text him. You know you should. Yet, you drop your phone on your stomach and cover your eyes with your hands.
You wish you rather go back to sleep.
You safe-word last night, and you’ve been… odd.
You came back home as if you have lost half of your soul and don’t even remember how you went to bed. Your mind was, and still is, playing the scene over and over again. How he didn’t make eye contact when he forced you to deepthroat him. How your stomach and your throat protested. How you wanted him a second ago and abominated him the next.
And you are also certain that you ruined his floor. Either that or his carpet. Or both.
Your fingers clench and unclench on your soft beddings, as if it would bring you some comfort. You want Andy, you know for sure, but how can you ever face him when you safeword during sex? And his words last night, “fucktoy”? Does he want you? Does he want you in a sexual way or a spiritual way? More importantly, does he love you? How can he love you if you are so different (at least from the age perspective) and you barely know each other apart from two months of dating? How can anyone fall in love after a dozen dates?
Your eyes are dry. A bit swollen too. Thanks to all the tears you poured onto your pillow, for reasons of God knows what – you kept crying, you felt bad, and the worst part is that you couldn’t pinpoint the feeling, you didn’t know why you were feeling bad.
Your stomach gurls in another protest. Quite a lot protests coming from your body recently, you can’t help but being sarcastic. But you manage to get up from your cozy bed and decide to make yourself some breakfast, secretly hoping breakfast can take your mind off him. Andy. Last night. Whatever.
The TV is playing another episode of Alicia, the leading character of The Good Wife, crying and breaking up with her lover, also her boss – again, you think. Somehow, you are gloating because Alicia has to see Will again at work while you could avoid Andy because you don’t have any of his classes, however, you are also frustrated because Will clearly loves her, and they deserve to be together, not like… Jesus fucking Christ, does Andrew Fucking Barber ever take a break from occupying your head!
Marta is taking up one of the stoves, frying bacon and eggs while sparing a glance at the TV every now and then.
“Hi!” She greets you cheerfully.
“Hi.” You greet back, clearly not in a chatty mood, not that you ever were.
The sizzling of the frying pan and the humming of the kitchen ventilator have you focused on your plate. Your empty plate, which needs to be filled. ASAP. Before you start thinking about the-man-who-must-not-be-named again.
Marta is focusing more on the plot playing rather than cooking. When the character Alicia went out of the room, crying, she can’t help but “awww” in frustration, and stomps her feet on the carpet, “nononono you both idiots! Why don’t you just talk!”
Yeah, talk. As if that’s an easy job.
You are reminded of Andy again. You are pretty sure you need to talk this through or this would be the last action that buries your relationship.
But do you? Want to talk?
Or you want to bury your head under your duvet and just ignore all that had happened?
“Maybe it’s better off this way.” You comment, while making yourself a sandwich, “I don’t think he - Will - wants to settle down.”
Marta shakes her head as fast as she could, “but he loves her!” She exclaims, making a face when Alicia is trying to act normal in front of her family, “the least they could do is to start an affair to get back at her cheating husband!”
“So it’s about payback?”
“It’s about Alicia being stupid!” She slides the fried bacon into her own plate, wiping her hand with kitchen cloth, clearly disagreeing with you, “she loves him, and they deserve being together!”
You munch on an apple, “she has her family… she’s still married.”
“Yeah, married to a cheating husband.” She snorts, chewing the bacon like it’s a crispy chip, “fuck her family. Her kids are ungrateful little brats. Her mother-in-law is awful. And the only kind guy is her brother, who supports her being with the love of her life!”
You grow silent for a small while.
Guilt and regret claw their way back into your body, tugging your heart along with the pain you feel down your throat.
At this point, you can’t tell the difference between your biological pain and your psychological ones any more.
You lost the appetite that’s barely there. The slight interest you had in your apple. Poof. Gone. Even if it’s a small one.
You are a bit annoyed because Marta thinks cheating is “right”, in soaps at least, and you believe the opposite. You are also embarrassed, because deep down, you think what she said has a tiny bit of correctness. Panic, too. Because you think you approve of what she said.
Plus the fact your throat is not getting any better.
Andy: Talk to me, sweetheart. Please. Call me when you feel better.
The ding in your phone nearly has you throwing it half way across the room.
That certainly didn’t help.
You are getting more annoyed by the minute. Clicking your phone back to lock mode, you put it screen down on the kitchen counter without much patience.
Call him. A tempting choice.
A daunting choice.
If only you have the courage to face him. To accuse him of what he did. To address the harm he inflicted on you. To be as brave as the characters in the stories, to face him.
…to be honest, you’d rather pour yourself into writing. Writing stories and fantasies. Writing those perfect men that only exists under your pen and keystrokes.
Maybe that’s the better option. Write of a story you will never post. About some man who loves being a dom in the relationship.
A voice inside your head reminds you. This method is also known as procrastination.
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Your phone is on your bed when you are pouring your heart out into a new story. You have Bluetooth headsets playing loud music, aiding you in writing a dramatic scene. You are sitting by your desk, working on your iPad, when the beating drums in your headset turn into a ringtone for phone calls.
Must be the delivery guys. They could never find the correct entrance to your apartment building.
You press the “call” button on your headset, still typing frantically on your screen, “hello?”
No sound. No voice. No nothing.
In just a millisecond, you can tell something is wrong. It doesn’t feel like someone butt-dialed or called the wrong number. And scams would often be more eager to speak than you.
“Hello?” You begin to wonder if you pressed the “pause” button for your music instead of the “call” button. Lifting your headset a little, you can see the blue light is on – which means your phone should still be connected to your headset, which rules out another possibility. You clench your teeth in annoyance, stretching your arm to its utmost limit to reach your phone, “is anyone ther-”
Andy 00:15
And the call is still on.
Andy.
As if someone just pulled out a big vacuum machine and sucked your entire courage and your voice into a tiny box that is locked in outer space.
“Hey, sweetheart.” He sounds hoarse, unlike him.
Do you miss his voice? Hell yeah.
Do you want to talk? Hell no.
But you press your headset tighter to your ears, as if you can hear him more clearly this way.
“Sweetheart, I know you don’t want to talk. Please, just … listen.” He croaks at the last word, and some more silence, probably to cover the fact that he, like you, is also on the verge of tears.
“I’m so sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry that I didn’t notice your call for help. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you through. I know you hate me right now. I’m so sorry for that. I never meant for this to happen. I …” his hesitant voice becomes determined, “I love you, and I-I know it doesn’t mean anything but-”
You hold your breath, waiting for the next sentence that’s about to put an end to your relationship.
This is it. This is the end of your pathetic relationship and your futile attempt at giving a shot with your professor.
But this marks the period of your fun, your hate, everything that’s ever happened between you two.
Gone.
“- you didn’t do anything wrong when you safe word. If you want to put a stop to all of this, I, I…”
His phone vibrates as another call hits his number.
Some papers shuffling in the background, Andy looking for the draft he wrote before making this phone call, clearing his throat, “I… I just want another chance, if that’s okay with you. We’ll start it all over, like the way Ari got back with Ana in Love and War.”
Cheesy. And corny. And not Andy-like at all.
You’d never dream of him quoting from your stories as a make-up line. Not to mention that was your random one-shot story months ago.
You chew on your lower lip, a small chuckle leaving your lips even though tears are still swelling in your eyes.
Andy lets out a breath of relief. Hearing your chuckle has the big stone sets in his stomach, finally not worrying over you still being totally and utterly upset with him.
Though you are still upset, that he needs working on.
“Talk to me, please, sweetheart?”
The begging tone. He’s killing you with it. You couldn’t resist his soft voice, the pleading, and the hint of hope lacing behind his words.
“I dunno, Andy.” You gather all the courage you have left, sitting back on your chair, shifting your weight to one side of your body just as if you are leaning on his shoulder, murmuring to the speaker, “it feels weird, and difficult. And I don’t feel like myself. After I safe word. It’s just …” You feel vulnerable for saying it out loud. You wanted Andy, but not his presence, and the conflict is eating you up like a horrid monster.
Or you are the horrid monster for wanting a man, a man you have known for a mere couple of months, to dominate you. To control you. To break your neck just to place it together again.
You want him to own you. And yet a part of you screams for independence.
You were reckless when you dared to surrender your submission. Now you regret it. You are scared.
You don’t know whether you want this more. Or worse, if you want this less.
Being a sub seems like an inseparable part of being with Andy, and you are not sure if you are completely pliant enough.
But the feeling of giving up control. It’s intoxicating. It has you light-headed. The way he punishes you, brings you both pain and pleasure, calls out to you, like it was meant to be, like you belong to him.
Or you are into D/S relationship, just that Andy is not the right person?
And how are you even able to face him after all this? You were thinking about having him as your dissertation tutor 24 hours ago, and now you are positive that this is not a good idea at all.
“We’ll figure this out. I promise.” Some rustling noises, and a dull thud, then his voices are smaller, sounds like he’s out in the open, “I miss you so much.”
“Miss you too.” You don’t know whether you are lying or not at this point, but you do miss his warm hug and his soft smile.
“Why don’t you look outside your window for me, sweetheart?” He replies, standing by his car, holding his phone in one hand, looking up at your bedroom.
“Oh you did not!” You gasp in shock, can’t believe he pulled another cheesy corny stunt, right in front of your face.
And damn it works.
Andy waves to you when he sees your face by the window, blowing you a kiss. You can hear the smugness in his voice when he says, without a single trace of regret, “sorry about turning your words – your stories, to be precise – against you.” Damn him when he borrows all the tricks from your stories, your plot, your design, your idea about how to make up.
It's not original but it sure as hell matches exactly how you want it to be.
He looks at you, and he sees you.
He understands you.
Does this mean you should equally understand him too?
You dash out of the room before you brain could react, the questions in your head only a mere glimpse, a spark of thought, which you quickly throw away when you run down the stairs of your apartment building, not even caring you are in your fuzzy slippers and thin pajamas or the fact that you could literally break your neck running like that.
Nothing matters.
You need to see him right this second. Touch him. Kiss him. As if he is the string that attaches you to the ground, preventing you from drifting into space.
“Sweetheart?” Andy takes his phone away from his ear to take a good look at the screen.
You just hung up on him.
He thought he had you. You were so close to forgiving him and what he had done, but…
Is it too much? Showing up, in person, on your doorstep?
Were you scared?
He is going to dial your number again when you run into his arms. Catching him completely off guard.
“Hey.” He kisses your cheek, his arms circle your waist, gently stroking your back.
“Hey.” You inhale deeply. His woody cologne wraps you around, having you bury your face in his collar. Soft. Warm. Comforting. The skin contact you have been wanting ever since last night is finally relieved from your mind.
“I’m sorry about being rough last night. Really am.” Andy dips down to capture your lips in a brief peck, his blue eyes sparkling with a hint of giddiness as he notices you are welcoming his close proximity instead of rejecting it.
“I’m sorry too. Safe word and all that … I must have you worried.” You hug him tighter, blinking to prevent the tears from falling again.
“Hey hey hey.” He cups your face with his palm, “don’t EVER apologize because of safewording. I’m glad you are able to use it. Or I could…” hurt you more, but he chooses not to say that, “that’s the purpose of safe word, telling me to stop. And you make me so proud of using it instead of not. I know it’s a lot to take in, but you did nothing wrong.”
You hide your face on his shoulder again, having him sigh and hug you back, “you sound like kindergarten teachers.” You mumble, “and I feel like a crybaby.”
“Well, I am a teacher. So there’s nothing wrong with that.” Soft kisses land on your hair and your temple, “but improper use of adjectives, I’d say.”
“Yeah, you’re a university professor-”
“Not that,” he grins from ear to ear, wrapping your body in his jacket, which makes you slightly puzzled, raising your chin to look at him, waiting for his answer, “you’re not a crybaby. You’re my baby.”
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Taglist: @geminiflanagansblog@wintasssoldier
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wrongtvrns · 27 days ago
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❝ I THANK WHATEVER GODS MAY BE FOR MY UNCONQUERABLE SOUL. ❞
STATS:
Name: Bear Ludlow
Age: 35
Face Claim: Brandon Sklenar
Occupation: Park ranger & Tracker
Neighborhood: Jackson Hill
Gender & Pronouns: Cis male & he/him
BIOGRAPHY:
Trigger Warnings: child abandonment, drug abuse and addiction, kidnapping
A feral youth was spawned by growing up in poverty. Bear's parents weren't the wealthy kind. They started from young love, too young, and thus never really amounted to much of anything. Not for not trying, they unfortunately handicapped themselves before they could really get going. Their first child came too early, just after graduating high school, and life turned from youthful discovery of the world ahead of them to working to make ends meet and provide for the family they hadn't planned for. Bear came next some five years later and was an absolute accident. Something he felt strongly his entire youth. Then there was one more oops after him.
When the youngest Ludlow hit the terrible two's that as when Bear's mother made her great escape. To this day no one is quite sure where she ended up or what happened in her life post Woodside, but he doesn't really bother himself with those thoughts. Not too much, at least. This event left his father to be the sole provider and caretaker of 3 children and to some extent that caused him to subconsciously check out. He did work 3, sometimes 4, jobs but he was never around or present for his children. How could he be? At most he made sure they had some sort of roof over their heads and did his best to provide food and clothing. Everything else? That was up to the Ludlow children.
For Bear that meant getting up to no good. Little scrapes with the law. Petty crimes. Though, for him, it was a gateway into the world of drugs. With too many burdens on his shoulders far too young and a heaviness in his chest drugs were a wonderful escape. Going down that path only further drew a line between himself and his peers. The friends that were much better off and doing well in school. As kids they'd never once cared that Bear was poor, as teens, however, the divide was prominent. Loneliness only fueled his drug use and hooligan antics. The moment Bear was saved was the sheriff dropping him on his grandfather's doorstep. The old man was a no bullshit kind of man. Old school. When he saw the mess that Bear was, not missing the potential in his eyes, he resorted to breaking him down and building him back up the old fashioned way.
With some begging, laboring jobs took on Bear, likely seeing the potential in the strapping teenager as well. He was built strong, tough, there was grit in him. Fisherman's Landing was where he started and with hard work enforced on him, Bear sweated out the drugs. Quickly he became almost militant in his servitude. He'd grown quiet and knew to listen, follow, take orders. The young man became reliable and as someone weathered for hardships he didn't balk when things got a bit tough. After obtaining his GED Bear was able to go onto community college, earn his Associate's, and then move onto a state university to get a degree in parks and recreation. It was a strategic move. He had no designs on raising working in community, Bear simply thought it would be useful.
With his grandfather's property edging along the state park borders Bear often went exploring and learned both from trial and error but also from his grandfather how to be a survivalist. The old man was the one that taught Bear how to track. At first it was simply for hunting purposes but then as Bear built the skill he began to make it more useful outside of that. Working as a ranger it benefited him when it came to finding lost hikers. It also led him to seek out rewards that people offered to help them find missing persons. His success rate hasn't been perfect but it's damn good.
The path to state park ranger and tracker came two ways — experience and education. Bear had grown up in the forestry culture, some from his grandfather but most from being taken in by laborers that offered him work when it came to lumber yards and mills. He went where he'd been told and did the hard work prescribed to him. This was often working heavily forested areas. Perhaps no one would point Bear out for his intelligence but the man has never been dumb. Quiet and attentive he learned every step of the way. Coupled with his education he was easily streamlined into the position he has now. It's one that's beneficial it many ways, garnering him important connections while keeping him in confidence with the conservationists that want to keep the parks open and free. It feels like a win-win.
When it comes to family Bear feels he's the guy anyone can turn to at anytime and he's there to lend a hand. The man is a skilled gunsmith (something learned by way of his grandfather), an excellent shot and hunter, he's big and brutish and someone you want on your side in a physical fight — he's useful. Most importantly, Bear is loyal.
CONNECTIONS:
Is blood thicker than water? — the man has an older brother and a younger sibling. none of them were ever all that close, especially since they were mostly on their own when it came to care, but when bear went down the bad path it certainly drove a wedge between them. there's also a future plot here between the siblings!!
You gave me a hand when everyone else gave me their back — the best friend without the actual label because they don't hangout and treat each other in that way. they always have each other's backs and keep each other's secrets. always a call or text away, will definitely help hide a body if needed.
childhood friends turned adversaries, people he wronged when he was battling his addictions, friends, neighbors, flings, hookups, etc.
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mariyekos · 8 months ago
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Rambling about walking/jogging/exercise.
I'm trying to go for a 1-2 mile walk every day again and it's nice. I used to do that at least once a day, sometimes more in college, because it was a good way to clear my head/think about things, I like moving, and there were very good places to walk undisturbed that I could get to via walking. When I spent 2 semesters at a sister campus where it was extremely rare for anybody to pass me while walking, I got way into jogging and would end up jogging about half to three-quarters of my 2-3 mile route (distance depended on whether I went along the beach or just turned around when I got there). When I started my current job and had to be in the office every day, I'd do a ~0.75 walk before work and during my breaks most of the time, but when I started working from home I stopped that. I do have to walk around as part of my job, but the distance I walk really varies day to day. And that's all just walking, not jogging. I am not jogging in work clothes.
I've never really been one to walk alone in my neighborhood. Part of it was completely unfounded fear of being a young woman walking alone. I've gotten over that. Part of it is my fear/hatred of people watching me exercise. In High School I did basketball/track, and when I was in the weight room I was okay with it because I usually did it as part of a pair or trio which meant I wasn't alone and they were there for form and stuff. Once I got to college I was alone again, so all I could get myself to do was walk, and then I mostly did it because there weren't that many people around. Then in my last semester I decided to take a weightlifting class where I'd be around people while exercising, and that helped me get over my fear. Class was twice a week, but I'd shoot to go in one or two extra times to workout where I'd inevitably be by myself.
Once I got out of college, some of that fear of exercising in public came back. But I've been working on it. I started out with just walking around my neighborhood, because that's not very strenuous so it doesn't feel like there's much room for judgement. Now I've gone jogging a few times and it feels good.
I've always loved running/jogging. When I was in middle school, I'd sprint from the gates of the school all the way until I made it to the first intersection, just to run. In High School, I was usually the top female runner in my class. (Admittedly, that was because the other athletic girls in my grade just didn't end up in my PE class. I typically ran like a 7:05 mile, my fastest being 6:45. If we'd had any of the distance runners in our class, I would have lost to them. When we did conditioning and ran 2.5-3 miles I'd usually come in 2nd of everyone, only behind the guy who ran a 4:30 mile and won every meet.). I've always been someone who loves running when I can run as fast as I want, for however long I want, for however far I want. Miles and conditioning were okay for that reason. Not my favorite, but I liked running enough not to mind and I liked the challenge of shooting for a faster time. Now I just think about how much I want to do that but don't do it because of that dumb fear/hate of people watching me exercise, which extends to running.
But like I said. I'm getting back into walking, and am trying to get back into jogging. My times are abysmal. I've gone from a 7 minute mile to an 11 minute mile. But I want to get back there. I want to get back to at least a 9 minute mile. Maybe if I pushed myself I could do a 10 minute mile, but right now my route is partially up/downhill with a lot of curves and that definitely messes with my time. That and my knees have been hurting lately, so my body isn't super happy with me. But I want to get back there. It's so much fun to run when my body will support it. So I want to really get back into shape so that I can run longer, because running makes me happy when I go for a long time and I want that happiness again. Even just walking makes me happy! I just know that jogging/running will be even more fun when I work my way there. Part of what's slowing me on my current mile time is also that fear/hatred of people seeing me exert myself, so I don't go as fast as I could....ugh. There's hardly any reason for this fear. But it's there and it's frustrating! I want to get over it!
I also want to get to the point where I'm comfortable going to the gym again. I have dumbells and a bench press at home and I use them, but I really liked using the machines when I was in high school and college, and I don't have any of those at home. Maybe in a few months I'll be back in a place where I can do that. I already changed my work hours to be off earlier so I'd have time to go to the gym before some of the rush. We'll see. I want to get there. I had so much fun being fit and strong. I used to flex, see my muscles, and smile. I want to be proud of my body again. I want to feel the joy of working out and really running and really pushing myself again. It feels so cool to do 300 in the leg press or squat 150 or bench 90 or run a sub 8 minute mile. While doing those things, I felt good. I want to get back there!
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pisayers · 2 years ago
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An Occurrence on June Avenue
The avenue lights strobed across my eyes as the rims of my glasses shined under the neon green hues. It was a rainy evening once again in the City of Pines, but the majority of the pines are gone and the foggy weather is now infused with some vehicular smoke. The rain pitter-pattered under the billboards and roofs of the different restaurants that slid before me, filling the tiniest of gaps in my sneakers with rainwater. Damn. That’s what everyday basketball does to your Hardens.
I whipped out my umbrella on the right side of my backpack pocket. It was one of those funky manual umbrellas that you had to push all the way to its canopy just to keep it open. It was an annoying piece of rubbish to handle. Occasionally, it just closes in on you like the hard-headed piece of junk it is, but that’s what you have to deal with when your siblings lose the automatic ones every two weeks. I lifted it up over my head and closed my eyes as the raindrops dribbled on the polyester top, nature’s own percussion on concrete and metal.
As I passed by the entrance leading down to the subway station, the roaring of the engines and the yells of the conductors started to dominate the noise landscape. Amidst the controlled chaos, I thought of what I had to say to her once we met by the jeepney parking lot. The words seemed to fly all over the place in my head like the brown birds picking up crumbs on the red sidewalk, but no amount of coffee dates, neck kisses, I love yous, or pregnancy scares is enough to even form a sentence worth explaining the truth beneath the heartstrings. My feet were only getting colder from the water that seeped through, but nothing could prepare me for the cold feet I was about to go through once I got there.
“Huy! Kuya, red light.” shouted the brunette college student to my right.
Right. All that daydreaming and paragraph formulation in my head made me lose track of my position in the fabric of space-time, again. It’s not the first time it has happened either. One time, I was walking down this same avenue lost in my own thoughts when I nearly collided with a beggar struggling to support himself with a cane. I did the goofiest cross to dodge him amidst disgusted looks by the people passing by thinking I was anti-poor or however they viewed the situation. On an overpass once, I nearly rear-ended a blind elderly couple by fixating on the cars roaring beneath me. This time, I didn’t get any weird looks from the onlookers walking by, but a policeman had to follow me until I walked down the overpass just to make sure I wasn’t pickpocketing anybody. I chalked all of these instances up to a mild form of ADHD, but I do not have the medical prognosis nor the cojones to visit a therapist to confirm this statement.
“Ay, sorry po.” I muttered to her as she turned away from me in frustration. Prick. Why does she care about my safety all of a sudden?
That staring contest with the red man at the traffic light could not have lasted longer. My eyes were tearing up, both from the pedestrian embarrassment earlier and the way those were immovable stupid pixels forming the red man lasted forever. Can they just turn grey already?
Almost on cue, the red man was gone in a flash and below it came the green lights in motion forming a green man walking. It was time. Time for me to cross. Time for me to tell her the truth. I could almost feel the subway trains calling for me, rumbling on the basaltic concrete as they crisscross in several directions. I’m getting late.
I spotted her at the edge of the avenue looking unto the intersection, same outfit as usual: white streamlined crop top, black fur jacket with the sleeves hanging by her forearms, and grey sweatpants baggier than that of any rapper you’ve seen on YouTube. It’s not exactly the most attractive combination, but when you glance at the space buns at the top of her head complimenting the heavy mascara and fierce orange contact lenses, she’s suddenly twinkling among the brightest lights on the avenue. The icing on top is the transparent Hello Kitty umbrella twirling over her head, so small that you could mistake it for one of those Japanese parasols you performed with in PE class. The wind kept howling and howling, but it appeared as if everything around her had the aesthetic of a summer breeze.
From a slight jog to a brisk walk to a walk to a shuffling of steps, I was getting closer to her inch by inch, muffling my mini-strides as she looked at the passing taxis and Monteros on the avenue. Now how will I get her attention? Should I tap her on the shoulder? Maybe grab her wrist? A simple “hey” would do, right?
It was too late.
She sensed my lanky shadow getting larger and turned to me with those orange eyes.
“Hi!” she shouted.
“Shhh! Babaan mo boses mo.”
“Bakit? Nasa labas naman tayo ah. Ano ‘to? Kwarto mo?”
The memories started flooding in. The times I would sneak her into the window of my room and we would play NBA 2K on the PS4. The times she would quietly go down the staircase to grab a burger or whatever leftovers there were in the fridge. The times she would scream so randomly that cupping my hand over her mouth was now second nature to me. It was all for nothing, I suppose.
“Tama na. May sasabihin lang ako sa ‘yo kaya tinawag kita dito.”
“Napakaseryoso naman! Sige, ano?”
“Alam mo namang dito ka mag-aaral, di ‘ba?”
She let out a sigh like a dragon’s breath. I got the feeling she knew what the conversation was going to be about.
“Hay. Oo, sa SLU. Bakit?”
“At biyahe ko na rin next month para lumipat sa dorm ng UPD.”
My voice cracked. Tears started flooding my eyes. I closed my umbrella to let the rain wash them away, but it was too late. My eyes were red. The ticking time bomb blew up.
“Babe, sumilong ka dito.”
She beckoned me over to stand under her umbrella. Funny. Reminds me of that Rihanna song. Except that song was about sticking together. Ours was about to break apart.
“’Wag na. Mabilis lang ‘to.”
“Tatapusin na ba talaga natin ‘to?”
You could sense her voice about to give out, as if a flash of thunder hit her on the spot and knocked her over. I get the feeling she knew it was for the best, but she was hanging on to something that was already letting go.
“Wala tayong choice. Paano tayo magkikita?”
“Subukan lang natin, babe.”
“Walang mangyayari.”
The final two words came out of my mouth like daggers aimed straight at her chest. It’s a conversation that has resurfaced many times in the past months. Only now that it has led to something… substantial, to put it mildly.
The deafening silence clouded the city noise like noise-cancelling headphones. No more honking cars flying by. No more random chatter from strangers passing by. No more music from the beggars on the side. The trains below me are now long gone. The tracks have diverged. It’s just the two of us now. Me, drenched under the rain with only a black hoodie to keep me warm, and her tears falling down ruining the mascara and creating black streaks on her cheek. Perhaps the rain could wash away the blood I’ve shed today?
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jonahgarland · 2 years ago
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STATS
name: jonah garland age: twenty-six occupation: former journalist / staff @ haus (spa host/receptionist) position: bottom // submissive leaning top kinks: being dominated, roleplay, body worship, daddy kink, praise kink, toys, cum play, roughness, marking, experimenting face claim: nico greetham
BIOGRAPHY
As far as he could remember, Jonah’s life had always been filled with questions, unsolved mysteries he strived to find an answer to. As a child, he was the type to ask questions all day long until his parents would get tired of hearing it. From the mundane (Why can’t I eat ice cream for every meal?) to the weirdly philosophical (Why is there war in the world?), Jonah’s mind questioned everything he saw and experienced, and yet it took him a few years to ask the question that really would be central to his life: The question of who were his biological parents. It had been no secret to him from the start that he had been adopted, but there was little information he had about his genetic origins. His adoptive parents were unable, or unwilling, to share much; supposedly it had been a closed adoption, and nobody actually knew who it was that had given the boy away in the first place. It was a loose end, an unanswered question that would bother Jonah for a long time, much more than he first realized.
Overall, his childhood was happy - sheltered, and a bit quiet maybe, but happy. The town his family lived in was small and sedate, their house modest but at least offering a roof over their heads. In school, Jonah did well, despite showing slightly hyperactive tendencies at times, his curiosity and thirst for knowledge led to decent grades overall. Nonetheless, he lacked a clear destination, missing a goal and purpose in life, and found himself at a loss when it came to applying for college. In the end, it came as a surprise to nobody that he pursued journalism, matching his curious nature and the tendency to ask way too many questions all the time. He did well throughout his studies, eventually settling in a just slightly larger town to work for a local newspaper. A new place to maybe find answers that would make him feel less lost, less incomplete.
However, Jonah never found the answers he truly was looking for - instead, one day they began to find him. He received a letter, unexpected and unannounced - a letter from a lawyer, informing him about his biological father’s passing. Curiously, no name was mentioned in this announcement, just the expression of regret the man had felt over never getting to know his youngest child - a wording that made Jonah take notice. Not only had his unknown father contacted him from beyond the grave, but also left him with one important bit of information, despite how cryptic the latter was: He had a sibling. All of a sudden, the need to find closure on all the unanswered questions about his heritage resurfaced, and Jonah began to do some research.
Trying to keep his own name hidden from whoever he was looking into - assuming his sibling(s) did not know about him yet -, the journalist hired a private investigator to look into the case. It turned out to be surprisingly hard to find the intel on who his biological father actually had been; even after weeks, the PI had not come up with a name, but managed to track some of the money that his father’s lawyer had been sending out for his now deceased client. The most interesting transaction was a fairy impressive sum, sent regularly to a facility calling itself the Haus of Perses - a transaction that was still continuing on, despite his father’s apparent death. Clearly the lawyer was managing the whole family’s account, and it was likely his unknown brother that was sending money to the Haus. The PI followed that lead, reporting to Jonah that the Haus offered men a place to explore their fantasies, a fascinating location that peaked the journalist’s interest even regardless of his own personal connection to one of their clients.
He tasked the investigator with finding a way for him to get invited into the Haus himself; quickly it became clear that becoming a client was a privilege reserved for the rich and famous, and Jonah was neither. So instead, a plan was devised. The PI successfully tracked down one of the Haus’s scouts, and Jonah threw himself head first into a personal mission to be hired. It wasn’t quite an undercover mission, as technically he seeked out the man and the job as himself, though he left out his journalism background or the fact that his brother was connected to the place. Instead, he fully stepped into the world that he was about to enter, trying to let go of inhibitions and embrace the kink. The plan worked; the scout approached him about working for the Haus, and after feigned hesitation, Jonah agreed. He wasn’t quite sure what he was getting into, or how exactly he was going to figure out who his brother was, but the first step had been done, and he was determined to get some answers.
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memphisfaith · 2 years ago
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Hearts of Lust: Chapter 41
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Pairing Kim Namjoon X Reader
Genre: Collage!AU, Smut
Word Count: 2.9K
Warning: Cursing, mentions of smut, smut, consumption of alcohol, mentions of violence, violence, crack personality disorders, Chaotic energy, mental break downs, panic attacks.
Summary: College is any young adult's prime years, at least that's what Lee (y/n) and Kim Namjoon thought. The two are infamous for two reasons, by two very different crowds. Among the professors they are picture perfect students with perfect scores, attendance, and image. However, among the student body they're the very essence of lust with amazing bodies, sex appeal, and skill. The two, although strikingly similar, butt heads quite a bit with competitions of everything from grades to who can get a person to drop their pants the fastest. With the two of them ready to conquer the school year it's all a matter of Go Big or Home.
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October is the busiest month for us, mostly because of Jimin. Not only does he throw one to the biggest parties of the year, it's also his birthday. Jimin's Halloween party is usually a public event, while his birthday is usually something the group celebrates by ourselves.
Jimin's Halloween parties are legendary next to my Valentine's Day parties and RM's Summer bashes. Last year the party theme was London 1800s harlots, RM's house was decorated like an 1800s pub and all the guys dressed as gentlemen of London. Even if they acted like anything but gentlemen, I however dressed as a Harlot as well as acted as one. 
Jimin's birthday however was a lot more chill, He used his birthday command to rent out an entire strip club and its dancers. Even when we had dancers Jimin, Hobi, and I still made the most money that night on the catwalk and poles.
This year I have no idea what Jimin has planned, all he told us was that he wants to spend his birthday at the fair that's in town and that none of us are to get him gifts. Who are we to tell him no? So here we are complying to the birthday boy's wish.
It's a bit colder now and we plan to stay out as long as we can. So I dress as warm and light as I can with a hoodie and jeans. I pair my leather jacket over the hoodie and a pair of low cut converse.
I put on very little makeup and throw my hair in a ponytail with a few loose strands. I went to the bank and pulled out a hundred and fifty bucks to spend. I'm sure with Yoongi around I won't even get to spend half of it unless I manage to pull an under the table move like steal his wallet. 
Shin is invited as well so RM went to pick her up as early as he could. He told me he picked up Jungkook on the way. Jin is taking his own car with Hoseok and Jimin for the ride, While Yoongi plans to pick me and Tae up.
As I wait for Yoongi to pick me up I look through the house for my keys, an annoying habit of mine is losing my shit at inconvenient times. I can't tell you how many times I've left my phone or wallet at a hookup’s house.
I hear pounding on the door and I sigh, When I open the door Yoongi sent me an annoyed look. "I lost my Keys!" I defend Yoongi's annoyance grew into irritation. "One day I'm getting you a chain that way you won't lose your shit!" He snaps pushing his way in to help me look.
I look in my studio as Yoongi searches elsewhere, my keys aren't in the studio after looking. When I go to check with Yoongi he pulls them out of the bowl sitting on my coffee table. Yoongi shoves them into my hands before pushing me out the door and into the car.
Yoongi drove us to Tae's blaring his own track of music, When we pulled up Tae came running down his driveway. His hair bounces with every stride and a boxy smile is plastered on his face, over all it makes him look like the cutest little kid. Even if he did dress in a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and black army boots.
Tae throws himself into the car and quickly situates himself behind me, "Noona!" He cheers. He leans over and plants a quick kiss to my cheek before sitting back in his seat. The drive to the fair is long since we have to drive out of city limits.
Tae is luckily the quietest out of the three Maknaes, I can't imagine how Namjoon is handling the rowdy Jungkook. Especially with Shin in the car with him. Jimin can be quiet but tends to get easily excited when something catches his attention. 
When we finally locate the Fair Namjoon and his group are already there. Just after we pull in and get out Jin and his group pulls in behind us. I smile at Shin as she excitedly hugs me when she gets the chance. 
"Alright Jimin, you dragged us all out here for your birthday. What's the plan?" I sigh, Jimin tilts his head to the side with a confused look "We're supposed to have a plan?" he questions. I laughed breathlessly and shook my head, "That works too I guess," Hobi muses.
"Let's get in and see what they have before we do anything," Jin suggests, we all agreed quickly and paid our entry fee. Inside the Fair booth upon booths line a seemingly almost endless path. A few rides here and there but nothing too big, A few spin rides, bumper cars, and a small ferris wheel.
"Alright let's get tickets to ride the rides then I'll use my command." Jimin grins. And just like that we're buying tickets and standing in line to ride our first ride, which Just happens to be the giant top with hanging seats. 
To our luck all of us are able to get on at the same time at the price of five tickets. As I'm strapped in, Shin sits in front of me with Jin behind me. Once we're all strapped in, the ride starts and even then Hobi and Jin are already in a panic, when the ride actually starts to spin I'm throwing my head back in laughter as I hear Jin and Hobi scream in fear.
The ride lasts only a few minutes but after we're all off Jin and Hobi are bending over trying to regain their sanity. "Are they always...this..." Shin whispers but doesn't finish seeming too scared to say it.
"This scared? Yeah!" I laugh loudly, Jin's head snaps up to shoot me a sharp glare. I snort and lift my eyebrow at his attempt to intimidate me. "moving on!" I call pushing the group to a new ride.
I chose the spinning tea cups, there are three tea cups and there's a three person maximum per cup. Even though we had to let a small group ahead of us to make sure we all got on at the same time, we eventually got to get on. I got in a group with Namjoon and Jin, our kids got grouped together, leaving the family of three left in their own group. 
Upon the go ahead from the worker Namjoon and I spin the little spindle in the cup as fast as we can. Jin screamed as we started to gain speed, "WE'RE ALREADY SPINNING FAST ENOUGH! DON'T SPIN THE DAMN CUP TOO!" He screamed at us. 
I laugh harder at Jin's terrified face. I can hear Shin giggling loudly in the cup to our right and Hobi screaming in the cup to our left. My eyes widen as I feel myself sliding in the cup, "OH MY GOD! NAMJOON GET HER! SHE'LL FALL OUT!" Jin panics.
Namjoon doesn't think twice before pulling me into him and wrapping an arm around me. He kept two hands on the spindle to keep me firmly against him. The ride ends shortly after and Jin rushes out of the cup as soon as the door opens. 
Namjoon lets go and we both follow after him, "WHAT DID I TELL YOU TWO! (Y/N) ALMOST WENT FLYING OUT OF THE CUP!" Jin scolds loudly. I sigh and look over at Namjoon who holds one finger up. I huff before nodding agreeing to give him the point. "ARE YOU TWO SERIOUSLY PASSING POINTS TO EACH OTHER?!" Jin screams.
"Okay Jin they get it. Now stop yelling, people are staring, and not in the good way." Yoongi sighs gesturing to the staring who quickly shuffle away upon being pointed out. Jin huff and crosses his arms, "Fine but you two aren't allowed on the next ride!" Jin demanded. Namjoon and I groan before following after a still pissed Jin.
It only got worse when we found out the next ride was bumper cars, Namjoon and I stood outside the ring watching the rest have their fun. Despite being punished I still grinned as I watched Taehyung, Jungkook, and Shin have their fun. 
I snap a few cute pictures of the three as well as the others. "(Y/N)?" I hear Namjoon call, I hum in response to signal I'm listening. "What do you plan to do after school?" He asks, "Intern at a few places, build a reputation, and ultimately become a head of a design team." I answer smoothly.
"Would you be willing to come work with Yoongi and I?" He asks, my eyes widen. "You would want me?" I question quietly, "Definitely, you're talented (Y/n). If you were to come work with us I'm positive we'll have an edge on the industry." Namjoon grins stilling watching our friends. 
I felt warmness bubble up at the compliment, "Please, I'm sure you and Yoongi are more than enough edge in the first place." I laugh. Namjoon shrugs "There's nothing wrong with too much edge. All the more better to wipe out competitors early anyway." He muses. "That is true," I grin with a nod.
Our conversation ends when our friends all come off the ride. "I want to use my command now!" Jimin cheers. "What can we do for you Jiminie?" I smile, "Each of you have to win me a birthday present from different booths, meaning once someone wins me a gift from one booth no one else can play that game to win me a gift." Jimin explains.
My eyes widen, "Dibs on the goldfish ping pong!" I yelp. The other men around me start to call dibs on games they're best at until we all have a game we'll play for Jimin. "Divide and conquer! I'm going with Shin!" I grin taking Shin by the hand and running off.
"TAKE A GUY WITH YOU! GIRLS SHOULDN'T BE GOING OFF BY THEMSELVES!" Jin called after us, "WELL HURRY UP ONE OF YOU!" I yell back. Yoongi is quick to catch up to us leaving the remaining men to figure out who's to be with who.
We decided to play Yoongi's game first, which happens to be Darts. Shin and I watch as Yoongi receives five darts, to get the best score he has to land three of the golden balloons. Right off the bat Yoongi lands one of the golden balloons, he then hits a red balloon, and then another gold one. Yoongi hits a green balloon next leaving him one dart left to hit the last golden balloon. I let out a sigh of relief as he managed to hit the last balloon. 
Yoongi picks out a giant stuffed bear as the prize. I however want the giant dragon hanging up for myself. I pay the fee and only hit two golden balloons with my five darts. I only got to pick a normal sized prize, which was a heart shaped plush that I gave to Shin.
"Which one were you trying to get?" Yoongi asks once he sees my slight pout. "The fluffy dragon." I grumble, Yoongi glances at the dragon and then back at me. He smirks before handing me the giant bear. 
Yoongi pays the fee again and I nearly choke on air as he hits the three golden balloons on his first three darts, he doesn't even throw the remaining two before he demands the fluffy dragon. The booth worker hands over the prize to Yoongi who then trades me the dragon for the bear. 
I squeeze the dragon with a large grin, "Thank you Suga!" I sing. Yoongi throws an arm around me with a smug smirk on his face, "Anything for you darling." He chimes and plants a small kiss on the side of my head. The three of us made our way to Shin's game, she chose to play cup stacking.
She had to stack and unstack cups below an almost impossible time to receive the top prize. She fails her first time, "It's fine Shin, I'm sure it takes a few tries to warm up." I smile. She nodded her head and sure enough two more tries and she smashes the score. Shin got to pick out a very large pink feathery boa. 
"You know, I didn't even know they made them that big!" I laugh looking at the boa that nearly swallows Shin as she keeps it wrapped around her neck. "I didn't either," Yoongi muses as he too looks at the girl.
We finally make our way to the goldfish ping pong booth, "I've always sucked at this game." Yoongi mutters as I pay for my ten ping pong balls. "That's because you lack a gentle hand." I mutter tossing my ball in the middle of the rows of small goldfish bowls.
"The trick is to throw softly and aim for the middle or first few rows. That way if you throw it too hard it bounces into another bowl." I mumble, focusing on landing the balls in without bouncing them into different bowls than the one I aimed for.
"Or..." I smirk, "If you're a professional...." I whisper before putting a spin on my next ball. The ping pong ball lands in a bowl then spins in circles on the inside. "Show off," I hear Yoongi mutter, I roll my eyes and land my tenth ball into a bowl. 
"Since you managed to land all ten you can pick a betta from our collection," The booth worker explains pointing to the rows of betas. The pretty fish came in lots of colors and fin shapes, I wonder which one Jimin would like?
I scan each one before picking one with a yellow white Ombre body and fins. I collected my prize and started to walk away when Shin pulled on my jacket, "Unnie?" she calls looking away to the fish. "I know you won me something already but do you think you could..." She spoke meekly looking from me to the almost translucent white Betta. 
The Betta is a pretty white that's so pure you can vaguely see the belly of it, The fin span is wide resembling a large fan. "Of course honey," I smile. "Yoongi hold my dragon!" I demand, "I got your dragon baby! Go kick that ping pong's ass!" He grins upon taking my stuffed animal. I gently hand Shin the Betta I won for Jimin before paying for ten ping pong balls.
I put myself in try hard mode as I quickly landed all ten ping pong balls. The man hands me the white betta which I then gave to shin. Shin gives me back my betta and Yoongi gives me back my dragon. "What are you going to name him?" I question, "Him?" She asks. 
"Yeah, Male betta's have bigger fins and brighter colors to attract mates." I inform, Shin's eyes widen at the knowledge before looking down at the beta in her hands. "I think I'll name him Casper," She smiles.
"Like the ghost?" Yoongi asks, Shin nods. "It makes sense." I smile nodding my head in approval. The three of us slowly make our way in the direction of the meet up point, but we stop every now and then to play a game. 
I manage to win Yoongi a small stuffed dog and Yoongi wins Shin a pair of fairy wings. By the time we actually make it to the meet up point Jimin already has a handful of presents. "So how'd it go?" I ask the group.
"Well..." Namjoon sighs, "Jin entered a beauty contest, and somehow won." Namjoon starts. "He gave Jimin the crown he won," Namjoon points out, sure enough a huge ass diva crown is placed on Jimin's head. 
"Hobi won a dance revolution contest and got him this jacket," he explains holding up the bright yellow bomber jacket. It's cute and I'm sure Jimin can pull it off. "I entered a Trivia contest and won him a pair of sunglasses," he continued as he held up a pair of sunglasses that should go well with the jacket.
"Taehyung entered a reflex challenge and won him a stuffed puppy." Namjoon said, pointing to the puppy in Jimin's hands. " and Jungkook did the quest of strength and won a life size teddy bear." Namjoon scoffs as Jungkook waves the large teddy bear around. "So how did you do?" He questions.
"Well Yoongi played the dart game and won him a teddy bear," I explain as Yoongi handed him the bear. "He also won me the dragon." I grin holding it up. "Shin played the cup stacking and won him this huge ass boa," I laugh, untangling the boa from her to wrap it around Jimin. "And I won you a betta at the ping pong goldfish." I grin handing the fish over to him. Jimin's eyes light up at the new pet.
"What's all the other stuff?" Tae questions, "We had time to kill. I won Shin a White beta she named Casper and a heart plush, I got Yoongi a stuffed puppy, while Yoongi won Shin fairy wings." I shrug. "ahh," Taehyung hums.
"I see the rest of you won something for yourselves as well!" I laugh seeing different prizes between the rest of them. They all nodded, "Well let's get home, the fair is going to close soon." Jimin spoke up with a small yawn. 
That's all we need to hear before we start to pile into cars. "Thanks for the birthday!" Jimin calls out before climbing into the car. I let out a blissful sigh as I relaxed into the seat and snuggled into my dragon. It was a good night...
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ferny-berny · 6 months ago
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Is it laziness or am I just scared?
I want to write, but every time I begin my desire disappears at the sight of a blank page. I feel the weight of expectation making the words sillier and more trivial. People tell me it’s okay to be bad at first, but I’m afraid that the moment they read something of mine they’ll look up and say, “actually, nevermind maybe you should let this dream go” and then I’d just die right on the spot. 
The more I talk to other writers I realize that I am certainly not the only one in this situation. We want to create and often find it necessary to have this as an outlet to survive. It seems a bit dramatic, but being able to put thoughts on a page makes me feel powerful; like I have some sort of control over what is going on through my mind. If nothing else, I can choose which words to use. 
Language is such an important part of our existence. I have had entire arguments revolve around the use of a word that makes me feel a different way than the other person. Some may dismiss it as simple semantics, but the truth is life is constructed by the meaning we assign people, places, and things - which is only possible because of language. It holds an incredible amount of weight in our world and beyond that, it is so expansive that I find myself lost in an ocean of words and also somehow grasping for new ones to register in my vocabulary because none of them feel right. 
I spent my college years with a tornado of ideas for pieces that never came to life because it felt impossible to translate them from abstract to tangible. The more I lived, the more it felt right to have some way of chronicling them because that’s another overwhelming feeling I can’t seem to escape - the deep fear of not being able to remember how it felt to be in this exact moment. Whether it’s pain or happiness, I know that at the “end” of it all (not sure when that’s supposed to be because I’m not talking about death) I will want to remember who this version of myself was. 
I guess the thing that holds me back is that I won’t be able to convey these feelings in a way that you can connect with, whoever you are. It’s okay if you don’t like it, as long as you get it and that’s another thing I simply have no control over. 
Over the last couple years I have practiced the art of detachment as much as I possibly can. It slowly gets easier becomes a habit. I can reach the conclusion of: it’s not personal, much faster. However my writing is deeply personal and I’m not the most trusting person, if I’m being honest. I’m reaching a new level of acceptance that I think is necessary to move forward.
For me I don’t think there is any kind of moving forward without telling the world my thoughts and making it known how I’m feeling. In the same way that I’m able to see the evolution of my person on the outside from my photos, I want to be able to track how my brain adapts to what is happening. I want to build and nurture connections. I want to grow. I want to let go of the fear of not being ~good~ 
Isn’t it all subjective? I guess you guys are about to find out.
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softlyapocalytpic · 1 year ago
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The UNICORN Case Files
Within the lower levels of the Lurue’s Island library there is large archive of all the filed cases within UNICORN’s 500 year history. These are but a small fraction, a slice of that storied history.
Case File #2: Aubree Bordeaux Cold Case [Holographic/Wizard]
In the year 419 P.E. the Cirque du Aubree was established by Aubree Bordeaux, an apparent graduate of The College in Andromeda, and an extremely skilled illusionist. It was established in partnership with a long time companion and seemed to have funding from rich anonymous donors from Elvish nobility, however UNICORN was never able to track down who. All attempts were met with dead ends.
Aubree Bordeaux was known for his unnaturally good looks (most certainly thanks to his illusion magic), silver tongue, and the ability to put on a good show. For many decades the circus ran across the world, never staying long in one place, recruiting acts from all their travels. There were Cheongug acrobats, Andromedan sword swallowers, Jujubee fortune tellers, Sanguine strongmen, and Katharizan Wyvern tamers.
Most notable of course was the signature final act of the circus where the ringleader would lead all the acts in a choreographed performance where the illusion magic was put to the max depicting colorful insane worlds beyond ours and other impossibilites. Some rumors speculated that Aubree was indeed capable of pulling unreality or other dimensions into our own, but we never found evidence to support this. Nevertheless, UNICORN's business with Aubree was much more boring.
Aubree was guilty of tax evasion in every territory that he'd toured, larceny within Katharizo, Sanguis, and the Neutral Territories, bribery of the Andromedan Royal Guard, impersonation of nobility in Andromeda, and forgery of his College diploma revealing that he was indeed not actually a graduated wizard.
Considering that his spellcasting focus appeared to be a lute, it's an easy guess where his magical abilities actually came from. I issued a warrant for his arrest in several territories in 477 P.E. and tracked him down to the Neutral Territories where he was imprisoned awaiting his several trials. It was easy to track a man that had left a string of broken hearts behind.
However, on his way to his first trial in Katharizo he mysteriously vanished despite my strict instruction to keep him gagged and unable to use his abilities. Alas, they didn't listen thinking that without his "staff" (a cane he used as ring leader) he would be powerless. I should've escorted him myself, but I wasn't able to at the time.
Nevertheless, while there was many false reports of Aubree across the world I was never able to locate the real charlatan and the circus was disbanded. I made sure that his partner in the business didn't take the entire fall for it and achieved him a lighter sentence for being cooperative. The last "valid" sighting I had of him was a couple years later in the Neutral Territories but by the time my team got there he was gone. Or perhaps it was just another useless rumor.
A charlatan like Aubree Bordeaux doesn't stay lost forever so I'm sure he'll appear with another scheme soon. I'm a patient woman. -Signed by Lurunite & Head Captain Clarisse Bellefleur
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her-gentle-prison · 4 years ago
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Warm like the winter sun
(some fic I had written for Aegon week and never posted, tagging @sayruq bc I promised you! I’m sorry this took so long!)
This takes place in the canon-verse. A little after Aegon takes King’s Landing. Told from Arianne’s POV.
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Winter is here, Arianne thought as she laid a hand on the cool stones of the Red Keep, her fingers already nipped with cold.
She would never get used to the weather. She missed Dorne, and the sun, the fresh sea-salt breeze and the smell of lemons wafting through the air. In King's Landing the very air was foul and heavy, cold and unfamiliar.
It was her duty to stay here though, and so she would.
As she descended the stairs, her footsteps echoing like ripples of water, she thought about Quentyn. He had not come back, and if these sellswords were to be believed, he would be caught in the middle of a war. Arianne felt a shiver down her spine at the thought. She would remember to lit a candle in prayer for him.
She was looking for Prince Aegon in that labyrinth of walls and stairs. 
Siding with him had been bold, and no easy choice by any means. She had made sure Dorne’s allegiance would not be given without a price. Lord Connington had not been so happy about this. As for the prince, he had seemed neither angry nor surprised about it. Perhaps he understood better than others that they were strangers to one another, more than they were family.
She found him standing in an abandoned room, shrouded and silent, and were it not for the warm light of the torches, she would have barely seen him standing there. He looked as if he were carved out of ice. A lonely, etheral figure in the dead of the room.
Arianne stepped in, the bottom of her gown pooling across the blood-red stones. Somehow the room felt even colder. She wrapped the cloak tighter around herself.
"The people are missing you, Your Grace." she said, her breath fogging the air between them.
Dark-blue eyes settled on her, curious. "What are you doing here, Princess?"
"I wished to thank you, for justice." for vengeance
"I should be thanking you, I think," he smiled, "for your spears and for your help. For home."
She studied him carefully, wondering if she should be bold and put his words to the test. The prince had proved easy enough to parley with before. But he would be a king soon, and a prince no more.
"Words are winds, Your Grace. Dorne needs more than justice. As do I."
He took a step closer. "What is it you want?"
If he had asked her a few moons ago, she would have had a ready answer. She had wanted Dorne and her birthright, and the sad girl who had cried herself to sleep had wanted nothing more than her father's love.
She was a princess of Dorne though. It did not matter what she wanted.
"I want a place in your small council", she decided, "and for the rest of ser Gregor's body to be sent to Dorne."
"So you mean to stay here?"
For now. It would take some time before the letter reached her father. Until then she was still to be his eyes and ears.
She smiled. "Are you so eager to be rid of me?" 
Arianne stopped to give the room a closer look. She had not noticed at first glance how unkempt the place looked. Like it had not been used for a very long time. The great hearth was full of ash, and the chair seated next to it full of dust, as if frozen in time. Perhaps in the past a woman would sit there, nursing her babe by the fire. 
"What is this place, Your Grace ?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. It called out to me. I heard a voice, it sounded like a laughter, like a cry... Tell me, is that odd?", he cocked his head to one side. " I heard ghosts roam this castle. I hoped it would be true, so I could kiss the stones here and tell my mother and sister they have not been forgotten."
Arianne watched him curiously. To her, the Red Keep was a bleak and desolate place. She had never thought that to him, it might feel like home.
Arianne remembered her own mother, whom she had not seen in many, many, years. 
She remembered her mother’s small figure, the dancing laughter shining in her eyes... And Quentyn, her sweet doe-eyed brother, would follow the lady Mellario like a little shadow. Like a moth ever drawn to her flame. 
Arianne remembered watching them, envious despite herself, as if she could never truly belong with them. Too much like her father and yet too little as well.
She had not noticed her hand tightening around her gown until he placed a hand over hers.
His hand is warm, she realizes with surprise when he laces his fingers with hers, and covered in nicks and scars.
It's his thank you.
For help, for home.
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thegreatstoryteller · 2 years ago
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The Improvised Chronivac: FRAT-ifier
@dumbmusclehypnojockboy​ Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy your story!
Sometimes moments from the past last long after they’ve passed. For Fredrick Cleston that certainly was the case. It’s been almost a decade since he’d been laughed out of that blasted college for his outrageous scientific genius. They could not even humor his vast intellect with a degree. No. Instead he was found unsuitable for any place of higher education whether it be to conduct his dangerous experiments OR to push the boundaries of physicality and ethics! But no longer would that sorry spot on the collegiate map be considered a place of intellect. Once his machine was completed no one will know this small town for anything other than the idiocy that it has always held. Once his machine was completed, reality itself would be at his disposal! Sure, there had been other geniuses who found ways to bend reality and bend minds, but none like this!
-
No one at Telegre University realized that today was their last day of higher education. The world-renowned university was prided on its academic achievement, claiming responsibility for countless graduates and their subsequent success. Few could argue that this temple of education produced geniuses as fast as application rates! If you weren’t joining the medical track to become a doctor, you were in engineering to pursue grand designs! Perhaps you were a philosopher with the next greatest life methodology. Or maybe a civic genius ready to bring their ideas to law! No corner of this school lacked genius…. Until the day there was a large explosion a few blocks away from campus.
The nearly invisible pulse that surrounded the square footage of the school went unnoticed by nearly everyone! That is until that strange scientist started walking about. Many on social media called out a creeper making his way through campus!
He started with the bio medical section of school. Many of these young minds were eager to cure the ailments of the day. However, as these students studied in class many looked out the window… as if drawn to this strange man holding an odd metal box with strange screens appearing on it.
“Excuse me sir. You’re entering one of our classrooms. Are you lost? Do we need to call security?” One of the students questioned, crossing his thin arms, as he looked condescendingly at the wild looking man of science.
“Young man I’m right where I need to be. Though perhaps you’re lost? You don’t look like you belong in this stogy classroom. Perhaps you belong on the beach!” Dr. Cleston fiddled with his device, adjusting knobs! Moving levers and inputting a simple phrase. “Himbo Surfer” Soon more phrases came up! “Oblivious” “Air headed” “cocky” “high libido” “extremely breedable” and many more filled the screen as Dr. Cleston laughed madly.
Meanwhile the young man who commented stood wide eyed. His normal modes 5-foot frame had begun to contort and grow. Each pulse from this box seemingly affecting his physiology! It started with his feet. The nice leather shoes he’d worn to class began to strain and break. His normally pale feet were no more as tanned skin surrounding sizeable size 14 feet burst forth from those shoes. Then his legs extended! Higher and higher, while thickening perfectly, shredding his boring beige pants revealing a tight hugging pair of board shorts that surrounded and ever-growing ass and bulge! His torso shredded with a single flex as his pudge stomach reversed into perfectly cut abs! His pectoral muscles now revealed to the world with a just the right amount of chest hair as well! Then his arms extended growing powerful with each inch leading to hands that could grab a surfboard with ease! His moans through this process now deepened as it gained a laidback tone and his face rearranged losing his classes and sallow skin. Now tightened into a beautiful smile and longer wavy hair.
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“Haha surfs up bros!” The new surfer said much to everyone’s shock! Though even that was short lived. Did they always have a surfer bro in their class? No that doesn’t seem right… was he always this overt showing off his body?
“My head bros… what was I doing here again?” the surfer asks.
Dr. Cleston smiled. “You were here to have people join your new frat I believe. For surfers and beach hunks.” The man’s words stroked a chord within the empty headed vessel he let out a dumb giggle and nodded.
“Fuck yeah bros. You gotta join my frat! We just chill and hit the waves everyday. Then we flex and show off to all the bros and babes watching for a good time!” He says luring more and more people forward. His voice naturally drew the med students in as one by one the doctor changed them in new ways! Some growing taller, shorter, stronger, tanner. Races and ethnicities were altered permanently as well as age when certain professors left their offices to see what was wrong. Before long the entire area was no longer a large building, but a run-down frat house filled with too many members! Each command entering the chronivac not changing just one! But like a wave it changed larger and larger groups till the enter med student population of the school were nothing but free loving surfers!
The mad doctor Cleston did not stop there. He moved on to the engineering quadrant of the school. There was currently a competition ongoing of who would make the sturdiest mechanical marvel. Some created miniature vehicles, others small clock towers, and even more created actual robots. Though none of that would before long. Like a piper guiding lesser beings to their true calling, Cleston’s device radiated a compulsion for the engineers to approach.  
“You all are so crafty and studious! Though perhaps we should have you allocate that ingenuity elsewhere! Perhaps work with less iron and more… gridiron!” Dr. Cleston typed furiously on his device turning to the smallest runtiest engineer! “You my friend will be the captain the one to lead this team and ensure you are the strongest dumbest unit this school has ever seen!” Phrases appeared like butterflies over this young man’s head. “Captain.” “Ruthless” “Powerful!” “Dominant!” “Tank!” “POWER!” and soon they rang true.
Before this mousy haired youth stumbled back his large legs stomped the ground beneath him. What once was a normal tennis shoe turned into a huge cleat with and even huge leg attached to it as this engineer grew into the largest football player anyone had seen. A jersey replace his normal shirt while a helmet replaced his hat. His nerdy moans grew deeper as he started shouting out for his men to line up. With each step he marched… grassy Astro turf emerged beneath him. Not only was he compelled to make his own team, he was compelled to bring a new field to this college!
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“That’s right captain. Spread you influence. In fact why don’t you start brining me the me for your team. Those lucky enough to be picked by you will be your brothers on the field. Any left over… well I guess we could use some  handsome cheerleaders to motivate you on and off the field!”
One by one this massive American football player grabbed a new stunned engineer and threw him at the feet of Cleston who grew him into another athlete before their eyes. Some join their captain in gathering men. Some simply served the doctor fetching him water and doing his bidding. By the time he was done he was in an entire quadrant of a school that looked like a football field! Young men in full uniform were running exercises and making dumb jokes, while scantily clad cheerleaders danced for them.
The final stop for the doctor was the humanities segment of the school. At this point he had an entourage of surfers and football players. They crowd around the doctor happily serving as guides and guards till the last bastion of this school stands before them.
“Come out all your philosophers and lawyers! I believe it’s time you begin anew in a different court!” This time Cleston did not even wait for the student to come out! He let his device run wild as pulses of electricity now crackled from the machine. Campus architecture began to warp and reshape. Buildings became gymnasiums! Leisurely quad portions became outdoor basketball courts! Even the nearby cafeteria became a variety of concession stands. And the young men that emerged from the area fled, transforming before his very eyes!
One red haired student ran outside, skin as pale as if he’d never seen the sun. But that changed as the professor aimed his device at him amplifying his changes. “Big black basketballer” “Proud” “Self assured” “Giant!” “Godly!” “Champions!” The look of confusion on this face began to shift. His mouth found itself shaping into a confident smirk, as his body grew higher and higher. He felt knowledge leaving his brain as his body inflated with size and power! His entire burst out of his clothes revealing his darkening skin and powerful arms and legs. Large feet to support such a frame with a sizeable package that would draw attention from anyone who could see it! He even drank his water bottle in a way that almost invited a challenge!
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He wasn’t the only one. Countless classmates and the professors teaching them were all changing with these command till a roaring game was going on inside the gymnasium and around the out door courts. Anyone not playing was on the bench cheering on their teammates to glory! Basketball would be pretty big at this university now. As would its players. All of them growing to be bigger and more intimidating than the next!
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At this point Cleston was satisfied and walked slowly to the center of the school, the Dean’s office. His travel companions of surfers, football players, and basketball athletes following him like mindless drones… or a small army.
The bookish Dean exited the doors to his office shaking. “Kleston!  This is absolute chaos you’ve brought to this school. Using such an unstable device could tear a fabric within reality itself if you continue this madness! Shut it off and maybe we can repair the damage before you unleash unspeakable harm to the world!”
“You beg for mercy as I’m about to achieve my ultimate goal! Never! That is why you are the final to change at this school! I’m going to make you the most absent minded sports driven fool of them all!” Kleston blasted his machine right at the Dean who screamed out in surprise as surges of all sorts of changes began to strike him. However this wasn’t just any change! Just like the others it spread… but with no one else around the bolts of changing electricity began to creep up Kleston’s weedy arms… his own device consuming itself and its user as these changes progressed! “No… no! This is not my design. Change him you damn machine! Not me!” He screamed louder and louder! Until a large explosion at the center of campus unleashed every imaginable change!
-
One month later. No one outside of Master Chronivac users remember the illustrious Telegre University. Though ask any sports loving party guy and he’ll tell you he’d love to go to Titan University. Home to the biggest bros, the dumbest academics, and the most intense sports programs. Professionals could never predict how a school with such dumb strategies won their games, let alone certain championships! Many attributed it to the titanic student body this university attracted. Regardless, it serves as a lesson to all people meddling in technology out of their control. Specifically the iconic Twins of Titan U. 
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They are some of the most handsomest men around social media these days… shame they’re too dumb to play any sports. Obviously this was the former Dean of the university and the made scientist Kleston… However, even the most creative Chronivac users could tell them apart. They’ve both been so substantially changed both physically and intellectually that they could not be distinguished.
So, remember not to lose yourself proving people wrong. You may end up just like them in the end.
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