#i have a short music attention span so lets see what happens or if the new shiny second half songs will overtake

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

I think something that's fascinating in the AI discussion is how non-creatives perceive AI versus how many creatives perceive AI.

For example, years before AI was a thing--I spoke with someone about my creative writing projects and they expressed to me how they found it unfathomable that I could just make up entire worlds far removed from our reality of existence. To them, it was like magic.

To me, it was the culmination of countless hours spent playing with words until they flowed into semi-coherent lines of thought and emotion. I remember being ten years old and laboring away on my "biggest" novel project ever--it was 5k words full of singular sentence-long paragraphs and garbled heaps of grammar atrocities to the English language.

If I hadn't written it, I wouldn't have come to learn how to create the basic foundations of a story.

But I do get the "it's magic" sentiment a bit--I'm that way with music. Theoretically, I understand the components of a music composition but it feels like magic to see a musician that can listen to a tune for the first time and play it perfectly due to years of honing in their craft.

That's the premise of that quote from Arthur C. Clarke: "Magic's just science we don't understand yet."

When it comes to anything we don't have countless hours of experience with, it feels like magic. It feels like something that's outside of our feeble human capabilities. It's not until we start to put in the time to learn a skill that it becomes more attainable inside our heads.

Generative AI presents a proposition to the non-creative: "What if you could skip past the 'learning process' and immediately create whatever art of your choosing?"

It's instant dopamine. In a world that preys upon our ever-decreasing attention spans and ways of farming short spikes of dopamine, was it ever a surprise that generative ai would be capitalized in this fashion?

So for the non-creative, when they use generative AI and see something resembling their prompt, it feels good. They are "writing" stories, they are "making" art in ways they could never do with their lack of skills.

(It is, in fact, really cool that we have technology that can do this. It's just incredibly shitty that it's exploitative of the human artists whose works were taken without permission as well as its existence threatening their livelihoods.)

What I think is equally concerning as the data scraping of generative ai is the threat that AI imposes on the education of the arts. More and more, you see an idea being pushed that you don't need knowledge/experience in how to create art, all you need to do is feed prompts into generative ai and let it do the "work" for you.

Generative AI pushes the idea that all art should be pristine, sleek and ready for capitalism consumption. There is no room for amateur artists struggling like foals to take their first steps in their creative journeys. We live in a world where time is money and why "waste" time learning when you can have instant success?

It's a dangerous concept because presents a potential loss in true understanding of how art works. It obscures it and makes it seem "impossible" to the average person, when art is one of the freest forms of expressions out there.

It's already happening--Nanowrimo, the writing challenge where the entire point was writing 50k original words in a single month regardless of how pretty it looked--coming out and saying that it is ableist and classist to be opposed to AI is the canary in the coalmine of what's to come.

For the non-creatives who enjoy the generative ai, it feels like a power fantasy come to life. But for creatives concerned about generative ai?

We're living in a horror movie.

[randombush3]

THE SECOND PART

(to get back to the main post)

carry on reading!!!

[...]

Bali is hot. Or at least, by your English standards, it is. 

The children enjoy the villa at the Ritz, less so the yoga you partake in when your best friends find out that it can mend broken hearts, and there are big TVs in the living rooms that the World Cup matches are broadcasted on. 

Your fingers remain bare, but no one knows about the ring in your suitcase anyway, so no one questions the absence of jewellery that used to adorn your hands. Or, at least, no one whose opinion you actually care about. 

Nico and Elena are happy to play and play and play, barely granting you their attention when you disrupt their endless hours in the pool or exploring the beautiful grounds of the hotel with the 24-hour childcare service. You had been reluctant to accept the help, but Gio was fine with her own daughter being stolen away, and they both called you ‘uptight and preoccupied, a sad, faded picture of how fun you used to be’ until you gave in. 

You let Alexia wonder about how her children are, attributing her lack of phone calls to her focus on chasing World Cup glory, blissfully ignorant to the fact that your friends have been micro-managing your interactions ever since they agreed they aren’t sure about letting you forgive the blonde just yet. That is not to say she doesn’t ever speak to them – Nico was gifted an iPad for Easter (a shoddy, shoddy excuse of an occasion to be given it, but you barely batted an eye as he tore open the packaging and thanked Auntie Anya profusely). He sort of understands how to FaceTime Alexia. They often happen when he is with what Alexia calls ‘the can’t-mother-too-busy-doing-drugs nanny’. 

You are lounging on the sunbeds, sweat pooling on your navel, music playing softly through the speaker Elena had begged you to bring. Though Moana pales in comparison to the days you’d attend concerts that weren’t your own, you are quite content to relax and zone out the lively songs and stare up at the brilliant, blue sky. 

Today is a bit different. You are two weeks into your holiday, with one remaining, and, today is the day you are finally going to open Alexia’s gift. 

You worked out what it was the moment she had given it, but, since you know that curiosity kills the cat, you have stopped yourself from opening it, not sure if you will cope with seeing a ring. What would this ring even be? A ‘sorry I fucked my best friend’? 

Elena hasn’t been included in the children’s entertainment plans for the morning; they have gone for a visit to a coral reef, accompanied by their babysitter and Anya (who you are beginning to think is enjoying their activities more than they are). Despite being relatively advanced for her age, some things fall short, such as her attention span. It doesn’t help that the sleeping issues Alexia had noticed are leaking into her time spent with you, too. 

“Mama,” comes a small whine, followed by a sniffle. Elena has been trying her best to copy you, lying underneath a towel for shade. You had hoped she’d finally fallen asleep, seeing as that didn’t happen last night. With her evidently still awake, you sit up, reaching out to run your hand through her damp hair, not quite dry from when she had enough energy to splash around in the pool. 

“Mama, tired.” 

“I’m not surprised. That’s what happens if you don’t sleep.” 

“Mama.” The petulance is a little glimpse into her teenage years, but then she begins to cry and your imagination falters at the sound. 

Elena, as far as toddlers go, is not the most emotional. She is generally well-behaved, if a little unresponsive at times, but she is quiet and introverted and happy to follow the leader, whoever that may be. She is a complete contrast to her brother, who basks in the attention he demands from those around him, loud about what he loves and hates, yearning to make friends with everything he sees. Elena, Elisabet Segura has told you, is just like Alexia, when she was that age. Controlled, reserved. (And your parents were quick to draw the similarities between you and your son.) 

Just like her mother, Elena is drawn to you. Just like his mother, Nico is drawn to Alexia. Opposites attract. 

It’s hard to ignore if you notice it. 

So, when Elena begins to cry, you are alarmed to see, in her eyes, the same fear that clouds hazel irises you know far too well. The tears glide down her cheeks in inherited patterns, and you try not to panic at how much she looks like Alexia – even if they do not share the same DNA. 

Part of you, the same part that suffered from postpartum depression and dulled your motherly instincts, wants nothing more than to run away from the crying toddler, horrified at the sight as you spiral and begin to imagine Alexia in her place, just as distraught as your daughter seems to be. And it’s weird and unsettling and you are so confused because Elena hasn’t cried like this since you told Alexia to leave. She continues, and even that night starts to seem minor in comparison to her meltdown right now. 

Elena does not sob, she does not scream, she does not shout and go bright red in the face earnestly. A developmental tantrum, sure, but never, ever like this. 

You have never seen this before, and you are at a loss for how to respond. Naturally, you draw her into your arms, holding her close and rocking her gently as she continues to wail. 

“Oh, my darling,” you stagger out, trying to forget your desire to join her, to break down with her. “Mama’s here, Lela. It’s okay.” The words feel inadequate and do nothing to soothe her, though your hands stroke her back as if to rub the comfort in, to absorb her anguish and bleed it out. You would do it, if you could. You’d take all of her pain away in an instant. 

In your mind, a whirlwind of thoughts swells up and disgorges bubbling, burning ideas into the pit of your stomach, none of them quite fitting as an explanation for her distress. Is she hurt? Is she missing Alexia? Or is it something deeper, something you’d overlooked? 

You can be selfish, you know that. Perhaps you have been too focused on getting over the destruction of your family that you have forgotten said family in the process?

Perhaps this has happened before! You were touring for a while.

As you hold her, helplessness washes over you, as though the pool you are right next to has grown thrice the size and is trying to drown you both. You wish Alexia were here all of a sudden. Alexia, gifted at soothing crying children and being a mother and managing a career and parenthood in a way that you have never quite managed. 

Alexia, who gave into your request for children and ended up besting you at it. 

Alexia, whom you still love and miss and hope, sometimes, will wake up beside you even if you know that it is wrong and pathetic and… God, do you really lack such self-respect that you’d take her back? Are you this useless that the crying child in your arms should be passed off to someone else because you can’t cope and you never will and you still smoke because you’re stressed and the last time you took drugs was far too recent to be called a good mother and Elena cries and cries and cries and…

You take a deep breath. 

“It’s okay,” you repeat, hating that you are lying to her. It’s not okay! None of it is okay. “Mama’s here, Lela, Mama’s here. You’re safe.” 

Your voice trembles, and she hears the weakness of your tone, unconvinced and uncomforted, failed by the woman who is supposed to guide her through all of her storms as steady as the sun’s movement each passing hour. Elena’s cries continue unabated, her small frame wracked with sobs as she clings to you, squeezing your skin tightly in a way that tells you that you are not enough. 

You, alone, are not enough for her. 

You can’t do this. 

With your arms holding her securely in place, you dip down slightly, grasping your phone from the tote bag it’s shaded in. It has been warmed by the sun anyway, but the heat of the screen as you press it to your ear is nothing in comparison to the burning in your chest, the fire her cries have ignited in a way that destroys everything in you. 

She continues to scream into your body as the dial tone buzzes and beeps three times, picked up on the fourth as if she has been counting the rings.

“Dime,” Alexia’s gruff voice huffs out, unimpressed that you have called her after refusing for the past month, seemingly always busy. Anya and Gio had given her excuses; you were busy talking to Leah, you were in a meeting, you didn’t want to speak to her. “Now is not a good time.” 

You only manage to breath out her name before she understands that something is seriously wrong. 

“Alexia, it’s Elena… she’s… she’s crying, she hasn’t stopped. Alexia, I-I don’t know what to do,” you admit, voice breaking. You know she will be able to hear the sobs coming from the toddler, her voice mighty and fierce despite how small she seems. “She hasn’t slept at all, and it just… happened. I can’t calm her down.” 

“Is she hurt?” 

“No, no,” you stutter, words tumbling out in a rush, “I don’t think so.” 

“What do you mean ‘hasn’t slept’? Not even a nap?” 

You shake your head, panicked. At Alexia’s lack of response, you remember that she is not here with you. You swallow your own sobs. “She’s been sharing a room with Nico and everything’s been fine, except, last night, she wouldn’t sleep. It was like she was terrified of it. She begged me to let her sleep with me, so I brought her into my bed and, I don’t know, it didn’t help. I tried to tire her out, read to her, sang to her, told her off, comforted her, but she wouldn’t and so I drifted off and she didn’t and we were relaxing today – it’s just us, today – and she started crying half an hour ago and hasn’t stopped.” 

As if on cue, Elena’s sobs grow louder, piercing through the phone line in a way that makes both you and Alexia feel sick. But Alexia has heard these before, and has kept them from you for a very good reason.

“She’s exhausted,” Alexia decides calmly. “She’ll cry herself to sleep.” 

“She doesn’t want to sleep!” you snap, frustrated. 

“She’s scared you are going to leave her. She usually… she usually cries for you, when she’s with me. I guess not seeing me has flipped it.” 

“Usually?” 

You pale. 

“Usually, Alexia?” 

You hear a sigh. “Do you want me to talk to her?” she asks, ignoring your horrified question. “Rub her back and keep touching her, so that she knows you’re there. I’ll… I’ll see if I can get her to calm down a bit so that you can – you need a breather, don’t you?” 

“My daughter is crying as though the world is about to end.” 

“Well, for her, it feels like it is. Put me on speaker.” 

You obey her instruction, reclining on the lounger so that Elena is now curled on top of you, wetting your chest with her tears. You place the phone near her head, both hands trying desperately to remind her that she is not alone. 

“Lela, petita, no estàs sola. Estoy aquí, y Mama también. Mai et deixarem.” 

Elena sniffles, surprised by the sound of Alexia’s voice. 

“That’s it, darling,” you encourage as the sobs are quickly replaced by resigned whimpering. Alexia continues to talk, hardly understandable as you let yourself succumb to your own emotions, your tears running down the sides of your face, hands still drawing circles on your daughter’s back. “That’s it,” you whisper. 

Alexia hangs up when she hears both of you breathing deeply, slowly, softly; fast asleep. 

…

She wipes the sweat from her brow, more exhausted from this than the gym session she had stepped out of. 

“What was that about?” Codi asks her curiously, taken in the blush in her captain’s cheeks, the slight dent in her lips from where she has bitten them. “Rather inappropriate to pick up a booty call when we’re this close,” she pinches her fingers together, “to the semis, no?” 

“Elena won’t sleep with her either,” Alexia says, if not because she needs to tell someone then because she relishes in the embarrassment that clouds Laia’s face as she hurries to take her comment back. 

“I thought you’d overcome it,” Laia replies sadly. “She was sleeping the whole night in her own bed, wasn’t she? That was only two months ago.” 

“She can’t deal with it, Codi.” Her sigh is a little more heartbroken than what is fitting for such a communal area, but Alexia does not care that her hunched shoulders have caught Irene’s attention, the defender well-acquainted with the signs of family issues. “She can’t deal with the back-and-forth. She is only three.”

“It has been a year,” comforts her friend. “Maybe she needs more time to adjust.” 

“Laia, you did not hear her. She cried like she was going to die, and I felt like I was going to die with her. You know how Y/n is with… You remember what it was like when Nico was a baby, when he wouldn’t stop crying. We were lucky that Elena didn’t have that, or that the doctors were more vigilant or whatever, but… I was keeping this from her for a reason.” 

Alexia doesn’t want to guilt you back to her. There is the slightest possibility that, if you were to know just how much Elena has been struggling while away from you, you would suffer through your heartbreak and pretend everything was fine, just to make her happy. Just to make their lives easier. 

But Alexia knows. Alexia knows you wake up every day and relive it again and again. She sees the repulsion in your eyes when you look at her – she saw it through the wine and the pleasure. 

She knows you smoke, she knows the rumours about the parties you go to are mostly true. She knows that the album is about her, and that the success didn’t taste sweet because it exploited your heartbreak. 

She knows that you don’t feel anything towards Leah Williamson, that you’re only trying to get her attention or fill her place. 

Alexia knows all of this, because you are a part of her. She knows how you feel like she knows where her right hand is, and, the worst part about that, is that she knows it is all entirely her fault. 

“Irene, where is Mateo?! Alexia needs her little person hugs!” shouts Laia, sympathy hidden by her teasing tone, which Alexia is very grateful for. “Get the nen, and get him now!” 

…

The unopened ring box travels with you to Australia. 

Spain’s failure to lose has led them to the World Cup Final, and while you are going to support your own country, Elena and Nico are dressed in ALEXIA jerseys, yellow and red stripes painted onto their chubby cheeks. 

You had found out, after the Elena incident, that your friends had been lying to Alexia for your peace of mind, or so they claimed. 

You don’t know how to tell Alexia that you called Leah before you left for Bali and told her that you couldn’t be with her. Or that Gio and Anya had been meddling, going as far as to calculatedly gift Nico an iPad in preparation for a summer of trying to save you from a broken heart. 

So… you send her a heads-up that you’ll be attending the final, wish her luck (but not too much, for the sake of the Lionesses), and ensure the children are down for naps so that they have energy to party late into the night regardless of the outcome. 

As a desperate, short-term solution while separate from Alexia, you had your manager seek out the best paediatrician in Bali and get a reasonable prescription for melatonin, just so that Elena can sleep. You plan to let Alexia focus on her tournament and bring up the issue when preseason starts, aware that drugging the child to sleep is definitely not the best option. 

With another hour of sleep in their systems, you have time to re-pack your suitcases, ready to leave the next day. 

And you are reminded of your unopened gift. 

Alexia had said to open it when you were home, but you reason that home is with your children, and home, due to your career, is often also in the hotel suites in foreign countries. 

You root through the piles of neatly-folded clothes, searching for the box you had buried at the bottom. Its velvet edges are soft under the wrapping paper and the box is sitting in the palm of your hand, naked now, before you realise what you are doing. 

The lid flicks open, and you prepare yourself to see something shiny, some insanely expensive diamond that certainly won’t fix all that she has done. 

But you brace for nothing, for inside the box lies only a slip of paper. 

A boarding pass from London Stansted to Barcelona-El Prat Airport, decorated in aged, black ink.

Scrawled on top of the flight details is something much more valuable than the entrance into First Class the paper allows. 

Eleven digits. 

Your old phone number. 

You remember this. 

It was the night you first kissed Alexia, or, rather, she kissed you. You’d been at some FC Barcelona event, and you’d gone outside because you had realised it might not have been acceptable for Alexia to hit on you in front of all those people, no matter how much she had wanted to. 

You’d smoked to get her attention, to get her to tell you off. To start a conversation. And you had loved her from the minute she kissed you, so tentative, so unsure. 

The boarding pass is sentimental, and you are amazed at the condition it is in, or even the fact that she still has it. 

You drop the box, plucking the paper from the slit it had been situated in, unfolding it, examining it with tears in your eyes. 

You turn it over in your palm, re-acquainting yourself with your memories from that evening. 

And you notice fresh, blue ink written on the back of the boarding pass. 

It’s Alexia’s handwriting, this time, though neater than usual, having clearly taken care to form her letters correctly. 

Can we start again? it says.

There is a drawing of three stick women, short dresses, high ponytails, too. One is circled, an arrow leaping out of the wobbly shape. That one is labelled with your name, and, underneath, ‘esta es mi favorita y me casaré con ella algún día’. 

Marta once told you, at the expense of her club captain, that that had been Alexia’s only comment about you back when they were all obsessed with your break-out girl group and could never talk about anything else. 

Twenty-nine-year-old Alexia Putellas knows that her mistakes have lost her many battles, but twenty-nine-year-old Alexia Putellas also knows that her love will win her the war. Because there you are, and nothing is worth fighting for more than you. 

(to get back to the main post)

[lonelym00n]

Is it okay to run when you're feeling weak?

Part 3 of The Devil Likes the Pirate Series

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Summary: You get closer with Tara and all her friends. She opens up to you about her past.

It had been a few days since you last saw Tara, and though she did follow up on her promise to text you, it was hard not to feel a bit sad about the time spent away from her. And sure, maybe it was ridiculous to be feeling that way, but within the short span of time that you’d gotten to know her, Tara had you wrapped tightly around her pinky finger. 

You’re currently tucked into your favorite corner of Blackmore’s library, textbooks splayed haphazardly in front of you. Your backpack occupies the chair to your right and the two positioned across from you remain empty, a rare occurrence for this time of the year. You would’ve expected the library to be filled with students cramming for exams, but then again, you had to admit that midterm week wasn’t as hellish as you expected it to be. While you normally despised studying, you were honestly just more thankful for the reprieve from being buried up to your eyeballs in assignments. 

Your attention is barely on your studies, way too preoccupied with thoughts of Tara and when you’d get to see her next. The last you’d heard from her was that Sam had her locked up in their ‘dungeon of an apartment’ and that she likely wouldn’t be able to escape for a while. You felt bad for being the cause of not only a huge fight between the two sisters, but the loss of Tara’s freedom too. You’d jokingly told Tara over text that you’d shimmy up the fire escape so the two of you could hangout and she replied that Sam would probably shoot you if she caught you. Having witnessed how scary the older girl was when mad, you certainly weren’t going to find out if the threat was empty or not. 

Just as you’re about to turn back to your work, your phone buzzes with a notification. You curiously shift your eyes to it and nearly jump out of your seat in joy as Tara’s contact name is displayed on the screen.

Tara: hey stranger

Y/N: hey matey

Tara: enoughhhh pirate jokes 

Y/N: okay okay

Y/N: so what’s up?

Tara: i’m bored, pls tell me ur doing something fun so i can live vicariously through u

Y/N: sorry nothing exciting, just studying for midterms in the library

Tara: shit i almost forgot about those

Tara: i hate house arrest

Y/N: house arrest must suck

Y/N: any chance you’ll be off of it soon?

Tara: ughh hopefully sometime this week

Tara: why, do you miss me or something? ;)

Y/N: god you’re insufferable

Y/N: but… maybe i do miss u just a little bit

Tara: awww i knew it <3

Tara: i’ll talk to sam when she gets back from the store and see what i can do

You click your phone off with a sigh. Sam would probably refuse to let Tara out of the house and you’d be stuck thinking about her from a distance. Whatever reason Sam has for being so protective of Tara must be a really good one. You couldn’t even begin to guess what had happened. Tara did mention that she’d tell you eventually, and you made a mental note to be extremely patient with her in the meantime. 

Reaching into your backpack, you pull out a pair of noise canceling headphones and place them onto your head. You switch on some soft music to play in the background while studying and start reviewing the exam material.

You sit hunched over your thick textbook for what must’ve been at least an hour or two. You’re so engrossed in your reading that you don’t notice that the two chairs in front of you are being pulled out. It isn’t until you feel a tap on your shoulder that you register that there are now two people sitting in front of you. 

“Oh shit!” You jump slightly in surprise and tear the headphones off your head. “So sorry, I didn’t even see you sit down.”

You finally glance up to see who is in front of you and promptly choke on your spit.

Tara grins cheekily back at you, grin stretching further at the coughing fit you’re now caught up in. “Surprise!”

“Tara, what the hell are you doing here?!” You practically splutter out the question, cheeks tinting pink (as they so often do around Tara) in embarrassment when you realize that another person is witnessing you literally choke at the sight of Tara. 

Tara mischievously raises a single eyebrow at you and her eyes twinkle with joy, “You should know by now that giving your location to your kidnapper is a bad idea.”

You laugh gleefully at the familiar joke and a feeling of warmth blossoms throughout your chest. 

“Jokes aside, I convinced Sam to let me come here to study for midterms. She allowed it but made me bring a friend with me.” She turns to where her friend is sitting silently beside her and then looks back at you, “Do you remember Mindy?”

The girl looks sort of familiar, but you couldn’t say you remembered exactly who she was. You smile apologetically at her and exchange a quick hello before speaking, “It’s nice to officially meet you Mindy. I’m assuming you were part of the group that helped rescue me?”

Thankfully, Mindy doesn’t seem offended that you don’t remember her. She nods and slowly smirks, “Y’know I’m not surprised you don’t remember me, you were too busy making googly eyes at Tara here to notice anybody else.” 

You flush a deep red before groaning and ducking your head down to bury yourself in your abandoned textbook. 

Above you, Tara and Mindy snicker at your reaction. 

“Told you she blushes easily.” The two laugh some more at Tara's retort.

You lift your head up with a frown etched onto your face. Promptly, you flip both of them off. They each respond with a chuckle.

“Anyways, even though you so rudely insulted me,” you roll your eyes playfully at Mindy before softening your expression, “I want to say I really appreciate whatever your part in helping me that night was. I already told Tara this, but it means so much to me that you guys were looking out for me. I’m sorry for whatever drama I caused in the aftermath”

Tara eyes you softly while Mindy waves off your apology. “No need to apologize. It was the right thing to do and I’m glad we were able to help. Even if Sam did almost kill me”

Tara swats Mindy on the shoulder for her comment. Deciding to change the subject, she scans her eyes across your study space before fixing you with a scrutinizing look. “How long have you been here for?”

“Uhh,” you tap your pencil against the desk while you think, “Two, maybe three hours. Why?”

Tara gasps and tuts at you disapprovingly, “Have you taken a break from studying to eat something at least?”

You shake your head, now that she’s mentioned it, you could use a snack. 

She stands up and gently pulls you out of your seat. “C’mon,” she tugs your arm, “I’m gonna get you a snack.”

Obediently, you go to follow, but stop dead in your tracks when Mindy speaks up in alarm, “Wait, Tara?!” 

Tara sighs heavily, drops your arm, and gives you a pointed look that tells you to wait where you are while she goes to talk to Mindy,

From your spot a few feet away, you can just barely make out their hushed conversation.

“You heard Sam, she said I need to stay with you at all times! We can’t piss her off again.” 

Tara grunts in annoyance, “No, she said not to let me out of your sight. We’re just going to the coffee place right over there, you can watch us from where you are.”

“I don’t know.” Mindy sounds unsure.

“Mindy please? I’ll buy you a brownie and a latte.” You can tell by her adorable tone that she’s pouting and it takes a lot of self-discipline not to turn around to see it.

Mindy draws out a long groan, “Fine! But I’m gonna be watching so don’t do anything I wouldn’t want to see.”

Tara’s smile is triumphant as she skips over to you and threads her fingers through yours. You give her hand a small squeeze. 

As the two of you wait in line, she looks up at you sweetly, “So did you really miss me or were you just joking earlier?”

You bite your lip, hoping to god she won’t tease you if you tell the truth. “I did miss you. You grew on me really quickly Tara.”

She sighs happily, “Good, because I was thinking the same thing. I really missed you too.”

You grin like an idiot, so glad that you weren’t alone in your sentiment. 

The line shifts up slightly and it is swiftly your turn to order. You give the barista your order and motion for Tara to do the same. When she relays her coffee order, you do your best to commit it to memory. She adds Mindy’s items and before she can retrieve her wallet, you whip out your card and tap it against the screen. Tara glares at you but you only smile back innocently.

The two of you slide down to wait for your food and drinks to be ready. 

“Well,” Tara drags out the word and releases a breath, “I know you’re probably wondering why Sam locked me in the apartment or why I couldn’t come here without Mindy. And I do owe you an explanation but-”

You hastily cut her off, “You don’t owe me an explanation for anything Tara. It’s all up to whether you want to tell me or not. Whatever it is you went through, it’s obviously a very big deal. I’d understand if it’s not something you want to ever share with me.”

She pulls you into a quick hug, “I do want to tell you, but I think I need more time. Just so you know though, it’s something that me, Mindy, Chad, and Sam all went through. That’s why we’re all so protective of each other.”

You give her an understanding look, “Thank you for trusting me with that.”

She nods, “Sam’s still really mad at me and she probably won’t let me go alone anywhere for a while. I do want to keep hanging out with you though. Do you mind that it has to be with one of my friends?”

Your brow furrows slightly and you’re fast to shake your head, “No I don’t mind at all. I totally get it and I’m honestly just happy that I get to see you at all. Plus, your friends seem really nice, it’d be nice to get to know them.”

Tara sighs in relief before wrapping her arms around your neck and leaning up to kiss you on the cheek. 

You smile brightly at the gesture. 

A few seconds later your name is called and you step forward to collect the order. Tara grabs the items you’re unable to scoop up. The two of you return back to where Mindy is sitting.

She chirps out a thanks and the three of you enjoy your food silently. The rest of the afternoon is spent with you continuing to study, with Tara and Mindy begrudgingly joining you. You take frequent breaks to poke fun at each other and your heart flutters happily in your chest. If this is what it felt like to have friends, you never wanted to let them go.

From that day forward, you began to spend a lot of time with Tara and her ragtag group of friends. You loved hanging out with them, they were everything you felt you’d been missing in college. Mindy was sarcastic and hilarious and Anika was kind and bubbly. You liked her especially because she would always put a stop to Mindy’s teasing. Chad was cool, but you found him to be a bit more intimidating than everyone else. You didn’t mind Ethan, he was just a bit too shy and dorky for your liking. 

Overall, you found a sense of home in the group. You were so grateful that they accepted you into their circle with open arms. 

Your feelings for Tara were stronger than you’d ever felt for anyone thus far in your life. Her personality shone so brightly, it was no wonder why all her friends gravitated towards her so strongly. She was so sweet, yet so witty, brave, and strong. You are beyond thankful that you were lucky enough to stumble into her life, and you tell her so all the time.

The weeks fly by as you become even further integrated into the group of friends. You’re no longer on the outside, you’re one of them. Not a day goes by where you don’t feel so fortunate to have met them.

It’s after one of your many hangouts with Tara, Mindy, and Anika (you refer to them as double dates in your head) that Tara tells you she has a surprise for you. She takes you to a beautiful park and leads you to a more secluded spot, where a picnic is neatly laid out. You squeal like a child and excitedly run over to take a seat on the blanket. A conversation you can’t make out plays behind you.

“Anika and I are going to be just over there. We’ll be able to see you the whole time. Are you sure you want to tell her?”

Though Tara feels nervous, she nods her head nonetheless, “I trust her Mindy. It’s going to hurt like hell to talk about it again, but I want her to know. Besides, she’s in danger even being around us, so I feel like I owe it to her to tell her.”

Mindy agrees, she’d done the same thing with Anika when things got serious between them. She understands the position that Tara is in. “Okay. Call out if you need us.”

The three girls split off, heading their separate ways. 

Tara plops down next to where you’re splayed out on the blanket, her thigh bumping against your own. You grin lazily at her.

She takes a moment to herself to admire you. Her fingers card through your hair before shifting to smooth the pads of her thumbs across your cheeks. You relax into the touch, sighing softly.

Tara’s lips press to your forehead and you close your eyes at the gentle contact.

She murmurs out your name and you leisurely open your eyes. “I’m ready to tell you about what happened.”

You open your mouth to protest but she shuts down your attempt, “No it’s okay, I want to tell you. Everyone else is okay with you knowing. Even Sam.”

You sit up straight, “Even Sam? She knows about me?”

Tara eyes you a little guiltily, “ I told her a while ago that we’ve been hanging out. She isn’t thrilled about it, but she was glad to at least know. She’s been trying to meet you, but I keep turning her down. I didn’t want her to scare you away before I could give you the full story.”

It’s a little scary that Tara’s overprotective sister knows about you, but you reassure Tara that it’s fine. “Well at least we haven’t been sneaking around her back, she’d probably be more upset if that were the case. I’d love to meet her someday.”

Tara seems thankful that you don’t freak out about it. The two of you sit in silence for a moment. Tara turns to face you, a faraway look in her eyes. Sensing that things are about to get heavy, you give Tara your full attention. 

“Have you ever heard of the Stab movies?”

You scratch your chin in thought. “Maybe? I think I’ve heard of them but I’ve never seen one.”

“Well,” she explains, “The original movie is based upon a series of killings that took place in Woodsboro, California. The two killers, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, went crazy and killed a bunch of their friends. After the first Stab movie came out, the events of the killings became well-known by everyone.”

You’re completely unsure why you’re hearing facts about this movie, but Tara must have a reason, so you remain silent.

“Ever since the original killings and the first Stab movie, different people have taken up the killer’s mantle. These series of killings have been repeated five different times and three of them have taken place in Woodsboro.”

You feel dumb, how hadn’t you heard about a literal horror movie being remade five different times? “Oh my gosh, I had no idea.”

Tara’s eyes brim with tears and she looks smaller than ever at this moment. “Y/N, I moved here from Woodsboro a few months ago.” 

You gasp and tears jump into your own eyes. You gently pull Tara into your lap to comfort her. “Oh Tara, I’m so sorry. It must’ve been so scary to live there.” 

You press a few soft kisses into her hairline as her tears begin to silently drip down her face. 

“I didn’t just live there." She pauses for a long moment. "I lived through one of the killings.”

Oh my god. Your body shakes as your own tears spill out. You hug her closer to you and she wraps her arms around your neck.

After a minute of quietly sobbing, she continues with what you are sure must’ve been a real-life nightmare, “It’s a tradition for the killer to wear a black cloak and a white mask with a screaming ghost face. I was home alone the first time I got attacked. I got stabbed seven different times and the killer broke my leg.”

She cries into your shirt and you clutch her so tightly in your arms. It’s unbelievable to hear that the girl who seems so put together at all times almost died a few months ago. 

“I was so scared when I woke up in the hospital. It was almost impossible to believe that I had survived. And then about a day later, I was attacked again at the hospital.”

You reach aimlessly into the picnic basket and fish out a bottle of water, which you then offer to Tara. She takes a meek sip, but gives you a grateful look.

“After that, Sam decided we needed to leave town. It wasn’t safe anywhere. But, I didn’t have an inhaler with me, so we had to stop at my girlfriend’s house, where I kept a spare. It was a trap, and my sister’s boyfriend Richie and my girlfriend, Amber, revealed themselves to be the killers.”

She sobs brokenly at the mention of her girlfriend. You do everything you can think of to comfort her, even while knowing that it would never be enough to make her feel better. The betrayal of her own girlfriend almost killing her would likely stay in her mind forever.

“Fighting spread all throughout the house. Eventually, Amber and Richie were overpowered. Sam killed Richie but I- I-” 

You coo at her and rub your hands soothingly around her whole body. She’s crying so hard she can barely breathe and you fish out the inhaler you’ve seen her take out of the front pocket of her pants many different times. You spew words of praise and encouragement at her as her shaky hand wraps around it and she takes a puff of much needed air.

Once her breathing has calmed, she continues her sentence from earlier, “I killed Amber. I shot my own girlfriend right in the forehead. I’ll never forget seeing her body crash into the ground. Some days I can’t live with the thought of what I did to her.”

“I’m so so sorry Tara. She never should’ve put you through that.”

Tara sniffles. “I lost so much over the course of three days. We all did. Our best friend Wes and his mother were killed. Chad was attacked and he lost his girlfriend, Liv. Mindy got stabbed in the shoulder. We didn’t deserve to go through all that pain.”

You hum in agreement. The three people you proudly called your friends certainly didn’t deserve that. You had so much more love and appreciation for them now knowing what they’d fought through. 

Tara has calmed down a bit and just as you think the worst of it is over, she speaks up again, “A few more things. Sam is the daughter of Billy Loomis, the original ghostface killer. I learned during Woodsboro that she and I have different dads. Mindy and Chad’s uncle, Randy, was a part of the original killings and didn’t make it through the second. Basically, all of this means that you’re in a ton of danger just from hanging around with us. Ghostface always comes back to haunt the survivors.”

While you should, you don’t care that your life is in danger. You’re more worried about someone coming back to attack your friends. You would never be the same if you lost one of them so cruelly.

Tara has stopped crying, but she still looks so sad. “I understand if you don’t want to hang around us, you know?”

You huff out a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding. Tenderly, you tilt Tara’s chin up until her eyes meet yours. “Tara, I could never leave you or our friends. In fact, you’re going to have to try harder than ever to get rid of me. Now I’m the one who’s not going to let you out of their sight.”

Her brown eyes swirl with so many different emotions as she looks up at you. You’d pay a million dollars for the chance to take a peek inside her head right now. 

You’re suddenly met with the familiar warmth of her lips pressing gently into yours. You melt into the sweet kiss.

Tara pulls back reluctantly and bops you on the nose while she slowly climbs off of your lap. You miss her warmth immediately, but don’t protest.

“Look, Y/N, I really really like you. But as much as I want to be, I’m not ready for a relationship right now. I’m sorry, I never meant to lead you on.”

Tears spring out of your eyes despite your desperate attempts to keep them in. Though you are completely understanding, your heart still breaks at the news. “It’s okay Tara, I get it.”

She wants so badly to reach out and comfort you, but she feels she’s done enough damage for one night. 

You pull your knees up to your chest and cry softly. Tara, who you had flirted with and even kissed several different times, was now telling you she didn't want a relationship. Your hopes had been so high that things were going to work out romantically between the two of you that you hadn't prepared yourself for the possibility of being turned away. Regardless of the way your chest aches with sorrow, you feel stupid for crying in front of Tara, who has gone through so much. 

You swipe your tears away aggressively, berating yourself for your moment of weakness. “Can we still be friends?”

You don’t even really know why you’d asked the question. Being just friends with Tara, the girl you feel so strongly for, is going to tear you apart from the inside out. A whole new set of tears trickles uselessly down your face, clouding your vision completely. 

Tara’s heart clenches at the sadness that oozes out of you, “Of course.”

You can’t stay here anymore and let Tara witness you being a worthless mess. You call out to Anika and Mindy, who come rushing over. 

Before they make it into earshot, you whisper to Tara, “I’m sorry. I know it’s the asshole move, but I just need some time to get a handle on my feelings for you. I still really want to be your friend, but I can’t do it right away. I care about you so much, so please keep yourself safe.”

A protest flies out of her mouth as you stand up and dust yourself off. “I’m so sorry Tara, thank you for trusting me with everything, I’ll never tell another soul. See you in a bit.”

Anika and Mindy arrive shortly after you tell Tara goodbye. They try to call out to your retreating form, but you’re too wrapped up in your deprecating thoughts to listen. The three girls can only watch helplessly as you trudge further and further away.

[boltlightning]

Stupid question maybe but how do you find time and energy and excitement to read books?

Don't get me wrong, I like reading as a form of media. And I have a couple of fanfics I'm keeping up with, and even ones I reread. I think it's important for my vocabulary and on seeing the world. Surprisingly, a fanfic I read helped me a lot in understanding and processing complex trauma.

But at the same time, books intimidate me. I bought a book I know I want to read but actually reading it just scares me. Maybe this is the TikTok attention span (although I always just read with music and in bed). Or the fact I know the book is an emotional piece, either way I can't get myself to start.

Or perhaps it's the fact my brain feels overfull with so much that there's no place for new media unless it's in an universe I'm already familiar with, or forced down my throat by proxy/society.

Are you just inherently excited to read about stuff, or do you also have like a moment where you fight yourself to get started to read?

Also please feel free to ramble about more books you think people should read!

this is an EXCELLENT question, and one i don't know that i'm the best person to answer! i'm pretty flighty about reading and have only gotten back into it within the last two years or so, and largely during lockdown. i have a miserable, internet-y attention span as well, and with so much competing for our attention these days, it can be REALLY hard sitting down somewhere quiet with a book and tuning everything out. i definitely relate.

firstly, i think that fic is a great way to get back into reading! they build up your attention span, depending on the fic, and let you understand what kind of stories you like to read for free, even if it's involving characters you already know. reading work by your peers is always, always valuable.

specifically for the book you own that you know you want to read: make a date with the book! like, literally, set a date and time you know you're free, put an alarm in your phone. put the book somewhere you can see it every day. mentally prepare yourself for it as the hour approaches. do this until you find yourself wanting to pick it up on your own, or until you finish the book. making it a chore seems counterintuitive but sometimes it's the only way to get started.

more tips for getting back into reading in general are below the cut. in general i've sorta...bullied myself into remembering i enjoy this activity. that's also come with the realization that being kind to myself and knowing my preferences are key to building the habit up.

my more learned mutuals, if you have anything to add or books to recommend, please do!!

it's ok to only read what you want to read. it's ok to not finish books. you don't NEED to read big-brain nonfiction or archaic classics if you're not interested in them. and if you don't like something, put it down. you don't have to stay in the world if you don't like it!

use the one-third rule: this works for all other media too. if you start to read something and don't immediately jive with it, read until you're 1/3rd of the way through. if nothing's happened to grab you, that usually means that the book isn't for you and you can move on. you gave it a fair shake! you can let go! this often helps me realize i'm in the headspace for a different kind of story, and that's ok!

make it an accomplishment. i have an awful and ugly spreadsheet where i write down what books i've read this year, when i finished them, and what i thought. my favorite part of finishing a book is writing a short stupid review in this spreadsheet. it's only for me, and yet it feels good to check names off a list.

read books with peers. a huge part of why i read jane austen's novels was because i wanted to understand what everyone on tumblr was talking about, and it's been very fun!! as much as i begrudge it, i think this is the appeal of booktok, honestly — it's fun to meme on stories with your friends. you don't necessarily need to join a book club, but it can be really encouraging to read a book your friend recommended and read it so you can talk to/joke with them about it.

find out how you like to read, and when/where you'll actually do it. for instance, i haaaate audio books and refuse to read on my phone. i'll save good/exciting books to read on the exercise bike to reward myself for biking, or make a fancy coffee to accompany a book i'm struggling to start. treat yourself. trick your brain into associating the physical act of reading with the happy brain chemicals.

reread stuff you liked when you were into reading. i own most of my favorite books just for this purpose. there is no shame in rereading! there is no age limit on any book!! if i feel like my writing is suffering i will usually revisit a childhood favorite just to kickstart my brain.

books i would recommend for getting back into reading (these are all fiction and mostly fantasy/sci-fi. sorry. just what i'm into)

the princess bride by william goldman

a wizard of earthsea by ursula k. le guin

howl's moving castle by diana wynne jones

inkheart by cornelia funke

forestborn by elayne audrey becker

fireborne by rosaria munda

treasure island by robert louis stevenson (language is old, but it's a classic for a reason)

spinning silver by naomi novik. i liked uprooted by her too but it's not as universally loved. damn i should reread these

everyone go read temeraire right now please. thanks

a psalm for the wild-built by becky chambers

nettle & bone by t. kingfisher

the blue castle by l.m. montgomery

this is how you lose the time war by amal el-mohtar and max gladstone

books i would recommend if you want something more toothsome

pride and prejudice by jane austen (again, language is old, but what a banger. persuasion is my favorite by her but a lot heavier)

another oldie: north and south by elizabeth gaskell (although it is often described as pride and prejudice but in the industrial era)

piranesi by susanna clarke

the lies of locke lamora by scott lynch (i would've put this in the previous category if i could. this is great fun, but SO dense)

feast of sorrow by crystal king

the left hand of darkness by ursula k. le guin

notes from the burning age by claire north

genuinely: shakespeare. if you liked a play when you were in school you should reread it as an adult, on your own terms, with a glossary pulled up. they take at most 2 hours to read. i prommy.

i hope...any of this is helpful. again, mutuals, please feel free to add recs or tips <3

[laindependencialuna1899]

Like I said in my last art post in @artbyeritza, I genuinely hate Instagram and TikTok as an artist's platform/ social media. The constant churning of artwork/writing daily in posts and short-form video content will burn you out so quick it will make you feel sick. I think that's partly why there's ageism in the art community in general because who else can churn out high-quality content quick but kids and teens. You probably could if you're an adult and that's your full-time job but if you're trying to get an art commission without a platform and publicity it will stress you the fuck out.

Aside from that, here are other reasons why I don't like Instagram and Tiktok:

They always expect you to post a Reel/Video. Always. The only time I've hit virality before was when I posted my Bakunawa furry art OC in a reel and that did tremendously well but that did not translate to likes on my other art posts or follows

The comment section will tear you to shreds (mostly on TikTok) In IG, while they won't say it directly, they have snide comments too. They can be very supportive BUT THAT IS, if you even get comments.

Most importantly, both video-sharing platforms pander to their big and already established artists. And these artists had the audacity to post art and reels/videos with sad/trending music/sounds, drumming up pity parties when they're already sitting at three digits+ and above worth of followers. I hate that. What's happening is their content gets treated like any other artist out there and they sit with a huge amount of followers any small and unpopular artist can dream of and suddenly they feel oppressed (boo hoo sooo sad I cri). They're not. Small artists usually juggle A JOB and find time for their ART.

BUT WAIT, AM I ABOUT TO EXCUSE THIS HELLSITE KNOWN AS TUMBLR?!? No.

Lmao, as you can see in my main's badges I've been here for a long fucking time, partly because where else can I see cool homestuck artists but I'm sitting on 28 followers on my main blog (this blog) and my art blog @artbyeritza has only 9 followers. My Insta only has 28 followers and mainly it's because it's a new account. In both or any case, posting art of any kind on social media is not a fun experience if you're small and continue to be small despite being on the internet for so damn long. I would attribute it to Meta's broken and ever-changing, un-user-friendly algorithm and Tumblr being old and dead (the same way Gaia Online is). TikTok can make you famous but the US's red scare with the Chinese is constantly getting on my nerves and it eats up your attention span too. With both TT and Insta, they expect you to be a GREAT EDITOR AND ARTIST MASTER OF YOUR CRAFT like it's easy peasy. The dead bird, now eX app (I don't fucking know why people still use it it's good as defunct and Musk will make it worse day by day anyway) had that artists' platform potential but the art community is nasty and has faves too (surprise surprise).

In conclusion, I wish there were proper social media that boosts their artists without the need to throw cash in it (or idk, how about letting your artists be seen THEN THEY DECIDE WHETHER TO PAY FOR ADS OF THEIR ART) and just a place where artists can feel cared for, seen, appreciated and acknowledged.

[greeneyezblackheart]

Okay, before I continue- this is going to sound really, REALLY strange- but consider the source. And it's going to sound like I have no life at all. But you know how I am about GnR, and I just could use some words of wisdom/encouragement about this right now. 🙏

I've had a ton of phases over the years that have been really strong for about four or five years, and then they get replaced. I genuinely get SCARED when I think about GnR just being a passing phase because I don't want to imagine a life without me loving them. I don't want to look back at Slash in a few years and be like, "Eww...what was I thinking?" That would be HORRIBLE. (That's never happened with any other celebrity crush I've ever had- once I fall in love with a celeb, I usually have that crush forever. So all of this is very unlikely.)

All that to say- how have you managed to stay so obsessed with GnR over the years? I don't want this to sound rude, but clearly, they've not just been a passing phase for you. You love them now just as much as you ever did. And I aspire to be like that. I love GnR way too much to face the fact I might not always adore them.

I'm sorry, this must sound so stupid. The time you spent reading this and answering this is time of your life you'll never have back. And if you wanna just ignore this, feel free to do that as well. I always kind of sound like a dummy, but this is really bad, even for me. 💀

Hannah, you’re so adorable, I swear. 🥰

I really don’t know the whys and hows of my long time love for them. It IS a weird question (NOT rude at all), but you’re perfectly valid in asking it. So let’s see, ummm…

Maybe my attention span isn’t short? Or I dunno, maybe my love for them is so strong that it’s enough to keep them foremost in my mind. I do get what you’re saying. As far as passing phases go. I suppose I HAVE had those, but even if my feelings for a certain actor or rockstar or whoever go from near obsession to a low burning flame, I’ve never just abandoned my love for anything completely. I still love them, just not as passionately as I once did.

GNR is my comfort band and always has been. I’ve never stopped listening to them. Like, there’s never been a gap in time where I didn’t listen to GNR at least 3 times a week. And most of the time even when I’m listening to music in general, there’s at least two or three GNR songs in the mix. Their music has helped me thru many (MANY!) issues in my life and that’s very important to me. I never get tired of their music. And listening to them is like coming home. Every time.

Well, there I go, waxing poetic about my boys, and I’m not sure I even answered your question adequately. 😂

[angel-inked]

The Wolf Charmer, Chapter 1: "Chicago"

I feel like this has started out really cute

This is the sequel to Silenced Fire and Patriarch

Taglist: @vvkingofgaybisciutsvv @thequeenofthewinter @hecatemoon87

Howard stomped his boots in a mock square dance as Forrest strummed out a few cords on their daddy's old guitar. Jack laughed and shot back a some of his root beer. "Let me get a hit of that" Howard exclaimed, extending a hand toward the bottle. Jack nodded and handed him the drink, after a couple gulps Howard handed the shared soda to Forrest, who took it with a nod and grunt. Forrest readjusted himself on the front porch railing after handing the drink back to Jack, thus completing the circle. The door swung open as he tuned his guitar and the twins ran out, "don't go to far now" Forrest called after them. "We won't" Lily Rose called back, stopping just short of the treeline to play catch with her brother James as their uncles and protective father kept eyes on them.

At some point, the twins lost their ball in the trees "I'll get it" James exclaimed, taking off to find their toy. "So, was ya able to find anything out Forrest?" Her uncle Howard asked as the guitar music quieted down on the porch. "Well" her dad started, "I may have found someone who can help us, Chicago. I'm gonna talk to them tonight and see what happens" he finished quietly. Lily wondered what dad was talking about, "here it is" James exclaimed, rushing back to his sister "What's wrong Lil?" He questioned, glancing between the front porch and Lily. "Do you know what they're talking about?" Lily asked, her eyes fixed on the three men. "I can't even hear what they're saying" James explained, giving his twin a confused look. "What?" Lily asked, equality as confused.

"I'm headed out there tonight Howard" Forrest grumbled. This confused little Lily even more, her dad had a reputation of saying very little and when he did speak, his voice was quiet, how could she hear him from where she was standing. "Ow!" Lily exclaimed suddenly as the ball collided with the side of her head. "James!" She snapped. "What's goin' on over there?" Forrest hollered, his wolf senses locked in on the voices of his children. "I didn't mean it" James exclaimed immediately. Suddenly Rose stepped out the door, "kids, lunch is ready" she called. The twins ran back to the house, James carrying the ball under his arm. Rose kissed them both on the head before sending them inside.

She turned her attention to Forrest, the bottom of her black flats clicked against the wooden porch as she approached him. She draped her arms loosely over his shoulders, running her fingertips along the side of his temple and behind his ear as if she were brushing back imagery hair. "You're beautiful" she sighed, her brown eyes never leaving his blue ones. "I’m not beautiful, I’m whatever the opposite is" Forrest mumbled. Rose shook her head, the look in her eyes almost angry that he would disagree with her statement. "Yes, you are. I don’t fucking lie"  Rose said sternly but quietly. Forrest bowed his head in what Rose took as submission, so she continued rubbing and massaging his neck.

Forrest sighed, it was a satisfied sound, his broad shoulders dropped a little as he relaxed into her touch. Rose tucked her hand under his chin and lifted his head until their eyes met and their lips connected, Forrest smiled lightly into the kiss. Howard shook his head, "You're somethin' else Rose, ain't never seen my brother relax into someone willingly outside of myself and Jack" he smiled with a slight laugh. Forrest rolled his eyes at his big brother, which only seemed to make Howard chuckle more. "You boys are something else!" Rose reiterated, pointing a finger at Howard. A small chuckle was heard, it was barely audible but it was there. Howard grinned and ambled his way to Forrest' side, "is it just me?" He slumped against the railing and slung his arm around Forrest. "Is it just me or did we just get you to smile and laugh all within the span of five minutes?" Howard asked, lifting his wrist to check his watch. "Fuck you Howard" Forrest grumbled, despite sounding annoyed he leaned into his brother's side. Cherishing the warmth and comfort being tucked safely under his big brother's arm provided. Sure, the brothers insulted each other on the regular but Forrest wouldn't rather be anywhere else than the grip of someone he knew would risk everything for him and knew he would do the same for them.

Howard returned the action, leaning more on Forrest and wrapping his other arm around his younger brother. Howard's cheek rested on the top of Forrest' head "Jack" Forrest called, gaining the full attention of both his brothers. "Get your ass over here" Forrest mumbled, gesturing with his hand for Jack to join the brotherly love fest that had started. Jack nodded and stood, walking over to his big brothers. The youngest layed his arm atop Howard's on the middle brother's shoulders, Forrest didn't mind being squished by his brothers weight. He had proven them wrong before when they didn't think he was strong enough to lift them both at the same time, which he did before dropping them off in a mud puddle but he did it none the less. "You guys are cute when actually get along with each other" Rose giggled, kissing her husband's lips. She pecked Howard's cheek and briefly kissed Jack's forehead before disappearing inside.

[dearestgojo]

Hi hi!! I hope you’re doing well :)

i haven’t followed you for long, but have noticed that you tend to make quality fics in impressive timing. I just wanted to know how you manage that, like maintain motivation and focus. If you can’t answer that’s absolutely fine !!

I honestly heavily congratulate you for managing to write high quality stories in such short time. i’ve been working on a few of my own and struggle with focusing on writing and obsessing over how i write it. So, to come on and witness you writing a 2k word one-shot in 2 hours is so impressive 😭🫶

Helloooo 💞, I'm doing well, getting over a cold. What about you? Hope your Wednesday is going good. the response it a bit long so I put it under the cut.

tw: mentions of struggling with jealousy

I wanted to answer this properly, so I waited until I had some time to pull out my laptop. The truth is I'm really bad at maintaining motivation and concentration on writing, I have several one-paragraph written ideas or fics that I ended up abandoning for the time being as proof of that. Writing a 2-3k one-shot fic in a span of a few hours is very rare for me cause I prefer to put that energy toward my longer fics, and I might argue that my writing tends to suffer even more than it does already when I don't spend time mulling over the details (ex: vocabulary). But every once in a while I get into this zone and just let myself type away and let the fic carry me where it wants. Letting the little ideas as I write to do the work for me, and not thinking too much about whether or not any of it really makes sense, and sort of just write for myself (and @sunaswife).

I've also struggled for the better part of a year with staying motivated to write and struggling with jealousy toward other writers who appear to be doing a lot better than me, constantly questioning if my writing is good enough. Seeing others constantly hit 1k notes in the tags, continuously putting out fics that hit that mark in a few days, while I struggle to even hit 300 notes in weeks, doesn't really make wanting to keep writing any easier. But here's the thing I let myself have my moment, let myself feel jealous, and turn that little bit of green that was allowed to feel into something productive, by picking up one of the fics I have partly written and writing a bit more for it. And I'm not sure how many writers struggle with jealousy, especially smaller blog fic writers, because I personally haven't seen many people talk about it, and when it's talked about it's usually negative, like how an anon might be jealous writer sending hate (which I think at times is true), and I personally feel like it should be talked more about cause it's a completely normal thing to feel that you can reflect on and use to motivate you to keep or improve your writing.

There are a lot of things you can draw motivation from, turning something negative into something productive (ex; jealousy, pettiness), random inspiration, making a deadline for yourself, etc.

As for how I stay focused for a couple of hours when I write something in a few hours like last night, it's hard to explain, but when you are in the zone of just writing for writing there isn't much happening outside of what's going on between your brain and the screen in front of you. There's nothing else in the world but just you and your computer. If I'm writing because I need to put something out, like a chapter or a fic I'm about to finish, I put myself in a quiet room when or where I know no one is going to bother me, and just spend the day mulling over the fic in front of me, taking an occasional break and food break to keep my blood flowing and not grow frustrated with myself. I might play a movie to play in the background, something that won't draw my attention too much so it might be a movie I don't like or have already watched, or play music, just because I hate very quiet spaces and would drive myself crazy if the room is quiet enough I can hear the sound of my heart or voices in my head.

And thank you, last night was just one of those rare moments when I felt like writing just to write, and not worrying over the smaller details, I'm not sure when it'll happen again. Worrying and obsessing over small things in a fic is something I think we all struggle with, it's hard to just let go of those things, but I do hope that you get to experience an in-the-zone moment with your writing, cause that's really what happened last night and it honestly doesn't happen the often. Most of the fics I release might have been sitting in my drafts anywhere between 2 weeks to almost a whole year.

[theghostpinesmusic]

So, when I first started writing about Goose jams regularly, I had a huge backlog of Euro tour shows to watch, and I thought it would be fun to occasionally write about a notable jam from the tour as I worked my way through the shows. Then I got to the end of the tour, weighed in on a few jams from Goosemas as well, and now...there's no more new Goose for the foreseeable future, for what seems like the first time since I started listening in 2019.

I'm going to survive, probably: it's actually been really fun diving back into other music over the last month-plus since Goosemas. I've caught up with some artists I used to love that had sort of fallen off my radar (Fleet Foxes, Wilco, Tallest Man On Earth), tried a few things I'd been meaning to try that I bounced off of (Dawes, Mt. Joy, Lord Huron), discovered some great new stuff (that Andre 3000 album is legitimately good), enjoyed some other jam bands (Spafford, JRAD), and remembered that I do, in fact, love Phish. And that's just in a month of listening!

While Goose's break from touring might mean that the scope of the jams I write about will broaden (I'll definitely share some Phish clips soon, and maybe some Spafford stuff), and it will definitely mean I write less of these posts than I have been lately, I do want to take some of the band's time off to return to some of the jams and shows that have had the biggest impact on me over the last four years.

This band has not only constantly grown and improved over the last four years, they've also blasted out such a nonstop barrage of content over that time that a) it's been hard to even hear/see/absorb it all once, let alone ruminate over much of it, and b) now that the fire hose has been off for a month, the prevailing attention-span-addled fan's attitude seems to be that Goose is done, and it's time to move on to a new fire hose.

To be clear, I'm not writing these posts to argue with some internet strawman, but once you engage with enough of these people often enough, their negativity sort of burrows into your brain and sets up shop (at least if you're me). The best counter to this, I've found, is to stay off social media and write stuff that makes me happy instead.

So, in that spirit, expect to see the occasional "archival" Goose post for the next few months as I revisit jams from the past, both from shows I attended in person and from shows that I just like a lot.

We're going to kick things off with "Rosewood Heart" from the 2/3/22 Wonder Ballroom show, which I attended. Because I haven't covered "Rosewood" yet, I'll have to talk a little about the song first.

And, because this show happened in early '22, I'll have to briefly talk about COVID-19. COVID first, I guess.

So, I could fill (and occasionally have filled) virtual pages of this blog with my thoughts on my experience of COVID-19 and the various ways in which it (mostly horribly) divided my life into thirty-eight years Before and (as I write this) four years After. But I want to focus on the jams today, so suffice to say that 2020 through 2022 was rough for me, like it was for many people.

In tough times, I often turn to music for perspective, escapism, catharsis...you name it. And of course, during 2020, new music was in short supply. Live new music was, basically, not happening. Honestly, as much as I love Goose for their songs and their jams, I think part of the reason I fell so hard for them during this time was because they were the only band still playing. That not only meant they were still putting out new music, it meant that you could watch a livestream of, say, Bingo Tour, and see evidence that someone out there was still doing something besides sneaking to the grocery store at 10pm and hand-washing their tomatoes. This is why, to this day, 3/27/20 is still one of my favorite Goose "shows." It's a good show, but under the circumstances at the time, being able to livestream it made me feel like maybe the world wasn't literally ending.

To cut a long story short, things slowly got better. I saw a bunch of shows in the summer of 2021: Phish at the Gorge and Shoreline and JRAD at the Frost and the Hollywood Palladium. It was a bit freaky to be around such large groups of people at the time, but my mental health was such that I also couldn't imagine not going. Standing out under the sun on the Gorge lawn was sort of the first time I'd felt normal in a year and a half at that point.

Of course, all of those shows were outside and it was easy to socially distance on the various amphitheater lawns (the Palladium is an indoor venue, but it wasn't sold out and it was easy enough to wear a mask and stay out of other people's bubbles during the show). The Goose shows I had tickets for in the spring of 2022 - the first headlining shows of theirs I would ever see and my first in-person Goose show since 2/20/20 - would all be indoors. What's more, in the months before these shows, following the halcyon days of summer '21, more and more concerts had become superspreader events, and frequently shows and entire tours were getting cancelled either because the performers themselves got COVID, or because the band couldn't justify the risk (to themselves and to their audience).

In summer '21, seeing Phish and JRAD had felt like reassurance: not all of my old life was gone, after all. But getting to see four full Goose shows in person in February of '22 felt like a possible step forward into a life beyond whatever the last year-and-change had been.

I was, of course, totally terrified for weeks before the shows that a) someone in the band would get sick, b) I would get sick, c) the tour would get cancelled for safety reasons, d) my car would break down, e) the weather wouldn't cooperate and I wouldn't be able to cross the mile-high pass to Portland, which frequently becomes a death trap during winter storms...

...and so on. It almost seems silly now (and is sort of hard to explain) how desperately a lot of people clung to this or that one good thing they had to look forward to during those times, and for me, for most of early 2022, it was those shows. I had lost so much over the previous year, it sort of felt inevitable that these shows wouldn't happen, that there would be some tragicomic denouement to the one thing I had allowed myself to look forward to.

But everything worked out!

My first show of the run was in Bend, on 2/2. This was a bit poetic, as my first (and only) Goose show before this had also been in Bend (the 2/20/20 one). It was a great show, but the venue was way oversold, so my wife and I hung way in the back, where we could approximate social distancing, and we wore masks the entire time. Of the two Wonder Ballroom shows on 2/3 and 2/4, conventional wisdom is that 2/4 was better, and the band clearly liked it better, too, as they posted the entire show on YouTube...but, I found 2/3 to be way weirder and more interesting for my money, including the "Rosewood" that I'm actually, finally going to get to here shortly. My last show of the run was at the Neptune Theater in Seattle, which was an absolute scorcher of an "encore" show...suffice to say, I went home happy.

While I certainly wouldn't say that this "Rosewood" was the best jam of the entire run (in my opinion, it's in about fifth place), there's a great video of it, and like I said a million words ago, I haven't written about a "Rosewood" yet.

Despite my ranking-language in the previous paragraph, I try to avoid rating and ranking art these days ("Comparison is the thief of joy," and all that)...but if you put a gun to my head and commanded me to pick a favorite Goose song (this is a weird situation, why are you doing this to me?), there're pretty good odds that I would choose "Rosewood." It's an older song of theirs (first played in 2015!) but also always sort of a rarity (only played fifty-five times total over eight years). There's a version of it on their first album, Moon Cabin, which doesn't sound a ton like the current iteration of the band (because it's not), but still gives you a nice snapshot of what makes the song great. In short, it's got some of my favorite compositional flourishes (especially on bass and keys) without being overly compositionally complex, the lyrics do that thing Rick does so well where they allude to a sort of mythological or existential lesson without getting so abstract they lose meaning, and...it's just a real pretty song, you guys.

So, finally, this version in particular. I was stuffed into an oversold Wonder Ballroom in Portland with hundreds of other fans, I was trying not to whack anyone with my poster tube, and I had already sweated through my mask, but I was pumped to hear my first live "Rosewood Heart."

It might just be me, but I feel like this version draws out the introductory noodling a bit longer than usual, before the drums kick in earnest at 0:52. We move quickly from ethereal swells of sound to cascading piano and guitar lines before Rick comes in on vocals. You'll notice immediately during the softer parts of the song how fucking loud the audience was throughout the show. Please go to a concert only if you plan to listen to the music. There are many other places in the world where you can talk.

I love how the feel of the song changes with the bridge section at 2:22. Trevor's bass parts here are particularly great. The piano break at 3:04 is also fantastic. The jam proper starts after the song's vocal outro, at 5:52.

Rick starts off with the lead, and the first thing I notice listening back is how much tinnier and thin his guitar sounds than it typically sounds during a '23 show. This isn't necessarily a good or bad thing in my opinion, but he's almost got a '09-'10 Trey Anastasio effect (what we jaded Phish fans called "the whale call" at the time) going on here. I like it way better when Rick does it, actually.

This beginning section of the jam has a really jazzy feel, because of Rick's playing but also the beat Ben is laying down and the scattered piano chords Peter is playing. It's pretty abstract compared to your "usual" Goose rock jam, which is neat.

Rick starts building some momentum at 7:40, and the band picks up the energy to match his shredding. There is an absolute Wall Of Cymbals here that is just great. Post-peak, there's a few minutes of high-energy shredding before Rick steps back at 10:00, setting the stage for the next jam space.

After a short, spacey interlude, Peter starts developing a riff (do you call it a riff when it's on piano?) on piano. Along with some great, nuanced drumming from Ben, this sets the stage for the next portion of the jam. This almost-but-not-quite-disco jam is a great example of what I often think of as Goose's "default" 2022 jamming style. Basically, Peter homes in on a particular "sample" that he plays over and over on keys for a few minutes while everyone else plays around him. It's something that happens a ton during many of the band's twenty-plus-minute jams from this year. I don't know if it's a matter of Peter not wanting to or being able to lead jams in other ways (he's a fairly new keyboard player, as per my understanding), or if this is just a reflection of the band's electronica influence (see songs like "Creatures" and "Into The Myst,") but they got a lot of mileage out of the approach during this year, to the point that I enjoyed it at first, but was getting a little tired of it by December. They'll come back to it occasionally these days, but to my ears, Peter's approach to improvising on keys is way more varied than it was two years ago.

All that said, the keys "sample" does provide a great foundation for this jam, as long as you're not being a grumpy, jaded fan about it. Rick adds a lot of flavor on rhythm and melody guitar, the percussion dropping in and out adds variety, and Trevor builds a nice, comfy wooden fence around the whole thing to keep it reasonably contained.

Things slow down a little at 17:10, when the bass drops out and then the drums switch up. Rick changes his playing shortly after to something that sounds a ton like "Atlas Dogs" in a cool way and the lights even change to something a bit more nightmare chic to reflect the jam's dark turn.

This second build really feels like it's driven by Trevor, and I'm here (there?) for it. The camera's focus on Jeff tearing it up also brings into focus what the percussion contributes to the energy. Rick, of course, comes in at the end to cast out all demons and nearly destroy the FOH camera setup.

The video fades out at the end as the jam wraps up, though in "real life" this was a transition into a great version of "Indian River."

If you've read all the way to the end of this, God help you. I didn't mean to write this much, but writing about music is a) fun and b) a way to procrastinate doing the writing I'm actually supposed to be doing. So, thanks for enabling me!

I'm not sure what I'm going to cover next, but I'd love to rewatch/revisit some of the other '22 shows I attended, especially the Dillon shows and NYE in Cincinnati, so...maybe that's next?

[littlecafe]

my favorite k-music releases of the first half of 2022  01/01 - 06/30

everything is a youtube link, albums are linked to the official youtube playlist created on the artist’s channel

songs

01/15 through the darkness ost: lullaby - nerd connection (9)

02/14 invu - taeyeon (3)

02/17 satellite - suzy (7)

04/17 january embers - swervy (6)

06/08 beodeul-gil - nerd connection (67)

+ honorable mentions: 03/03 blush - glen check ft. sokodomo (42) , 04/04 hurdle - suho (13) , 04/25 verivery - undercover (25) , 05/27 hot - seventeen (16)

albums

01/19 devil (the 2nd mini album) - changmin (1)

5/20 the beginning: world tree - forestella (8)

+ honorable mentions: 03/03 bleach - glen check (9) , 04/01 butterfly - ourealgoat (19) , 05/04 colorful trauma - woodz (35)

plus

songs that are now receiving plays after june that were actually released before june because i’m fashionably late:

05/13 btbt - b.i. ft. devita, soulja boy

05/03 weol - from20

-

formatting explained: mm/dd title - artist (last.fm position - filtered to 06/30)

[soulwillower]

semi-charming •  bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested:  Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :)    +      AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH     +     don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝

i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj

also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh  !!!!!!!!!

warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au, 

(losers + reader are 19+.)

4.1k words

♡

the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional. 

it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that. 

but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake. 

a loud thump made you jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise. 

it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely two minutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door. 

your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes. 

three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room. his sweaty bare abdomen made your eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.

"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either. 

“so what is your fucking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raised his brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, cocky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music." 

you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknight and you had class in the morning, "wh- what, no- i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a fucking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off." 

then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, started laughing. the other one laughed too, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation. 

"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding. 

"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give. 

"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in." 

your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it. 

"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to fucking hit him. 

you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped, sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?" 

you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms. 

but a deep voice grunting 'ow, fuck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're reminded that you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?" 

that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so cocky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person. 

but as bad as the first two experiences were, the third time you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst. 

your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg. 

you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.

it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall. 

but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!" 

his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him. 

"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either. 

"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts. 

he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet. 

"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack." 

he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all fucking night if you aren't strong enough to move this shit?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf. 

he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot. 

you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you. 

he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip. 

it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane.  "y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says that on my door." you say breathlessly. 

whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth. 

he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away. 

you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid. 

his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh. 

you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being fucked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from. 

when he finally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg. "mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done." 

"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated." 

you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly. 

he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen. it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're just horny.

"i thought you were cute, you know, until you showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised, "i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch." his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back. you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point, "i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are,  i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk. 

"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out. 

"because i kind of want to fuck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to fuck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you. 

you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed cock as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you. 

then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasure it gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own.  "fuck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving? 

he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants. 

he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly. you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes. 

"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down. 

he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate. 

he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against your mattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how fucking beautiful bill is hitting you at once. 

you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tits, pinching your nipple as you grind down against his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his pants against your clothed clit. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb making contact with your clit takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure. 

"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.

"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?" 

you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "fuck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's fucking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to." 

you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his cock. 

and then you’re pushing aside your panties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick fucking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back. 

“shit, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly. 

he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss his neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.

“fuck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily. he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.

"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you fuck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd fuck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging. and your hand rises to squeeze around his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan. 

his smirk sends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling in your core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.

you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep. “i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums. 

your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.

your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out. 

he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. then his thumb snakes its way to your lips, his grin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce. 

"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his cock warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his cock, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building. 

"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundly before pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his cock before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours. 

your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.

 "you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to. 

you watch as his eyes admire the half-lids of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already. 

he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your cunt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple. 

you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum. then his thumb rubs circles on your clit and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “fuck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his cock in bliss, your orgasm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says cockily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours. 

“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close. 

"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters. 

you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, fuck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he cums, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name. he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall. 

"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous. 

"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease. 

you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him. 

tag list:  @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier  @sft-core @clownsloveyou  @moon-shine-baby  @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie  @decafcoffeew

[huenjin]

just wanna be loved.

pairing: hyunjin x reader | bff2l!au, pornstar!au, lawyer!au

word count: 4.512 words.

tw: pornstar!hyunjin, mentions of alcohol, nsfw content — dick piercing!hyunjin, dom!hyunjin, porn shooting [mutual masturbation, blow job], making out, office sex, blow job, hand job, mouth fucking, deep throating, a lil ball play, just a lil, facial, fingering, clitoral stimulation. establishment of fwb relationship !! reader is super heartless !! and hyunjin must be protected at all costs !!!

music rec: can you hold me | nf

note: pt ii. of the pornstar!hyunjin series. read pt i. here. it's finally here and it has a plot. thank you for convincing me to make this into a series, i'm grateful and i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing. unedited, like every other work of mine.

hyunjin swears to god that he has been at the very brim of snapping at the next person he sees.

see, hyunjin is a very patient person, usually. very very patient. but with how you are ignoring his calls blatantly, his head spirals out of control. it is the pent up frustration of being forgotten even temporarily by you that gets him on the verge to snap.

and not even his hands moving frantically up and down his dick before the woman in front of him as she touches herself to the sight of a naked man masturbating — lights hitting off the piercings to make the angles sharper as the camera pans out from his hands wrapped around his cock to the scene before them — is enough to get this anger to fuel down.

how dare you ignore him after everything that went down? after him saying he doesn't want to lose his friendship, after him saying you're the one person in his life that he cherishes the most?

his hand moves quicker and the woman crawls forward. her hand is still covering her core as her fingers plunge deep into her, the squelching sounds so loud to hyunjin's ears. she sticks her tongue out only to lick small stripes at the head of his cock, her tongue circling around his piercings.

hwang hyunjin is usually a calm person but the very thought of this woman not being you, is more than enough to anger him today.

the black hair he now dons is slick with sweat and sticks to his forehead. you should have noticed that. he storied it on instagram, for fuck's sake, just to get your attention and what does he get in return? nothing. usually, you would tease him over his poor scalp, or tell him that he looked good. this time, however, he gets dirty silence and he knows he is to be blamed.

hyunjin rubs his cock from the base as the woman wraps her lips around the head, tongue lapping every single drop of precum from that oozes out from him. not that porn ever subjected him to fantasise about the woman before him, his mind automatically shifts to you.

and god, were you beautiful that night under him. it's your breasts that come into his head first, the way your hands trailed over them and played with them before him. the way you begged for him. the way you were his even if it were just a night.

and that's enough to bring him close. you are enough to break down hyunjin completely and leave him defenseless. he ruts into his hand and the woman moves further down, taking hyunjin more as he gasps.

hyunjin signals at the director and he calls for a cut. the woman takes him out from his mouth and he comes undone in his hand. he spills all over his hand messily, spilling it on to his stomach and his thigh. the staff members rush into the scene — to help hyunjin clean himself up and to his co-star with a good amount of fake cum lube that she fills her mouth with for the next take.

maybe hyunjin did ruin a friendship. he should bear the consequences rightfully.

but not until he hears it from you. hyunjin needs to hear it directly from you.

that is what leads hyunjin to your law office — kim and chang — right after his shoot. the sun has set and he knows you would be done with work for the day hopefully, unless you took up even more pro bono cases to keep yourself busy. at least this is what hyunjin keeps saying in his head to justify you ignoring him.

he has been here before and he knows exactly where your office is. hyunjin used to brag once upon a time about being a very level headed person, about how he wants what he wants. that's what made him take this whole pornstar path as he studies law at the same time. he wants to work here in seoul's biggest law firm, with you. the path to that, however, is a tough one (and an expensive one) and he knows. but if there is one thing hyunjin knows, it is that time is a bitch.

and time is such a huge bitch that hwang hyunjin walks in to your office exactly when seo changbin, your boyfriend, breaks up with you.

(not that he wasn't expecting it. just that he hoped it were already done and that it was you dumping seo's shitty arse.)

"we can't do this anymore, y/n. you and i," he sighs, "we're not compatible. you're broken and—"

"hate to break in between," hyunjin clutches the wooden door of your office room tightly, anger seething through him as soon as he heard the word you and broken in the same sentence. "but, don't pin your inefficiency on the girl, man."

"excuse me?" seo changbin looks like he got slapped on his face. hyunjin's eyes flickers momentarily towards you — your delicate figure holding the wooden edges of your table in disbelief, and he knows you — you who would normally do a good job defending as a lawyer, would do a pathetic job right now defending your honour because you loved seo changbin once upon a time and your heart could never set you upto that again.

"i said what i said, dude," hyunjin walks in to the office completely. he leaves the door open, wider than before almost as if he is signaling changbin to walk out, that this is not his place for him to walk and do what he wants, that you are your own individual and you deserved so much better — someone who would love you for the most perfect being you are in his eyes (albeit that being not him as much as he wishes it could be).

changbin drifts his gaze from the man to you and asks, "were you dating someone else while you were with me?"

"hyunjin is not someone else, binnie," you bite your lower lip. "and no, i was not. this breakup involves just the two of us. we don't need a third person involved to ruin what we had. the two of us were enough to burn it down into ashes."

"i'll see you tomorrow then," changbin shuffles the balance on his feet, looking uncomfortably at you and shooting hyunjin a look filled with disgust. "are you looking at some pro bono cases and staying overtime? i told you—"

"you don't have a tag anymore to tell me anything, changbin. so drop it. i'll do what i have to do." your voice is ice cold and even hyunjin, a third person in this whole scene, feels the shudder run down his spine.

changbin drops his shoulders in defeat and merely mumbles, "let's get along well, y/n. we are colleagues after all," before leaving your office. you take a step back, chest steadily rising and falling and you lean against your office table, your grip on it strong.

and if there is one thing that can make him forget everything — his emotions, his well being, his sanity — it is you. the very sight of you hurting with all the built up emotions from what just happened makes hyunjin forget the anger of being forgotten.

all he wants to do at this point is be there for you.

he looks at your quivering figure, head down and he knows your eyes are probably brimming with the tears you are trying to hold back. your knuckles are pale at how hard you are holding the table and hyunjin hates how another man just hurt you right before him.

hyunjin carefully takes a step forward, mumbling, "do you want a hug?"

you nod, your head down and your gaze on your feet firm on the tiled floors of your office. you can hear the soft foot steps of your best friend getting louder with every millisecond before his arms wrap around your figure and he is pulling you into his warm chest, humming the tune you are so familiar with from him. his embrace is warm, and his big, strong arms seemed very protective when wrapped around your frail body. the world around you melts away as you squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end.

and you sob. soft coughed up sobs that you tried so hard to hold it in but it was all useless. the minute hyunjin's arms wrapped around you, you let lose and unhinged. it was always like that.

because hyunjin was like an anchor to you. he was the anchor to steady your capsized boat in the storms. he didn't necessarily have to also be the lighthouse but for you, hyunjin being the anchor was more than enough right now.

"i'm not going to apologise for ignoring you, hwang," you mumble into his chest as hyunjin pats your head gently. you pull away after a second more and lean back against the table. you look down for a short while before turning back and grabbing the green bottle of soju, half empty, and chugging it down your esophagus.

hyunjin's eyes widen and he's about to stop you when you're all done and have slammed the bottle down on the table, cheeks heating up in the effect of what hyunjin would seem is the trick of the light.

hyunjin has seen you twice in the span of two weeks and both the times you were drunk, not to the level of passing out and waking up with a hangover — the two of you were not kids anymore for that — but still intoxicated enough to magnify every intense emotion you felt within you.

and if it were lust and validation the last time, this time it was the angst of putting up with a man trashy enough to now have the tag of your ex.

"can you get me—"

"use me."

"what?"

hyunjin bites his lower lip before tugging away at the dead skin in nervousness. he runs a hand through his black hair, on which your eyes unhelpfully linger for a second more than usual. he takes a step forward and repeats with strong affirmation, "use me, y/n. you're good at it. you're good at using people. that's what makes you an insanely good lawyer. you know who to keep close, who to get attached to and what to get from them. so i insist, use me as anything as you want. i'll be your best friend, your punch bag, your comfort, your drinking buddy, your anything. just—" he gulps, before locking his gaze with yours, eyes almost shining as if they held stars behind his irises. "just use me."

there is a small part in you that is deeply offended by the words that come from his mouth; by the words he so carelessly managed to throw around without bothering to think about how it would affect him. but the magnified, intense emotion to want to stop thinking, have the oxygen supply to your brain cut off for just a while to rid you of all the thoughts is higher.

"i—"

"do you not want to? of course i do understand—"

"shut up," you groan and the next thing your body prompts you to do is grab his wrist, pull him closer, turn around and pin him against your office desk as you kiss him, lips crashing against his and moving as if he was exactly what you needed after a rough day.

hyunjin doesn't exactly remember when and where things started going down the hill. you were his best friend. you are his best friend and yet best friends don't kiss. best friends don't fuck and for sure, best friends don't tell the other to use them only for them to knock the living lights out of them with a kiss that slips consciousness out of him.

hell be damned, he wasn't even sure if he was dreaming right now, but there was a raw emotion in the way you kissed him and in the way you leaned upwards slightly to curl your fingers in his hair and tug at it as you angled the kiss, lips moving against his in a separate emotion altogether.

best friends definitely do not do this.

you part your lips and feel hyunjin washing over like a wave of warmth, curling your toes, unfurling all your senses as the taste of him nearly silenced all thoughts. exactly as you wanted him and if his taste was what blocked everything, you needed more.

your whole body tingled, the feel of his frame leaning on yours further as his arms wrapped around yours feels nearly forbidden. you pull back, breath uneasy and gaze wavering at your best friend and you know he's what he is — insatiable as fuck. hyunjin pulls you in, claiming your mouth again, hungry and intense, until your knees almost give in. by the time you are aware of your own fingers, they had already slipped under his shirt, his skin smooth and radiating heat.

you pull back, chest rising frantically and you grip his white shirt tightly, yout hand soaking in the warmth of his body as you let go of his shirt and your fingers play with the edges of his pants.

"fuck my mouth," you say quickly, before kneeling down, unbuttoning his pants, looking upwards for a sign of approval and hyunjin's breath hitches. what ever would the porn he stars in account to when you are a whole fucking porn on legs?

"are you sure? i mean, i could give you an or—"

"later. stop overthinking everything," you sigh. "we'll do that later together. now can i or should i stop?"

hyunjin's hand moves down messily to unzip his pants and your lips curve upwards as you look at the man being reckless. he pulls his pants down in a rush along with his boxers only for his half erect cock to hit his stomach slightly before presenting itself to you.

when hyunjin fantasised about having your mouth wrapped around his cock earlier that day, he definitely didn't expect it this soon. but here you were, before him on your knees, taking his hardened dick in your hands as you spit on his shaft and move your hands over it slightly. it is probably the emotions and the feelings he holds for you that get him to harden and grow further in your grip and your eyes widen before you look away.

your thumb rubs against the frenum piercings — three consecutively to make a small ladder arrangement and you gasp. this must feel insane when he fucks your mouth — just as good as it did when he fucked you hard weeks back.

you look back up at him, hand moving around his shaft a little more rigidly and you tell him, "the black hair suits you better. fuck, you look like sex with that so, keep it," and you take his head into your mouth before hyunjin could say anything. he stutters, hand gripping the table tightly as you hollow your mouth and take him, tongue rolling against the metal balls on the underside of his cock.

"f-fuck," hyunjin gasps, head rolling back as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking on it lewdly. "your mouth feels so good, y/n, oh my—" and he moans so loud that you find yourself dampening your panties with your own arousal. hyunjin has pretty, pretty moans. it's deep, guttaral and makes you want to emit more of those from his pretty lips.

you take him out of your mouth, kissing the head, sucking at it with just your lips. you kiss him down his shaft, tongue lapping against the frenum piercings a little longer than you should and hyunjin knows by now for sure — you love his piercings.

"wow, you're getting harder," you gasp as you lick the precum from the head of his shaft before licking up from the base of his cock to the very top. you suck a little more of just his head, so delectable and angry, and hyunjin groans, hand finally leaving the table to hold your hair strongly.

"don't tease, y/n," and his voice is so strong that you can't help yourself but take him finally into your mouth, hollowing as much as you can as you slowly take him completely in your mouth and hyunjin releases a series of swear words laced with your name in the middle.

it's the sight of you in your formal shirt and pencil skirt, so prim and proper and yet you are taking him in your mouth, emitting such lewd sounds that it's pornographic. it's the way he feels you taking him in as deep as you can to get used to his length and girth. it's the way he see you slip your fingers secretly into your panties to rub your clit. it's the way you occasionally look at him from below, with tears in your eyes as you take him as deep as you can, choking on his cock.

if he were to pinpoint one, hyunjin could never. he would hold every single reason responsible for him to grip harder on your head and to thrust into your mouth just as you asked from him.

"you wanted this, right?" he groans, harshly, voice octaves deeper. "wanted my big fucking cock down your throat just to make you dumb and make you forget about everything. you wanted me to fuck your mouth so hard and to shoot my cum down your throat."

hyunjin's cock is heavy and warm on your tongue. he thrusts into your mouth and your right hand shovestwo fingers deep into your sopping core at the exact same time, trying to match his pace. the tears stream down from your face and all you can think is how good you feel being fucked like this, to have hyunjin's cock in your mouth. your jaw begins to ache from the constant task of fitting his fat girth into your mouth, but the feeling of him sliding against your tastebuds — the metal balls dragging against your wet tongue — and battering the back of your throat makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. hyunjin's grip on your hair is stronger to position your face and yet you release another moan, the vibrations rolling against his cock as his hips snaps forward to push his cock deeper.

the gags that leave your mouth is loud, the wet drippings leaking along with the sputtering afters of precum from the side of your mouth and staining your white shirt. your panties are soiled with how hard and fast you plunge your fingers in to bring you close.

"oh god," hyunjin's grip loosens on your hair for a bit before he continues thrusting into your mouth lightly. "god, i could fuck your mouth all night long and then fuck your cunt even harder." he grabs a fist full of your hair to hold you down before he goes back to thrusting harder into your mouth.

"eyes on me, baby. i'm going to shove my dick down your throat, okay?" he says. you quickly nod, your thumb rubbing your clit harshly and then he shoves you down his length and holds you still. you can feel his dick at the very back of your mouth as you choke on it, tears spilling messily down your face and ruining your makeup. hyunjin counts slowly, "five. four. three. two," and he slowly lets go, "one."

you gasp, breathing in as much air as you can as he takes his dick out, "that's my good girl. so good for me. now let me fuck your mouth again, oh good lord."

he holds your jaw with his other hand, pressing slightly in an attempt not to hurt you more as he holds your hair with the other. hyunjin angles your face up to look at him. your eyes are watery, makeup ruined and may the fury of the hells be with him, but he would sin and fornicate a twenty times more if this is the sight before him. you've ruined hyunjin for every other girl now and you don't even realise it.

hyunjin's hips begin to stutter soon, losing their tempo has he chased his orgasm. how ironic that he asked you to use him and yet here you were letting him use you in turn. his grip on your hair tightens as he feels it tightening in him. the room is filled with nothing but the sound of his balls slapping against your chin, muffled moans coming from your stuffed mouth and rapid panting from him.

hyunjin's breathing hitches and you remove your fingers from your cunt. it is sticky and coated with your arousal as you reach out to use the same hand to hold his balls. hyunjin gasps, holding your head a little stronger as you play with it when he fucks your mouth.

"fucking killing me," he grunts. "you're fucking killing me, y/n." you press your tongue flat as hyunjin finally drags his cock out. you gasp heavily, mouth sore and aching and vision blurry. however, all you can think is of rolling your numb tongue against his metal piercings and you do the very same, tugging at it occasionally.

“fuck, y/n!” he grunts out, trying to hold out a loud moan. his hips still surges forward to hit the bridge of your nose. you wrap your hands around his cock, feeling him become even more rigid in your grip. your rub his length as quick as you can till his dick quivers and hyunjin repeats under his breath, "i'm going to come, i'm going to come, i'm goi— fuck!"

hyunjin comes undone on your face. white spurts leaving his cock and coating your cheeks and your chin only to drop down onto your blouse and stain it further and it is a sight to behold. seeing you covered in his cum, almost like he was marking you, is enough to make him go hard again. your eyes are wide as he spurts his release on your face and the side of your neck and it's all so messy and hot that it has you leaving your mouth open unknowingly.

his brown eyes take in the sight of your swollen pink lips, cheeks tinged red and covered in tears and spit, and now his cum. hyunjin feels his cock twitch slightly as a pang of arousal shoots through his body again. but he has to ignore that. you are worn out and he needs to attend to your needs now that he knows you just gave him one mind blowing orgasm and in return hasn't had any.

hyunjin is about to lift you up when you hold his wrist, tongue jutting out to lick all the cum by the side of your lips, taking in as much as you can with your tongue and hyunjin gulps at the sight, his adam's apple bobbing oh so visibly.

"i have a proposition," you say. your voice almost sounds like something grating against the sand paper and hyunjin can't help but feel proud (as worried as he is). he listens to you as he squats down to maintain eye contact with you.

"oh?" he raises his eyebrows at you and you nod. hyunjin is trying his best to focus on you and your words and not how his come is on your face, marking you up to him as his.

"let's be friends with benefits."

and that was enough for him to focus back on your words. his feet is firm on the floor as he asks, "what?"

"it's a win-win situation, clearly. i need you for many reasons." you lift your hand up to count. "a) you're my best friend and i value this friendship a lot." hyunjin scoffs and you choose to ignore it as you continue, lifting another finger up, "b) you're the only one who has made me come and i need orgasms and validation. you give me both. we'll be exclusive and the minute you want to date someone, we break this off."

hyunjin feels his chest heavy. why are you making this so much harder? why are you jeopardizing everything? he doesn't know if this arrangement would be for the better or for the worse but after giving him the best orgasm he has had in a while and with all the oxytocin streaming in his blood veins, he knows his decision could account for all his miseries turning from unrequited love to rejection.

"and?"

"c) i haven't been able to explore much sexually, changbin being my first and everything and i want you to teach me as much as you know with your experience," you lift the third finger before closing them all and looking at him with nothing but hope.

"come again?"

"that's the plan," you laugh at your own joke to calm the uneasy tension in the room. "but it's true. that was the first time a guy has fucked my mouth or deep throated me and i fucking loved it."

hyunjin gulps visibly, his dick hardening and you look down at it. "you know you can say yes," you mumble as you desperately shift your gaze back at your best friend. "please? you could teach me how to come on my own."

"what's in it for me, y/n? every single point you said benefits you more than it does for me." hyunjin sits down, bringing his knees closer to him as he wraps his arms around it.

"you told me to use you. isn't that the whole point of using someone? i'll be benefited more than you will ever be. you can't go back on your words now."

hyunjin thinks the word heartless and yet again you were not. the proposition was seemingly harmless, but it sounded all like a big hazard signal to him because he has feelings for you that you are so clearly not aware of.

the thing with being so whipped for a person, to be so wrapped around their finger that all one can think of is them? you do anything for them, anything to make them happy. that's how stupid love makes one. that's how crazy love has made hyunjin, because as much as he is at a disadvantage, he can't help.

"alright. let's be friends with benefits."

and hyunjin knows that it is his heart that will break in the end. but at the very least, it will only be his.

[icequeenbae]

Desert Flower (m) Ch. 1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader x Baëkhyun

Characters: EXO and X-EXO (not all of them mentioned)

EXO vs X-EXO dynamics, complicated relationships, angsty, action, smut (as usual)

Warnings: sorta mingling with your ex’s ‘evil twin’, mentions of blood/ violence (nothing too graphic… I suppose), Y/N gets teary a lot(?), explicit content, rough sex, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~13.5k (full), ~3.7k (Chapter 1)

Summary: Baekhyun, your beloved boyfriend of three years, suddenly breaks up with you and disappears from the city in an attempt to protect you. But leaving you alone and clueless means trouble will surely find you. For it is easy to spot a flower in the desert.

Masterlist   >> One >> Two (m) >> Three (m) >> Four (fin)

Author’s Note: Yay, this is happening!!! My first BaekBaёk, oml I’m gonna-

Ok. I’ll admit right off the bat that I wouldn’t be posting this any time soon without my lovely beta @baekshoney​ 🖤 She’s the person I turn to when I think there’s a million little things I could’ve done better, because that’s what I always think. I had to give myself a cut-off date to finally give up editing this 😅 So, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could share your thoughts and opinions on this too. My asks, dms and comments are places where you’re always welcome! Now, let’s get into this!

Tags: @blahblahblah-boo @baeklightsx @wooya1224 @baekklove

Chapter 1. The beginning of the end 

It was all too sudden.

The words he’d said deafened you. Refusing to believe what you were hearing, you shook your head and took a step back, as if doing so could start the conversation you’d just had over. Or rewind the time and allow you to prevent the words from coming out of his mouth in the first place. But he was firm, unyielding in his stance.

‘I’m sorry,’ he repeated. ‘It’s my fault. I should’ve known better.’

Than to start this relationship, was what he meant. That he should have avoided getting in a relationship with you altogether, and breaking up with you would’ve never become an issue.

‘Why?’ You tried to speak, but your lower lip started to tremble, silencing you at once.

This was all wrong. It couldn’t have been true, what he was saying.

He licked his lips, looking away, hands forming tight fists at his sides as he tried to recollect himself and urge his body to stay frozen on the spot.

That did not work for long – the sight of you, so small, so stunned and defeated, with tears welling in your eyes while you tried to stifle them… He couldn’t. It was stupid of him to break his act so easily, but you were too precious to him to just leave you like this.

Sighing and cursing himself out in his mind, he took a stride towards you and gathered you tightly in his arms.

‘I am sorry, Y/N,’ he continued softly, hearing you hiccup in his unexpected embrace. ‘But I have to leave. We- I should’ve stayed away from you from the start. Forgive me for being so weak.’

You sobbed at his words, shaking your head stubbornly and clinging to his broad chest as an act of desperation.

‘I can come with you!’

‘No,’ he interrupted your crazy idea. ‘I’m leaving you behind. To keep you safe.’

‘Safe from what?’ You questioned, half-annoyed now.

He kept insisting that he wished to protect you, but how was leaving you all alone ensuring your security? And why would you even consider it, when you only felt safe while with him?

‘I cannot tell you. The more you know, the more dangerous it is.’

‘Baekhyunie, please,’ you wiped the tears and grabbed onto his vest as he moved to pull away. ‘You can’t just decide this on your own!’

‘Y/N,’ he took hold of your wrists, not removing them just yet. ‘I know it’s hard, and I never wanted to hurt you like this. But there’s nothing you can say that’ll change my mind. I’d rather break your heart than risk your life, so it’s not really a choice.’

He looked around as if to make sure you were not being watched, and then leaned in to place a farewell kiss on your temple – his favorite spot. You sniffled, realization of the inevitable setting in.

‘Just let me go, flower,’ his voice lowered to a whisper, and you sobbed at the pet name. ‘You’ll be better off without me, I promise.’

‘No,’ you protested as he freed himself from your grasp, and took a step back. ‘No, Baekhyun, don’t leave,’ you clawed at his forearm, trying to stop him. ‘We can deal with it together, we can think of something! I don’t want to be without you,’ you whimpered sorrowfully.

He shook his head, shying away from your touch, while you desperately tried to hold him back.

But you couldn’t. He gently peeled your hands off to walk away, and you missed the pained crease between his eyebrows when he turned his back on you to escape your apartment.

‘Please, don’t do this…’ You whispered, voice breaking in anguish. Just as your heart was.

Yet, Baekhyun kept walking. Leaving you to weep in the unwelcoming emptiness of your home.

Leaving you for good.

***

Your relationship with Baekhyun started almost three years ago.

Still new to university life, you found yourself in the midst of a soap opera worth of drama when a bunch of transfer students joined all at once, some even in the same year as you. All highly attractive, they usually hung out together and spent less time than needed socializing with the outside world.

Not that you cared too much – sure, the excitement going around was making you curious, but they looked too handsome, almost to the extent that you found it intimidating. Ironically, the most intimidating you found Baekhyun. His then long dark hair with strands of red and a mullet hairstyle, the sharp green eyes, the pierced eyebrow, and the lip ring that made him look like a very attractive hooligan... The piercings turned out to be just as fake as the eye color, which did not disappoint you at all.

Funny enough, you only got to know this bad boy because he took a liking to retreating to the campus library. Hiding from all of the attention, of course. While some members of his clique actually basked in it, he preferred to disappear to the remote aisles of the quiet space and read a book, or, more likely, sleep with one on his chest. You saw him like that often, since you were stuck in there yourself – essays for different classes were piling up rapidly. As a diligent student, you were determined to do well in your first year of university, so dragging yourself to the library to stay glued to your laptop was the best option.

Coincidentally, you also preferred to stay in the less lively spaces, as you tended to seek peace and quiet to focus on your assignments. Your attention span… wasn’t impressive, to say the least, so you did your best to avoid any distractions. However, you didn’t count on a certain sleep lover to be one of them.

It was not the first day you spent close enough to notice the tranquil expression he wore on his face as he was snoozing. It was, however, the first time he caught you staring mindlessly in his direction. Burning the deepest shade of red in your cheeks, you grabbed your books and quickly made yourself scarce, thanking heavens for the multiple aisles of books around. You walked around for ten minutes or so, actually placing your books back where they belonged and finding a secluded corner to check out what else was on the shelves. Squinting, you tried to read the name of the tome that had gotten your attention, and raised your arm to get it from the level that was clearly too high for you. Thankfully, someone reached over your head and helped you obtain the book. You turned around to say thank you but instead were suddenly pushed back into the shelf by the taller figure with neat red strands. Speechless, you only held your book close and gaped at him, as he leaned forward.

‘Ever heard about the cat killed by curiosity?’ He hummed, eyes piercing you from above.

You swallowed, knees getting weaker as you registered the fresh musky smell coming off of his brightly colored shirt.

To push your buttons, he decided to get even more scandalously close to you, arm holding onto the rack behind you to keep balance.

‘Nothing wrong with being curious!’ You jabbered. ‘In fact, if people preserved the curiosity they have as kids they would’ve had a much bigger learning capacity as adults.’

He huffed. You weren’t sure if he was shocked or amused, because your eyes looked anywhere but his face. In fact, they lowered enough to fix on your forearm, resting across his rib cage, and your fist pressing slightly into his pec to keep him at least at a minimal distance.

At this you gasped, eyes widening and returning to his face, only to catch an inquisitive spark in his retinas as he nudged the lip ring with his tongue. Sighing, he took a step back, finally allowing some space between you.

‘Can’t write a philosophy essay with this, little flower,’ he chuckled. ‘Or if you can… I’d be impressed.’

You looked down in confusion, understanding that the book you were holding was from a Botanics section. ‘The Oxford Book of Wild Flowers’, read the title.

But… How did he know about your philosophy assignment?

***

Only later had Baekhyun confessed that he had had an eye on you for a while by the time this incident took place, but the moment of your outburst was what got to him. When he looked down at your cornered form, holding a book to your chest so innocently, and keeping him away instinctively with one arm. He had to bite his tongue to prevent a smile from making its way onto his face. That was it for him, and even though he wanted to avoid you and keep interactions with you to an absolute minimum, he couldn’t help but find ways to draw your attention. Like that one time, when you walked out of the library because the loud noises from the outside made your concentration for the night crumble.

The source of that noise was, in fact, a certain convertible, blasting the music for the entire campus to hear. You would have come up to complain that your studying was cut short if you didn’t have perfect eyesight. It allowed you to see that there was a red-haired problem sat in the car, with a bare foot resting lazily against the panel. Ready to run the other way, you turned around, meeting a solid chest with your forehead. You discovered that it was a rather cheerful guy in the same year as you, Jongin, and the other one with him was Sehun. And those two stalled you long enough for Baekhyun to make an entrance.

It was the first time he tried asking you out. And got rejected.

However, as much as you wanted to take ownership of that and say that you were playing hard to get when you walked off and left him stunned by your refusal, that was not the case. This guy made your throat go dry at the mere sight of him! He was way too handsome, and he also looked kind of… well, he looked like he’d break your heart without thinking twice about it. And that you couldn’t allow.

But then again, good girls do tend to fall for bad boys. Or was he only pretending to be bad? You’d never heard anything that discredited him, except for the way he stared people down sometimes. That once happened to a fellow student in your class. After he sat next to you during lunch.

Actually, almost the entire week following that incident you had lunch alone because everyone kept making excuses to sit elsewhere. That was how you became friends with Jongin and Sehun. Having had a few classes together, you were more or less acquainted with each other, so you didn’t mind when Jongin suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a tray and asked you if they could join. He even had lunch with you when Sehun wasn’t around – you figured that it made Jongin even more chatty. So much so, that one day he leaned across the table to get slightly closer, and used his most clandestine voice on you.

‘You know, hyung could burn a hole in anyone next to you with his glare, but I’m immune to his ‘charms’, thankfully,’ he giggled and added, ‘Still, I think you should give him a chance. Baekhyun’s a good guy, and he’s kinda torn as it is. Asking you out was a pretty big step for him.’

Honestly, you had a hard time believing that. Baekhyun… was probably the kind of guy, who never even had to ask. You could look around and easily spot a dozen eyes that were fixed on him at this very moment. Why in the world would he want to date you, clearly not the ‘easy-going’ party type? He probably wanted to get into your pants just for sport, like the rest of the pretty boys.

‘Whatever you’re thinking, it’s far from the truth. Ugh, Junmyeon will kill me for this!’ Jongin cursed himself and continued, before you could ask. ‘Hyung looks rough around the edges, but he’s really a softie. Trust me on this.’

‘Are you his wingman or something?’ You snorted dubiously, getting a little timid from this discussion.

‘Ha, are you kidding? He’s gonna strangle me if he finds out. Like I said, he’s torn between staying away from you and persisting in his efforts to take you out. Just think about it,’ he ended with an attempted (but failed) wink.

As if to take away your chance to process the unexpected input, Jongin shoved Baekhyun in your direction the very next day. Disappearing from the cafeteria right after, of course. Envy his subtlety. But, apparently, what he said earlier had an effect, so you only nodded when a flustered figure asked for permission to sit with you. He looked quite different from the previous times you saw him up close – much less confident and intimidating. But he seemed sincere when he said he just wanted one chance.

And that was how your relationship picked up. It took a whirlwind course from the very beginning, and the hot summer before your second year of university was the most torturous time ever for the both of you. Still wary of getting played, you only trusted Baekhyun enough to get intimately close months and months into dating. And he was patient with you, going at a slow pace, letting you pull away whenever you wanted. Until you didn’t want to anymore.

That last leap of faith was a beginning in itself – a true beginning of you and Baekhyun. The final seal was broken, and you entrusted yourself fully to him, which he repaid by showering you in his affection and feelings that he himself had not come to acknowledge just then.

After a year together, you were not simply allowed into the inner circle, but also educated about the special abilities that Baekhyun and his friends had. You were first interrogated by their leader, Junmyeon, who wanted to make sure you had no ulterior motives and were not going to tell a living soul about them. He called it ‘a quick chat’ as he dragged you in a scarcely furnished room where he sat you down at the small metal table across from him. The leader asked you questions and tried reading your verbal and non-verbal cues, so it was clearly an interrogation. Junmyeon was pretty experienced in this, so he could instantly tell that you were harmless. And you also passed the test, answering the most ridiculous questions about Baekhyun – apparently, that was to make sure you were not ‘faking it’ – so, he accepted you into their family.

However, knowing too much was dangerous, so you only learned about their powers and how they came from the so-called EXO Planet when they were young (talk about dating an alien!), and that the organization they called ‘the Red’ amongst themselves wanted to hunt them down. They also used to be held hostage by these people – and that was just about as much you knew about the issue because Baekhyun kept you away from the ‘unnecessary details’. He only told you that they seemed to be hidden well in this town, surrounded by just enough people to blend in and disappear. And you worried, always, because you knew too little about the dangers surrounding the group, and even less about how you could contribute to their safety.

Baekhyun laughed when you once brought it up, finding your concern nothing but cute.

‘You don’t have to worry about it, flower. It’s my job to make sure you’re safe, not the other way around,’ he then said, playing with the curly ends of your hair.

You frowned at that. Why was it not your job to take care of him? If you could help, you wanted to help. But he always brushed you off, saying that the only thing you should do to help is staying out of trouble. Like that was a challenge – you either studied or hung out with him and his friends, not much room to stir trouble. The only other person you talked to regularly was your roommate, and she was also pretty harmless.

As time went by, you got closer to your own graduation, basically, one year left before you had to figure it out for yourself again. Your boyfriend was always supportive, but you couldn’t help but wonder how he imagined your future. He was always up to something but never shared it with you since it was ‘nothing for you to worry about’. Had he not shown you his actual abilities before, you would’ve certainly thought that it was a crazy lie he told you to cover up for some kind of illegal activity. In reality, some illegal activities were going on, especially since hacking and cracking was one of Minseok’s specialties (but mostly because they needed to keep their identities out of sight). Another reason why they didn’t all go to the same school when they arrived, and also why they changed their appearance ever so often. The lucky mullet was long gone by the time you had your first Christmas together, and you had had the pleasure of seeing him in multiple hair colors throughout almost three years of your relationship. Notably, the first dozen or so make-out sessions you had with him took place when he had just cut his hair and dyed it pitch black. And he still wore his fake lip ring at the time, which was an experience in itself. He did know how to use his mouth…

Admittedly, you were kind of used to being the object of the boys’ shameless teasing every time you hung out together. The way Baekhyun kept you close and fussed about everything was, apparently, atypical for their usually chill and humorous hyung. He was their second-in-command, after all, the genius behind the strategic planning of the group, and the mind that kept them hidden for so long in one place.

Because of you.

One of the boys had previously let it slip that they hadn’t lived anywhere for that long before, maybe not even for one full year. But this time Baekhyun was determined to stay for a while, now that he had an anchor.

But the day came. When he found out that they might’ve been compromised, he got scared. The way he’d never feared anything before. And he’d been through a lot, to put it mildly. Baekhyun could maintain a cold and sharp mind at all times, that was his thing, but not when it came to you. Once he figured out that there was a real chance, that they could’ve found the EXO hideout and, thus, could connect you to the boys, he couldn’t think straight. Overwhelmed by a sudden panic, he sought advice from the leader.

‘You know it’s not me who’s supposed to decide,’ Junmyeon sighed, looking at his disheveled second. ‘I told you a relationship wasn’t a good idea. I also think that keeping her close means putting her life in jeopardy.’

His words were cutting through Baekhyun as he paced the room, long fingers grasping his own hair.

‘But it still may be a safer option than leaving her here,’ the leader added, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘We need to relocate fast, and you have the ‘better of two evils’ situation on your hands.’

‘I know I should leave her,’ Baekhyun stopped in his tracks, turning his head to the leader. ‘But what if they already know, hyung?’

‘Minseok had every trace of her erased, not a single camera in town had a glimpse of her with you. They might have found our footprints in the sand, but those don’t necessarily lead to her. I suppose they should move on as soon as they come here and realize that we’re nowhere around.’

‘Most likely, but what if-’

‘They can very well catch up to us while we run. Like I said, there isn’t a right answer, but a choice. And I think that you’ve already made it when you should give her a voice, too,’ the leader pushed.

‘I-’ Baekhyun turned away to hide the glassy eyes from Junmyeon. ‘I have to give her a chance, hyung. I cannot sentence her to a lifetime of running and danger. And I know she’s silly enough to throw herself into it if she has a say in this.’

‘And if you’re wrong? You’re going to break her heart as a precaution?’

‘She won’t die from a broken heart. Can you imagine what they’d do to her if they find out?’

Junmyeon bit his lip. This time, the choice was completely out of his hands. He thought his second was making a mistake, but it was not his place to decide. Exhaling again, he nodded.

‘Tell her in the morning. We’re moving out as soon as the rain starts.’

>> Chapter 2

A/N: So, what do you think? This is more of an introductory chapter, I know, but it covers quite a lot of their relationship with Baek. You must be excited to see where this goes and when Baёk appears? Or if Baekhyun is coming back? Me too, me too 🙈

[theasstour]

𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐈𝐝𝐞𝐚.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟎.𝟑𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭

Tuesday, 16 January 2018

When Y/N perched her glasses on her nose the next morning, about to get out of bed, she heard the door next to hers open. What had started out as a decent morning was now tainted by last night’s chat with Harry in her room. She flopped down onto her bed, looking up at her ceiling as everything dawned on her again. Harry asked her to be his fuck buddy so she could make him become more comfortable in bed, and in return she would get free tattoos. They would have sex and Harry would get better with more experience, and once he felt ready to, he would pursue others again. That was the deal.

Y/N wanted to have sex with Harry, she had admitted that to herself, but if he wasn’t any good in bed… was it even worth it? Some men just didn’t know how to please anyone in bed, what if he was a lost cause? She knew Harry, he wouldn’t have asked her if he wasn’t truly insecure about his performance in bed. It just felt like such an odd favour to be asking someone. Did he even find her attractive? Or did he just ask her because he knew she’d tell him like it is if he fucked up? Or because they had sex before and it was just easiest to ask her?

She heard something against her carpeted floor, a quiet sound she would not have heard if she hadn’t closed her windows at 4am because of a drunken gang of men making their way home from the pub. Sitting up in bed, she looked at her floor, not seeing anything until her eyes landed on the small slit between her floor and the door. A note.

She got up from her bed, reaching for the dressing gown that hung over her desk chair. She reached for it as she heard footsteps away from her door, hearing them leave down the stairs and to the kitchen. Though it had been years since she had seen or read his writing, it still felt as familiar to her as the inside of her home in Nottingham.

I’m sorry about last night, can we talk? H x

Right now, she wanted nothing less than to talk to Harry. But, taking a look at her phone, she recognised the date, saw a text from Chloe, and knew that avoiding Harry would be next to impossible. In about two hours, Chloe would come to their flat on Orsman Road so Mason and Harry could show her how to play the PlayStation. It would look stupid if Y/N wasn’t in the room with them, keeping them company. After all, she was the one that had made this meeting happen, the tie that linked Chloe to Mason and Harry in the first place. Who knew how awkward it would be if she wasn’t there.

She got her dressing gown off, put on some knickers and a bra, then rummaged through her drawers for something to wear. She settled on a black pleated mini skirt with fishnets underneath – along with shorts to keep the chafing away – and an oversized long-sleeve jumper in acid wash black and grey. The print on it was of Back to the Future, one of the only films Y/N managed to sit through. She didn’t have the attention span to sit for hours on end to watch a film, she much preferred series where she could just watch an episode and then pause. She didn’t have the attention span for films.

Tucking the front of the jumper into her skirt, Y/N studied herself in her mirror, smiling at the image. Today might bring on some very awkward moments, but at least she would look good.

She walked over to her door, putting her ear against it to listen for movements downstairs. Last thing she wanted to do was make herself some breakfast while Harry was watching her like a hawk, trying to read her mind to figure out what she was thinking. He was one of the most impatient people she knew, always eager to get on with whatever he wanted to do, always wanting an answer right away. Though she knew having sex with Harry, directing him, and giving him more confidence in the bedroom wouldn’t be a chore, it would probably be a lot of fun. What was stopping her was that, if she wanted to have sex, she expected to have good sex. Especially if she were going to have sex with this person multiple times. If this happened, she just had to hope Harry took her seriously and did what he could to better his lack of giving properly in bed.

She looked down at the note in her hand, reading it over again as she heard the front door downstairs open and then close again. Knowing that Mason would wake up five minutes before Chloe arrived and that Nathan would likely sing along to What is This Feeling? from Wicked on his way downstairs, the person that just left had to be Harry. Y/N therefore made her way downstairs and made her breakfast, quickly walking back upstairs so she could eat her breakfast in peace. While listening to Duda Beat, Y/N sat in her bed eating, wiggling her toes in her fishnets, drifting to a place far away from the flat in Hackney.

Music was a huge part of Y/N’s life, always had been. It felt weird if her room was silent or if she was walking someplace on her own without the company of an artist singing into her ears. Nathan would often get annoyed with her about how many songs she already knew when he just found them, or how she always managed to know the songs playing at all the clubs they were at. Music was one of the things she truly treasured in life, something that made her feel safe if the world around her was too quiet or too loud.

While deep in her own thoughts, Y/N didn’t hear the front door open and closing again. She thought she heard some whistling out in the corridor, but didn’t pay much attention to it until there was a knocking at someone else’s door. Just barely, she turned her music down to listen to what was going on.

“Mase?” Harry said, knocking again. “You up, mate?”

Mason must have answered somehow because Harry opened his door and walked in. She didn’t hear what happened next, just some muffled talking as Harry stood inside a still sleepy Mason’s room. Harry’s small laughter at something Mason said emanated from the room, and two seconds later, he was closing the door and walking over to the room opposite to Mason’s, knocking three times on there as well.

“Nath?”

“Come in, best friend!” Nathan sang and Harry opened the door not even a second later.

“Hiya, thought you’d need this one,” Harry said, Y/N could hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh, you absolute lifesaver,” Nathan said, gasping a little as he took whatever Harry was offering him.

“First week back at uni, thought it’d lighten the mood.”

“Harry, you’re a dream,” Nathan complimented, making Y/N roll her eyes. That compliment would easily get to Harry’s head and he’d be all cocky the rest of the day.

“I know, but thanks for the reminder,” Harry said, steps could be heard next.

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Nathan commented, and Y/N knew they were talking about her. The door to Nathan’s room closed.

Next thing Y/N knew, three knocks sounded at her door. She stilled, mid-chew. Looking at her door, she suddenly started searching around her as if anything inside her room would help her escape the inevitable awkward moment that was about to ensue.

“Y/N?” Harry said, knocking again.

She got up from her bed, carefully putting her plate down on her desk as she continued to look around her room. Nothing could save her, so at least her room had to look somewhat presentable.

“Y/N, I know you’re up. I can hear your music.”

Running a hand over her make-up free face, Y/N walked over to her door. She opened it, seeing Harry leaned against her doorframe on the other side, the nearness of him making her take a small step backward. He was wearing a brown knitted oversized rib jumper over loose black jeans, a pair of black leather shoes with a chunky sole that he had forgotten to take off at the front door along with his black cord double breasted trench coat. The outfit was cosy and so effortlessly attractive in a soft sort of way. Admitting that to herself made Y/N infuriated. This man was only getting harder to resist by the second.

Y/N was too caught up in Harry’s outfit to see what he was holding. Once he saw her, he did the same as her, eyes scanning her entire body to take her in properly. His eyes lingered on her legs where her bare skin was exposed through her fishnets. His Adam’s apple bobbed and he cleared his throat as he stood upright again, a slight redness appearing in his cheeks.

“Thirsty?” he asked.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him, but then she caught sight of what was in his hands. A cup carrier where two out of four coffees were taken, two left. One for Harry, one for Y/N. There was a normal hot-drink cup and a plastic cup for cold drinks.

“Iced latte, right?” Harry asked, holding the carrier out for Y/N to take her coffee. “That’s what you had when you popped by Footprint, at least.”

Y/N blinked. “How’d you know?”

Harry shrugged, giving her a smile.

Y/N took the iced latte, recognising that it was a different cup to the ones you normally got at Starbucks, Costa, or Caffé Nero. No, this was from one of those smaller cafés that he liked popping by. She was sure she would like it regardless, maybe even prefer it to the chain stores.

“Thank you,” she said, taken aback by Harry’s gesture. He had really gone out of his way to buy the entire flat a morning coffee.

“I owed you one,” Harry smiled.

“Yes, you did,” Y/N said, but the both of them could tell she didn’t mean it one bit. Silence settled over them, Y/N kept her eyes on the coffee as she felt Harry glance at her, not willing her to look up but just trying to find his words as if there was something he wanted to say, but didn’t know how to. Slowly, she glanced back up at him through her lashes, looking between his eyes as his lips parted.

“Did you get my note?”

Y/N felt her heart leap out of her chest. “Yes.”

“Can we? Talk?”

“Yes, but I’m… I need to eat my breakfast.”

“Oh, okay. Send me a text-“

“-Thank you so much for the coffee, Harry. Truly.” And then she closed her door, standing there with one hand on the doorknob and the other holding the iced latte Harry had just given her. It took a few seconds before she could hear Harry making his way back downstairs, most likely to take his coat and boots off, and maybe to make himself something to eat if he hadn’t done exactly that at the café he had just been to. The door to Mason’s room opened and Y/N heard him yawn as he started down the stairs, greeting Harry in his usual rumbling voice.

Y/N sat back down on her bed, looking down on the iced latte in her hands. It meant nothing. He had done the exact same thing for Mason and Nathan. But… something about someone going out of their way to buy you a coffee without you even needing to ask for it, was a level of intimate Y/N wasn’t sure she had reached with anyone before. This just told her that he cared for her; cared for her like he would care for Mason and Nathan. That thought warmed Y/N, and she was left just looking at the iced latte for another minute or two before she actually brought it up to her lips to drink it. She had been right before, she liked this one much better than the one she usually got at Costa.

An hour or two later, Chloe sent Y/N a text to tell her she was on her way, and 30 minutes after that, the doorbell rang. Y/N opened the door to her room and walked down the stairs just as Harry stood in the doorway of his room, watching Y/N fly past him to get to the door. As curious as she was to peek inside Harry’s room, she would have to do that another time.

“Hello?” Y/N said into the phone.

“Hiya, babe,” Chloe called on the other end, sounding as chipper as always.

“Walk up the steps, it’s the first door on the right,” Y/N explained before buzzing Chloe in. To make it easier, Y/N opened the door and waited there for her mate in the doorway, even though the cold air from the outside corridor seeped into the flat and made goosebumps appear up and down her exposed legs.

“Hi,” Chloe grinned as she walked up the steps, hugging Y/N once she reached the flat. “And hello, Harry, you alright?”

Y/N whipped around to see Harry standing there, leaning against the wall just beside the kitchen entrance. His hands were shoved into his jean pockets and a wry smile came across his lips, nodding at Chloe as she made her way inside.

“Ready to play some PlayStation?” he asked.

“Oh, more than ready,” Chloe grinned, taking her jacket off and hanging it on Y/N’s hanger. “I’m so tired of everyone playing the PlayStation in my flat and when I ask if they can show me how to play, they say they can’t be asked.” She rolled her eyes. “So, I’m very thankful for you and Mason.”

“Think Mason’s gonna be the main lecturer of this one,” Harry said. “I’m not nearly as good as he is.”

“I hope he’s a good teacher, then.”

“Only time will show,” Mason said as he came downstairs, wearing a pair of rugby shorts and a zip-up hoodie. “Alright?” he asked, leading the way into the living room.

“Splendid now,” Chloe grinned, following Mason into the living room. As she walked past Harry, Harry’s eyes fell on Y/N who stood put, trying to ignore the intensity of Harry’s glance. She knew he wanted to say something so she walked straight past him and after the other’s, not wishing to take the discussion Harry so clearly wanted to take at that very moment. Y/N sat down by the round dining table, expecting Harry to take the seat next to hers. For some reason, that made her sweat. She was suddenly nervous for some reason.

“Harry,” Chloe chimed. “You need to sit beside me in case Mason confuses me.”

“I’m not gonna confuse you,” Mason said.

“No, but in case I need another explanation for things, you know,” Chloe explained, smiling over at Harry. Y/N could sense Harry’s gaze on her, and then the free chair beside her, before he met Chloe’s eyes again.

“Alright,” he said, walking over to sit down on the couch to Chloe’s right, the closest of the three to Y/N who sat alone by the dining table. Mason turned the telly on and then started getting the PlayStation going, giving Chloe a console while he brought his own as he sat down beside her. Chloe’s eyes instantly fell to Mason’s bare thigh, meeting Y/N’s eyes with a smirk before she focused on the television in front of her.

“Y/N,” Harry said, scooting a little to the side. “You can come sit here, if you’d like. You could game with us.”

“No, I’m alright.”

Harry put his hand on the sofa. “If you-“

“-Hello, whores,” Nathan said as he walked down the stairs and into the kitchen in his purple kimono. The white and orange lilies on it glinted in the pale sunbeams that shone through the living room window. He took the free chair beside Y/N and brought it over to the window, plopped do in it while whipping his phone out from somewhere. Harry sat back in the spot he reserved for Y/N, looking over at her as he sat back against the couch, placing his arm on the arm rest. Y/N’s eyes instantly fell onto his hand and the veins that ran from his knuckles to his wrist, studying the way he balled his hand into a fist before he stretched his fingers. She felt herself salivate. Mentally punching herself out of her trance, Y/N swallowed and looked away from Harry. He must have noticed her staring.

“Oh, I love that, Nate,” Chloe grinned.

“Aw, thanks, darling,” he said, and Y/N could see how greatly he appreciated the compliment. After all, the people he lived with rarely gave him any of them.

“Is this just a normal morning for you lot?” Chloe asked, looking around at all of them.

“I mean,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t think we have a status quo or anything. Anything’s normal if nothing’s odd.”

“Wow,” Nathan said. “Ground-breaking.”

Chloe laughed. “Aw, I wished I lived in your flat. This seems like so much fun compared to my one in minging Dinwiddy.”

“Have you, Thian, and Hayden started looking for places?” Y/N asked.

“Thian’s found a flat, but it’s all the way in Brixton.” She grimaced. “That’s ages away, even by tube.”

“We found this place in December our first year,” Nathan said. “Harry’s mum knew someone who knew someone, and here we are. Pretty decent for London, even though it’s cramped.”

“Yeah, I want all the credit for this,” Harry grinned, looking as smug as always. “I’m the best.”

“That’s subjective,” Y/N scoffed, making Harry look over at her and Chloe laugh again. She felt Harry’s gaze linger on her, but she refused to look back at him, knowing that it would be hard to glance away.

“Alright, Chloe,” Mason started. “We’ll play GTA, is that alright? It’s what we usually play.”

“Anything’s fine by me,” Chloe said.

For some reason, Y/N’s brain forgot what she had just told herself a few seconds prior, because her eyes locked with Harry’s, and suddenly her heart was doing something funny. It halted for a second, then began back up again. Last night’s conversation played in Y/N’s head as well as the note he had left under her door before he went out for breakfast that morning. The proposal had not left her alone for a single second, she was sure she had dreamt of it but didn’t remember the exact dream just then.

Looking away, her eyes landed on the telly before she glanced over at Nathan who sat with one foot slung over the other. His gaze was already on Y/N, a slight crease between his brows as he scanned Harry for two seconds, then back at Y/N again. She quickly looked away, pretending like nothing was happening, as if she hadn’t just been sharing a little-too-long look with Harry that obviously meant something. In the corner of her eye, Y/N could see Nathan leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knee with his phone in one hand, looking between Harry and Y/N with an almost knowing look that brought Y/N’s pulse up dangerously high. Mason was too busy teaching Chloe about the PlayStation and Chloe was too distracted by both Mason and Harry to even recognise something was going on beyond the couch they were sat on.

Y/N did not spare another look at Harry even though she could feel him staring at her, chewing on his bottom lip and clearly wanting her to glance back at him. Y/N knew Nathan was staring between them, trying to piece together what was going on, and she was not going to give him the satisfaction of finding out on his own. First she wanted to do that herself, to figure out what was going on and how they would go forth without Nathan putting his nose in business that was not his to meddle in. Y/N had a hard time breathing under Harry’s stare and Nathan making up conspiracy theories right across from her while Chloe and Mason were shooting and killing people on the telly. This was going to be a long morning.

Friday, 18 January 2018

The first Critical Reading 2 lecture of the semester had been slow. Their professor, Yvonne, had stood at the front of the lecture hall with her hands behind her back, walking up and down in front of her PowerPoint that was displayed on the wall behind her, and talked about The Yellow Wallpaper. In her mid-40s, her dark hair came to her shoulders and her ordinary green jumper over blue jeans, made her look like anyone else. Maybe that was why Y/N liked her lectures so much; she was just an ordinary woman. Chloe had fallen asleep during the lecture, resting her head on Annalise’s shoulder, while Hayden had been texting a bloke on Tinder, and only Thian and Y/N were paying any proper attention out of the five of them. Maybe the three others didn’t find this fascinating, but Y/N certainly did.

“Women were expected to be subordinate to their husbands and completely obedient, as well as take on strictly domestic roles inside the home,” Yvonne said at the front of the lecture hall. “Upper middle-class women, like the narrator, may go for long periods of time without even leaving the home. The story reveals that this arrangement had the effect of committing women to a state of naïveté, dependence, and ignorance.”

Y/N wrote down keywords in her notebook.

“John, the narrator’s husband, assumes he has the right to determine what’s best for his wife, and this authority is never questioned. He belittles her concerns, both concrete and the ones that arise as a result of her depression, and is said to brush her off and laugh at her when she speaks. He makes all the decisions about both of their lives.”

Y/N glanced up at Yvonne again.

“As such, she has no say in anything in her life, including her own health, and finds herself unable to even protest. The author, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, like many others, clearly disagreed with this state of things, and aimed to show the detrimental effect that came to women as a result of their lack of autonomy.”

Yvonne walked over to the computer, changing the slide of her PowerPoint and taking a moment to look up at it before she turned to the lecture hall again. It was just a picture of some old, decaying yellow wallpaper.

“The yellow wallpaper,” she started, clapping her hands together. “This is, of course, the most important symbol in the story. The narrator is immediately fascinated and disgusted by the yellow wallpaper, and her understanding and interpretation fluctuates and intensifies throughout the story.”

Thian flipped through the Norton Anthology that he had brought, finger skimming over The Yellow Wallpaper that was printed out on the page he had put an orange sticky note to so he could find and come back to it.

“The narrator, because she doesn’t have anything else to think about or other mental stimulation, being kept in that attic by her husband, turns to the yellow wallpaper as something to analyse and interpret. The pattern eventually comes into focus as bars, and then she sees a woman inside the pattern. This represents feeling trapped, as you may have already figured out.” Yvonne put her hands out as she continued to speak. “At the end of the story, the narrator believes that the woman has come out of the wallpaper. This indicates that the narrator has finally merged fully into her psychosis, and become one with the house and domesticated disconnect. She has become a mad woman.”

Y/N furrowed her brows, putting her pen down as she turned all her attention on Yvonne. Something about those last three words made her ears perk up.

“In Gothic literature, the mad woman hails from the dark side of Jane Eyre. Mr Rochester’s first wife, who barely appears in the text, but pops up only to terrify sweet Jane. The first wife is violently insane, and is kept away from the world, the badge of shame in Rochester’s life,” Yvonne said. “Her irrational behaviour somehow justifies him almost becoming a polygamist when he attempts to marry Jane. Only after Bertha, his mad wife, literally burns Rochester’s estate to the ground, dying in the process, are the lovebirds free to pursue their happy ending. Mad women are so inconvenient while they’re still alive.”

After the lecture, Y/N walked to her next seminar by herself. Chloe and Annalise were in a seminar together, while Thian and Hayden were in another one. On one hand, Y/N was lucky to be part of the seminar right after the lecture, which meant she could go do whatever she pleased afterwards without waiting around to be in the second seminar group, but on another hand, she wanted to be with her friends. That was all she managed to think about as she made her way down the corridor, walking past a horde of other students that were on their way to their lectures and seminars.

The corridors were of white concrete, the walls in between doors to lecture halls, seminar rooms, or exits to the either one of the quads either decorated with paintings of previous headmasters or headmistresses, or brochures or papers about different societies or sports events. In the past, there had been pictures up on the walls of old prime ministers, but the frames had always been taken down by students, or some wrote on the glass that protected the paintings, all kinds of vile words that had, in the end, resulted in the paintings being taken down, much to the students’ delight. The paintings of Winston Churchill and Margaret Thatcher had been the ones to endure the worst of it, something Y/N wished she could have contributed with.

The ceiling high above was adorned with blue squares, lamps hanging down from some of them, while others were decorated in fine details that Y/N with her shitty eyesight couldn’t make out. The walks from the lecture hall 19 to seminar room 0-07 took about five minutes. She walked from seeing the North Quad out the windows to her left, to seeing the corridor that connected the two sides of the buildings together at the middle, to seeing the South Quad outside. Y/N hated summer, but she couldn’t wait for spring to arrive so she could spend her time between lectures and seminars outside in either one of the quads.

Y/N walked straight in when she arrived at seminar room 0-07. The seminar room was rather modern, with white walls, white ceiling, and grey carpeted floor, a blackboard hung on one wall, and a big round table in the middle of the room for everyone to be seated around. The chairs were a bright green, and the cushions that came with them matched, something that was supposed to brighten the room, but the chairs themselves were horrible to sit in. Especially for hours on end. Yvonne was already there, giving Y/N a broad smile and urging her to sit down with a warm, “welcome,” that made Y/N absolutely want to take a seat. However, as she made her way over to the table the ten people in the seminar group would be sitting around, Y/N’s eyes fell on a familiar face.

“Isla,” Y/N said, making the girl with the brown bushy hair who had her nose buried deep in the Norton Anthology in front of her, look up rather quickly at the sound of her name. An instant and warm feeling spread out from Y/N’s belly and all throughout her body, making her tingle with pure happiness.

“Y/N,” Isla said back, sitting up straighter.

Y/N let go of a slight chuckle before she walked over, sitting down beside her work friend. “I didn’t know you did English Lit.”

“I do.”

“I’ve never seen you in any of our lectures,” Y/N said.

“No, I’m usually in the very back or by one of the walls,” Isla explained. “I guess I just blend in with my surroundings.”

“Like a chameleon,” Y/N smiled, putting her notebook and Norton Anthology down on the table as well. “This is so bizarre. I didn’t know you even went to Helmond.”

“I’ve seen you at the front of the lectures with your friends, I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Oh, hun, you could never disturb me,” Y/N assured, wanting to give Isla’s shoulder a squeeze but unsure if her mate would appreciate that touch or not. “This made my day. I’ve had a… week, to put it that way, and this just made my day.”

Isla smiled, looking back down at the book in front of her.

“How’d you find the lecture?” Y/N asked.

“It was interesting. I really liked The Yellow Wallpaper, so it was easy to follow along,” Isla answered as another student entered the seminar room, two others following right after.

“Right? I love anything gothic.”

“No wonder, all you wear is black.”

Y/N gasped, putting a hand to her chest as her eyes grew wide, a grin appearing on her face before she laughed. Isla’s own face broke out into a smile before her neck grew red, she must have been anxious of how Y/N would react to her taking the piss. Trying not to make too much noise so the few people who had showed up so far wouldn’t stare at them like they were mad, the two girls put their hands in front of their mouths to stifle their laughter.

“You damn near chopped my head off, right there. Oh, my word,” Y/N laughed, Isla laughing with her. “Black is a good colour to wear. It’s an anonymous colour.”

“For someone so extroverted, it’s interesting that you want to remain somewhat anonymous,” Isla noted.

Y/N shrugged. “It’s become a habit.”

Isla furrowed her brows at that.

“Hey, are you doing anything later tonight?” Y/N asked.

Isla brought her pen up to her chin, tapping it a few times against her chin dimple. “That depends.”

Y/N smiled. “Would you want to come to this Uno Society that my mate’s hosting?”

The second the words were out of Y/N’s mouth, she could see a sort of light die out in Isla’s eyes. Though she already knew the answer, she was disappointed when Isla uttered a small, “I’ve got plans, I think.”

The words hadn’t been voiced, but they both knew Isla was lying. Y/N did not mind, though. She knew that some people’s social batteries only lasted so long, and that this might be enough socialising for Isla to last her a whole week, so she did not press the issue and Isla again. If coming to the Uno Society was something outside of Isla’s comfort zone, then Y/N would not pressure her into coming.

“That’s fine,” Y/N said, giving Isla a smile. “When’re you working next?”

Isla seemed grateful for the change in conversation topic, but just before she got to answer, Yvonne sat down by the table, looking around at each one of the students that were sat in each seat. She opened her notes, clearing her throat so that all the small chatter around the table would die out completely.

“The mad woman,” Yvonne started, smiling as she made eye contact with a few of her students. “Where does the madness come from? Is it already present in the character from birth? Or does it develop, or at least intensify, due to isolation imposed by men?” she asked, looking around the table at the students surrounding it. “Anyone?”

1 Night by Charli XCX and Mura Masa played over the speakers as Y/N walked through the door and into another seminar room later that same day. She mouthed an excuse at Hayden before she glanced around, looking for someplace to sit down. Her original table was already occupied by just enough people so she would have to find another group to join this time around. The idea of disturbing someone in the middle of a game wasn’t appealing, it was frankly something that made her heart beat a little too fast. But, Y/N knew she had to do it unless she just wanted to stand around and look like a proper twit. So, after a quick sweep of the room, Y/N settled on the table in the far corner. She walked over to it, quickly realising that she knew a few of those seated around it.

“Hi,” Y/N smiled as she came over, taking the seat next to Mason.

“Oh,” he smiled back. “Alright?”

“Can I join your next round?” she asked, looking from Mason, to Kai, to the other three men seated around the table.

“Yeah, of course,” Mason said. “Just be patient, not too long since we started this one.”

“Of course,” Y/N smiled, sitting back in her chair and taking another quick look around the room. Studying each person on each table.

“Why’re you late, then?” Mason asked, nudging Y/N so she would know he was talking to her.

“Made some feijão tropeiro for dinner, had a nap, woke up ten minutes before I had to be here ‘cause my alarm didn’t go off. Phone’s dead,” Y/N explained. “Took the tube, but you know how all public transit’s always so slow when you need it to hurry along.”

Mason smiled. “Feels like that, doesn’t it?”

“Yet to see you at The Stag’s Head again, Y/N,” Kai said, grinning from ear to ear.

“She’s not as keen on a pint as I usually am,” Mason retorted.

“No, just haven’t had the time. I’ll have to pop by sometime soon.”

“Yeah, tag along with Mase, Nath, and H,” Kai continued. “H told me your fave cocktail’s Sex on the Beach. I’ll make you that if you’re not too keen on a pint. Actually,” Kai grinned, holding his hand out. “I might be the best bartender you’ll ever meet. My hands – these guys –“ He held up his other hand as well. “-Are the hands of God.”

“Pack it up, dicksplat,” Mason said, motioning for Kai to continue his round.

Kai howled, his laughter booming through the seminar room. Though deep and rumbling, Kai’s laughter was infectious and Y/N found herself smiling at him as he came down from his high, shaking his head and looking down at his cards. He dealt his round, glancing back over at Y/N.

“Did you know Mason’s funny?” Kai asked. “Mason, you can be funny sometimes.”

“You say that as if it shocks you. You literally laugh at me every single day.”

“Someone needs to laugh at you or else you’d cry yourself to sleep.”

Mason laughed at Kai, glancing down at his cards to focus on them for now. Y/N took this moment to look around her again, studying each face at each table.

“He’s not here,” Mason said, making Y/N’s head whip around in his direction.

“What?”

“Harry,” he elaborated. “He’s not here.”

Y/N furrowed her brows, crossing her arms over her chest as she watched Mason play for another moment. “I wasn’t looking for him.”

“It’s okay if you were.”

“It’d be weird if I was.”

“What’s going on with you and Harry?” Kai asked, a slight lift to his bushy brows as his eyes darted between Y/N and Mason.

“Absolutely nothing,” Y/N answered, hoping they didn’t notice her lying in the way she refused to meet their eyes. “I simply started thinking about him and thought I’d see if he was here.”

“So, you were checking to see if he was here,” Mason smirked.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Men are so annoying.”

“Is something going on?” Kai asked again.

“You know, I could’ve just told you where he is right off the bat if you had just asked me about him,” Mason said.

“I don’t care where he is.”

“Are you and Harry a thing?” Kai asked for the millionth time.

“You’re nosier than Harry,” Y/N retorted, rolling her eyes at Kai who only laughed again. She met Mason’s eyes. “I don’t care where he is.”

Mason grinned. “He’s at work.”

Of fucking course he is, Y/N thought to herself, looking away from Mason again as his smirk widened. Y/N zoned out as the boys around the table continued to play Uno, only sometimes participating in whatever was going on when one of them shouted something or they laughed. Her thoughts were only on the proposal Harry had come with, one that intrigued Y/N more and more with each passing day. It had been four days since he asked her to help him get confident in bed and in return he would give her free tattoos.

Free tattoos. If she was getting free tattoos and good sex in the end, then the deal seemed pretty decent. After all, there were quite a few tattoos she wanted, most of them being those that Marcela had on her body, and then numerous she wanted to get herself. If she actually went through with this, then she was going to milk it for what it was worth. She was going to be proper tattooed up, looking so hot that it would be hard for her to keep her hands off herself.

It didn’t take too long until they were about to start another round, so Y/N joined in, playing until they were done a little over an hour later. When it’s time for them to pack up, Y/N walked over to her mates to apologise for coming in a bit late, something Hayden did not mind in the slightest. While that was happening, Nathan, Mase, and Kai were chatting by the exit door, waiting for Y/N to catch up so they could start on their way back to the flat and The Stag’s Head. In between talking to her friends, Y/N glanced over at them to make sure they hadn’t left yet, and at one point, she saw Nathan shake his head and raised his brows at Mason who only nodded his head in affirmation of what he had just said. Nathan looked back over at Y/N who only frowned at him, unsure what he was trying to tell her.

The walk back to the flat was slow, Mason stopping by a chippy on the way so he could get himself some dinner. He insisted on stopping if he wanted to get a proper bite in of his fish or chips, something that ultimately made Kai late for his shift at Stag’s Head. Mason was chill about it as always, reassuring Kai that his boss wouldn’t mind, he hadn’t shoved Harry’s head through a wall when he came in late while he worked there, he would surely not do that to Kai.

“Look at the size of ya,” Mason reasoned, only making Kai laugh, though Y/N could sense the muscle man was too stressed to put his entire heart into it.

The entire way back to Orsman Street, Nathan barely said a word. To Y/N, at least. He did not mind talking to Kai or Mason, but he hadn’t paid Y/N as much attention as he usually did, something that made her draw the conclusion that something was up. She didn’t try to press him about it while they were walking, not wanting to do it in front of the two others who obviously had nothing to do with this.

They said goodbye once they reached the flat, watching as Kai ran into The Stag’s Head and through the crowd of people that had already gathered in the pub. Y/N pulled her phone out of her purse, wanting to check the time, only to remember again that it had died earlier and she had forgotten to charge it afterwards. She would just have to charge it when she got to her room.

Mason opened the doors for everyone, taking his shoes off while still eating his fish and chips, strolling up to his room to finish it in there before probably having a shower. Y/N followed first after him, Nathan quick on her heels and, for some odd reason, breathing down her neck. She glanced over her shoulder at him, giving him a glare before she continued on her way up the stairs, but Nathan only glared back at her, walking just as close behind her as he had done since they got back to the flat.

Y/N opened the door to her room, sitting down by her desk and putting her phone down to charge as Nathan slammed his hands against the frames on either side of her door. Y/N jumped, looking over at Nathan whose expression looked absolutely manic.

“Right,” he started, looking over his shoulder to make sure the door to Mason’s room was closed before he glanced back at Y/N. In the meantime, she opened her laptop, keeping her eyes on Nathan. “I’ve been keeping my mouth shut about this for too long.”

She blinked. “What’s up?”

“What is going on with you and Harry?” Nathan hissed, brown eyes boring into Y/N’s soul.

She just blinked some more, staring at Nathan while she put two and two together. Mason must have snitched; he must have told Nathan while they were talking after Uno that Y/N had been looking after Harry. With that information and the staring – on Harry’s part – earlier that week, Nathan had put two and two together. That was why he was fuming and hadn’t bothered to give Y/N any sort of attention on their way back from uni.

“’Cause I can tell something’s been up. First he won’t stop staring at you when Chloe’s over, and now you go asking around about him at Uno.”

“I didn’t go asking around,” Y/N said, narrowing her eyes at him.

“You must really think I’m stupid,” Nathan retorted, raising his eyebrows at her, bobbing his head along as he spoke, something he usually did when he tried to get a point across.

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She started shaking her leg.

“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. What’s happened between you and Harry?”

“Nothing, Nath. We’re just friends.”

Nathan scoffed. “That’s the most rubbish thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Weird when that’s the truth.”

“I know something’s up,” he said, pointing a threatening finger at her.

Y/N sighed just as something like the terrace door banging shut sounded from downstairs. “Listen, you forced me to live with him. I’m just making the best of the situation you’ve put me in. I’m just making nice.”

“By sucking his dick?”

“That’s derogatory, Nathan.”

Nathan bowed his head lower, eye almost twitching with the intensity in which he was staring her down. “Something can’t not be up. My intuition is telling me something’s going on.”

Y/N let out a dry laugh. “Your intuition is doing you dirty then.”

Footsteps up the stairs had Nathan stop just as he was about to retort back, but he glanced over his shoulder instead, Y/N peering out from between Nathan and the doorframe. His curls appeared first, and then he was looking over at them, giving them that wry smile that had his right dimple deepen against his cheek. He was wearing all black, his tee shirt tucked into his black jeans, the sleeves of his tee shirt rolled up over his shoulders. Y/N hated how nice his arms looked like that.

“Alright?” Harry asked, voice just as deep and sensual as it always was. It hit Y/N like a train coming head on each time she heard his voice after some time of not. Harry’s eyes were on Nathan for a small second before they landed on Y/N, lingering there a little too long before he approached his door.

“We’re exhausted,” Nathan groaned, slumping against the doorframe.

“Same,” Harry said, looking down at his right hand, flexing his fingers. Y/N was unable to look away. “My arm feels like it’s gonna fall off, been vibrating all night holding the tattoo gun.”

Y/N bit her lips together.

“Uno Society alright?” he asked, looking solely at Y/N now. She wanted to shout at him to stop, to pay most attention to Nathan so he would stop giving them a hard time.

“Fine,” Y/N answered quickly.

Harry smiled at her, lightly nodding his head once. “Good.”

Y/N looked away, feeling her entire face heat up as she continued to feel Harry’s stare on her. She logged into Facebook to look at the family groupchat which she knew had most likely blown up since she last checked her phone. Her papai would go absolutely mad if she didn’t at least check the chat once every few hours.

“I’ll leave you two to it then, I guess,” Harry said, opening the door into his room. “Night, Nath.”

“Night, Haz.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

It was hard to not look at Harry, but Y/N managed a, “Hm,” in response before she focused all her attention back on writing her e-mail address and password into Facebook. The door to Harry’s room closed and the second he couldn’t see them, Nathan turned to Y/N. He gawked at her while making a sound akin to dinosaurs’.

“’Goodnight, Y/N’?!” he hissed, still sounding crazed like he had done a second earlier. He rushed into Y/N’s room, closing the door behind him so quickly and soundlessly it made Y/N think of all the other times they had rushed into each other’s rooms like this growing up.

“He’s just wishing me goodnight, Nathan, why’re you making up conspiracy theories?”

“Oh, that’s all there is to it, isn’t it?!” he whisper shouted, still sounding crazy.

Y/N rolled her eyes and clicked on the ‘log in’ button on Facebook, done with listening to any more of Nathan’s stupid theories. Doing so, she was immediately brought to the home page, displaying the 99+ messages that had been sent in the family groupchat. Y/N sighed, about to open the chat when she let her eyes drift, landing on something that made her pause.

“Harry obviously wants to-“ But Nathan stopped as well, eyes falling on Y/N’s laptop screen and seeing what she was seeing. “Kit.” It sounded like he said it more to himself than anything else, reminding himself of who that was a picture of. “Kit and Finian.”

The picture in front of them was from inside a pub, two men, clearly drunk, standing in the middle of the picture while a group of others were surrounding them. Kit had his left arm wrapped around Finian’s waist, a broad smile on his face, showing off crooked teeth and a slight, dark stubble. His styled black hair was rather nicely kept considering he was under the influence, and his small forehead and pointy nose glistened with sweat. The tank top he was wearing showed off his well-defined muscles, something Y/N knew Marcela had found attractive about her boyfriend.

Finian beside Kit was a little chubbier, wearing a baby blue polo shirt while he had an arm slung over his best friend’s shoulders. His brown hair was longer than Kit and had also been ruined by numerous hair-ruffles and fixes in the mirror since he started drinking. He was singing along to a song, eyes shut and a huge smile on his face.

Finian and Kit had known each other for years, Y/N was unsure how they had become friends. Marcela had met Kit while she went to University of Manchester, and the two had been together since her first year there. He was five years older than her, so ten years older than Y/N, and she had never had any sort of particular relationship to him. He would come by their house in Nottingham every once in a while, eat dinner with the family, but would more often than not stay put in Manchester. Y/N was always positioned next to him at family gatherings, and though she didn’t mind because they rarely talked, it still made her blood boil when she thought about it now. If she had just finished him off or gotten Marcela to break up with him, maybe her older sister would still be alive.

There had been found drops of Kit’s blood in the cabin after he disappeared, but that was nothing compared to the amount of blood belonging to Marcela that had been found there. Kit’s car was gone and all of his belongings with it. The police had stated that there was no doubt about it; Kit had killed Marcela, maybe by accident, maybe intentionally, and had hidden her body somewhere before running off. Three years had passed since then, and there had not been a single trace of Kit. He remained hidden. Some tipped the police about him, stating that they had seen him someplace far away from Newport, Wales. He had been sighted in England, Scotland, France, Morocco, and in Indonesia. Still, to this day when “sightings” of Kit were getting fewer and the days went on by, Y/N thought all the sightings weren’t him. If he had planned to kill her sister, he would have planned it out, she knew it.

The police and the population of Newport along with neighbouring towns had all searched the woods around the cabin, but Marcela’s body had not been found and neither had Kit. Nothing had been found; there were no definite answers. Except for one, at least to Y/N: Kit had killed Marcela, and he was still on the run.

Not able to look at his face any longer, Y/N’s eyes landed on the caption to the photo. Someone she knew from school had commented on it, making it appear on her dashboard, because it would never have found its way to her if not. It angered Y/N that people posted pictures of Kit as if he wasn’t a deranged murderer. The date showed 8th September last year. On the anniversary of Marcela’s murder. Y/N looked at the person who had posted it, Graham Bartlett, another one of Kit’s friends.

Miss you two everyday. #FindKitAndFin.

Y/N blinked. “Find… Find Kit and Fin?” she asked, frowning at the laptop screen in front of her.

Nathan leaned on the back of her chair. “You don’t know about Finian?”

“Obvs not.”

Nathan inhaled slowly. “Just a few days after Marcela died and Kit disappeared, Finian vanished as well.”

Y/N just stared at the picture, now not able to take her eyes off of Finian. She had seen him outside her house sometimes, just barely talked to him. He seemed like a typical bloke that thought he was better looking than he actually was, someone that made girls uncomfortable. He had picked up Kit from their house in Nottingham when Kit had stayed over and Marcela and Kit had fought, or he had just picked up the both of them sometimes to drive them back to Nottingham. He always seemed to hang out by his car, always leaning against it or smirking from the driver’s seat.

“He disappeared?”

“Yeah,” Nathan answered. “No one’s seen him in three years, four now coming September.”

“There’s not a trace of him?”

“No. He lived alone, so no one noticed ‘cause he rarely answered his phone, except his boss. He always answered him. So, when he didn’t even pick up when his boss was calling, they knew something was up,” Nathan explained. “His flat looked just the same as always when the police entered, though. It looks like he just left for the shop.”

“His car was gone?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N continued to just stare at Finian on the picture in front of her. “How… How didn’t I know about this?”

“Y/N, your sister had just been killed, you had other things on your mind than Kit’s vanished mate,” Nathan assured her. “Besides, someone might have told you. After all, there are big chunks of the following year that you can’t remember.”

Y/N nodded, closing her eyes for a few seconds before exiting out of Facebook. She couldn’t look at them any longer. Rage was bubbling inside her like a kettle about to boil over. What if Kit drove his car someplace and parked it where no one can find it, and then Finian came to get him? What if they drove away from the cabin because they knew that someone would eventually turn up, so it was better to be far away as fast as possible? Did they take Marcela’s body with them? Or is she still in Kit’s car, wherever that was? The thought made Y/N physically sick and she slammed her laptop shut.

Monday, 22 January 2018

Y/N put her white oversized jumper over her head, liking how the chunky knit felt against her freezing form. She had made the mistake of keeping her window open all night when she usually just opened it for a tad bit before going to bed, then closing it before she actually went to sleep, so her room was absolutely freezing when she woke up, something that resulted in her pulling out her thick jumper. Her black lace halterneck bralette showed at her neck and the open collar of the jumper, but Y/N did not care. The bralette was super cute, anyone who glimpsed it would be lucky. Running her hands over her black mum jeans, Y/N shoved her glasses further up the bridge of her nose before she walked out of her room, getting ready to walk downstairs to the kitchen to make herself some breakfast.

Y/N halted at the top of the stairs, glimpsing a very familiar, broad and muscular back where it stood on the terrace at the bottom of the stairs. Y/N could see something else black along his back, but she couldn’t make it out through the white of his tank top. She swallowed thickly as she stopped in the middle of the staircase, tightening her hold on the railing. He just looked so effortlessly… so fucking good. So good. It made her heart beat faster just looking at him. Though she had had her answer ready for a while now, she had just not found the right moment to tell him, but this seemed as good a time as any. So, taking a massive breath in through her mouth and then out through her nose, Y/N proceeded down the rest of the stairs and over to the terrace door.

She knocked on the glass twice, making Harry look over his shoulder rather abruptly to see who was there. At the sight of her, his eyes grew a little wide, but he stepped to the side, letting Y/N come out onto their small terrace. Harry held onto his tea mug bringing it up to his lips as he let his eyes travel down Y/N’s body as quickly as possible. At that, it was physically impossible for Y/N to do the same to him.

He was wearing his loose black jeans again, but this time he only wore a white tank top to go with it, tucked into his jeans. The collar went so low that Y/N could see Harry’s two dragon tattoos, the red one over the left side of his chest and the black one on his right one. It had been a while since she had seen those. The thought of Harry having more tattoos hidden under his clothes on parts of himself that other people rarely got to see-

“-Fine,” Y/N said, interrupting her own thoughts. She held her hands up, letting them fall to her sides as she met Harry’s eyes again. “I’ll do it.”

There was a slight pause as Harry’s face went from slightly smug to absolutely bewildered, blinking rapidly as if he had to check if this was all real and not some made up daydream. “You’re… You’re saying yes?”

“Are you deaf?”

“You’re going to teach me how to be good-“

“-Shush!” Y/N hissed, taking a step closer to Harry with a finger in front of her mouth, eyes wide. “Let’s keep this between us and not all of Hackney.”

Harry let a small smile show, a light chuckle leaving his lips, even though his searching eyes told her he was still in disbelief. “But you’re not just taking the piss, we’re actually gonna do this?”

“Yes.”

Y/N could see Harry’s grip on his mug tighten as he bit his bottom lip. “Yeah… alright…” he mumbled under his breath. “I wish there was a chair out here, I feel like my knees are gonna give out.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, looking around them as if a chair was just going to materialise out of thin air. “I-“

“-I’ve also been trying to get you alone to say sorry,” Harry said, leaning against the brick wall. “I feel like I put a lot of pressure on you to say yes ‘cause I was so desperate, I didn’t really think a whole lot about anything other than just getting the question out into the open and for you to at least consider it. But in retrospect, I realise I should’ve stopped after your first ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’, but I didn’t, and I understand how stupid that was of me.” He sipped his tea, eyes on the inside of his mug before he locked eyes with her again. “If you want to stop this, at any time, or if you don’t even want to start now, that’s completely fine. All I care about is that you feel comfortable doing this. I not only appreciate you considering it and also doing it, but I also really want to have sex with you. I’m… well…” His eyes fell to his tea again, then at Y/N’s feet. “You’re so pretty, and I’ve always thought that.”

A few moments pass when the two of them are silent, the distant sounds of London waking up to a new day keeping them company as they both let this moment wash over them. Y/N’s eyes did not leave Harry and she noticed the slight pink hue that appeared over his cheekbones, and something told her that wasn’t the cold temperature and the wind of the canal’s doing.

“I’ve always thought the same about you,” she said, meeting Harry’s eyes when he looked up at her.

Hundreds of memories from a life before this one in London flashed past them as they stood there, suddenly remembering everything that had brought them to this very moment right here. Y/N wondered that, if they hadn’t had sex that one time three, almost four years ago, would Harry still have suggested this? She didn’t think he ever would have, even though they were both very sexually attracted to one another.

“This can’t go past sex,” Y/N said, breaking the silence once again. “It’s never going to become something more, at least not on my end, and I expect that from you too. Promise me we’re just gonna have sex, I’m going to make you feel more confident in bed, and then we can move past this without looking at one another any differently, okay?”

“I promise.”

“And you give me as many free tattoos as I want. However big.”

Harry smiled. “Of course.”

“Good.”

Harry bit his bottom lip, eyes resting on the bralette strap that was visible at Y/N’s neck. He quickly looked up again. “I want you to want to have sex with me, Y/N.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, giving Harry a reassuring smile. “I do. I’ve wanted to for a while. Your predicament just took me off guard.”

“If you at any point don’t want to continue, I’ll understand, and we’ll stop.”

“Naturally.”

Harry nodded, his brain working as he thought about something. “Now… Do you… Do we…”

Y/N just looked at him.

“Do you need me to buy anything?” he asked, to which Y/N continued to just look at him. “Lube? Condoms? Toys?”

She drew in a sharp breath, feeling her heartbeat quicken drastically. “You know what, buy whatever you want, whatever you need. I don’t care.” She put her hand on the doorknob, about to enter the flat.

“Oh! Also!” Harry exclaimed. “My birthday is next week, I’m celebrating with some mates and the flat at a teammates house, wanna come with? You can ask Chloe and the rest to come if you wanna.”

Y/N flashed a tight-lipped smile. “I’m flattered, but I’m working, I’m afraid.”

“Bugger.”

“Truly,” Y/N said, really meaning it. “I’ll leave a note under your door when our first… time will be.” She paused. “First session, maybe? We’ve already had our first time.”

Harry shrugged.

“Well, I’ll leave a note under your door when that first session will be.”

Harry grinned. “Can’t wait.”

“And leave that grin in your room, I don’t want to see you being all smug when we have a go that first time.”

His grin only widened. “Love, when I’m with you, fighting that grin is like fighting an oncoming tornado. I can’t win.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as Harry laughed. She walked back inside to go make herself something to eat while she felt Harry’s eyes on her the whole time, watching her through the window. Despite herself, Y/N found herself smiling as well.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 18th April, 9PM GMT!

Huge thanks to my AMAZING beta readers! 🏛️ @aileenacoustic​ 🏛️ @devil-in-bw-the-sheets​​​ 🏛️ @sunflowerstache​ 🏛️ @fromyourstrulyh​​ 🏛️

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↪︎ bokuto x f!reader x iwaizumi

[008] — we meet again!

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a/n: i was listening to hozier while writing this which explains why both bokuto and iwaizumi is whipped for the mc ✨

asking if you were okay was a good question. really, it is—too bad you didn’t know the answer to that very question no matter how grossly interchangeable the words were tossed around and scrambled into nuances phrases. if anything, it made your mood turn even more sour as your two best friends tried their best to calm you down. keyword: tried

kaori was too busy dying of laughter as she would tease the glaring look on your face. “you’re going to pop a blood vessel, honey.” she snickered, holding her stomach as it ached under the constant tension.

meanwhile akaashi was still profusely apologizing beneath the latter’s amusement. a sigh left your lips for the umpteenth time in the span of five minutes as your arms braided over each other in frustration. “what the fuck are you trying to get at, keiji?”

a gasp practically escaped kaori as she slapped her hand over her mouth, “(y/n) used your first name, that’s how you now she’s pissed off.”

akaashi could only roll his eyes. it was to his best bet to ignore any of kaori’s quips as she’s known to escalate things just by the power of that witty brain of hers. “nothing!” the editor exclaimed as he turned back to you, “i just figured it wasn’t a big deal since you and bokuto both said you guys ended on good terms. besides, i warned you to check the list.”

“okay, but that doesn’t explain the fact that iwaizumi is here!” it was at this moment that you were glad the music was pumping loudly through the venue speakers to hide over your shouts.

“i told you they work for the same team, but i didn’t know they were friends until i saw who bokuto wanted to invite!”

you groan, “unbelievable.”

“i just don’t think you should let their presence ruin the rest of the night, (y/n).” akaashi mentions flatly.

“i agree,” kaori suddenly cuts in, “it’s your party, you could kick them out if you want.” she suggests with an impish tone and an expression laced in provocation.

“i’m not going to kick them out, kaori—” you’re interrupted then as she swiftly elbows you in the breast, “ouch! what was that for?”

 “sorry, i was aiming for your ribs not your titty.” she laughs briefly before motioning to a familiar figure making it’s way towards you three. perhaps it was his height that triggered a response in you to cause your heart to rapidly thump against your ribcage, but honestly, it was probably his spiked hair with white tips that was the perpetrator. “is that bokuto? oh fuck, he’s coming, act natural.”

great, you thought. you had to fight the urge to just walk away a leave, but you knew it wasn’t going to end well whatever you did. knowing your luck, you were going to stumble upon this man one way or another.

“akaashi, there you are!” bokuto calls out over the crowd, serpentining his way through groups of conversating individuals to reach his best friend. but in all honesty, akaashi knew what this guy was doing. bokuto didn’t listen to a word he said in his text messages as the volleyball player ended up coming over here either way just to talk to you.

you’re over (y/n) my ass, akaashi thinks to himself, feigning from rolling his eyes again because at this point, it was just a matter of time before everything came crashing down.

it almost felt like a target was on you, perhaps a red laser shining right in the middle of your forehead the moment bokuto flickered his attention to you. “(y/n)! it’s so nice seeing you again!”

you nod as an awkwardly smile melted on your expression, “it’s nice seeing you too, bokuto.” despite your meek demeanor, what you said certainly wasn’t a lie. you would be lying to yourself if you said that you didn’t miss bokuto and his warming aura. you suppose it was the sudden meeting that caused your fight or flight response to suddenly kick in.

bokuto’s eyebrows furrow slightly, “bokuto? what happened to calling me kou?”

as if the situation wasn’t already difficult being in, it was as if he flicked another match into the burning dumpster fire of a party. “well... we haven’t seen each other in years, so i thought it was appropriate.”

“ah...” his voice trailed on as a few beats of silence ensued.

“oh shit,” kaori suddenly curses under her breath as she nonchalantly spilled his drink all over her arm. “um, akaashi could you come and help me clean this off?” she asks in faux concern, not bothering to give the guy a chance to answer as she tugged him away.

you couldn’t help but feel a faint smirk forming on your lips as you watched the two disappear into the crowd. kaori was always good at acting herself out of awkward situations that you honestly had to applaud her. maybe later you would teasingly remind her to audition for the webtoon’s live action just to spite her. it was just a little mindless payback for leaving you alone with your ex-boyfriend.

your striking gazes met again as you turned your attention back towards bokuto. at first glance, he looked exactly the same as you last saw him—then again, the last time you did see bokuto was when you two decided to break up on the day before graduation, you couldn’t remember much of him as it was dark under the midnight sky as tears blurred your vision. even when things ended up mutual with no hard feelings, you still couldn’t help but feel a tug at your heart when you recalled the way bokuto looked at you then.

it was hard to sleep that night. 

it was a bizarre juxtaposition of comparing eighteen year old bokuto to him now. rather than appearing before you with messy hair and tears streaming down his face, he was beaming in some contagious lightheartedness. it was a feeling you never thought you would feel so nostalgic in as he still smelt like fresh chamomile. he was much bigger now, more buff as one would say and not to mention taller as well.

perhaps going professional really treated this man wonders as you had to admit how increasingly more attractive he has gotten.

“you look great, by the way.” bokuto says, pulling you out of your thoughts as you realize how long you have been staring.

“thanks...” god, this is awkward. this certainly wasn’t leaving a good impression on your part, “you don’t look too bad either.”

a red tint burned at the tips of bokuto’s ears as he scratched the nape of his neck like it was some kind of nervous tic. he usually doesn’t get nervous meeting people, new or old, yet there was something about the way you look at him even after all these years that would send his heart rate into the extremes. he hated how this all ended due to your differing aspirations. “congrats on having a successful webtoon. love cemetery is amazing and i’m obsessed if you couldn’t already tell.”

“i never really pinned you to be one of my biggest fanboys, you know.”

“i’ve always been your biggest fanboy,” bokuto assured with a smirk, “how about you, are you still my biggest fangirl?”

you playfully scoffed at his statement, “um...”

“um?” he pressed, finding the amusement in your eyes adorable.

“i dunno, i haven’t really kept up with volleyball after high school.” you chuckled, swirling the contents of your drink in your hand. “besides, i think you have enough fangirls drooling over you.”

“who needs all of them if i have you?”

you rolled your eyes as you took a sip from the alcohol in your hands. “you’re flirting again.”

“isn’t that the reason why you dated my in the first place?” bokuto jested, feeling the burning in his cheeks as he couldn’t stop smiling. this was progress to him knowing that this playful banter was enough to surely get you two to reconnect again.

you peered your eyes at him suspiciously, “you’re planning something, aren’t you?”

“you’re making it sound like i’m evil!”

“well, are you?”

“of course i’m not,” said bokuto, “i just wanted us to be friends again.”

“you’re kidding.”

he shook his head, “never in a million years.”

you weren’t sure if it was his words that made your chest feel warm or if it was the alcohol in your system. regardless, you refused to let bokuto affect you so easily in a span of a couple minutes even if you took your alcohol well.

“at least you weren’t kidding when you said you were going professional.” you hummed, leaning against one of the smaller round tables as you stared into the crowd. you were hoping bokuto would do the same, but he’d rather look at you than a congregation of random strangers.

“and you weren’t kidding either when you said you wanted to become an artist.”

“i mean, becoming a webtoon artist wasn’t exactly what i thought i was going to be, but i’m glad where i am now in life.” you answered as your eyes wandered the room.

“even without me in it?” god, what a flirt.

that infamous laugh of yours emitted from your cherry-colored lips. it was the type of laugh everyone found themselves attracted to and never annoyed, in fact, it was the laugh bokuto hadn’t even realized he missed so much until the moment it left you.

his mindless attempts at flirting was catching up to you now as you couldn’t fight the feeling of the heat rising to your cheeks. “well, you’re right in front of me aren’t you?”

“things are different know, though...”

“right but—” you tried to respond, but was inevitably interrupted by yuko.

she came up to you in a slight hurry, calling out your name before apologizing to bokuto. “sorry to cut your conversation so short, but i need (y/n) to come take care of something for me.”

confusion melted upon your expression as you turned to her, “we do?”

“we do,” she huffs.

“it’s alright,” bokuto says while motioning for you to follow suit of your manager. “let’s catch up more sometime, yeah?”

you smile at him, one that’s less mediocre and awkward and a bit more genuine. “of course,” was the last thing you could say before yuko yanked at your arm once again until you were in just another body in the crowd.

despite yuko’s hand firmly gripped around your wrist to ensure you wouldn’t get lost in the sea of people, it was difficult trying to focus at one thing at a time. at first it was the worry about your manager and her sudden interruption, but now it was trying your best not to spill your drink due to all the drunken bodies bumping into yours. were there really this many people on the invite list?

grumbling to your self, you threw your head back as you finished the last bits of drink in your hand while you were pulled through the crowd like a ragdoll. having to pay for a stranger’s dry cleaning due to a spilled drink was the last thing on your mind right now.

“what did you want me to help you with?” you shout over to your manager once she slowed down.

“nothing,” said yuko over her shoulder, “i was watching you and bokuto talk and you kept getting redder and redder i thought you were going to pass out.”

embarrassment flushed through, cheeks heating up again at the thought. “ugh, was it that obvious?” you groaned as your head fell from the utter humiliation that was coursing through your body at that moment—far too distracted that your humiliation could only worsen the moment you bumped into another.

“sorry, i wasn’t looking—” the apologetic tone in your voice subsided as your eyes flickered up to whoever’s chest it was up to a yet another familiar face.

“(y/n)?” he says.

“iwaizumi?” you say.

your names were jumbled up in unison just as much as your thoughts immediately dissipated into thin air. just my luck, huh? you swore you were dreaming. nothing in the absolute world could possibly make such a ironic turn of events as if you were in some melodrama yourself. call it fate or destiny, but bumping into both of your exes within a span of ten minutes was something you never would’ve wished upon yourself.

“it’s um... fancy meeting you here.” you start the second you flicker a look over to yuko as she could only give you a pitiful smile. “it’s been a while, right?”

regardless of the confident aura you were extruding right now, you were completely freaking out for the third time this evening. you knew today was going to affect you emotionally, but you wasn’t expecting it to be like this. you were expecting to get a bit emotional due to the fact your webtoon that you poured your absolute heart and soul into has come to an end and not because two attractive dudes from your past just coincidentally came back into your life.

and yet it didn’t matter, it wasn’t like iwaizumi could see through that little façade of false confidence in your expression as it felt like he was meeting you for the first time all over again. it fit all down to a tee from the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat to his breath hitching from the sight or to the infamous monarch butterflies tickling his gut.

“it’s nice to see you too, (y/n)...” his words trailed as you couldn’t help but notice how deeper his voice had gotten since the last time you’ve seen him. granted, he was fifteen back then and had a lot of time to grow up and become this absolute adonis.

iwaizumi certainly wasn’t planning on coming across you this evening either. if anything, you two both shared that internal panic when your eyes briefly met at the start of the party. however, he couldn’t help but feel a bit relieved knowing that in the end you two did manage to cross ways. he supposes that after seeing you and bokuto talk as if you two have known each other for years created an inkling feeling in his gut.

he hates the way you distracted him the majority of the night. it wasn’t like you two were on talking terms especially after years of not seeing each other, yet it felt strange for him to even let himself feel this way.

besides, iwaizumi felt absolutely terrible knowing satomi was trying her hardest to capture his lingering attention by making conversation about anything—literally anything.

anyone who had been friends with iwaizumi in the past know he’s an absolute sweetheart, but at the same time, he’s honest. he’s not the type to hesitate in telling someone the cold hard truth even if it meant hurting their feelings, yet whenever he would look at satomi, he couldn’t bring himself to say that he wasn’t interested in the conversation.

you cleared your throat, pulling iwaizumi back from his thoughts, “so... i heard that you became the new athletic trainer for the black jackals.” the man before you nods as he was stilling taking you all in. was he staring at you for that long? “i thought were living in california, why the sudden change of plans?”

iwaizumi shrugs as he took a sip of his beer, “i ended up getting a better job offer here, so i decided to move back. why? have you missed me?”

the moment those words left his lips, he immediately wanted to slap his hand over his mouth and cringe. why was he suddenly so flirtatious with you? was it because he saw you and bokuto flirting earlier, was that it?

you chuckled in amusement as you nod. you honestly weren’t going to lie that his words did catch you off guard for a second. something like this was definitely not in iwaizumi’s handbook his (more or less) complicated personality, yet you decided to play along anyway. “of course i have, iwa! i’m not soulless, you know.”

iwa? the man before thought to himself, what happened to haji? he shook the thought out of his as he opened his mouth in attempt to speak, but he noticed your attention leaving his and onto the person beside him.

satomi cleared her throat as she looks at him innocently, waiting for iwaizumi to introduce her to you.

“oh uh,” he motions his head to the team’s physical therapist next to him, “this is yahagi satomi, she’s my—”

“—date for this evening,” she cuts iwaizumi off and answers for him, catching him a bit off guard and confused, yet he doesn’t correct her. granted, satomi was his plus one so it made sense.

you purse your lips as you took in her features. she was a bit on the shorter side with her long copper hair pulled back into a sleek high ponytail as her bangs were styled perfectly to fit her face. semi was right, she is pretty. it was then you stuck your hand out for her to shake, feeling who cold her palm was compared to yours. “it’s nice to meet you. how long have you two been together?” you ask out of the blue.

i mean, what’s wrong with a little curiosity?

“oh no, we’re not together.” iwaizumi is quick to answer, not even noticing satomi’s slight change in expression when she parted her lips to answer herself. “she’s just my plus one because bokuto told us to.”

you nod at his words, trying your best to ignore the intravenous relief that was coursing through you at that moment. you realized how long you had been standing there then, failing to notice that yuko was still by your side the entire time. if anything, she was just trying to help you out once again as she could literally feel the rising tension in the air. if you were to talk to satomi any longer, it would surely go wrong knowing your luck. luckily, she spots sugawara’s silvery hair just a few feet away.

yuko wasn’t entirely sure how in the hell she was going to get his attention to save your asses, but it was going to happen one way or another. she was just glad you were too preoccupied talking to iwaizumi and satomi that yuko was able to text sugawara to come over.

she watched sugawara feel the buzzing of his phone in his pocket, observing his every move as he pulls it out and read the text as the screen light shined over his face. he looked up then, eyes scanning the room briefly before landing upon yuko’s familiar figure standing next to yours.

the manager widens to eyes a bit at him like a warning to come over here.

she wasn’t sure what was so hard to understand from the pure helplessness in her expression, but sugawara was taking his sweet ass time.

yuko grumbled to herself. at this point, perhaps she was just trying to save herself.

it was then sugawara was finally making his way over to you and yuko. “oh hey, iwaizumi! long time no see, sorry to interrupt but i need to borrow (y/n) and yuko for a second.”

you gave sugawara a confused look as it washed over your expression. again? ugh, give me a break. however, before you could excuse yourself from the conversation, iwaizumi grabs your upper arm lightly.

“(y/n),” he stops you in place, “we should catch up sometime.”

you open your mouth to respond, but sugawara interjects before you could. “why not catch up now?” he suggests, causing all four of you to snap your head towards him, “i’m sure i’ll just yuko’s help will be enough, plus (y/n) has tons of time to talk to more guests.”

the silver haired man gives you a sly wink before taking yuko with him and leaving you behind. great.

you honestly couldn’t excuse yourself now as it would be obvious why no matter how many excuses you come up with, so you had to power through. besides, what could go wrong with talking with your first love and some random girl that somehow gives you a weird vibe?

“so how do you guys know each other?” satomi questions you, suddenly interested in your relationship with iwaizumi. it sounds suspicious, yet she was genuinely wondering if she was attempting to make moves on someone like iwaizumi was a good idea.

“we went to middle and a little bit of high school together,” you answer as a matter-of-fact. there was surely no need to lie.

her eyebrows rise in curiosity, “that makes sense... you guys must have been really close, huh.”

you flickered a look to iwaizumi, examining his reaction if he was also noticing her off words. “yeah... really close.” his expression melted into confusion then as you placed your gaze back to satomi.

iwaizumi scratched the back of his neck as the words remained at the tip of his tongue. why weren’t you mentioning that you two dated before? it wasn’t like it was a crime nor secret. he hated to think this, but could it be because you regretted your relationship with him?

he shook the thought out of his head quickly. the obvious answer was no as the breakup was mutual, yet after all these years of drifting apart, was that really the truth?

if he recalled correctly, one of the last words you said to him before you inevitably left for tokyo and never looked back was that you love him and would always be there for him no matter what. you even promised to text him as much as possible, yet after months had passed since you moved to your new life, it was as if the promise was nonexistent. however, iwaizumi couldn’t bring himself to blame you. if anything, he had himself to blame considering how many times he had written that same text over and over again, yet never had the courage to send it.

“(y/n) had to move to tokyo after our first year so we kind of drifted.” iwaizumi answers. even now with the chance open for him to mention your previous relationship was out in the open, he was still do cowardly to say it.

perhaps somethings never change.

fun facts! —

iwaizumi wasn’t really keen on using social media back in high school, which explains why he never really found out about (y/n) and bokuto’s relationship

it wasn’t like (y/n) and bokuto liked posting about their relationship either at the time

satomi and bokuto have always been homies after they have gotten closer when bokuto injuredhis knee and had to go to physical therapy, but he never really talked about his past relationships, hence satomi not knowing about (y/n)

taglist: (comment or send an ask to be added!)

@moonlightaangel @elianetsantana @k4tiepie @memorableminds @skyguy-peach @suhkusa @kitsunetea @airybby @noeminemi @truly-a-snitch @keichan @cosmicmermaid25 @bap-kingdom @saturnfarie @kwdflash @ennos-baby @dinablossom @chrisrue15 @seikamuzu @nestlevanilla @chasekudo @yammmers @pixcldust @iwaizluv @h0ngh0ngh0ng @emogril @tiredandkindaoverworked @atsunakaashi @underratedmage @bokutosuwus @kellesvt @kaiju-teeth @oh-tapeworm @scrappydaisies @alittlebitofrain @mxngy @tpwkatsumu @atsumuwoah @macchiatoast @dicerawr @kageyamasbabygorl @some-random-stranger-007 @vhskenma @wntrmn @little-plants @stargirlara @kissungjae @je11yfishwriter @sbaepsae

[ackerfics]

hi! i don’t know if you’re taking requests but if you are would you be interested in a soulmate au with mikasa. i adore soulmates au a lot! mikasa x fem!reader (aot cast reincarnated into the modern world and they get to have a happy and not stressful life)

she is half of my soul, as the poets say  — mikasa ackerman

— mikasa ackerman x female reader (soulmate au)

— warnings: none, just fluff

— summary: you finally found each other.

— word count: 3.2k

— author’s notes: thank you so much for the request !! i hope you enjoy reading this because i had a blast putting this all together. plus, i couldn't help but place a quote from 'the song of achilles' bc that was a masterpiece.

Underwater.

Your surroundings were submerged in the depths of the ocean to you.

The professor in front of the lecture hall continued his lesson in a cacophony of white noise. The occasional flipping of textbooks and the clacking of the keyboard droned, a majority of the students tried taking down what the middle-aged man was reciting. You should be doing those, too, but there was something about your day that made you want to skip class and bury yourself in a mound of blankets. The air-conditioning wasn’t helping at all, it just made you drift away, even more, images of flying people and humanoid giants flickering through your mind. Even your vision was becoming blurry as you stared at the seat in front of you, not noticing how your Ethics professor dismissed your class with a reminder of the paper that was due the following week. You were still seated as most of the students stood up, eager to spend the rest of their day inside their dormitories and apartments.

“[Name].” Somebody called out to you but the raw feeling of swinging in midair acted like a bubble, keeping you from going back to reality. The voice groaned in frustration at your lack of response. “Earth to [Name]! Hey, wake up!”

You shook out of your stupor with a blink, turning your head slowly at the person waiting for you. You took in her casual attire, so different from the daydream you were in. At first, you didn’t know about your whereabouts, making you look around the lecture hall — empty except for the two of you and the professor at front. The feeling of confusion once again dominated your sound mind as you breathed out, “Where am I? I thought I was just outside in this desert and I was surrounded by people who were crying like they were a hopeless case. Then there was someone screaming my name, saying they wouldn’t let me go.”

The person pursed their lips, concerned and slightly creeped out at the nonsense coming out of your mouth. There weren’t any deserts near you right now because you two were in the middle of the city, inside a university. The way you phrased those words sounded like a plot from an apocalyptic movie you were bound to binge during academic breaks. There were accounts scattered around the internet about reincarnation that the person drank in the early hours of dawn when they couldn’t go to sleep but witnessing it in front of them, was another whole level of conspiracy theories. A hand was planted on your shoulder, your friend smiling sympathetically at you, knowing that you sometimes have these episodes inside your shared apartment. The look you gave them was enough to erase the wariness bubbling in your friend’s stomach, which spurred them to gather your things and placing them inside your backpack. Your friend worked in silence, however, they were aware of the stare you never took off from the side of their head.

“In case you don’t remember me,” your friend looked up at you with a twinkle of mischief in their irises, “I’m Hitch and I’m your roommate.” She was speaking to you as if you were a toddler, something that made annoyance tickle your chest.

“Hitch?” You mumbled, looking down on your lap for a solid minute until you gasped out loud, the sound echoing inside the lecture hall without any warning. The professor looked up from his seat, glare already in place at the disruption you caused. You buried your face in your hands, face erupting in hues of red because of the embarrassment creeping in your throat. “Oh, my God, don’t tell me I did it again.”

Hitch nodded with a shrug. “I mean, I’m used to your episodes but it always amazed me how you wake up from them all disoriented.” Finishing with her task of tidying your bag, she pulled on your arm. “I think I should record whatever you say next time, this could be my viral moment.” When you gave her a dry glare, she laughed. “Oh, come on, think of the possibilities! But pushing that aside, let’s have dinner first.”

“Hitch, it’s only four in the afternoon.”

She scoffed lightheartedly. “We can always have a midnight snack later. Right now, I’m craving something savory.” The two of you went outside the lecture hall’s door, not missing the look of relief from your Ethics professor as you linked your arm with Hitch’s. She turned to you expectantly. “Any ideas for dinner, bub?”

There was a churning feeling inside your stomach, very much like those life-and-death situations during exams where you rely on your gut for the correct answer if the test includes multiple-choice questions. This time, instead of the nagging voice telling you to encircle the first choice, your gut was telling you to head to the café near your university. Aside from their famous coffee blends and teas (the latter being one of their specialties), the café houses a variety of dishes in its menu, which doesn’t make them a café anymore but the owner still insisted that they’ll be known as that establishment. It was more of a restaurant than your regular coffee shop, making it a hit among the students in the University of Eldia, where a majority of the student body was either caffeine-dependent or reliant on fast food take-outs. The quaint café owned by Levi Ackerman was the perfect solution to yours and Hitch’s grumbling stomachs. 

“How about the café just outside of uni?” You suggested, hoping that Hitch will consider the idea.

The said girl hummed, a finger placed on her chin. “The one owned by that grumpy short-stack?” 

“Hey, that’s rude.”

Hitch shrugged without care, hoisting her tote bag up to her shoulder. “Even his cousin calls him that, you know?” At your raised eyebrow, all Hitch could do was laugh at your adorable, clueless expression. Between the two of you, the light-haired girl was the social butterfly in your friendship and you wouldn’t be surprised if she even had an inkling of the gossips happening around your year level. 

“Relax, his cousin is a good person (that is if she doesn’t kill you with her blank stare), along with their little friendship circle. I must say, all of them look so adorable. You remember Annie, right?” She continued when she saw you nod, the mention of the blonde made you remember your time when the three of you shared your apartment. It was a good kind of chaotic, the three of you balancing out each other’s personalities. Annie was always the indifferent one, Hitch the most sociable, and you being the mediator of the two. “She’s dating one of Mikasa’s friends, Armin. Mikasa is the cousin, by the way, and I can clearly see the resemblance between her and the café’s owner. With the permanent scowl and all.”

“Uh-huh.”

You didn’t know what to do with the information so you only hummed and nodded your head every time Hitch spewed out a couple of trivia involving people you have heard down the hallways or being called during roll-calls. She even told you how one of Mikasa’s friends, Sasha Braus, was reprimanded for eating inside the class of an infamous terror teacher, which landed the girl on that professor’s blacklist. The girl, Sasha, was actually in one of your classes but you never really talked to her, all of your attention poured out into absorbing what the teacher relayed in the class. All of Hitch's ramblings spanned the entirety of your walk to the café — a talent your roommate has that amazed you every time it happened. 

The smell of cinnamon greeted you once you stepped inside the café, the homey decorations making your heart warm in an instant. There were a couple of college students in separate tables, all of them draping their textbooks and readings in front of them, headphones plugged in despite the soothing background music brought by the café’s speakers. Now that you mention it in your head, midterms were coming up in a month and you hadn’t started organizing your revisions. As your mind was filled with the scent of flowers and coffee, Hitch tugged on the sleeves of your blouse, your light-haired friend wordlessly gesturing her head towards one of the empty tables overlooking the window showing the small garden beside the café. You nodded and flashed a thumbs-up, already knowing what Hitch’s order is the number of times she went home with take-outs from this establishment.

Thinking that you should order something for a change, you looked up at the menu board above the counter. With your order listed in your mind, you faced the person manning the counter, ready to relay your order to her. What greeted you, though, wasn’t a smiling cashier, instead, wide gray eyes stared at you with a slacked jaw — irises flecked with an emotion that sent your heart lurching inside your chest. She was a tall girl with muscles in the right places, black hair styled in a pixie cut that made you appreciate her features more. You faintly recalled that she was in one of your majors, which should explain the air of familiarity surrounding her. Her hands on the small notepad hovered over the current lilac paper, her posture rod straight as her breath hitched while staring into you. You weren’t sure what made her react like that so you slightly tilted your head back to look at the booths behind you. Hitch caught your eyes, raising her eyebrow in a silent question. Facing the counter attendant again, you were shocked to see that star-like tears were decorating her eyelashes, chapped lips wobbly. 

It felt like you’ve seen that expression too many times but you were sure this was the first time you saw her face to face.

“Oi, Mikasa, why are you stalling?” A short black-haired man entered the space behind the counter, arms crossed and gaze questioning as he took in the breaking form of his employee. “It’s been a full minute and you still didn’t take the customer’s order.” 

“Can I stay in the breakroom for a while?”

Your breath was taken away at the sound of her voice. It sounded like all four seasons were present in the soft-spoken tone she carried, very different from her tough physical appearance. You were left staring at her back, chest nearly bursting open because of how fast your heart pounded just from that sentence. Images of late-night trysts played in your head; of secret kisses that created an ocean of emotions inside you; of eyes looking at each other with tendrils of hope before the gates open, death beckoning you in its arms; of desperate promises, neither person could ever keep. All of them were so familiar and nostalgic that a swarm of butterflies was starting to infest your ribs and chest, sprouting flowers that clogged your throat from speaking. 

Levi glanced at you, eyes analyzing your form with a hint of concern for his relative and wondering what made Mikasa act like that. “Sure, go ahead, brat, your friends are at the back. Hello, ma’am, I’ll be taking your order.”

“Oh, sure,” you murmured before beginning to list down the food you and Hitch will be indulging in, eyes curiously staring at the girl going inside the breakroom. “Uhm, is she going to be alright?” You tried asking Levi, who only looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “It looks like she had a fright here.”

“It’s the first time I saw her in that state, to be honest,” Levi simply answered, with no room for other discussions. “Your drinks will be served shortly.” He gave you a small gadget, his pointer finger pushing a button on the device, making it light up in a blinding red. “Once your drinks are ready, this will light up and you can get it here on the counter. Thank you for your patronage.”

“Thank you, too.”

It was only when you seated yourself in front of Hitch that you realized Mikasa’s voice sounded like the one always shouting your name in your daydreams, failing to keep the promise of never letting you go.

-

Mikasa was a mess.

First, before waking up for her 7 A.M. class one autumn day, she was haunted by the memories of her previous life (or this is what Armin told her, with him also remembering being born again from a different timeline, another universe altogether rather). In that more outdated version of this world, they were on the constant grapple with these beings called Titans. Her dreams became more complex the more time passed by as these Titans disappeared, replacing with it a looming war between two countries. Her daydreams always resulted in tear-stained cheeks, eyes then finding her best friend who started a mass genocide in their previous lives, Eren. When Mikasa remembered that part of her last life, she would often find herself staring deeply at the side of Eren’s head, resulting in the brown-haired man complaining about her soulless eyes. It looked like Eren didn’t remember it, which nearly drove Mikasa mad. 

Until that day Eren came up to her after a three-hour lecture, all haggard with his man-bun in disarray, and shouting, “I’m so sorry for laughing at you, Mikasa! I had a dream during a lecture of those titan things you and Armin are talking about. I believe you!”

Second, the warmth of somebody was a constant in balancing out the horrors of her daydreams. Among the carnage, a body fitting against hers with the morning rays passing through the slit of the windows was a sight she didn’t want to wake up from. Threads of soft hair tickled her cheek, making way for an unforgettable shade of irises that she compared to the crystals they found underneath the Reiss estate. A smile so vibrant that it paled in comparison to the blue expanse of unknown waters they saw after killing all the Titans in Paradis. The smell of freshly picked flowers lingered in the air, acting like the comforting blanket Mikasa had when she was young. At first, she couldn’t see the face of the person but as the episodes became more vivid, Mikasa finally saw the woman of her dreams. 

Pulchritudinous — that’s what you are.

After that encounter with you in the café, Mikasa immediately talked everything out with her two friends.

“So you’re saying that you kind of knew her but you don’t?” Eren pointed out after a spoonful of ice cream. “This is some conspiracy theory shit right here.”

“Eren,” Armin sighed. “This is not one of those videos you watch at 3 A.M., okay?” The blonde glanced at the last member of their little trio, who was pacing in front of them with a queasy expression on her face. “Mikasa, I know you feel like you’re in a pinch but please calm down.”

Eren leaned forward and took a spoonful of ice cream from the tub on the low table. “It’s no use, Armin. You know Mikasa.” He nodded his head towards the said girl. “Once she enters that state, we can’t do anything about it.”

“I know,” Armin trailed off, dejected.

Mikasa buried her hands through her hair. “This was so unexpected.”

“Clearly,” Eren dryly stated.

The blue-eyed boy beside him instantly hit the back of his head. “Eren!”

Mikasa stopped pacing, not hearing how Eren exclaimed ‘finally’, her face and neck erupting in a warm shade of red that made her two friends exchange a concerned glance. Placing a hand on her pounding chest, she murmured with half-lidded eyes, “She’s much more beautiful than my dreams depicted her to be.”

Armin breathed out a silent ‘oh’ while Eren snickered, “Great, she turned into a simp,” to which the former slapped another hand at the back of the green-eyed boy’s head.

“That explains it,” the black-haired girl exclaimed. “There were times where a voice inside my head tells me to be at this specific place at a specific time.” (“I’m concerned,” Eren stage-whispered to Armin.) “While applying for this university, I had a feeling that I should take up medical sciences. Every time I’m at the campus, I will always find myself in the library after five o’clock and there are instances that I would search the tables. And you guys know how I hate helping Levi in the café.” Eren and Armin nodded as if they were children. “I just realized that she was always there, I can see her now. Why did I miss her when all this time, I was meant to find her? And now that she’s finally in the café right when I told Levi that I felt like helping the shop, I ran away! I’m such an idiot!” Mikasa then sunk on one of the plush chairs, her groans mingling with the gloomy atmosphere she created.

“You’re not an idiot, Mikasa,” Armin told her, to which she replied with an aggravated groan.

“Yeah, you’re not an idiot, you’re just having a gay panic moment,” Eren casually announced. Both of his friends slowly turned their heads toward him. He stared right back, blinking as he shrugged. “You have to admit, I’m not wrong.”

“You’re not helping right now.”

“I’m just stating a fact, Armin!”

The blonde boy rolled his eyes. “So what are you going to do about this, Mikasa?”

“About Eren?”

“No,” Armin shook his head. “Eren will be fine with his two brain cells.”

“Hey, I’m right here.”

Armin rolled his eyes and fixed his gaze on his gray-eyed best friend. “So are you going to tell [Name] that you two are star-crossed lovers pre-destined since your previous lives?”

The confidence she gained the day before during that conversation with her childhood friends dissipated as Mikasa awkwardly stood in the middle of the university’s library, eyes widely staring at you, who was browsing the shelves for the reference material for your papers. She didn’t expect to meet you this suddenly. All she was supposed to do was borrow a reference material and there she realized that the two of you share the same major so most of your schedule line up with one another — the both of you share a free period. Almost as if you were surrounded by a magnetic field, Mikasa went in your direction, her heart matching her footsteps. Meters became feet as she looked at your captivating figure. Even with a shirt tucked inside a pair of jeans, you are still the most beautiful girl inside the library. 

And as you lifted your gaze, your glinting irises meeting her gray ones, Mikasa swore her orbit was waiting for this moment to be tilted to you.

Tears were immediately present in your eyes when she stood in front of you, it was as if you remembered her.

“Hey,” Mikasa breathed shakily, hands gripping the strap of her backpack.

“Hey, starlight.”

That nickname. The one you blurted out when Mikasa invited you stargazing in the meadow beside the Survey Corps Headquarters. You said it suited her because her eyes reminded you of the glow of the stars forming a canopy above you. But for her, you were brighter than any star in the sky, you were an entire cosmos altogether. “You became a part of me the moment I laid my eyes on you in our town. Right then and there — wherever you go, I’ll go. Because I know, I’m a part of you as well.”

“You finally found me.”

You are half of her soul, as the poets say, and the Fates will do everything in their power that it stays like that for eternity.