#i literally bought new books two days ago

[coquette2004]

[hannieween]

lunacy | city lights series | h.js

You could no longer hide your infatuation over Joshua Hong. It was becoming painfully obvious, though you weren't sure to what extent he was aware of this. Or if he even cared, for that matter.

✮ pairings: joshua hong x female reader ✮ genre: angst, smut (18+) ✮ aus: rock singer joshua, neighbors with benefits ✮ word count: 18.8k

↣ part i – part ii – part iii – navi post – other fics

₊🎧: underwater - baekhyun ♡︎ | shutdown - moon byul and seori ♡︎ | beautiful liar - monsta x ♡︎ | more - i.m ♡︎ ₊ nsfw warnings under the cut!!

✮ warnings: mentions of menstruation, smut with plot, dom Joshua, sub reader, big dick Joshua, phone sex, dirty talks, foul language, corruption kink, praise kink, exhibitionism: bj in a public space, cum swallowing, multiple sex scenes, masturbation, oral sex (f, m), brat taming: orgasm denial and pussy slaps, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names: pretty girl, baby, princess, sweetheart, bunny (hers) baby boy (his)

part iv

In your few years being a full time writer, you've made little traditions to keep for yourself.

For example, each time you started outlining your drafts, you'd go to a special spot in your favorite library, near the windows to watch people walk by on the streets. It helps your brain flow with ideas and brainstorm for hours.

Whenever you need to come up with stronger ideas for a plot, or find yourself in a bit of a writer's block, you go to the rooftop of your building. A tradition which has started to taint under the memories of you and Joshua, because quite inevitably, you start thinking of him.

And whenever you submit a finished draft, you tend to go elsewhere. Literally, you buy a ticket and go somewhere else, distract yourself for a little while, even sometimes, you give yourself the luxury to stay in a hotel for a night or two and come back feeling like a new person.

This time, you only bought a ticket for same day travel. But the method of transportation was by train. Which suited your needs a little bit more: you could see the landscape roll by your eyes, the openness of the outskirts of your city was beautiful—so different from looking out the window and seeing big tall buildings and billboards.

You've only visited this city once, when you published your first book years ago. As a young writer, you didn't have much money to go anywhere but there.

But you came across a gem: the town was colorful, it had its own quiet magic of a place loved and celebrated by the people who lived there.

When you first visited, you felt alien to the silent movement of the day. It was so strange to you that at first you got an eerie chill that maybe you got to a ghost town by accident, being so used to the buzz of the city throughout the day.

That's why you chose to come here as soon as you submitted your finished draft. It felt like sending a love letter and then hiding under your bed covers.

There was a small creek in the middle of the beautiful town, and a wooden bridge stood above it. You sat on a bench near the creek, the only noise filling your brain was the current of the stream.

Until the buzz of your phone interrupted that peace.

[9: 14 AM] Yen ✿: good news! [9: 14 AM] Yen ✿: you've been green lighted the second installment to your trilogy   [9: 14 AM] Yen ✿: yay! 🥰 [9: 15 AM] you: What? they already finished reading it? I sent it at midnight ???  [9: 15 AM] Yen ✿: of course you're up already  [9: 15 AM] Yen ✿: they haven't read it yet, that much i can tell you but  [9: 15 AM] Yen ✿: idk what to say girl [9: 15 AM] Yen ✿: they already want to know you're working on book 2

That doesn't make sense, you said to yourself.

[9: 16 AM] Yen ✿: why do i feel like this is bad news  [9: 16 AM] Yen ✿: are u not excited or  [9: 16 AM] you: I am! this is great!  [9: 16 AM] you: I'm already working on book 2 :) [9: 16 AM] Yen ✿: great i'll tell them  [9: 16 AM] Yen ✿: btw what happened to mr hot neighbor  [9: 17 AM] Yen ✿: 👀👀  [9: 17 AM] you: Can we have that conversation on another day? I don't want to think about him right now [9: 17 AM] Yen ✿: fine

But it was entirely too late.

Memories of the last night you spent with Joshua started to flood your mind. You saw him last that Saturday night when you asked him to continue with your little agreement of being fuckbuddies.

He agreed. So you agreed to not see each other on Sunday, but what did happen was that he finally asked for your number. Though as expected, he hadn't texted yet.

That was another reason for your departure today. As soon as the clock hit midnight and it was Monday, you sent your file with the finished draft of your book and booked a ticket for the magical town you remember having visited in your first publishing experience.

Will he text? He hadn't all Sunday, so you didn't see it foreseeable that he would on Monday. Well, what do you actually know about him? You knew a few things. You seemed to have measured his behavior really well but what else did you know?

Nothing.

Not his birthday, his favorite color, his favorite song or movie. Does it matter? He's your fuckbuddy. There are no rules as to what you should know about the person you're fucking.

There may be a few details that are pertinent to doing what fuckbuddies do, yes. Like protection and being tested and such, a thing that you already had covered with Joshua, obviously.

But, should you know your fuckbuddy's favorite color? You knew that he didn't like to kiss you while fucking you, for example. And he conveniently fucks you in positions that distance your hands from his face so you can't touch him either.

Why does that feel like a bitter pill to swallow? Ah, yes. You have a terrible infatuation over him. Like a thorn that you do not dare to remove. In fact, you like the pain you get from it because it's the only thing you'll get.

You let out a broken sigh, swallowing your tears. You felt particularly emotional that day—a sign of your upcoming cycle, so your hormones were working twice as hard.

Another reason to stay away from Mr. Hot Neighbour, if you will.

Despite the sunny day, the temperature was growing colder, so that the season was changing to winter. You liked the mixed taste of it, the sunny sky and chill in the air, sitting by the peaceful creak of the ghost town.

You had a pending decision looming in your mind from the moment you took the train in the break of daylight. Should you tell Joshua how you feel? Is it something you thought helped your situation?

There was nothing you could compare your situation to your past experiences. Your past lovers never got to be as relevant as Joshua. No lover ever shook your heart so hard to the point of hurting. It wasn't just the sex, or his crushing beauty—you were well aware of that. 

You just fell in love of the way your bodies synced together. The way that he seemed to hear your thoughts and read the way your body moved so well. He made you feel seen.

Maybe it's not a great idea to confess to him. But you could try another way, maybe taunt him with silly questions about love, like you did before. 

After what seemed like an hour had passed, you opened the small portable cooler you brought with your person. You came prepared with a meal to have in the quietness of the creak, hearing the sounds of nature and the quiet life of the little town around you.

It was a peaceful day, the only thing that disrupted it was your pending talk with Joshua, which still resided in your head, wasn't even a fact yet.

You planned to stay until sunset, which due to the fact that winter was onset, happened early. You chose to read a book on the two hour trip back home, which was a good choice since it had been a while since you read something other than your own work.

In the elevator of your building, you found yourself wishing for a night of peaceful uninterrupted sleep. You didn't want to suffer from insomnia for a good while, although you knew that with your second book green lit, that might be happening soon.

You stifled a yawn as you got to your apartment. It was 7 PM and you decided that it might be a good idea to prepare yourself for bed. You drew yourself a bath, had a small meal and went overboard and induced yourself to sleep with melatonin—for good measure.

The good thing was that it was a dreamless, heavy sleep.

You woke up the next day feeling incredibly groggy and much to your demise, felt the silent announcement of the beginning of your cycle. With a groan, you dragged yourself out of bed and kick started your day.

[11:55 AM] joshua: bunny, are you busy today?

You stared at your screen for a good while. You were in the middle of your daily chores, cleaning your mail and responding to some others when your phone buzzed on your desk.

You turned the silent mode on and decided to respond to it later.

Why does he have to call you that? Does it hurt him to call you by your name?

Easy, you told yourself.

[18:31 PM] joshua: i'll take that as a yes ? [18:34 PM] you: I'm free tonight

You bit your lip. God, why do you feel like a teenager that time you first talked to the person you had a crush on?

[18:34 PM] you: But we can't do anything [18:34 PM] joshua: what do you mean ? [18:37 PM] joshua: are you in?

Your stomach dropped.

[18:37 PM] you: Are you outside my door right now?  [18:37 PM] joshua: where else? [18:37 PM] joshua: open up [18:37 PM] you: Let yourself in

You removed your cancellation headphones from your head and attempted to smooth your hair to appear at least decent and not like the little study mouse you were the whole day.

"Bunny? Where are you?" you heard his sweet voice call from the living room.

"In the study," you replied just as Joshua pushed the door open, sneaking his head in first.

"Hi there," he smiled at you sweetly, looking around like a child in a toy shop. "Wow, this room is so... you."

You laughed. "Is that so?"

"I like it," he nodded, looking at the shelves upon shelves stacked with books and clutter, collection toys and figures from your favorite media. Fairy lights on the walls, a couch on the side that hosted your small army of squishmallows that moved the first night that Joshua slept in.

"Thank you," you replied with an excited smile.

"So? What do you mean we can't do 'anything'?," he did bunny ears over the word.

"I'm... going through stuff," you said, making a circle motion with your palm toward your lower belly.

"Oh," he blinked, then cocked his head to one side. "And?"

It was your turn to blink in bewilderment. "What do you mean 'and'? Is it not super gross for men to even hear the word menstruation?"

"Maybe, for some. I don't know. I don't care," he shrugged with ease. "You've never had period sex, I take it?"

"Joshua! No!" you chastised, your stomach fluttering uneasily when he laughed.

His nose wrinkled as he giggled. "Sorry, but you can't expect me to be grossed out by a little blood. I've done it before, if it makes you feel better."

"It does not," you replied with sincerity, crossing your arms and standing from your armchair.

He was wearing what he usually wore when he was home. Sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. His hair was unlike the last time you saw him, it hung loose and you just loved it, it made you want to run your fingers through his dark locks.

"Well, if you don't want to have sex tonight, maybe we can chill instead, if you want," he shrugged as he took some aimless steps in your office room.

Your stomach tightened. "What do you mean?"

"We could watch a movie," his hand brushed his hair distractedly.

"I-I was actually about to go out," you blurted.

"Oh, you were?" his eyes scanned you briefly.

"To the drugstore. I'm... running out of supplies," you muttered, feeling your blood run to your cheeks.

He smirked. "Bunny, you don't have to be shy with me. Come on, I'll come with."

"O-okay," you muttered. "Let me get a bag."

It felt weird to walk down to the drugstore with Joshua strolling by your side. Doing simple ordinary things with him was something new to you, since you only saw him in your bedroom, and occasionally on the rooftop of the building you both live in.

When you found yourself wishing he would take your hand, you dug both your hands on the large pocket of your hoodie.

"How did it go? Your book thing," he asked, breaking the ice.

You smiled at his choice of words. "It went well. They want me working on the second book already."

"Oh, that sounds good," he gave you a gentle smile. "But they don't give you like, time to rest or something like that?"

"Well, I screwed up a bit because I was a little ahead of deadline and told them the second book was in the works, so there's no time to rest," you shrugged.

"I get it," he nodded. "I don't get days off either. It's either recording vocals, writing music, networking or something else."

"Did you have to work yesterday too?" you asked with genuine curiosity.

"I went back to the studio because Jihoon wanted me to re-record some lines. We went on a rabbit hole after that 'cause he's nervous about possibly working with major producers. We're self-produced for now," he smiled and rolled his eyes at the memory.

"Was it good though, at the end?"

"Oh, yeah. The perfectionist he is, he didn't stop until he okayed it," he nodded and opened the door of the drugstore for you and you muttered a word of thanks. "And the day before... Sunday. Yeah, I normally go out with my mom—or try to."

"Oh?" you pushed your eyebrows up. "What did you do this time?"

"We had lunch and then visited a botanical garden. Drove her home after that," he told you with an absent smile, probably remembering his day with his mom.

Your heart swelled with fondness. "That sounds really nice, Joshua," you replied, trying not to show the emotion you felt.

"Yeah," he seemed to snap himself from his train of thought, looking up to the aisles. "I don't know where I'm going, I'm following you."

You laughed. "Don't worry, you won't get lost baby boy," you said with an air of confidence as you turned to the aisle where you'd find what you needed.

"Did you just call me baby boy?" he giggled goofily.

You ignored him, throwing in the basket your supplies.

"You told me you needed supplies, bunny. What's this?" he said, looking up to the shelves. "Snacks?"

"These are my supplies," you said with a whine. "Don't judge me."

"I'm not judging," he lifted his palms to your view. "Whatever you need."

"I actually do need to collect something from the counter," you said, fishing your prescription from your pocket but not showing it to him.

"Oh, are you sick?" he inquired as he followed you out of the snacks section and toward the counter.

You kindly handed your prescription to the lady and she handed back birth control pills. Then when it was time to pay, you tried to hide your blushing face to Joshua, who could probably notice your natural shyness kicking in, no matter if he stood behind your back.

"Are you on the pill? Why did you never tell me?" he muttered beside you as you both walked out of the drugstore with your bag full of supplies.

"Not yet," you frowned, though your face felt hot. "In theory and according to this, I begin today," you told him, keeping your eyes glued to the sidewalk.

"I see," he replied, seemingly thoughtful. But then, he asked: "So we're watching movies tonight?"

"Yeah, that'd be nice," you admitted. "It's been ages since I watched a movie at home—or at the cinema, for that matter."

"Cinema," he smiled. "Sometimes I forget that you're an old lady."

"Shut up, Joshua," you scoffed but couldn't help the growing smile on your face.

The only way you could describe your apartment was something akin to a fortress: never short of food or supplies, you had everything you ever needed for entertainment, you worked there most of the time. You were lucky to have made it your little fortress—and well, also you worked hard to keep it that way.

When you got back home with Joshua, you freshened up in the bathroom and changed into comfier clothes and brought a blanket to the living room, where you had a decent tv screen.

"What do you prefer for tonight, princess?" Joshua asked as you returned to the living room wearing your comfiest attire.

"Aren't you choosing tonight?" you asked as you sat beside him on your couch and threw the blanket over your legs.

"What, you're not sharing?" he asked, looking at your fluffy blanket.

"I can bring another blanket for you," you blurted, feeling deeply embarrassed.

"What if I only want to share yours?" he pouted cutely, he even made puppy eyes.

Don't torture me like that, your inner voice pleaded to him. 

"I- we can share," you smiled abashedly. "Sorry, I just didn't think-"

"I'm just playing with you, bunny," he laughed merrily.

You stopped cold. "I- what do I do?" you blurted. "Do you want to share or not?"

"Oh, you sweet thing. Alright, let's share," he exhaled. "We're watching horror, then."

"O-okay," you muttered, feeling deeply flustered at the whole exchange.

The blanket covered you and Joshua perfectly. It was large enough to cover your whole bed. So you confidently propped your feet bundled up in fluffy socks on your coffee table without the blanket falling off or uncovering Joshua.

"You can do the same," you suggested to him after he saw you put your feet up on the surface of your otherwise neat coffee table.

"You're weird," he muttered, but followed you nonetheless, extending his large legs on the coffee table with yours.

"Why?" you frowned.

"You don't seem like the person who would tolerate feet on a table," he laughed. "But you always prove me wrong in something."

You felt your cheeks grow hotter. "What- why? Why does that make me weird? I just wanted to stretch my legs."

"I'm not saying it's a bad thing," he shrugged. "I mean, your apartment is always super clean and you're a bit haughty about certain things so I just thought-"

"I am not haughty!" you gasped.

"Ah, there we go again," he let out his high pitch giggle.

"Shut up, Joshua. You're not perfect either," you muttered with a pout.

"I know, sweetheart," he laughed harder.

"You-you're cocky," you blurted. "You're... you're..."

Joshua arched his eyebrows, waiting for your best worst descriptor.

But you just sighed: "God, you might be perfect."

He laughed harder. "Are you sure you're not ill? Let's take you to the doctor," he joked.

You scoffed. "Ugh, I'll take it back. You're the worst."

"I'm anything but perfect, baby. Far from it, actually. But I appreciate your lukewarm compliment," he said, sliding a hand under the blanket and finding your thigh, to which he gave a gentle squeeze.

With a jolt, you rose from the couch, visibly startling him. "I almost forgot my snacks! D-do you want something to drink?"

You hid yourself in your kitchen and heard his distant reply. "I'll have whatever you're having."

A silent sigh escaped you. You needed to find some kind of rein to your emotions when Joshua was around you.

"Does hot tea and milk sound okay?" you asked.

"Sounds great. Thanks," you heard.

You returned with a tray with two mugs and a plate full of your favorite sweet snacks. Joshua frowned slightly then you set the tray between you and him, setting a clear barrier between you two.

If he noticed you were creating some distance, he didn't say anything. And you silently thanked him for it.

Joshua chose a horror movie. If he did it because he enjoyed horror, he didn't look the part, not one bit. His face wore a frown in disgust throughout the whole thing—and it wasn't only because of gory depictions.

The film was deeply disturbing, to anyone in their right mind, it would seem. But you occasionally giggled at certain moments when Joshua flinched or even jumped on the couch. You never bat an eye, you even found the story a bit flimsy, reliant in shock value and with very evident plot holes.

"That was... something," you muttered as the credits rolled on the screen.

"You are scary," he told you, still looking deeply startled.

You let out a laugh. "Why?"

"You laughed when the lady found out that her daughter was dead!" he pointed with an obvious tone.

"What, it was funny," you shrugged. "I dunno, the face she made was funny. Thought it was a weird cry face."

His mouth parted, frown deepening. "That's psycho talk," he shook his head.

"Chill, it's just a movie," you huffed.

"You pick next time," he rolled his eyes. "But let's not watch horror in a while. I've had my fill."

You laughed. "You want me to hold you?" you teased.

"Yeah, that would be nice. Please and thank you," he mumbled in a low tone.

You realized he seemed serious for a moment. "Wait, you're not joking?"

"Yeah, I am," he laughed. "Unless you want to, though," he nodded at you with a cheeky smile that could only mean that he was now teasing you.

"I'm fine, thanks," you shook your head. "I don't find cultish things scary."

"What do you find scary, then?" he inquired, he leaned his head back on the sofa and turned to see you.

You were eating on your snacks. You were not hungry, just felt the need to keep your hands and mouth busy.

"I... don't know," you replied after a long minute.

"Interesting," he muttered.

"What is?"

"You are," he frowned slightly.

"Were you expecting me to curl up in a ball and ask you to hold me?" you taunted.

"Kind of? Yeah," he said, his eyebrows arched a bit.

"Well, maybe we can keep searching for the one horror movie that makes me want to do that," you suggested with a playful smile on your face.

He narrowed his eyes. "Oh, you might be a bit crazy," he joked. "Lucky for you, I'm a bit crazy too."

"Oh, yeah? And why does that make me the lucky one?"

"Because I might say yes," he muttered with a smirk.

"Deal it is, then," you lifted your chin almost proudly and tended your hand to him.

He shook it contentedly. "Deal. But not tonight, though. Maybe in a month—or two."

Your chest tightened at the sound of that. Time with him, making plans, made your heart flutter in your chest.

"Sure, whenever you're ready, baby boy," you replied with a grin.

He closed his eyes slowly. "God, why did I do to deserve this," he muttered with a downturned smile.

You rolled your eyes, then threw the blanket off your legs. "Bathroom break," you announced for the nth time, since during the movie you had a few. "I'll be back."

When you finally returned, Joshua was fast asleep on your couch, breathing deeply with his arms crossed on his chest.

The sight of it was warm, almost too cute to even process. You felt the urge to grab his cheeks and pinch them or squeeze the air out of his lungs.

Maybe you are crazy.

You picked up the tray from the couch, the barrier that kept his hands away from you and placed it on the kitchen counter, deciding to clean up the following morning.

Deciding on what to do with the large man asleep on your couch, you sat quietly beside him. Twiddling with your fingers. Should you wake him and tell him to go home? Should you suggest that he stay the night? He lived right next door, he could just walk to his bed in less than a minute.

But you wanted him to stay with you.

Then suddenly, he jerked awake with a loud grunt, throwing his hands at you like big claws. "Bwaaah!"

You let out a screech in sheer terror at having him give you the scare of your life. "Goddamnit, Joshua!" you slapped him on his shoulder repeatedly.

He laughed himself silly. "Got you," he muttered with teary eyes, not even trying to dodge or cover himself from your attacks.

"Yeah, yeah," you stuck out your tongue at him, making him laugh harder again.

"You're too cute," he said, wiping a tear from his eye.

"Screw you," you pouted.

He rolled his eyes. "Oof, don't go around saying that. You potty mouth," he teased with a grin still plastered on his stupidly beautiful face.

You scoffed, but fell short of witty replies to give him.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly.

It took you two seconds to understand what he was referring to.

"Oh, I'm okay. Well, not okay but I just don't feel like dying yet," you muttered with an offhanded air.

He pouted cutely. "I'm going to pretend I know what that means."

Joshua was a few inches away from you, just at hand's reach, but you didn't dare touch him. Even if you were dying to.

You laughed. "I'm fine, Joshua. I can deal with the pain just fine."

"Oh, okay," he shrugged slightly. "I was about to offer a back rub, but given that you're okay..."

"I'd like that," you nodded, feeling your cheeks grow hotter. "I'd like that very much, please."

Joshua grinned. "Lie down, princess," he instructed, patting on his thigh once to indicate the place where he wanted you to lie your head.

You did so, lying on your tummy, head resting on his thigh and stretching your legs on the sofa. His large hands started massaging softly on your lower back, over your comfy clothes.

"Oh, oh? That feels good," you exclaimed, feeling bewildered. "You're really good at this."

"Why do you sound surprised?" he asked and you darted a look at his face, he flashed you a grin as he caught your eye.

"I-I'm not—well a little," you muttered as his hand pressed softly on your lower back alleviating the stress from the cramping you've had all day.

You scrunched up your face when he got to a region that activated your nerves, it didn't exactly hurt, but it made you clench your muscles in response.

"Does that hurt, bunny?" he muttered.

"It feels weird," you replied. "Keep going."

You heard a soft chuckle. "Do you like this?"

He used both hands to rub your lower back, fingers digging at the sides of your hips, applying just the right amount of pressure to your skin to make you groan in satisfaction.

"Yeah. Feels so good," you muttered, closing your eyes.

You could feel yourself letting loose, so much that you weren't aware when you fell asleep on his lap. What woke you up with a start was feeling your drool dripping from your parted lips and onto his lap.

The back rubs had stopped, in fact everything had stilled and when you darted a look up, you found Joshua asleep, still in the same sitting position he was when he was giving you back rubs.

It was 2 AM, you suspected that you had fallen asleep around 11 PM. So Joshua didn't dare move under the risk of waking you up.

He slowly stirred after noticing that you had moved from his lap.

"Hi there," he whispered groggily with the ghost of a smile.

"Let's go to bed," you muttered, not caring that you could simply tell him to go home.

You got up from your couch and dragged him along, silently thanking him for not protesting against your wishes.

He took off his large t-shirt as you threw the bed covers and climbed your bed before he did.

"What?" you asked when you saw him standing by the foot of the bed, his bare torso exposed to your view.

"Do you have an issue if I sleep in my briefs only?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You laughed. "Please. We've slept naked before," you muttered, but he didn't budge. "Yeah, 'm okay with it."

He took his sweatpants off and climbed to your bed, lying next to you.

You instinctively scooted closer to him and he smiled, sliding an arm under your body to drag your body so that now his chest was pressed to your back, his arms circling you so he was practically hugging you from behind.

"Are you feeling better?" he muttered, his nose slightly bumping the back of your ear.

"Yeah. Thank you Shua," you replied, snuggling in his embrace.

"Here to help," he whispered before pressing his lips on your hair.

The rest of the week went smoothly.

Joshua had taken a liking to texting you when you least expected him to. Sometimes, he'd ask random questions, just to taunt you and make you blush. As if he knew the effect he had on you even without interacting with him in person.

[18:23 PM] joshua: are you free tonight princess? [18:23 PM] joshua: wait don't tell me [18:23 PM] joshua: you're working

You had been keeping him at bay all week by telling him you have to outline book two of your trilogy. Which was true, you unburied some old drafts, but decided that given the fact that book one underwent a lot of changes, book two would have to adopt those changes too.

But the reason why you made yourself busy was to keep yourself away from him. You were too nervous to face him again after that Tuesday night—in which you purely hung out together, no sex.

You let out a sigh.

[18:24 PM] you: I'm free tonight  [18:24 PM] you: Why?

It was now Saturday. You hadn't expected to see Joshua that night, since he usually had something planned during the weekend.

That being said, you totally weren't expecting a call from him.

"Yes?"

"God, you might be an old lady. Who answers the phone by saying 'yes'?" you heard him laugh.

"I'm hanging up," you cooed, trying to hide your smile.

God, how can he get you this flustered already?

"Wait, wait," you heard a giggle. "What are you wearing right now?"

"Really? Really, Joshua?" you gasped.

"No, wait I mean—don't hang up. I'm picking you up in an hour. We're going out," he told you, and you could tell that he was walking hurriedly, his breath hitching up as the buzz from the street filtered through the phone.

Your stomach dropped. "What, where? Jesus, give me some warning next time," you stood up from your desk and went to your bedroom.

"I am giving you a warning, right now. We have a gig tonight and it's a big thing for me. I want you to be there," he spoke in a lower tone, as if not wanting anyone else to hear.

"Well, I'm in my pyjamas. Hope that's fine with you," you joked. You were in fact not wearing pyjamas, but comfy clothes.

"The bunny pjs?" he inquired in a lower tone, but you could tell that he was smiling. "Oh no, sweetheart. I love to see you in that but I'm afraid that's not going to do."

"Well that's what you're getting," you smiled despite the blood rushing to your cheeks.

"Come on, baby. Wear something nice for me?" he purred into your ear. 

You sighed in pure delight and felt lucky that he wasn't there to see that you were aroused already.

"What do you want me to wear?" you almost mewled, not caring about how lewd you sounded.

"Whatever you want, princess. You look good in anything," he muttered.

"I'll wear something cute," you responded, your voice high and almost sweet for him. "And I'll wear something underneath for you only, if you want."

"Fuck, I'm getting hard already," you heard him sigh.

Your eyes widened. "Really?" your voice rose an octave higher. "Why?" you asked innocently.

"Just thinking about you gets me hard," he groaned, but you could tell he was smiling by the sound of his voice.

"Joshua! You're in public! Don't say those things aloud," you chastised him, but couldn't ignore that hearing that made you instantly wet and your core flutter in excitement at his words.

"I just got to my car, princess. Calm down," he laughed faintly. "No one can hear me here. Or see."

"Well, in that case, I'm really, really wet for you right now," you muttered with a sigh as you sat on your bed and slowly lied down.

"Fuck, baby. I love hearing you say that," he purred in a raw tone.

"Yeah? What else do you love hearing me say?" you dared ask.

Maybe your newfound confidence was due to the fact that he wasn't present in your bedroom right now. Your heart was thumping hard against your chest, and your face felt hot at the daring words that were escaping your mouth.

But you didn't care, all your focus was on the voice in your ear.

"I love the way you say my name," he confessed almost sheepishly, as if he was almost admitting that to himself.

"Shua?" you asked, playing dumb. 

"No, no. That's not my name, baby," he muttered in a tone of false reprimand.

"Joshua," you smiled.

"Mmm yeah. I love hearing you say my name. Love it when that's all you can say while I fuck you silly," he admitted, his voice dangerously low.

"Mmm, yeah?" you echoed as your free hand sneaked beneath the band of your sweatpants, burying itself beneath your soaked panties.

You let out a mewling sound when your fingers found your already pooling core.

"Are you touching yourself, princess?" he asked after he heard you sigh in pleasure.

"Yeah," you admitted. Your wet fingertips had already started rubbing circles around your swelling clit. "Wanna come and see for yourself?"

"Fuuuck," you heard him sigh heavily. "I'm a bit far away right now. But I'd love to be there, princess."

"Can y-you talk to me?" you asked with a tiny voice then bit your lip to avoid moaning louder, feeling your legs starting to tense up.

"Are you touching yourself with your fingers?" he asked and you said yes. "God. I'd love to see that one day."

"Yeah? Why?" you asked with a frown.

"I think it's really fucking hot. I want to see you play with your toys until you're spent," he sighed and you imagined him smiling. "I want to hear you say my name while you do it, too."

"You think that I think of you when I touch myself?" you dared ask again as your fingers gently swirled around your sensitive bud.

"You don't?" he bit back.

"Yeah, I do," you admitted despite yourself. "How did you know?"

"Just a small hunch," he sighed, is he smiling?

"I always think of you when I come. I imagine it's you that's making me come," you blurted.

"I'm right next door," he groaned. "You know you can just tell me and I'll be there."

"But what if it's super late?" you pried.

"I don't care,"  he confessed with a low groan.

"Are you touching yourself too?" you asked with a high pitch whine.

"I can't. Not unless I want to be charged for public indecency," he muttered and you could tell he was smiling.

"Are y-you hard?" you asked as your fingers pinched your swollen and slick covered clit.

"Yeah, baby. I am," he sighed. "You've been ignoring me a little this week," he laughed.

Your heart clenched and a moan escaped your lips as your fingers toyed with your clit. "Y-you're not seeing other people, then?"

"You're asking me right now if I'm fucking other girls?" he muttered with a groan that didn't denote his arousal anymore. "Why would I want to do that?"

"I dunno, I figured-"

"You're the only one I'm fucking. I haven't been with anyone else since you," he muttered reproachfully. "We've talked about this before—does this get you off, baby? Do you like to hear that you're the only girl I want?"

"Yeah," you admitted, shutting your eyes close as your body responded with a wave of heat at the sound of his words, you groaned and twitched in your bed a little.

"Is my pretty girl possessive? Is that it?" he muttered again, and in your inner eye you saw him grinning like an idiot.

"Yes, I am," you gasped as your fingers pressed on your clit and massaged it in the only way you knew would get you closer to your sweet release.

"Oh, you greedy, greedy little thing," he tutted. "Are you close, baby? By the way you're breathing I can only assume that-"

"Yes, 'm close, Joshua," you whimpered, your fingers working faster on your clit.

"I wish I could see that right now," he replied. "You don't know how much I've needed you this week."

"Fuck," your legs twitched and a moan coiled in your throat.

"I'd have you every day of the week if you let me, baby," he let out a stressed sigh. "Don't think I would rather have someone else before you."

"Joshua-," you muttered in a broken moan, trying to bite your lip as you came on your fingers, gasping and whining as the wave of pure bliss washed over you, making your jaw go slack and let out his name in low whimpers.

"I know, baby," he muttered as he heard your moans: "I know."

Your body went limp after a long minute and you slowly came back to your senses.

"God, that was embarrassing," you sighed to yourself, moving your hand out of your pants.

He giggled. "Why?"

"I—never mind," you rolled your eyes. "See you in a bit?"

"See you in a bit, bunny," was the last thing he said before you hung up.

The cold shower you had afterwards served two purposes: a cold slap back to reality and a reflection on your crazy toxic behavior.

Joshua was not your boyfriend. So what if he were fucking other people? Even if he were, you didn't have a say in it. You were just fuckbuddies.

You decided to wear something you thought never would, something you bought on a whim. A little black dress that hugged your body in a flattering way and accentuated your beautiful body, it showed some cleavage, but you felt confident enough to wear it now.

You waited in your living room for Joshua, tapping your fingers impatiently and checking your phone every now and then until you heard him knock, and you ran to get your door.

Joshua pushed through the door, grabbing you instantly by the waist and pushing you to the nearest surface where he could sit you down. The table felt cold against your ass when he set you down harshly, making the skirt of your dress fly up as he slotted himself between your legs.

"I'd take you right here on this table if we didn't have to be somewhere else right now," he said in a low tone, grabbing your chin with his fingers.

"Please do," you urged as his lips locked on yours chastely. "Fuck me, please Joshua, please."

"I think it's your turn to wait now," he muttered with a grin.

"But I need it, please," you whined, wrapping your legs around him.

"Touching yourself an hour ago wasn't enough, baby?" he lifted your chin to angle your head for him to press his lips to your own.

"No. You know it wasn't," you mewled. "I want you to fuck me. Right now," you moaned with a sigh.

Your fingers hooked on the hem of his black jeans and pulled him toward you, sliding his zipper down and undoing the button in one move.

"Fuck baby," he muttered in awe at your wild behaviour as your hand slid beneath his jeans to find him already hard beneath his underwear.

"I need you," you whined, ignoring the awe-struck look on his face.

He grabbed both your wrists and pulled them out of his pants, firmly clasping them together, his hand was large enough to secure them together in his fist as the other hand grabbed you by the jaw gently.

"You have some nerve after ignoring me all week," he muttered darkly. "Now you'll have to wait baby until I say so. Can you do that, sweetheart?"

You looked at his lust-lidded eyes bore into you and his smile slowly appeared on his face as you nodded.

"I can wait," you replied with an innocent tone.

"That's my girl," he cooed and sighed into your lips as he captured them with his own, giving you a heated kiss.

You broke the kiss abruptly and brought up a finger to caress his lower lip that was covered now with your saliva.

"You can fuck me raw now, Joshua," you whispered with a soft smile, almost kicking your feet in the air as you still sat on your table.

The audacity that possessed you to say that was totally new to you, it showed up in your crazy outbursts of assertiveness every time you were near him. Maybe you felt confident enough to be like that with him.

He shuddered slightly, but it was enough for you to see. "We're never getting there if you keep going, princess," he pressed his forehead against yours.

"So you're going to?" you asked, your voice dropped to a whisper.

"If that's what you want, baby," he muttered.

He was already breathing hard, his hands had dropped on your bare thighs, where he had started to knead on your skin anxiously.

"I want to," you replied instantly. "I need you to."

"You're killing me right now," he laughed softly before fixing his pants. "We need to go now, or we'll be regrettably late."

"Fine," you sighed. "Let's go."

He grabbed your head with his hands before crashing his lips with yours briefly but heatedly.

"Let's go," he muttered.

The ride there was longer than you expected. Joshua told you beforehand that his bandmates were already at the location where the event was going to be held.

And as he drove there, he started to get more and more jittery: anxiously licking his lips and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Are you okay, Shua?" you asked. "You're quiet."

He sent a look your way, but focused on the road ahead. "I'm okay. Just a bit nervous."

You gave him a reassuring smile, although he didn't get the chance to see it. "It's going to be fine. You'll see," you tried to comfort him by placing a hand flatly on his thigh.

He gently grabbed your hand and took it to his lips, pressing them on your knuckles. "Thank you, bunny. That's why I'm bringing you with me tonight."

Your heart fluttered a little. "Yeah? Why is that?"

"You give me good luck," he smirked.

You snorted, trying to play it cool. "You're so corny," you muttered.

He flashed you a downturned smile, briefly looking your way. "Shut up, I'm trying to flirt with you."

"Why? You're driving, there's not much we can do," you laughed, but then your laugh fainted. "Unless you want me to do something for you."

He blinked slowly as he let out a soft laugh. "Are you suggesting to blow me, baby?" he asked incredulously, glancing your way.

You shrugged. "Mmm, yeah. I thought that's where this conversation was headed."

"God, you are terrible at flirting," he said with a low chuckle, but you couldn't ignore how he leaned his head back and shifted on the seat a bit.

"Yeah, shocking," you smiled.

Joshua frowned, but didn't press any further. "I'd accept your proposition," he smiled slightly. "But we're arriving in about two minutes."

"I feel like there's a joke to be made here," you muttered with a smile.

His jaw dropped slightly. "Oh, no. Don't," he laughed.

"I just need one minute," you burst out laughing by the end of the joke.

He rolled his eyes briefly, but his smile was the biggest you've seen. "You have the humor of a child," he said while shaking his head.

You collected yourself, feigning to brush a tear from the corner of your eye.

"Are you done?" he asked, looking torn between amused and disappointed by your bad joke.

"Come on, laugh a little," you pushed his shoulder slightly.

Your joke wasn't even remotely funny, you knew that, but Joshua was still smiling when he parked in a large parking lot There were a lot of cars around and people gathering and walking in groups towards the entrance of a park.

"Where are we?" you asked as you unclasped your seatbelt.

Joshua appeared to be in a hurry, probably reverting back to his state of anxiousness after being distracted successfully by you. "Come on, bunny."

He jumped out of his large jeep and went around it to get your door.

"Oh, what a gentleman. Thanks," you smiled as he offered you a hand to climb down.

"Here," he muttered as his hands clasped on what appeared to be an access pass, which he put around your neck.

"Oh? Thank you, Joshua," you grabbed the tag to read that it was an all access pass.

"Don't mention it," you looked up to see a light smile on his face. "Follow me."

He led you to the side entrance which was fenced off, a sign at the entrance reading "AUTHORIZED ONLY" and you practically followed him through the maze of sound and lighting equipment carefully arranged on the floor.

There was a lot to be on the lookout for as you tried to keep up with him. There were rows of cables taped or secured to the ground that you almost tripped over.

Joshua seemed to notice your struggle and reached out to grab your hand firmly. "Careful, princess," he showed you a downturned smile, jittery eyes glancing down to his large hand grabbing yours. "Is this okay?"

You felt your heartbeat on your throat as you could only muster up a nod. "Yeah," you breathed, holding onto his hand.

The place he was walking through and to which he was practically dragging you with him was a large tent with long tables, people gathered around, chatting and drinking.

The smell of weed and tobacco permeated the air, laughter and the hum of the crowd with that of the music in the distance filled your ears.

"There you are, Shuji—oh, I see why you're late," Jihoon politely nodded your way and waved.

"Hi," you waved back shyly.

Joshua released your hand gently, smoothly using it to fix his dark hair with a labored sigh. "I thought I was on time," he frowned. "Isn't our go in an hour?"

"Yes, but we were asked for our instruments for soundcheck half an hour ago," the drummer shook his head nervously.

"And?" Joshua smiled playfully. "Did you need me to do that?"

"No, I don't need you, I'm just—forget it. In thirty minutes we go backstage for them to mic us up," he informed, just as jittery as you saw Joshua some minutes ago.

"Got it. Thanks Jihoon," he nodded and then turned to you. "You get drinks and food with your pass. I have to stay here, but you're free if you want to explore the festival," he tugged at the access pass hanging on your neck.

"Right, okay," you pressed your lips into a smile.

"We can meet back here once our gig is over," he offered. "Or I can join you where you are."

You looked up at his doe eyes. "You're going to do great, Joshua," you smiled reassuringly.

God, you wanted to kiss him so bad. In front of everyone, you didn't care who saw. But you also felt pathetic, anxiously eyeing his plump lips then back at his curious eyes.

He read you well. With a soft smile, his hand slid in the nape of your neck to hold you in place as he dipped his head to kiss you sweetly, one peck, then another. A sigh falling on your parted lips as he tenderly slid his lips in between your own.

"I'll be in the crowd," you promised with the faintest voice.

"I'll look for you," he smiled slightly at you, meeting your gaze with such fondness that you almost forgot where you were.

"I better be there then," you smirked at him, trying to contain your eagerness.

"Look at you being flirty with me," his smile grew and you almost died inside when his eyes turned into two crescent moons from how happy he looked.

"I–that wasn't flirting," you stuttered. "I'd better get going so you can get ready," you pulled away awkwardly.

Your heart sank as the smile on his face slowly faded.

Joshua looked at you the way he always did when he figured you out, but just nodded with his head, if he had anything else to say, he kept it to himself.

"See you in a bit?" he asked with a playful smile.

"See you in a bit, Shua," you smiled back and turned around and followed your way back through the crowds of artists and crew men and women and into the actual music festival.

The sun had already dipped, the chill of the air in the beautiful park surrounded by tall trees seemed to be setting in despite the huge crowds of people amassing around the stages, those which were three in total.

In your little exploration around the merch and food stalls, you found out that Midnight Haze were presenting on the main stage, two bands before the headliners. So that's why Joshua looked reasonably anxious: this was hugely important for a local band such as his.

You thought that this could prove an opportunity for them to be scouted for plenty more gigs. And you hoped that would be the case. You honestly wished for his band to have more recognition, they deserved it.

You explored all the food stalls, not feeling really hungry but yet indulging in what appealed to you the most. Everything was free for you, having an all access pass circling your neck, but you didn't feel the need to overuse it.

Except for strawberry mojitos, you were sipping on the third one by the time you circled back toward the big stage, showing your pass to security and they pointed you to the VIP section, directly in front of the stage where Joshua's mic stand stood.

Behind the mic stand the stage crew rolled a platform with Jihoon's bright red drum set, surrounded by a number of large cymbals. The crew expertly made a brief soundcheck and left. Your stomach tightened in excitement for the members of Midnight Haze, not just Joshua.

It seemed they had a plan, Jihoon stepped on the stage first, walking to the platform the crew had set with his large drum set. He sat on the stool and shifted a bit, finding his preferred way of sitting.

You spotted Vernon's bass guitar carefully placed on a guitar stand. It was white and had stickers all over it, some of them had washed over around the pickup area. When he picked it up and threw the red strap around his shoulder he also seemed to shift and get ready.

The crowd pushed you softly around as the people around you moved to get closer to the fences. Even if you stood in the VIP section, it was completely packed, the murmur of the crowd rose, some people whistled loudly impatiently.

When Joshua stepped under the stage lights, the crowd went completely insane. The large screens framing the stage showed the full stage, now complete with the lead singer as he grabbed a white guitar, lifting the strap to place it on one of his shoulders.

Joshua turned around and you saw him nodding his head at Jihoon, who returned the gesture at him to then raise his arms in the air to clash his drumsticks three times before starting off with a loud bang.

The booming sound of the towers of speakers filled your body, vibrating in your insides and making your bones feel the energy that instantly ignited the crowd, including you.

Midnight Haze started their set with one of their songs you liked the most. And you were pleased to see that Joshua smiled as he sang to the lyrics of the song.

The electrifying presence of the lead singer was so mind boggling to you, for a second it didn't seem like you were seeing your next door neighbor singing and playing his guitar as he danced side to side, banging his head slightly to the beat.

People screamed and applauded as the first song came to its end and Joshua bowed his head politely. Then he paused to remove one of his in-ear pieces to listen to the cheering of the crowd properly. He approached the stand, wrapping one hand around the mic.

"How's it going Rock Fest?" his voice boomed with excitement, a small chuckle came out of his plump lips when the crowd responded with wordless screams.

"We're Midnight Haze and we're really excited to be here," Joshua spoke into the mic, his starry eyes lost in the sea of faces, marveling at the sight of how extensive the crowd was.

"I want to see you all singing and dancing. Come on!" he screamed energetically just as the music swept in again.  

You cheerily sung along all of the songs in their set list, swaying your body mindlessly from side to side, looking over at the stage where Joshua also sang and played his guitar.

He looked devastatingly beautiful. His big eyes closed briefly, his brow furrowing slightly in focus, the vein in his neck popping up as he sang his lungs out.

The stage lights bathed his face with red and pink lights as the music wrapped him in a moment for his guitar solo, he looked hypnotic to you, almost heavenly.

You were so attracted to him you felt like a moth flying straight into the flame. You simply couldn't contain your urge to grab your phone and snap a photo of the moment.

God, you're screwed for life, you realized as you watched him.

Their setlist was about to come to a wrap after another one of your favorite songs ended on a strenuous note and Joshua's eyes went through the sea of faces. The stage lights danced around and pointed at the crowd at the same time his eyes zeroed on you, his brow relaxed and he smiled slightly.

"We've come to our last song," he spoke into the mic, his smile broadening when the crowd responded in wordless discontent. "We thank you for being here and for being such an amazing crowd," he paused, seemingly enjoying the roar of the sea of people in front of him. "We were Midnight Haze. Thank you, Rock Fest!!"

They started playing what their last song was, which was a song that you didn't know yet and apparently was a new song, since no one around you seemed to sing along with Joshua, who kept his big smile throughout as he sang and danced around the stage with his guitar.

He looked at you once as he strolled with his guitar directly in front of you. The people standing behind you screamed in your ears and you smiled at the sheer commotion he caused just by stopping by.

You twiddled your fingers at him, which he caught immediately and nodded his head at you, smiling tiredly with his tongue dangling between his chapped lips.

"He's so fucking hot oh my god," someone said with a raw voice from screaming, you turned and you saw two girls holding each other in excitement from the brief exchange.

It was amusing to think that you weren't the only one subdued by the beauty of the lead singer. It was also somewhat amusing that you were exhilarated at the fact that he singled you out from the crowd, but obviously no one around you knew that.

Joshua returned to the mic to sing the last verse, to then thank the other two members of Midnight Haze and say goodbye, promptly leaving the stage as the crowd screamed and applauded for them.

You quickly made your way out of the VIP section and found the nearest entrance back to the tent where you last saw Joshua. There were still some people hanging out in the tent, though admittedly not as many stuck around, possibly enjoying the festival and the food.

When Joshua came back, he looked a mixture of euphoric, tired and happy. As he spotted you, he opened his arms in excitement and you threw yourself in his embrace, lifting you in the air as your lips met briefly in an affectionate kiss.

"You were amazing," you told him, looking at his face briefly before he returned you to the ground.

Then you slowly came to your senses and stepped back from him slightly.

"You think so?" he asked, unaware of your sudden change in behavior. "Cause that felt amazing! That was the largest crowd we've ever performed for."

Your heart swelled at seeing him so excited, he grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you and you laughed at the crazed energy he still had from the stage.

"Come with me," he grabbed you by your hand as he led you out of the tent and to an even larger tent that was more crowded than the one you just left and right behind the stage.

It looked somewhat like a private party, the people in there, the majority of them, looked already intoxicated. The atmosphere was one of fun and a bit of mischief, however, you couldn't help but think that the energy of the packed room wasn't exactly inviting. Despite being hand in hand with the lead singer of one of the bands that had just come off the stage.

Your innate shy behavior kicked in, and you partially hid yourself behind Joshua, lowering your gaze as people not only looked at him, but also noticed you.

Joshua finally found the rest of his bandmates, who were already drinking a beer and talking about the very fresh experience. Jihoon, naturally, was retelling everything that just happened to a couple of faces you've never met before.

"Ah, there you are, Josh," one of them said, which was a woman. "We were wondering about you."

"Sorry, I had to go collect her," he nodded towards you. He then introduced you to the couple of strangers by name. "They're Chaewon and Taewon, from Wilted Willows."

"Hi," you waved at them, pressing your lips into a shy smile. You briefly saw the last bits of their performance, which was very unlike Midnight Haze's.

Chaewon's dark eyes scanned you up and down, making the hairs on the back of your neck prickle.

"Is she your new girlfriend?" she asked bluntly, her eyes moving from your face to Joshua's face.

"Oof, this is going to get weird," Jihoon muttered beside you and sipped from his can of coke zero.

Joshua released your hand. "No," he responded flatly, clearly setting a boundary between him and Chaewon. Then you felt his arm sliding on your shoulders, pulling your body into a tight side hug. "Not yet, at least."

Your stomach dropped, your gaze met his and he immediately winked an eye at you, a thing for your eyes to see only.

"Mmph," the girl flipped her luscious blue hair aside. "When you get bored of that, you know where to find me."

It happened fast: Chaewon took a step forward, her lithe fingers reached out to Joshua's chin, and he instantly pulled back with a flinch, his arm pulling you closer to him as an act of instinctive protectiveness.

Looking deeply startled and just about when he seemed like he was going to tell her off, she left and her bandmate had no choice but to leave with her after the deeply alarming exchange.

Joshua released a labored sigh. "Seriously, Jihoon?" he dropped the arm from your shoulders.

"What, they came to me," he shrugged. "I didn't know she was going to pull all that."

"Who is she... is she your ex?" you asked, trying to appear fine and controlled.

"No. God, no," Joshua shook his head furiously. "She's just really self-absorbed."

"She is also obsessed with Shua. Crazy stalker level of obsession," Jihoon explained briefly.

"Ah," you frowned.

The only reason why you thought she might've been Joshua's ex was because of how comfortable she was to attempt to put her hands on him.

Even if she were his ex, she overstepped by trying to touch him like that.

"Fucking hell," Jihoon muttered to himself, spotting something in between the groups of people. "Vernon's getting fucked up again."

Jihoon left abruptly, towards the direction of the bassist. Leaving you and Joshua alone. 

"I'm so sorry about that," Joshua's face had contorted into a frown. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you smiled calmly despite yourself, trying to not let your anger show. "That was unsettling."

"Yeah, I agree. Really disturbing," he sighed again, running a hand through his dark hair.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with that, Joshua," you offered with a downturned smile.

"Don't be," he shook his head. "I'm more worried about you, she undermined you and I couldn't say anything about it."

"But I'm unaffected," you countered. "Her problem is not with me, that much is evident."

He flashed you a relaxed smile. "Sorry about the girlfriend stuff, I panicked."

A sudden painful feeling made you almost flinch. "Don't worry, Shua. I would've panicked a little too."

But you were thankful that he was being honest. He still looked agitated from the unfortunate exchange, but his shoulders went slack when you reached out to grab his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Hey, don't let that ruin your night," you told him encouragingly.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine," he frowned.

"You want me to fuck her up?" you asked bluntly.

His doe eyes widened. "What?!" then he understood you were joking and laughed hard, almost bending over with laughter. "Where did that come from?"

You broke your act and smiled at him. "I wanted to make you laugh. It worked," you shrugged.

"You fighting... now that would be fun to see," he admitted with a smile. "Fun and weird. Can't imagine you doing that."

"Well, don't try me," you quipped.

He chuckled again, brushing a tear from his eye.

A bunch of people stopped by to say hi to him and you stood idly by, watching Joshua expertly navigate through small talks, compliments and questions. And though you mostly didn't get attention within these exchanges, you were happy to be there, experiencing him.

"You are famous," you pointed, impressed by the amount of people that came to say hello and even take pictures with him.

"I'm not famous, bunny. This is kind of a network, everyone here knows everyone," he explained, but the tip of his ears were red.

"Right," you scoffed. "I don't see a lot of people asking others for their photo."

He rolled his eyes. "Shut up, it makes me feel weird."

"Are you blushing?" you gasped dramatically. "The Joshua Hong is blushing?!"

He arched his pierced eyebrow at you. "Don't make fun of me," he muttered shyly but you just couldn't help but laugh at how cute he looked when flustered. 

"Aw, baby boy is shy?" you pouted at him.

He blinked slowly, biting his lower lip to attempt and stop his smile. "This is the last time I bring you to something like this."

You simply continued. "Can I get your photo, Shua? Joshie, can I get your autograph?" you laughed as his smile grew, rolling his eyes at you again.

Joshua nodded at you once, letting out a breath through a smirk. "Having fun?"

A shiver ran down your spine. "A bit, if I'm honest," you admitted, but were actually more excited about his sudden change in attitude.

"Alright, princess. Let's have fun," he muttered, clasping his hand around yours to drag you once again through the crowd of people and outside the tent.

"Joshua!" you squealed, your smile had since vanished from your face as you looked around to see that he was dragging you towards a line of parked bus trailers.

You assumed that there was no one around since Joshua confidently shoved your back against the side of a bus trailer, making you gasp at the sheer force he used with you.

His eyes widened in disbelief when you smiled at him deviously. "You wanted this," he realized. "Do you enjoy this, baby?"

"I do," you nodded, breathing hard in anticipation already as Joshua closed in on you.

His fingers grazed your chin. "You want me to toss you around, pretty?" he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.

A shudder ran through your body. "Yeah," you sighed. "I want you to do whatever you want to me, Joshua."

Joshua looked at you in pure fascination, he even let out a soft sigh that brushed your face slightly.

"You..." he breathed but stopped, seemingly at a loss of words.

His head dipped and you closed your eyes, blindly grabbing his head with your hands as he kissed you hard on your lips. 

"I want you, Joshua," you whimpered into his hot mouth, the words felt urgent as you uttered them. "Now."

"What if someone sees?" he incited, his voice low and raspy.

"I don't care," you confessed, the statement shaking deep in your bones.

The fleeting confidence in you stirred something in your brain, telling you to act quick.

It was your turn to push him against the bus trailer behind him. He gasped in surprise as his back hit the metal wall, his eyebrow raising a bit.

You clasped your lips with his, earning a low groan from him that reverberated in his chest and against your hands that were sliding down to the belt of his pants.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his hands stopping you.

You faltered instantly. "I-I want to suck you off," your eyes read his face. "Can I?"

His hand released one of yours to cup your chin. "Why?"

You frowned. "Why, what do you mean, why?"

He nodded briefly. "Tell me you're not doing this because you feel bad for what happened earlier in the tent."

"I want to pleasure you," you explained, then you quickly relaxed, understanding the situation. "Don't think I'm doing this for any other reason than just for you."

His eyes scanned your face, his other hand released you to graze your cheek with his knuckles, the features of his face relaxing. "What's our safeword, bunny?"

You blinked slowly, showing him a smile before giving him your safeword.

"Fuck," he let out a puffy breath as your fingers resumed undoing his belt, to then get the button of his black jeans.

"You're so hard already," you cooed softly, and eyed him as your hand felt him over his underwear.

Joshua was biting his lower lip, looking strained already. "All for you, sweetheart."

You smiled at him sweetly. "Such a sweet talker," you tilted your head as you rubbed his hard cock through his underwear.

You stuck your hand through the slit of his boxers, grabbing his hard cock firmly and effectively pulling it free from the stretchy and wet fabric of his underwear. 

"You're being so naughty, princess," he chuckled at you faintly but he faltered completely as you lowered yourself to your knees before him.

The ground was hard against the soft skin of your knees, the thin layer of your stockings was not enough to protect them. But you knew you wanted to see the bruises by the following morning.

"Fuck," he muttered again, shuddering visibly when you kissed the tip of his cock, to then press your tongue on the slit to lick his precum as you locked eyes with him.

One large hand cupped your cheek, his eyes trained on you as your tongue gave a few strokes to his shaft, feeling the vein that marked in the underside, tracing a long line with your tongue until you wrapped your mouth around his cockhead.

You heard a low guttural groan leave him when you took him deeper in your mouth than you could before, your tongue lapping on the length of him as you moved your head back and forth. 

Darting a look at him, Joshua leaned his head back on the wall behind him, eyes closed and swallowing hard as you bobbed your head back and forth on his throbbing cock, swirling your tongue around his cockhead.

"God. Your mouth feels so, so fucking good, baby," he moaned faintly, his hands grabbing a handful of your hair.

The back of your mouth had started to hurt already from the intrusion each time you tried to take his cock deeper in your mouth. But you didn't care, all focus was in getting more sounds of approval from him. Sounds that were also making you aroused. 

Drool had started to drip down from the corners of your lips and onto your chin, wet sounds coming every time you pulled your head back, hollowing your cheeks to suck hard on his cock just as if it were a lolly.

"Fuck," he exhaled. "You don't know how much I needed you, baby."

A moan coiled in your throat, your walls throbbing desperately at the sound of his words. Your chest swelled proud when you felt his fingers tense up on your hair and you heard him moan faintly, cussing and muttering incoherently about your mouth and how good it felt.

"Fuck, fuck—I think someone's coming," he whispered but didn't make an attempt of stopping you, so you didn't.

Voices echoed in the distance, but you couldn't make out if someone actually saw you and Joshua. There was no actual acknowledgement towards what you were doing, but you felt euphoric all the same.

Being on your knees for him, sucking him off for anyone to see made you moan on his cock. You sneaked a look at Joshua's eyes, that were trained on you while your head bobbed back and forth, committed to the act of pleasuring him.

"Someone just saw you giving me head," his voice sounded raw. "You like this, don't you? Like taking my cock in your mouth for anyone to see."

You moaned a sound of confirmation, making the smile on his face grow just a little. He let out a weak sigh, the tension in his beautiful features showing that he was close.

"I'm close," he sighed and threw his head back a bit. His hand tightened on your hair slightly when you sucked him harder. "Fuck, baby. D'you want me to cum in your pretty mouth?" his thumb brushed your cheekbone gently, as if calling for your attention back to him.

You blinked at him, moaning the same sound again.

"Can I move, princess? You think you're ready for that?" he asked, his face and voice both strained.

You nodded with your head as you pulled your mouth back to suck on his cockhead, blinking an adoring look up at him.

"Tap my thigh if you need me to stop," he grabbed your head firmly and started thrusting his cock on your mouth.

Sloppily at first, almost as if he wanted you to adjust your mouth to his pace as he started to push his cock down your throat faster. You lifted your eyes to see his face deep in focus, probably containing himself to avoid hurting you by accident.

The feeling was so deeply arousing that you were tempted to sneak a hand between your legs and start touching yourself. But you were rendered immobile, not by his hands precisely, but by the sight of him fucking your mouth.

"Fuck, baby—I'm cumming. You're gonna take it all, right baby? Gonna swallow it all?" he groaned, revelling at the sight of you taking his cock, your eyes brimming with tears, your chin dripping with your own drool.

You were gagging loudly on his cock, but managed to get the slightest of nods.

"Yeah, you are," he cooed faintly when he saw the way you responded to his words.

Then he threw his head back, his face contorted in pure pleasure and you almost swore you could come from the sight alone. 

"God, fuck," his voice was a mere whisper as his cockhead bumped on the back of your mouth, his cum spurting down your throat and you instantly swallowed it.

Joshua groaned through clenched teeth as you swallowed the last drops of his cum, he screwed his eyes shut, exhaling elatedly at the same time that his hands gently released your hair.

"That was insane," he muttered slowly, appearing to come to his senses.

Gently, he pulled out of your mouth, a string of saliva falling out of your mouth and landed on your chin. He fixed his pants quickly before grabbing your hands that were previously resting on his thighs.

Joshua helped you stand up and immediately wrapped you in a tight embrace. Bringing a hand up to clean your face from your drool and tears.

"You did so good, bunny," he muttered in your lips after kissing you chastely. "So fucking good."

"'m glad you liked it," you smiled in his lips.

"Let's take you home, princess. I want to make you feel good too," he gave you small pecks on your lips. "Is that okay?"

"Can't you take me here? Right now?" you whined jokingly.

"No, baby," he whispered into your lips. "As much as I'm dying to do that right now, I don't want to risk anyone seeing you."

"But you didn't have an issue with it five minutes ago," you quipped.

"Yeah, but that was different. You were fully clothed and the person who saw us didn't see our faces," he pointed. 

"So the problem is that you don't want anyone to see me naked?" you pulled back to meet his gaze. "In that case I can keep my dress on." 

The conversation had shifted between you, and you could tell that he was no longer trying to keep you aroused—he didn't even look like he just got blown. You didn't know what it was, but it troubled him.

Joshua looked up at the night sky, seemingly looking frustrated for a second as he looked for words to say.

"What if I'm a little possessive too?" he asked, meeting your eyes.

You physically recoiled in his arms in a mixture of excitement and uneasiness. "W-what?" you blurted in disbelief.

"What if I don't want anyone seeing what I have with you?" his eyes searched your face. "Even if you kept your dress on, I don't want anyone seeing how good you are for me."

Your heart dropped, pain sinking into your chest. This was totally not what you expected to hear from him. Even if his possessiveness was entirely revolving around a sexual aspect, you weren't ready to hear it.

"Joshua-," you started.

"I know I said that I'd fuck you anywhere but I just can't give you that right now," he smiled, seemingly ashamed of his words.

"No, it's alright," you frowned. "It's just really confusing hearing you say this."

"What, you don't think I'm capable of feeling a little jealous too?" he asked. "You don't like the idea of me seeing other girls, I don't like the idea of someone seeing you."

Was this something you needed to talk in more depth with him? Totally, yes. Were you going to ask him to do so? No, probably not ever.

"Fair," you muttered, mustering a smile to him before capturing his lips with your own. "Take me home, then."

Joshua took your hand again, making your tummy flutter with nervousness that only intensified when he led you back to the tent.

As you both pushed through Joshua's friends and unknown faces, you swore that everyone looked at you differently; not in a bad or good way precisely, just different. As though everyone knew why you and Joshua disappeared, and judging by the fact that someone saw you, they probably did already.

Joshua kept you close, almost as though wanting to make his point across—he felt possessive of you. And you didn't want to know to which extent he felt like this over you. 

But you knew one thing, whatever it was that made him look this deeply troubled, paired with your unspoken feelings for him was starting to taint your already messy relationship of fuckbuddies.

Joshua drove faster this time around, keeping a hand on the wheel and the other placed flatly on your thigh.

"Did you enjoy the festival?" he asked, his thumb had started to draw invisible circles on your thigh.

"I did," you smiled. "Drank mojitos and ate corn dogs," you told him, looking at his large hand. You resisted the urge to grab it and lace your fingers with his.

"Mojitos?"

"Strawberry mojitos," you added. "I took some photos too, of you, on stage."

"You did? Will you show me?" he eyed you excitedly.

"Of course," you smiled at him.

"So you got a good spot to see me?"

"Yeah I got to see you throughout the whole set," you saw him smile faintly.

"I saw you singing along," he seemed to remember suddenly. "You've been listening to our music."

"Yeah," you admitted. "Almost everyday. Does that make me your groupie?"

He chuckled. "I'm convinced that you don't know what a groupie is, bunny."

"Shuddup," you smiled.

"Hey, but it's not fair—you can listen to my music but I haven't read your book," he frowned.

"I'll lend you the hardcopy of my manuscript," you promised.

"I actually looked for you, do you use a pen name?"

Your heart sank. He took the time to search your books using your real name?

You told him your pseudonym and he repeated each name silently and nodded. 

"Yeah, I might've confused the lady at the local library," he laughed.

"You went to the library looking for my books using my real name," he nodded and you laughed. "You should've asked me first."

"You never answer my texts on time," he reproached. "Well but I wanted it to be a secret, actually."

"Why?" you frowned.

"I wanted to impress you," he shrugged.

"You don't have to, Joshua," you told him sincerely.

"But I want to," he pouted cutely. "And now that I know you've been listening to my music, I feel like I have to catch up with you."

"I like your music. I'm not sure if you're going to like my books," you warned him.

"Let me decide that," he smiled at you.

Joshua parked his car expertly with one hand, his other hand still resting on your thigh. He had stopped rubbing circles through the thin fabric of your stockings, but your skin felt hot at his touch nonetheless.

Your fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of the skirt of your little black dress as you stepped on the elevator, Joshua stood closely behind you.

"Are you nervous?" he asked in your ear, leaning closer to you.

"A bit," you breathed, turning on your feet to see his face.

"Why?" he slowly smirked. "We've done this before."

You were lucky that no one else was in that elevator, but you still waited until you got to your apartment to continue that conversation.

Joshua gently pushed you against the wall as soon as he closed your apartment door.

"Mm? Why are you nervous, bunny?" he asked in a soft tone.

"I've never been fucked raw," you confessed, fighting the blush that crept immediately on your face.

His eyes searched your face briefly. "We don't have to do that tonight, we can use protection."

"No, don't get me wrong—I want to... do it raw," you breathed, your hands fidgeting with the collar of his meshy black shirt. "I'm just..."

You bit your tongue. You felt excited to try new things with Joshua, and what really got you feeling that way was that you were trying these things with someone you were actually falling in love with.

"What?" he egged you on, his curious eyes still trying to read your face.

You licked your lips anxiously and shook your head, reluctant to continue.

"We can take it slow, if that's what you want," he offered.

"No, do-don't hold back," you stuttered. "I want everything."

"I got you. Don't worry," he muttered before placing two fingers to grab your chin and leaned to kiss you.

You melted into his lips, feeling every nerve in your body respond at his touch when he slid his other hand on your waist, giving it a soft squeeze.

"I almost forgot to tell you," he breathed after pulling back from your lips. "You looked beautiful tonight, baby."

"Did you like my dress?" you darted a look down to your little black dress.

"Thank you for wearing it tonight," he grazed your cheek. "I liked it very much." 

"It's a good thing I didn't wear the bunny pjs then," you smirked though your blushing face.

He laughed faintly. "Yeah, good thing," he echoed dazedly, leaning to kiss you again.

God, if you could only just ask him. Does he feel the same way too? When your mouths join, when you breathe against each other, moaning and gasping at the slightest of touches against each other's skin.

Your fingers started undoing the buttons of his shirt, your hands sneaking between the split of his shirt to feel his hard chest, the defined muscles of his pecs.

Joshua moaned into your lips, his hands sliding from your waist to find your hips. His hot mouth placed open mouthed kisses on your chin, groaning in approval when you tilted your head back for him to kiss on the underside of your jaw.

Your back was pressed against the wall as his hands searched for your thighs and expertly lifted you up from the floor. You let out a squeal in surprise, your arms instantly locking around his shoulders.

A laugh in sheer joy left your lips when he carried you to your room. "We could've walked here."

"Shh, let me do nice things for you," he muttered as he let you back to the floor of your room and you got to the lamp on your nightstand.

He grabbed you by your waist, pulling you to his body as he sat down on your bed, leveling down to see eye to eye with you. His large hand slid on the nape of your neck as his lips found yours, tenderly locking you into a kiss.

Joshua was still wearing his shirt on his shoulders, the split parting as your fingers caressed the defined lines of the muscles on his abdomen, and then he moaned on your mouth when you reached his lats, that being a sensitive area for him.

"How do I get you out of this?" he smiled sheepishly when his fingers searched on your back and then on your sides.

"It's a slip dress," you explained, smiling too.

Your fingers grabbed the shoulder straps, sliding them from your arms and the dress simply fell from your frame, leaving your body with the light pink lingerie set you chose for tonight.

"Do you like it?" you asked sheepishly when he seemed unable to look back at your eyes.

Joshua swallowed hard, tearing his doe eyes from the lacey fabric barely covering your body and found your expectant eyes. "Yeah, baby," he released a breath through a weak smile. "I love it."

Your hands went to grab the clasp of your pretty bra, but he raised a hand from your waist.

"No, not yet," he muttered. "I want to take it off myself. Is that okay?"

"Yeah. More than okay," you sighed, repurposing your hands to remove his meshy black shirt from his shoulders, caressing his beautiful skin in the process.

His large hands busied themselves exploring your bare skin too, what your thigh high stockings didn't cover, caressing your bare waist as he leaned to press wet kisses down your chest, to the swell of your breasts.

"So beautiful," he muttered, as if to himself.

"Joshua," you moaned with a sigh as his hands circled on your back and slid down to cup your ass with a low guttural groan from his part.

"Don't rush this," he muttered against your skin, then glanced up to meet your eyes.

"Okay," you breathed, your skin already prickled and covered in goosebumps.

He smiled, his fingers reaching up to graze your chin. "We have all night, you don't have to rush anything."

"Oh, so you're going to fuck me all night?" you quipped with a grin.

"If that's what you want," he replied with a small shrug.

"I do. But what do you want, Joshua?" you retorted.

His gaze darkened as it met yours, he seemed to struggle with his words for the second time in the night, something that did not go unnoticed by you, but you decided not to make a big deal of it at the time.

Joshua didn't reply to your question verbally, instead he stood from your bed, your eyes following him now that he regained his natural height, now his frame towered over you.

He pushed you to sit on the bed, wordlessly making you understand that the roles were reversed for now and you resumed to undress him. Undoing his belt and button from his black jeans, hooking your fingers to push his jeans down on his legs for him to step out of them, socks included.

It was your turn to swallow hard at the sight of him nearly naked. He was hard already, as you could see the bulge in his underwear, your hand instantly rubbing his hard cock through the stretchy fabric.

"Lie down, princess," he muttered, nodding to the bed.

You scooted back on your bed covers and lied down as Joshua climbed on top of your body.

"Are you okay?" you asked, your voice laced with a bit of concern.

"Yeah," he breathed, pressing a kiss on your lower lip. "Never better."

He grabbed your legs and you wrapped them around his body, pressing down on his hips to join them with yours, earning a soft moan from him.

"Joshua?" you breathed when his lips trailed from your mouth, pressing wet kisses down the crook of your neck.

"Mm?"

"Ca-can I be on top?" you asked.

"Do you want to ride me, baby? Is that what you're asking?" he asked with his sweet voice.

"Let me be on top," you muttered, lowering your legs from his body.

He laughed against your skin. "Okay," he sighed, rolling over so his back was fully against the bed and you followed his body promptly, straddling him.

You wasted no time, leaning your body to press your chest against his, burying your fingers in his black hair before capturing his lips with yours.

His hands caressed your back, the pads of his fingers tracing the line of your column and stopping only to unclasp your pretty bra, his hands removed it completely, you heard when it landed on the floor.

His breath hitched when you pressed your tits against his hard chest, moving your lips to kiss his chin, then under his jaw and  down the crook of his neck, essentially mimicking what he does when he's on top of you.

"Can I mark you?" you asked shyly, darting a look to his face.

A small groan fell from his lips as he nodded with his head. "Yeah," he whispered with a light smile.

You returned the smile as your head dipped on the crook of his neck, his hands kneading on your hips as you landed love bites on the crook of his neck, his throat and finally reaching his toned chest.

Joshua was sensitive. It made you feel so stupid to realize it this far into your countless sexual encounters. He so rarely let you touch him during sex or kiss him that you never knew just how sensitive he actually was.

His hands were going to leave marks on your skin, you were sure of it. Kneading on your ass and hips, fingers digging harshly on your skin as you took your time marking his chest, marveling at the sight of his toned pecs.

"Fuck," he breathed softly, his eyes were closed tightly, so he never saw you smile at his downright restless behaviour. You and him had that in common, at least.

You couldn't ignore how big and hard he felt under you, so you started grinding on him to maybe help him release the growing tension on his cock.

Then you wanted to try something—you ran your tongue on one of his sides, feeling his toned lats, tasting cologne in his skin.

"Mmn—fuck!" his body hardened, his fingers threatening to pierce your skin.

The tip of your tongue traced a circle around one of his nipples to then press your wet lips and repeated the same actions on his other side, earning similar reactions.

A groan bubbled in his chest and suddenly you were being flipped to your back, startled you looked at his dark eyes. Unable to say a word, his mouth was already clashing with yours, kissing you fervently.

"Are you going to tie me up tonight?" you asked shyly.

His pierced eyebrow arched slightly. "Do you think you deserve it, pretty? Have you been bad?"

"Mmm, maybe a little," you admitted.

"Mmm yeah, I remember that you were, baby. Do you like being bratty? Do you like being tied up?" his fingers hooked on the thin fabric of your thong, pulling his body back to slide the thong down your legs, leaving your stockings on.

"Yeah, I do," you breathed, your eyes trained on him as he pressed soft kisses on the softer side of your thighs.

"Then I won't tie you tonight, princess," he smiled deviously to then run the tip of his tongue on the sensitive side of your thigh, dangerously close to your core.

You let out a soft whimper, your body tensed up and your legs instinctively closed a bit, one of your legs bumped with the side of his head.

"Maybe I'll get restraints for your legs too," he quipped, laughing softly. "Would you like that, baby?"

You swallowed hard, closing your eyes when he continued placing loving and soft kisses on your mound. "Mm, I think so," you muttered clumsily.

He used his hands to splay your thighs open for him, dipping his head on your mound to place wet kisses on your soft skin, sighing in the process of kissing your pussy lips, groaning softly with you when he heard you moan and whine.

"Joshua," you called softly when his tongue swiped a line between your folds, humming in response at the taste of your arousal.

One of his hands slotted in your lower tummy, while the other one remained holding your thigh. His face was practically buried in your cunt, slowly licking every inch of it, dipping the tip of his tongue on your entrance to make you cry out and moan his name.

You held onto his hand that was on your tummy when his tongue swirled around your clit a few times. "Oh god," you whimpered

The bed underneath you groaned when you sank your body, completely subdued in pleasure. Your fingers clenching on his fingers, the other had found the soft strands of his black hair, pulling softly when he started flicking your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue.

"F-fuck—Joshua," you breathed, screwing your eyes shut, trying to remain still on your bed but couldn't help but writhe slightly when he switched from flicking your clit to sucking at it lightly.

You propped yourself with your elbows on your bed to see him practically making out with your cunt. The sight of it alone made you almost climax—his dark hair between your fingers, his hands holding you still for him as he lifted his eyes to find yours.

A moan coiled in your throat, your fingers tugged his hair as you felt your orgasm drawing near, and he seemed to know it from the sounds you were making, so he started sucking your swollen bud harder, moving his head up and down slightly.

"Joshua, 'm close," you breathed, your body trembling slightly. "Fuck! Don't stop, please. Joshua!"

You threw your head back, your jaw going slack too as raggedy breaths broke in your chest, twitching and groaning lewdly on your bed. You moaned loudly, your hand pressing on his head as your orgasm continued to wash over you, the waves of pure bliss left tingles on your limbs and face.

You eased your body back on your bed, your chest heaving embarrassingly hard, soft moans spilled from your lips when Joshua's mouth left your throbbing cunt after showering it with tender kisses.

"Feel good?" you heard him ask.

You opened your eyes to find him still between your thighs, smiling fondly at you.

"Amazing," you sighed weakly. "I love how you eat me out so much."

He laughed. "I love eating you out, princess."

"Oh, yeah?" you breathed.

Joshua climbed back on top of you. The dim light from your lamp let you see the pretty features of his face, you reached to wipe your arousal from his chin and he smiled as he pressed his chapped lips with your own.

"Yeah," he answered and you were reminded of how much you liked it when he said that.

He got on his knees to take his sweet time taking your stockings off, his hands caressing your legs in the process, his lust-lidded eyes locking with yours as he did so. 

Then he lied on his side, using his elbow on the bed to support him as his other hand slid between your legs, his pointer finger slid between your pussy lips, playing with your wetness as his eyes searched your face.

Your eyes shifted to the finger disappearing inside your cunt, pumping in and out a few times until you were ready for another finger.

"Joshua," you whimpered pathetically when his two fingers massaged your walls, but really what had you on the verge of insanity was his doe eyes trained on your face.

"Mm?" his eyebrows arched slightly. "What's wrong?"

"I want you so bad," you breathed, your hand cupping his cheek to pull him into a needy kiss, nibbling his lower lip with your teeth when his fingers scissored inside you.

"You think you're ready for me, sweetheart?" he muttered, his voice strained with tension.

You nodded a bit too eagerly.

"No, I don't think you're ready, baby," he replied, introducing a third finger inside you.

"Joshua," you whined, knowing that he liked hearing you beg. "Please. I waited all day. Please take me,"

He smiled, immediately telling on your little game. "Yeah, you waited all day for me princess, after ignoring me all week. Why should I give you what you want?"

"Because you want it too," you replied boldly. "I know you want me as much as I want you."

"Mmm, yeah baby, you're right. I want you but I wait for you," his doe eyes locked with yours. "Can you say you do the same for me, baby? You like having fun by pushing me away, so why shouldn't I have fun too?"

"You're being mean, Shua," you frowned. "I didn't push you away, just–"

"Careful, princess," he warned, the corner of his lips twitching. "I don't like when you lie to me. You know that."

You moaned then he pressed the palm of his hand on your sensitive clit while still pumping three fingers in and out of your wet walls.

When you gave him no response nor explanation, he smiled. "So you were pushing me away. Again, baby?"

You remained quiet and looked away from his darkened gaze.

"Why do you do that?" he pressed, his voice sounding soft, alluring.

You groaned and bit your lip as he continued to massage your walls with his fingers, his palm stimulating your clit slowly toward another orgasm.

"Joshua," you sighed, closing your eyes. "Joshua, I'm cumming."

"No, you're not," he muttered softly, pulling his fingers out of your cunt when your walls had started clenching harder.

You gasped in frustration. "Joshua!" you whined. "I was close."

He let out a breathy chuckle and pressed his lips against your cheek. "I know, baby."

"Then why..? Why did you stop?" you asked.

"You're cumming when I want you to," he replied shortly.

You sighed your frustration, not caring how childish you were being. "You're mean," you pouted.

He laughed softly when your fingers hooked on the band of his underwear and yanked it down, his hard cock slapping his lower abdomen as he lifted his hips for you to tear off the last piece of clothing he wore.  

"And you lied to me, again," he countered as he climbed back on top of your body, pressing loving kisses to your cheeks and chin, each kiss seemed to leave a trail of tingles on your skin.

"I'm s–"

"Sorry?" he muttered, kissing your jaw.

"Joshua, please," you moaned weakly. "I'll be good, just—fuck me. Do whatever you want. Punish me but please, fuck me."

His eyes glinted with awe, and you remembered that he liked it when you begged. "You'll let me do anything I want, sweetheart?"

"Yes," you breathed. "I'm yours."

Joshua cocked his head to the side ever so slightly. "Say that again," he whispered, giving you another soft kiss now on your lips. And another.

"I'm yours, Joshua."

He hummed in satisfaction. "You're mine," he repeated, savoring the statement with his sweet lips.

"Only yours," you echoed dazedly.

"Oh, you cruel thing," he said darkly. "You know what you're doing, don't you?"

No response came from you. If he wanted answers, that was the best you could give him right now. And for a moment, he appeared to know that too.

A shudder invaded your body when Joshua grabbed his cock on one hand, dragging his cockhead on your wet folds. A soft breath spilled from his lips when he felt you, skin on skin.

"Ready?" Joshua searched your eyes again.

You nodded. "Ready," you breathed.

A low whimper coiled in your throat when he slowly eased himself in. Your hand held onto his shoulder, your eyes brimmed with tears from the pain of how big he actually felt without the extra lubrication that the condoms provided.

But you also moaned at how insanely good he felt raw. It was so good to finally feel him, every naked inch of him inside your walls, that you swore you would climax from just having him like this. 

"Breathe, baby," he whispered, kissing your moans with such tenderness that you almost broke.

"Joshua," you whimpered, your fingers digging on his shoulder.

"It's okay. I know, baby," he frowned slightly. "Do you want to stop?"

"No, no. I'm fine. Please," you begged, although you didn't know what you were begging for.

He released another breath when he finally bottomed out, your walls throbbed desperately around his length and he pressed his forehead against yours.

His eyelids fluttered closed before pulling his hips back, the feeling of his cock sliding out your wet walls felt good—so good that you were already whimpering and trembling.

"Okay?" he gasped, starting to push in and out of you.

"Yes, more than okay, Joshua," you stuttered, closing your eyes with a sigh.

"You're crying, baby," he pointed, he was still moving achingly slow.

"It-it's big—you're so big," you stammered pathetically.

He paused. "Am I hurting you?" his voice was laced with concern.

"No, it's not bad, Joshua. I can take it," you breathed.

It actually wasn't that bad—as he pushed his cock in and out you could feel your walls easing and stretching around it, adjusting to his size.

Joshua looked tense, he let out a groan when his hips started moving faster on you, then he pulled his body back, making you cry out in pleasure when the position of his cock inside you shifted, pressing on your front walls.

He brought a hand on your lower abdomen, his thumb finding your clit to start rubbing on it.

"Better?" he asked. He was still weary, his big eyes searching your face as he pushed his cock in and out on you, rubbing your clit to ease you from the lingering threads of pain.

"Yeah. Feels so good, Joshua," you sighed, swallowing thickly at the drag of his cock inside your walls. "So, so good."

"Yeah, I know," he replied with a low groan. "You feel good too, sweetheart. Fuck, so good."

You whimpered at the sound of his words, the way he pronounced each one with a tight jaw, his brow furrowing as he pushed his cock inside your walls at a delicious pace.

"So warm and wet, so fucking good, baby," he sighed.

His thumb pressed on your clit, rubbing it and teasing it senselessly, making you moan and squirm. It was too much, your hands clenched on your bed covers when you sensed your orgasm drawing near again.

"Oh, god. Fuck," you whimpered, writhing against your bed as Joshua dragged his cock in and out your clenching walls.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips buckled for a second. "You're close. Right, bunny?"

You shook your head on your pillows.

Then, his fingers landed a slap right on your clit, making you yelp loudly. Clearly telling on your weak lie.

"Yes! Yes, I'm close, Joshua," you cried out.

He smirked in response, his hands holding your hips a second before he started ramming his cock faster inside your cunt. Your eyes widened at him and bit your lip hard enough to draw blood.

"Fuck," he muttered again before pulling out of you, right as your walls started clenching deliciously near your release.

"Joshua!" you whined, breathing furiously at him.

"Remember what I said," he was breathing hard too, probably because he was resisting his own pleasure only to edge you.

He carefully lowered his hard and wet cock on top of your tummy, you stifled a moan at the sheer size of it and the weight of it too. The reddened tip, the soft marks of a vein along the wet shaft, you bit your lip.

"Shua, please," you pleaded with a desperate sigh.

"That's not my name, baby," he snapped with a dark look.

"Joshua, I'll be good, just-"

"Tell me why I should believe you," he muttered as he moved to slide within your walls again, your heart swelled with a little satisfaction when he groaned in pleasure too. 

"I'll show you," you said weakly.

"Not good enough, princess," he shook his head as he slapped your pussy again, right in your sensitive clit.

"God, fuck!" you yelped loudly. "I'm sorry, Joshua. I'm sorry for pushing you away."

You moaned helplessly when leaned down a bit and spit on your cunt, covering your clit with his saliva to start rubbing circles on your swollen and oversensitive bud.

"Why, do you like to have me at your beck and call? You enjoy to fuck me and toss me away like one of your toys?" he muttered darkly.

Suddenly you regretted telling him to punish you, because he only wanted the truth from you, unlike last time he punished you and you had to try not utter a word while he fucked you into the bed.

But you could see that he was struggling to hold back, swallowing hard, his brow furrowed.

"No! You're not my toy—you're... you're," you stammered. Were you about to confess? Like this?

Your orgasm was threatening close, so you squirmed on your bed, trying to create some distance from his fingers teasing your clit. Joshua understood what you were attempting to do and started caressing it lightly, thinking that he was over stimming you.

"You're close?" he asked, realizing when he heard you sigh a moan.

But he didn't wait for your answer. Joshua pulled out again, his cock landing with a soft slap on your lower tummy. A single drop of cum dripped from his tip, but he wasn't cumming yet, you knew that by the way he was breathing in deeply, trying to contain himself.

If he only wanted the truth, you were deep in trouble. Because you push him away to avoid your growing infatuation over him.

"Joshua?" you called abruptly.

"Mm?" he lifted his gaze to find yours.

"What's your favorite color?" you asked breathlessly.

"What, why?" he frowned.

"Tell me," you pressed.

"Pink," he responded, his brow not relaxing.

"Really? That's cute," you sighed, Joshua's hips retracted from your body and he positioned himself again on his knees, his cock aligned with your core.

"Yours?" he asked with an air of reluctance.

You told him your favorite color.

"Why did I know you'd say that," he replied with a small smile.

"Your birthday?" you asked, feeling utterly pathetic.

He chuckled breathily. "What, why're you asking me this right now?"

"Tell me," you insisted. "Please."

"December 30th," he responded, looking confused.

A loud moan reverberated across your room, so loud that you almost wanted to cover your mouth when his cock sank into your walls again. He thrusted slowly, but then he continued rubbing your clit with his two middle fingers.

"What's yours, princess?" he asked, appearing to be following whatever you were trying to do. 

You told him your birthday through broken gasps.

"Still, I don't get why you ask," he breathed tiredly.

"I want to get to know you better," you told him with a whine.

Joshua smiled sweetly at you and that might've done it for you.

Your walls clenched around him and he groaned loudly, slamming his hips against you, the sound of his skin slapping against you filled the silence that followed between you.

Something you weren't expecting happened:  Joshua seemed to have forgotten about edging you, closing his eyelids tightly, his mouth parting a little. You loved to see when his face scrunched up like that, when he was so close that the muscles around his mouth relaxed, but his frown would deepen sweetly. 

Joshua threw his head back a little, a moan muffled in his mouth, his throat bobbing a little as he seemed to be immersed in pure pleasure. He didn't relent his hard thrusts on you, pushing his cock in and out your sopping walls while rubbing your clit expertly.

"Fuck, I can't—Joshua," you gasped. "I'm close. Please, please. Let me cum?"

Joshua groaned before lowering his gaze back at you. "Where do you want me, baby?"

It took you two seconds to understand what he was implying.

"Inside," you breathed. "Please. Cum inside me."

He nodded before he started ramming his cock in your walls faster, moaning loudly through clenched teeth. You moaned with him and sank your head into your pillows, back arching as the tension in your body only grew more intense.

"Joshua, oh god—Joshua," you called, not knowing what else to say, feeling all sanity slipping out of your mind, coming undone under waves of pure bliss washing over you.

"Baby," he called to you. "Say it again."

You blinked weakly, his words bringing you back to reality.  

"I'm yours, Joshua," you breathed.

"You're mine," he replied with a raw tone. "I'm gonna make you mine, right baby? You want that? Want me to stuff your pretty pussy full of my cum?"

You moaned and nodded desperately, your walls squeezing him hard the moment you heard his words.

"Yes, oh god, yes please," you whimpered.

He cussed and moaned as he came inside you, pushing his hips against you sloppily.

"You're mine," he whispered, his eyes glazing over the sight of you cumming hard with him.

"Only yours, Joshua," you responded wildly.

He groaned, your name spilling from his plump lips, pushing his cum deep inside you with lazy thrusts and came to a stop with heavy breaths.

His head thrown back slightly, his eyelids fluttering shut, his mouth parted. He looked so unreal, ethereal even.

Oh god. What have you done?  

Joshua seemed to come down from his high when you shifted on your bed ever so slightly.

"What was all that?" he demanded in a tone that still denoted his confusion still. "The questions."

"I know nothing about you, Joshua," you explained shyly.

And yet, you told him you were his.

But he blinked slowly and started laughing, his cock was still buried inside your walls.

"Don't laugh at me," you pouted through your hurt ego, though he had no idea why you started quizzing him mid-coitus.

"You couldn't wait till we were done?" he asked and giggled again when you shook your head.

He leaned forward, placing his arms above your head on your pillows and pressed his chest against yours, his eyes looking at you fondly.

"What other questions do you have for me?" he asked.

"I-I have plenty," you admitted meekly.

"Is there a reason why you want to know now? Or can it wait?" he kept his eyes trained on you, you noticed, he was gathering every reaction you showed.

"It can wait," you nodded. "Why?"

"Because you asked me to fuck you all night and I'm in the middle of that," he booped your nose with one finger. "Can you keep your questions until I'm done?"

A sweet smile crept on his face when your core fluttered around him and you groaned in utter embarrassment.

"Is that a yes?" he laughed.

You groaned again and slapped his shoulder slightly.

"I'll get something to clean you up," he muttered with a smile still, pulling his hips from you.

He returned some minutes later with a hand towel, which he had soaked with warm water and he gently cleaned the cum that had already spilled from your entrance.

"I found it in the cupboard. I hope you don't mind," he darted a look at you briefly.

"It's fine," you assured him. "I need to go to the bathroom to take care of everything else."

"Do you want me to carry you there?" he asked, getting up from the bed.

"I'm fine," you sat up on your bed. "Can we shower later?" you asked meekly.

"Sure, baby," he sighed softly.

When you came back to your bedroom, you had half-expected to see him asleep from how tired he actually looked. But he was lying on your bed, one leg crossed over and absentmindedly looking at his phone screen, one arm tucked under his head.

God, he was a sight to see. Chest and throat covered in hickeys, his black hair ruffled slightly, the bedroom eyes when he noticed you walking in.

You climbed your bed and lied on your side next to him.

"You're okay?" he asked after he left his phone on the nightstand and turned on his side to look at you.

"Yeah," you sighed. "Never better."

His fingers cupped your chin softly and you leaned to lock his lips with your own in a tender, hot kiss. Joshua moaned softly in your mouth when you felt his tongue slid in your mouth to mingle with yours.

You gathered in your mind what little and fruitless information you got from your long day with Joshua. Maybe you got it wrong this whole time, and you don't need to know what his favorite color is, although you did want to learn his birthday.

You could no longer hide your infatuation over Joshua Hong. It was becoming painfully obvious, though you weren't sure to what extent he was aware of this. Or if he even cared, for that matter.

There was one more painful realization to all of this, one that you didn't expect and probably overlooked because you were worried so much about your infatuation with him that you didn't care to see him with clarity.

Joshua was lonely.

✮ a/n: i'm sorry

i have nothing else to say.

not really, haha

i love joshua, i loved writing this

if you liked this chapter please show it some love? 🥺

and happy holidays!! ヾ(•w•`)o

READ PART 5

→ join my taglist — to read the previous chapters: navi post

[littlebitsalt]

Lies

Yandere (former) friend x reader

Summary: you meet your school friend again.

You write for a living. You travel across the world and make stories out of them. You had enough money to do what you want, enough friends to keep company, enough readers to keep you motivated.

You worked in a company a few years ago. You woke up early and got ready for a hard day's work back then. Work was stressful, and the people around you were a burden. You had no one to express your feelings back there.

So you stopped working for the company after 4 years. You decided to pursue your dreams as a writer. Your friends and family were worried that you weren't going to make a living out of writing, but you succeeded. Your work wasn't the best out there, but you appreciated your life as a writer.

You finished a sequel for your first book a week ago. Your friends called you for celebration. You and your friends had fun, singing, drinking, and chatting about some personal stuff.

One of your friends, Jamie, brought up middle school while talking.

"Hey, do you guys remember Ray from middle school?"

You nodded. You remember him very well.

"I heard that he is a son of a well known company's owner!"

Your friend said.

"So the rumor was right all along?"

Your other friend, Alex, was surprised.

"Yeah, those rumors were true! Didn't you work for the company Ray's father owns?"

Jamie asked.

"I did, but I've only seen him in the elevator or hallways. We were in different departments. How did you know about this anyway Jamie? I haven't seen this in news."

"Well... I work in a magazine company.. and a friend of mine told me."

You picture Ray walking around, alone. He was never with someone. He isolated himself from everyone. People from the company often tried to start a conversation with Ray, but they never got his attention. It wasn't that Ray couldn't communicate with others. Ray didn't need anybody. Doing something without any company was possible for him. In fact, Ray was good at it.

You didn't have any interactions with him. You didn't even try to. Plus, he is too busy to hang around with people.

You woke up from your recall and focused on the conversation.

"Is he still a loner?"

Alex asked.

"I think he is. But he does his work very well, that's for sure."

"He wouldn't be Ray if he wasn't the best, and alone."

Alex snorted.

"Hadn't Ray and you have something going on in middle school? You were basically Ray's stalker in middle school."

Jamie smirked at you. Jamie was always well informed with the latest news, even in middle school.

"What do you mean? You know that I talked to almost everyone at that time!"

"Jamie has a point. You literally followed him everywhere in middle school. I'm surprised Ray hadn't reported you."

"Just tell us the truth!"

Jamie looked at you with sparkling eyes. You knew that Jamie wasn't going to lose this chance.

"Just admit it, it was more than 10 years ago!"

"Okay! Well.. Maybe I had feelings for him. But it was just a phase."

You blurted out how you felt. Your face got red, and your friends all laughed their head off. It was quite embarrassing. People turned their heads to see what made two friends laugh.

Your friends went on teasing you. Jamie knew all your crushes' names and was excited enough to call all their names out. Even Alex, who was relatively calm teased how you fall in love very easily. You tried to explain that your number of crushes wasn't that much, but your friends didn't listen.

You parted with your friends when alcohol kicked in a little. You went into a nearby convenient store to buy something to eat next morning.

You bought finished products and a icecream cone. You sat down on a bench just outside the convenient store.

You thought about Ray.

At first, you asked questions to Ray and tried to talk to him out of curiosity. But as time passed, you began to really enjoy time with him.

Ray didn't talk much. He just listened, and that did help you. He listened attentively to your words. He didn't measure you like others did.

You were upset when Ray left without a word. You felt devastated when you realized you didn't even have his phone number. You hadn't doubted your friendship(maybe a little more...?) with him, but after him disappearing without a trace, you figured that the friendship was one-sided.

You assumed this unpleasant feeling would go on forever, but you realized these kind of feelings fade off surprisingly fast. You had other things to consider in your life, and thinking about Ray wasn't as important as before. As time went by, Ray become somebody who would be mentioned only when your friends and you had time recalling middle school days.

"Are you (y/n)?"

Someone asked.

You looked up. A familiar face looked at you.

"Do you remeber me? I'm Ray."

"Oh.. of course!"

An awkward silence began. You didn't know what to say. You didn't want to go on rambling about random stuff like you used to.

"Do you live close to here?"

Ray asked.

"Yeah, I moved here after I left the company. Do you live here too?"

"Not really, but I live close."

"That's great! It's nice having a friend that lives close."

"Remember when we were close in middle school?"

Ray asked. You were quite surprised. 'Close' was not a word that you expected.

"I remember. I hope you had a great time with me. I was a burden back then, right?"

Ray was definitely saying you were close to him just to be nice.

"I enjoyed conversations with you. You were fun to hang out with."

"That's a good thing to hear, thanks. I think I should go home now, I have work to do tomorrow. Deadline is close."

You lied. Feelings for him faded off years ago, but talking to him gave you an unpleasant feeling.

You also had this kind despicable mind off lying and leaving him on a conversation. You wanted to give back what he done in spite of knowing that it would be a rude thing to do.

Maybe you were lying to yourself when you thought about Ray and realized Ray wasn't as important.

You still were conscious of him.

"Oh.. okay. Can I take you home? It's getting late."

"No. I'm sorry, but I'd be better alone. We could talk sometime later."

"Alright."

You got home, and went straight to sleep.

After that day, you met him often in your town. He didn't even try to hide that he was solving his everday life in your town to meet you.

"Hi again (y/n)"

You met him at a grocery store.

"Oh, hi. Nice to see you again."

Ray joined in with noticing.

Casual conversations went by like middle school days. But now Ray was the one talking eagerly. You weren't quiet like Ray in middle school, but Ray now was more invested into this small talking. It was very unlike of him.

"(y/n), do you have plans this Sunday?"

"No, I'm free on Sunday, why?"

"I was wondering if you can have dinner with me."

"Okay, do you have any restaurants in mind?"

"I do. I'll pick you up at 6"

You were convinced Ray was asking you on a date. You didn't have feelings for him, but you decided it wouldn't hurt to go on a date with him.

It was Sunday morning, and you got a call from your friend, Jamie.

"(y/n), do you have time? I really need you today!"

Jamie sounded desperate.

"What's the problem?"

"I have a date today. A colleague introduced him.. But I can't go today!"

"Why? He couldn't be that bad.."

"I have a important thing to do today. My favorite singer actually drops his album today, and I have to go buy the album to see him. He is coming to the bookstore today! I can't miss this chance. I'm very sorry, (y/n), I'll do anything if you ask me to."

You knew you had promised Ray for dinner today. You also know that Jamie has other people to go on a date instead of her.

You knew certainly that Ray would be upset. His expressions directed he was looking up to this dinner.

"Alright. I'll do it. But you'll have to pay for our meal if we hang out again."

"Of course I will! Thanks! I really needed someone to go on a date with this.. what's his name..? Oh, Liam. You can meet him at 4. I'll text you the details."

"Okay."

You hung up the phone. You texted Ray right away you couldn't have dinner with him. You texted him you had to help out your friend, which was technically not a lie. You felt bad, intentionally hurting him. But it really didn't matter.. You had no means of dating him. Surely.

It was childish of you to treat someone like this. You knew this very well. It was okay though. It was better than making someone feel one sided in a relationship.

You felt you were putting too much energy in thinking, so you slept until it was time for a date.

Dressed decently, you waited for Liam in front of the restaurant Jamie texted you. After a few minutes, Liam arrived.

"Hi? You are (y/n), right?"

"Yes. Is it okay if I'm here instead of Jamie?"

"Well.. It's disappointing that Jamie couldn't come. But meeting someone like you is luck to me."

Liam was very out forward and energetic guy. His words were very honest, and he made you feel comfortable.

"What are your interests?"

Liam asked.

"I like writing.. I never knew I had fun writing when I was is school. I found my hobby just a few years ago."

"That's a cool interest. I travel when I have the chance. I watch a lot of traveling channels..."

"Can.. can I go to the bathroom real quick?

You saw Ray walking into the restaurant you were in, alone.

You ran straight to the bathroom, hoping Ray didn't see you. After a few minutes, you scanned the restaurant and found Ray sitting at the opposite side. Relieved, you went back to Liam.

You finished your dinner with Liam. Liam wanted to spend more time with you, but you declined. You wanted Ray to not notice you hanging out with Liam.

You bought some snacks at the convenient store and sat on the bench. You nibbled on a chocolate bar you bought. You felt the breeze touching your skin. Feeling the wind is a good thing to do when you're mind is full of useless thoughts.

"(y/n)"

You instantly knew it was Ray.

"Oh Ray.. Hi."

"I didn't expect you to be here."

"I finished helping my friend.. so.."

"Do you mind if I sit next to you?"

"I don't mind! You can sit here."

You could hear your heart thumping.

Did he find out?

You could tell by his face that he wasn't feeling good.

"(y/n), did you miss me when I left?"

Ray asked. You couldn't answer.

You told yourself you forgot about Ray, and it was right, you actually nearly forgot Ray and you were a thing.

But that was until Ray entered your life without your will. You told yourself that you weren't conscious of him although your actions told otherwise.

"No... umm.. I was busy studying and doing other things, so I didn't miss you, that much. "

"Oh"

Ray didn't talk for a while.

"Do you want to know why I left without a word?"

You wondered if you should focus on the word "left" or "without a word".

"Well um... Everyone in school was curious about your disappearance at that time. People asked me where you've gone. All I could say was 'I don't know either'.. In fact, I was the one who wanted to know why you left the most!"

You tried to brighten the mood. It didn't work.

"Nothing special.. I left because my parents had business in other cities."

"That explains your disappearance. I guess it would've been better if you told me."

You felt awkward. You desperately wanted to leave.

Ray didn't say anything. He looked at the ground.

Silence began. You couldn't handle the long silence anymore.

"Ray, I should go. I'm really tired today."

You stood up and tried to leave, but Ray grabbed your hand.

"I love you."

"I don't think this is the time for jokes."

"It's not a joke."

Ray grabbed your hand harder.

"I.. don't know what to tell you."

You quickly set your hand free from him. You walked away as fast as you can.

You didn't come out of your home after Ray's confession. Ray could be anywhere you go, and you weren't ready to answer him.

Liam tried to text you, but you didn't respond. You didn't feel like meeting someone new. You just wanted time alone.

You focused on writing your next book to pass time. You weren't planning to, but you had nothing else to do. Your friends can't hang out with you all the time, your connection with Liam has practically ended, your family lives far away, and you most definitely did not want to meet Ray.

What was he thinking when he confessed? Did he really think you'd say it back? You were confused. You thought you gave him hints by answering his questions in a cold way and even cancelling a date.

You knew very well you were thinking of him more than anyone in your life, but that doesn't mean you have to be in an intimate relationship with him.

Ray wants to be a special someone to you. But you don't.

It would be a nuisance to both you and Ray if you accepted Ray. Your emotions sway a lot. An hour ago, you would think of Ray as a person that creates a great impact on your life, and an hour after, you behave in a cold way to Ray.

You prefered organizing your emotions to one. But with Ray, organizing was hard. Emotions can't go on forever, it changes, and you couldn't stand your complex emotions. What's so different about Ray that causes you to feel complicated emotions?

Now you wanted to leave. It was foolish of you to live close to a company you got out from.

You contacted your family. Since you aren't working in a company, you didn't have any reasons to stay in a crowded town. Not hanging out with Jamie and Alex would be a shame. It didn't matter though. You wanted your mind off of this town.

All of this might be a rush of emotions. You might regret this. But your desire of leaving was bigger.

You went to a small restaurant you liked to go. Since you would leave soon, you thought visiting your favorite restaurant was a good idea.

You sat at the corner, where many can't see you. You ordered your favorite dish and called you mother while waiting.

"Mom, I was wondering if I can live with you and dad. I hope to see (sibling name) if it's vacation."

"Why? I thought you were good there."

"Uhh... I want a break.. I guess. I don't have anything to do here either."

"Alright then. If you want. We always have a spare room. But think more carefully! What about your friends? Or Ray.. did I say his name right? You said Ray was in the same company as you."

"Oh... Alright. I'll call you later."

You finished the call.

A familiar voice called out your name. It was Ray, as expected.

"(y/n)! I didn't know you knew this restaurant too."

You felt irritated.

"I didn't know you had an interest in stalking people."

"It's a coincidence, I swear. I'm friends with the owner of this restaurant and I come here often to visit my friend."

"Oh.. okay."

"Did you think about it?"

"I did."

Ray was pretending he didn't listen your call. You knew it.

"I'm leaving. I don't know what I'm doing here, wasting money, time, and emotions. I'm going home."

Ray was quiet.

"I'm sorry Ray. For treating you badly and .. uh.. lying to you. I ordered something.. you should eat it. I really don't feel well and I should just go home."

"Can you think about it again, please?"

Ray looked like he was going to cry, or go mad.

"You shouldn't go cling on to one person.. you know.. I know there's a ton of people who wants to be friends with you. We .. uh.."

You paused for a second. Was this right? It would've been better if you ran straight to your house.

"You can text me though. I'm pretty much jobless .."

You ran out of the restaurant.

You ran to your home, and noticed men outside of your house.

You turned back. Your instincts told that those men would only cause harm.

You headed to the convenient store. The store would be safe. There are people there.

Unfortunately, the store was closed. You headed for another store close by.

It was no use. A man waiting for you hiding grabbed you.

"Be quiet!"

The man pushed you into a black car. After that, you could see only pitch black.

After some time, you woke up somewhere unfamiliar.

A voice welcomed you.

"Ray, what are you doing here?"

"This is my house, (y/n)"

"Did you really kidnap me?"

"I just wanted you to realize you're lying to yourself."

Ray came close. Your heart wouldn't stop thumping out loud.

"What do you mean I'm lying to myself?"

"You're lying to yourself. You wouldn't admit I'm important to you. I know that feeling, (y/n). When we were in middle school, I only thought you as a classmate who has a big interest in me. I didn't realize what you meant to me when I left."

"I need to go home."

Ray ignored you and went on.

"I lied to myself all this time that I don't need you. But I do.

"You're the only one who could truly be with me. Others don't want anything from me. They just want to use me.. But you aren't. You're kind (y/n). You've never really hated me. You always listen to me..

"I'm just sad that you're lying to yourself like I did all these years.. But it's okay. I love you, and I'll help you."

"That's such a misunderstanding."

"Either way.. you can't leave.. until you stop lying to yourself."

Ray didn't care what you said. Ray hugged you and whispered how much he missed you and needed you in his life.

Ray is mad. You're now just regretting spending time thinking of him.

You couldn't assume the time you would spend with Ray from now on. You wanted this whole thing to be a lie.

[heygerald]

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 3

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic asshole. After their moment at the wrap party, Tom shows up at Parker's bookstore. How is it possible someone can be such an asshole when asking for a favor?

read the story here: prev / next

Two weeks later finds the weather outside shifting with the first hint of autumn; cooler temperatures in the morning greet Parker when she walks to work, and the coffee shop next door has started advertising their new fall drinks of pumpkin spice and cinnamon tea. She's seen her brother every day since the wrap party—partly because he always makes a point of taking some down time after finishing a movie to recover from his stunts, and partly because her and Jody have become fast friends—but she hasn't seen Tom since their moment in the bathroom.

She suspects that's for the best. The internet is flooded with paparazzi photos of him flouncing around town with models every other day, and she's still trying to forget how natural it felt to laugh with him.

But despite her brother's newly open schedule, and Jody's constant pestering to go spend a day at the beach, Parker finds her bookstore just as empty as always.

There are a few stragglers here and there throughout the day. Sometimes she gets lucky when a tour bus stops for gas and snacks, allowing an ensemble of tacky dressed tourists to flood her street for twenty minutes. On unlucky days, Mr. Chamberlain will stop in to peruse her historical section; but he doesn't have any sort of schedule or income, and those visits consist entirely of him describing last night's CSI episode to Parker before trying to set her up with his grandson. Once he bought a book from her dollar bin. He attempted to return it three days later.

On days like today, Parker is visited by a sixteen-year-old named Melissa who hangs out every so often while her mom attends overpriced Pilates in the studio down the block.

"...and then Peter was all 'no, sorry Mandy, I'm not interested". Like, hello! My name is Melissa and we've lived in the same neighborhood since we were four," said teenager was droning on from her spot atop the upcycled reading chair in the corner. She never failed to impress Parker with how much she could talk—the stories quite literally never stopped coming—while at the same time she managed to read about four books a week. Parker suspected that Melissa's brain represented something like the Rainbow Road in Mario Kart, when the music got a little too fast and the turns were a little too hard to keep up with. "Now, I have no idea what I'm going to do. There's no one else for me to ask since it's three weeks away."

Parker, only half-listening to the story, hummed from her spot two rows back. She had won several boxes of books at a local auction about a month ago and had done a pretty good job at pretending they didn't exist.

Ignoring the problem only lasted so long, however, and this morning she had ended up spilling coffee all over herself when her sneaker caught the edge of the box. Pride—and knees—damaged, she decided to tackle the issue first thing in the morning.

It was now four in the afternoon, and the books were mocking her.

"Can't you just go alone?" she asked.

"Go alone? Are you crazy! That's, like, really sad, Park," Melissa explained. She couldn't see her, but Parker could feel the judgmental look the teen girl was giving her. "Only losers go alone to dances."

"Baby did it."

"Who?"

"Baby. You know? You don't put Baby in a corner? That one."

A tut. "You should really update your references."

"Jesus. Since when did Dirty Dancing become an outdated reference?" she muttered while inspecting the spine of a mystery novel from the 70s. It had definitely seen better days, and when she shifted it, three pages fell out. Parker tossed it into the TRASH box with a sigh. "Is going to a dance with your friends considered outdated too?"

"That's the same thing as going alone," Melissa groaned.

"How? You're literally not alone."

"Because if I go with my friends, that means that I couldn't get anyone that wasn't a friend to agree to go with me. I don't need the whole school thinking that I'm a total loser."

"I went with my friends and had a blast. And I'm not a loser."

There was no response other than silence, and after a few moments Parker realized that if Melissa had nothing to say about the subject, she likely had nothing nice to say.

She cleared her throat before moving onto the next, and final, box hoping that there would be better books in it. So far, her KEEP pile was looking pathetically small compared to what was about to be binned. With a forced change of conversation, she asked, "hey, you grew up here, right?"

"Sure."

"Did you know the Sawyers?"

"Like, Miss Sawyer? Down on Oakcrest?"

"The fancy old house with the bushes shaped like dogs. I bought a bunch of books at her estate sale, and so far, they all suck. I thought she was supposed to be a big collector or something."

The sound of Melissa humming echoed throughout the empty store, and Parker peeked around the bookshelves to spot the girl lying upside down on the chair; Doc Martens stuck up in the air, long ponytail hanging to the ground as she played on her phone.

Parker rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, totally. But she collected those kid's books. Original copies or whatever. Mom said she paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for some rabbit book."

"...Peter Rabbit?"

"I guess," Melissa shrugged. There was a loud smack of gum popping before her voice rang out, "she did a bunch of donations to local art musuems and galleries and stuff. A phila-something—"

"Philanthropist?"

"—and there was some big deal about her donating everything to some charity. Mom was talking about it. Which, like, good for them or whatever but I don't understand how donating an old book is helping solve world hunger."

Parker let her head drop against the beat-up cardboard box in front of her, something despondent and miserable sitting on her chest at the realization that she had wasted time and money on nothing but crap. "Well, I wish I knew that before I went into a bidding war over this garbage. Are the Hardy Boys still cool or is that dated too?"

A judgmental laugh floated back. "Um, their name is pronounced Hemsworth, Park."

"I meant—" she started, before realizing that this was a battle she was never going to win, and even if she wanted to try the musty smell resonating from these boxes of crap had burned through her daily allowance of braincells. Something Melissa didn't seem to worry about as she puffed from her vape pen. "Forget it."

Not so shockingly, Melissa did not, in fact, forget it. Instead, she spent the next ten minutes describing in scary detail each Hemsworth brother, their looks on a scale of one to ten, their best movies, and why Chris was the dreamiest of them all. His hair and eyes were a big selling point, apparently, and as Parker listened to the teenager drone on, she couldn't help but wonder if Chris Hemsworth used box dye too.

So wrapped up in her own world of book sorting, Parker didn't notice when the front door opened with a tinkle of the bell until the shop went eerily quiet. Melissa, it seemed, had finally found a reason to shut up.

"I never liked Chris all that much," Parker said as she slowly gathered the KEEP bin and hefted it off the floor. Her lower back ached at the strain. Jesus, maybe I am old. Moving towards the front counter, she continued musing, "There's something about him in the first Thor movie, when his eyebrows were all bleached, that kind of turned me off. I think there's a word for that, right? The ew or something...."

She spots Melissa first.

The girl is sitting upright in the chair now, face flushed a deep scarlet red with a book held tightly in her lap as she pretends to read through it. Her phone and vape are nowhere to be seen, and she doesn't so much as glance up when Parker strides by.

"What happened to you?" she asks with an amused quirk of the brow. Melissa doesn't respond, and Parker turns to set the heavy box of books on the front counter when she spots the other person in the room. "Oh, sorry. I was in the back. Can I help—?"

It shouldn't surprise her as much as it does, but Parker blinks to find Tom Ryder standing on the other side of the counter staring at her with raised brows.

Tom fucking Ryder.

He looks better than the last time she ran into him. He has a nice tan going underneath a funky pair of yellow sunglasses that are, in her opinion, too big for his face. They look a little absurd with the whitewashed denim jacket he's wearing, but the yellow matches the bedazzled t-shirt he has on underneath, so she suspects it's some sort of fashion statement. Paired with an expensive pair of well-polished boots, it all looks quite absurd standing in the middle of her dilapidated bookstore.

Even more so when Parker realizes she's wearing nothing but a pair of cheap cargo shorts and an oversized Twilight sweatshirt that was covering the coffee-stained shirt underneath. (Team Jacob, always).

"Tom. Um... are you looking for Colt or something?"

In typical Ryder fashion, he ignores her question entirely to do a slow spin; blue eyes tinted by his glasses trailing over everything in sight. She can feel the judgement from across the counter, and when he finally fixes his sights back on her, his smirk is rage inducing. "This is your store. Seriously?"

Parker promptly plants her hands onto her hips with a scathing glare.

"Ok, what do you want?"

"Jesus, no wonder this place is empty," he drawls, a pointed smile tossed towards Melissa's prone form as he leans an elbow onto the counter. At being noticed, the teenager ducks her head behind the spine of her book as if she had just been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. "Do you talk to all your customers like that?"

"Just the assholes," she retorts. Over Tom's shoulder she catches Melissa's book dropping down two inches, and the girl's face is completely aghast.

What are you doing! she mouths, that's Tom Ryder!

Parker rolls her eyes. As if she didn't know who the blinged-out asshole standing in her store was. Speaking of—he's still standing there smirking at her. "That's you, if I wasn't clear. Don't let the door hit you on the way out."

Tom snorts. "I think I got that after the fifth time you said it."

"And yet..." she gestures vaguely to him, then to her store.

Because he's never behaved like a normal person, however, Tom doesn't seem to mind the insult or the offhand comment that she didn't want to deal with him. Instead, he smiles while his gaze drifts from judging the bookstore to judging Parker. He gives her a glance over—up, down, lingering on her oversized sweatshirt, before going back up—and finishes with a snort. "If the door hits me, I'm suing for damages, and I doubt you could afford the lawsuit. Let alone a lawyer."

God! What. a. fucking. asshole!

Parker bites back the insult knowing that it won't do any good. They've played this game before, and clearly being called an asshole seemed to have lost some of its bite over the weeks. So instead, she forcefully returns her attention to the cardboard box and slowly starts sorting the books into categories. "Fine. Can you just tell me what you want so I can get back to my life?"

He shifts against the counter and over the mustiness she catches a waft of his cologne when he grabs a book at random from her pile. "Why else do people come to a bookstore? I want a book."

Parker snorts. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. Seriously, what do you want?"

There's a moment of silence. She glances up to find him pointedly ignoring her as he flips through the book at random.

"You're... serious?"

He shrugs. "You said you have a bunch of sci-fi books."

"I'm surprised you even remember that given the whole," she sticks a finger into her mouth and mimes throwing up. He doesn't find it funny or cute and responds with a disgusted glare. Parker rolls her eyes with a shake of the head. "It was a—never mind. Why not order off of Amazon? I thought you said you've never even been to a bookstore before?"

This time, it's his turn to roll his eyes. He drops the book with a thwack before turning his attention to the overstuffed bookshelves at her left. At random, he starts ambling towards one. "You should be flattered that I picked your little store to start. Most people would kill to say that you know. Tom Ryder explores rundown bookstore in the shitty side of LA. If you had a picture, the paps would run it in every paper by tomorrow morning," he huffs.

"Yeah, I'll be sure to document this monumental occasion forever," she snarks, but follows after him anyway. His pattern is half-hearted; poking books here and there, glancing for hardly a second, before moving on. "And my store isn't rundown. It just has some... character."

He snorts over his shoulder. "That's what a Mom says when her daughter is ugly."

"Don't you go through PR training or something?" she scoffs as he diverts to a different aisle. "I can't imagine Gail would like to hear that particular opinion if I sold it to TMZ."

"Gail would sue you for everything you own," he laughed while flipping through an old copy of Gone with the Wind. Parker crosses her arms at him with a glare, and in response Tom flashes a too-white smile at her. "She freaked out about the mink rug, by the way. Was screaming and everything. It was hilarious."

Parker's heart stopped in her chest, but when there was no continuation of the joke—haha I can't wait to see you served with papers!—she furrowed her brows at him. "You didn't tell her it was my fault?"

A shrug as he shoved the book against her chest.

She huffed, turning the book over to check for damages, but when he turned his back... well, a part of her did wonder why he would keep that a secret if it was such a big deal. Was it to be nice? Or so he could hold it over her head indefinitely? Then again, if this was his attempt at blackmail, letting it go for two weeks seemed like the wrong way to go about it.

Deciding not to linger on unsolvable riddles, Parker returned the book to the end cap he had found it on and asked, "so, does this mean you've decided to audition for that sci-fi part after all?"

Her question went unanswered as Tom paused in front of the SEX & SEXUALITY section. He pulled a wrinkled copy of Fifty Shades of Grey off the shelf and waggled his brows at her pointedly. "Keeping the good stuff for yourself, huh?"

Parker responded by snagging the book out of his hand and stuffing it back into place. "You break it, you buy it applies here too, Ryder."

"Half this place is broken," he said with a pointed glance at the flickering overhead light. "I still can't believe you own this shithole."

"I happen to love this bookstore—"

"Oh, trust me, I can believe that you would own a bookstore," he said, and while there was nothing insulting about owning a bookstore on its own, the way that Tom spoke made it clear that owning a bookstore was not something he held in high regard. Then again, he spent all his time reading shitty scripts, so what would he know? "I just can't believe that you would own this bookstore. Like, you actually paid money for this place?"

"If you have to know, I used to be friends with the owner, and got a good deal on the property," she started to explain. He raised his brows at her while slowly perusing the RELIGION section, and Parker shook herself. She didn't need to explain anything to him of all people. The reminder helped her find some confidence, and she fluttered her hands at him irritably. "You know what—I don't need to explain myself to you. You've never even been to a bookstore before. What would you know about making sacrifices for something you believed in?"

Tom paused in his search. She saw his jaw clench, and eyes droop towards the creaky wooden floor beneath his shiny boots, and his comment from the other day drifted back to mind.

"You can be a real asshole sometimes, too, he had said.

And while guilt did block her throat up a bit—fucking asshole couldn't even let her defend herself without feeling bad about it—this time he didn't make any such reprimands. Instead, he just shrugged, before diving deeper into the store.

He cleared his throat. "I just expected it be nicer coming from you."

"Does something about me secretly scream rich girl to you?"

Tom harrumphed. "Trust me, no one is mistaking you for rich. Uptight, however..."

"Oh, ha, hilarious, Tom. God! You're such an asshole," she laughed, but it was a mean sound, paired with a mean insult. It failed to have the desired effect, however. In fact, Tom seemed to have shifted from hating the insult to owning it and looked far too amused for her liking. Frustrated, Parker decided the best plan of extermination was a straightforward shot. Through gritted teeth, she asked, "...what kind of sci-fi book do you want?"

The rhinestones on his shoulders sparkled as he shrugged. "I don't know. I need to understand what gets nerds so fucking excited about this shit. Not too nerdy, though. Alright? I'm not trying to be a Trekkie or whatever."

There were so many things wrong with that statement that Parker wasn't sure what to pick first. So, she pinched the bridge of her nose to point out, "I have a feeling the so-called nerds making up your potential fanbase aren't going to appreciate being talked about like that."

"Who's gonna tell them—you?" he asked with a derisive glance over.

It was definitely true what they said about Tom Ryder; his effect on women was instantaneous. Parker just doubted the tabloids were talking about migraines.

"The sci-fi section is on the right," she sighed while pushing past him. It was one of the larger sections she had; it hadn't been a lie to say the books weren't selling all that well despite being her favorite. "What have you read before?"

The blank look he gave her was response enough.

"Ah, right, maybe... Altered Carbon?"

"Isn't that a tv show?"

"Well, yeah, but it was a book first."

He glanced at the book in her hand, but clearly wasn't impressed. Leaning on the shelf, he said, "why the hell would I read that if I could just watch it?"

"Sound logic," she tutted with a narrow eyed look. Parker returned the book with an eyeroll. "Fahrenheit 451?"

"Read it in high school. Not impressed."

She trailed the shelf while muttering, listing books in her head before subconsciously crossing them off the list of something he was likely to read and enjoy. "I guess that means you wouldn't like The Illustrated Man or The Martian Chronicles," she said to herself.

His arm brushed her aside to pluck out a familiar novel. "Nerds love this," he said while already flipping through the pages. She was surprised the size didn't scare him off immediately.

"Nu-uh. No way," she shook her head.

"What?"

"Dune is not a starter book."

He furrowed his brows crossly. "You don't think I'm smart enough to read this shit or something?"

You shouldn't ask questions you don't want the answers to, her mother's voice echoed in the back of her head.

"Reading Dune as your first sci-fi book is like jumping straight into the deep end," she told him in a much more diplomatic approach. "If a sixteen year old wants to start drinking, you don't give him scotch, you give him a fruity cocktail."

Tom huffed; first through his nose and then through his mouth but stuffed the book back onto the shelf anyway. To which Parker then had to put it back on the correct shelf with a huff of her own.

"Don't be a baby and just trust me that Dune isn't a starter book. Okay?"

"Well—what is? You're supposed to be the expert here."

"If you weren't so picky it would be a lot easier..." she deadpanned but returned to her search anyway. Tom didn't seem to like waiting, and scowled at her as she shifted past him. She ignored him as best she could while squatting down to the lower shelves. "Arthur C. Clarke is one of the best sci-fi writers. He established a lot of rules that still exist in writing today. And films."

Parker pulled one of his novels, before moving towards Asimov, and then finally to Sagan. They were all slimmer novels than Dune, but no less complicated.

"Contact is my favorite," she said, shoving the books into Tom's arms. His denim was rough on her hands, and she tried not to think about how feverishly warm his skin had been the last time she had been this close to him. Swallowing, Parker remained on task. "But any of these should be good starter books for you to get into sci-fi with."

He glanced at the choices warily. "My audition is next week."

"Then I'm sure you'll have plenty of time to finish these if you're really serious about wanting to get that role," she chirped.

Together, they wound back towards the front counter. The TRASH boxes sat in the middle of the aisle, and she carefully toed them to the side before trailing past. While she was pretty sure he had been joking about suing her, a workplace hazard was the last thing she needed.

"How do you remember all of this?"

"Where stuff is? I spend almost all of my time arranging books. I'm uptight, remember?"

She felt more than saw his eyeroll. "These books, the authors. You, like, know everything about them."

Parker paused. It definitely wasn't a compliment, but it definitely felt like it could have been. Then again, this was Tom Ryder. When she glanced up from the counter, she found that he already has his nose back in his phone, and the conundrum of compliment versus not was thrown out the window. Parker shot him an unimpressed look to say, "please tell me that you're not on SparkNotes right now."

It was his turn to pause. "I'm just... reading the descriptions."

"Maybe that's why you can't understand why nerds like these books," she argued, hands planted firmly on her hips now. "Why would I go to watch one of your movies if I already looked the plot up on Wikipedia?"

He ignored her point entirely to smirk. "So, you do see my movies?"

"Goodbye, Tom."

"Relax. I'm not going to spoil them, alright? What's the fun in that when I could read them instead, and then leave you a bad review when the books end up being awful?"

"You mean have your assistants leave me a bad review."

He didn't seem impressed at the jab but didn't defend himself either. Most likely because they both knew she was right. Parker shot him a smug smile that he promptly rolled his eyes at. "Hilarious. Just tell me how much the books cost so I can leave before stepping on a rusty nail or something."

"Didn't you see the sign out front? Can't come in without a tetanus shot due to liability reasons."

There was a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, but when she glanced up at him, Tom was wiping a hand down his face. "How much for the books, smartass?"

Parker was pretty sure she could upsell him. There was no way that he knew those three books, decades old with ripped pages, were only worth fifteen bucks together. And with all the Gucci name brand bullshit that he wore, she was pretty sure she could get away with telling him the price was a hundred dollars and he wouldn't even blink an eye.

But he was also a customer, a somewhat work acquaintance, and someone she really didn't want to hang around any longer than necessary. Not to mention her brother's pseudo boss, and someone that knew she was guilty of wrecking a far more expensive rug than she could ever pay to fix.

"Just consider them a loan," she said before she could second guess herself. When Tom raised his eyebrows so high they disappeared into his hairline, she waved a hand at him while half-heartedly returning to her job of book sorting. "If you're that put-off by it you can always pay me an agent's fee if you get the part."

He stared at her for a long moment, not necessarily computing, definitely hearing static, before Tom spared her an over-the-top eyeroll that surely had to have hurt to perform.

From his pocket he pulled out a couple of crumpled bills and slapped them onto the counter. He didn't even look at how much money it was. Just shook his head at her, glasses bobbing on his nose, before he was on his way out the door.

"Hey! Don't you want your change—?"

The door shut with a ting.

On the counter sat seventy-three dollars. Parker wasn't sure if she should be offended or complimented.

From outside there was the sound of an obnoxiously loud car engine revving, alongside the thrum of music, before it tore off down the street.

"What a fucking asshole," she grumbled with the shake of her head.

But it wasn't exactly an asshole thing to do, when she thought about it. And she would know; every exchange they had since being introduced had Tom acting like an asshole to her.

Or, well, not every exchange. Not when he had been, almost, nice to her at Gail's party, if only for a few moments when no one else was around.

"OH. MY. GOD!" a shrill voice shrieked across the store, bouncing off of bookshelves, as two boots went crashing towards the window. Parker was reminded in no gentle terms that they had not, in fact, been alone when Melissa smudged her face against the glass to peer out onto the street. "Holy shit! That was Tom Ryder! Tom Ryder! Are you kidding me right now? TOM. RYDER."

"Yeah, Jesus, I know who that was," she winced, pinching her ear when she thought the girl's high pitch yelp may have burst an eardrum. There was definitely a ringing as Melissa tromped around.

"You—he—I can't believe after all of this time you never once mentioned that you're friends with Tom freaking Ryder!" she squeaked.

"Well, hang on, we're not—"

"How long have you known him? How do you know him? Do you have his phone number? Ohmygod everyone is going to flip when I tell them that you know him. Tom Ryder!" Melissa shouted, phone already in hand as she started typing. "My friend, my dear friend and favorite bookstore owner, is best friends with Tom Ryder! Did you see his latest movie, Good Cop, Bad Dog? Ugh! He's so hot!"

"We're not friends," she said immediately, not even bothering to dispute the fact that Good Cop, Bad Dog was a puff piece in an attempt to market him for younger fans. "He's actually kind of an asshole."

The teenager shot Parker a scandalized look, mouth popped open into an O as her brows lifted to her hairline. "What? Are you kidding me right now? He just drove all the way out here to ask for your recommendation for a sci-fi book! His house is, like, fifty minutes from here with traffic. Don't call him that when you just became so cool."

Parker frowned. "How do you know where he lives?" she asked, before adding with much more intensity, "hang on a second, am I not cool?"

But Melissa was already moving on, the sound of facetime dialing on her phone as she darted back outside in hopes of catching another glimpse of the celebrity. Parker, in response, caught her head between her hands with a low groan.

And yet, she couldn't help but think about what Melissa said.

Tom Ryder was a total, grade-A asshole... right?

She cast a despondant glance towards the crumpled bills on the counter, then the box of books at her side, before fishing her phone out of her back pocket, and pressing the second number on speed dial.

"Hey," she said, "do you want to get, like, really drunk tonight?"

Colt didn't bother to ask why before he was checking what ingredients he had in his fridge and offering to invite Jody and Dan over for dinner. Sometimes, she really loved her brother.

[infinitegalahad]

AMERICAN PROMETHEUS AND HIS ATHENA - CHAPTER ONE

Pairing: J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Identifying! Reader Summary: In the fall of 1939, You are an incoming freshman at Berkeley. Despite your love for literature and the pressure of your parents, you begrudgingly enroll in a Physics course. There you meet J. Robert Oppenheimer; your professor turned into your best friend and most importantly, your lover. Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: Nothing major, minus the huge age gap. The reader is 18, and Oppenheimer is at least thirty. Everything is legal and consensual. If this bothers you, please do not read it; thank you! Notes: gonna be a long note, so strap in folks. so i have this tendency to get hyperfocused on a piece of media, get my little gremlin hands on any piece of media about it, devour said piece of media, and then poop out 5k+ words in under 24 hours due to my obsession. this happened two years ago with safin from no time to die, and let me just say that it goes to show that history is a sick cycle. not sick, I'm just literally insane. lol, anyways! here's some lore. last Sunday i saw oppenheimer and thought it was a masterpiece! i also love cillain murphy too, so that's a massive bonus. the next day, i bought american prometheus. i started reading it on tuesday, and finished it on Friday. if you haven't read it, please go read it. the book is impossible to put down, and a lot of characterization of robert and other characters come from the movie, but mainly the novel. this fic is heavily researched. this fic is also very dark too, and the content is...yeah. the age gap is very massive and while legal, very taboo, so please keep this in mind. there will be dark content in this story so be warned. trigger warnings will be in the beginning of every chapter. this is on my tumblr and ao3 as well. here is a playlist i made while writing this , if that does anything. my masterlist is also at work too; the new and updated version will be out next chapter. <a href="url">add yourself to the taglist if you are interested</a>. thanks for reading and i hope you enjoy.

There are people talking, and while they are close, their voices are nothing but mindless mutters.

Despite how much they had to drink, the buzz managed to slow their thoughts yet made them somewhat aware of their surroundings. If you tried, not like they really wanted to, you could point out every little detail around them–all small things, meaningless and unimportant, in the vast growing universe. 

The uneven vintage ski portrait on Hatomi’s side of the room, the dim light covered by the French literature nights on the window sill, the light of the moon in boxy shapes across the aged wooden door, your feet sticking out underneath the blanket and the cool air bringing goosebump to your toes, the heat of your flashlight against your cheek; it’s all so small. 

You’ve known Hatomi, your roommate at Berkeley, for the last week. A Japanese American from Davis, she’s a lover of literature like you, albeit you’re more into Russian and American literature than French. Both of you have concluded that you are different but are different enough to put those said differences aside to be friends. Hatomi, unlike you, is smiley and bright, the type to make a conversation not as awkward. She’s made many friends, some of whom are yours, and you’re thankful for her. In your orientation week at Berkeley, she’s helped you break out of your shell, and you’ve gone around campus and to parties to get out and meet people.

As thankful as you are for Haotmi, you are not very thankful about her bringing in some guy into the room without making it clear and having full-blow sex. Hatomi tries to keep her moans contained, but the slapping and grunts from the man beneath are not in any way contained or quiet. He’s as loud as possible, and you can identify him from one of the many parties you’ve been to, but all of them in your state become a gradual blur. 

There’s a visible outline of the two through your quilt. Hatomi’s on top, and said the man is on the bottom with messy hair. He’s got a hand on her hip, and she nudges forward, her body moving forward. It makes you feel even lonelier than you already feel, but it's not intentional, but it’s certainly a jab. Hatomi cries his name, an emphasis on the end of his name. 

You haphazardly try to catch his name, but end up forgetting it, the alcohol from earlier helping sing you to sleep. 

–

It soon became a cycle—the whole lot of it. 

You’d wake up at seven for your eight in the morning English class. Then you’d head to your philosophy class from nine-thirty to ten-thirty before heading to lunch at eleven. After that break, then comes your Greek class from twelve to one. Then it’s physics. 

It’s not that you don’t like physics. Actually, you love it—the concept is fascinating. The movement, gravity, and being a small thing in the grand scheme of the infinite universe is a topic you could dive into for hours on end. And not to mention, you have a burning hatred for the mathematics of it. You know you can do introductory algebra, but that’s where you draw the line. Calculus and all of that is too advanced. You can do it; at the bare minimum. 

Your class is not that big. It’s your smallest class with ten students, all intrigued by a fascinating professor. 

The first time you met him, he stood by the chalkboard with a huff of smoke following behind him. He wore a dark gray tweed suit and had thick, coarse hair which was wild, maintained with gel. He was tall but not towering and rather slender. With the bluest eyes you had ever seen, you knew that this man was a character; not to mention, he also looked intelligent. 

And that he was. 

Dr.Oppenheimer was the reason you started actually to love physics. Not like, love. He was not an easy teacher; he was complex but rewarding. He took the concept of physics and made it more interesting than it already was, adding another dimension to it that you didn’t think was possible. 

Instead of the class being a lecture, Oppenheimer discussed the fundamental forces and philosophy. He, like you, enjoyed how physics interacted with the classical world. With a cigarette in one hand and a piece of chalk in another, and in his velvety voice, Oppenheimer taught something along the lines of the cosmic universe or the quantum tunnel and would look to his students for their input, arguments, questions, or their voice to the topic. 

You know, or thought he knew, that you weren’t the best at physics, but could always add a philosophical or insight on how physics affects both in the modern and classical world. Sometimes in class, the two of you would dive into a conversation. Oppenheimer would give you a serious loo, staring directly at you with his bright blue eyes. You could have sworn they were the bluest eyes you had ever seen, in which you were. As you challenge you, Oppenehiemr would stare, blowing the occasional puff of smoke. You could see him smile, but maybe that was a part of your imagination. 

Physics was complicated, but not only did you enjoy the class for Oppenheimer, but you also look at Oppenheimer. You would not have said it initially, but he did come and was attractive to you. He looked serious, older, and cold; which all remained true, but he was also intelligent, and that was the most attractive thing to you. His intelligence made him overall even more handsome than he already was. With this new found elevation, you soon began to find everything he did attractive. It became a slight distraction, but it was enough to make you leave class with pink cheeks and smile to yourself all giddy. The fantastical thoughts of “what if” played in your mind, making going to sleep a little easier than it usually it. 

–

On Monday, Oppenheimer deemed that your class was heading into the “most brutal” and “nightmare-causing”  fundamental force of Physics; Quantum Mechanics. 

He also declared it was one of his favorite micro topics in Physics and, in his mind, “not too difficult if you truly look into it.”

 Everyone got a horrible gut feeling in their stomachs. 

Oppenheimer was blunt and did not sugarcoat, which was a fair warning to his class. Quantum Mechanics took everything that was horrible about Physics and made it increasingly worse. Wavefunctions, Eigenstates, Quantum Measurement, and all the new equations hit you like a frictional force. And it began to show on your assignments. 

Your normal average in the class was an A- (with Oppenheimer giving you an E for “exceptional effort”) hanging off the side of a cliff, but this new topic dragged your average down with massive magnetic force. Soon, your average became a B-. Homework assignments and reading responses leaned towards a B, while your test and quizzes averaged at failing or border failing. You felt relieved that one of your quizzes on Bra-Ket Notation came back as a C+. 

Oppenheimer was writing on the board, finishing a Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle equation on the board. He looked at the clock, knowing that class was going to end soon. Putting his chalk down and burning the small amount of his cigarette on the ashtray, he reached for a large stack of his papers. Most had red handwriting with circles, arrows, and question marks. A heavy wave of anxiety hit the class as a perpetual sigh raised. 

You could have sworn Oppenheimer stared directly at you. The vast blue eye started to haunt you, but you convinced yourself it was your mind playing tricks. You turned to one of your neighborhoods and sighed, shaking your head. 

“I understand you are all eager to receive back the recent test on the basic equations of Quantum Mechanics. I have taken my time grading each one and you will see why it looks like a long time,” Oppenheimer noted, with a tinge of dark comedy and sarcasm in his voice. He didn’t look up at the class as he walked around, gently putting each paper on the desk. Each paper he put down made a student who was having a good day a very not good day.

Between the heavy sighs and whispers between the students, you gulped as Oppenheimer passed your desk. He looked down for a split second and put your paper down. He pointed to the red writing right where you had written your name before moving on. Gathering yourself, you grabbed the test, and not your shock, was disappointed. 

Out of forty-five points, you had only gotten nine. It was a new low you had hit in the class. It seemed like it would keep getting lower. Everything was far from right, and he gave those points only because you tried by writing a passage by each equation explaining what you had tried to replicate, knowing it was very wrong. 

You skimmed the front, noticing the red writing on top. He wrote your name in cursive, and you would hear him say it, asking you to “please” meet him. 

And then the bell rang. People talked amongst themselves and gathered their things as they headed out of the classroom. You sat there and sighed, visibly upset. You weren’t going to cry, but you felt like it. You tried not to show it as you began to gather your books, covering the physics test, preparing to get up. 

“Y/n.”

You freeze and look up. Oppenheimer has been leaning on his desk, looking at you like a dashing Spectre. He puts his hands in his pockets and slowly begins to walk towards you. 

“Is this a good time to talk?”

Hearing the word talk made your stomach turn. You look up at him and clasp your hands together, nodding. You feel your left leg begin to shake. 

“Yes, Dr.Oppenheimer.”

Oppenheimer made his way over and stood beside you, leaning on the side of a desk, looking down at you. He took a quick glance at your shaking leg before looking back at you.

“You’re not in trouble.” 

You didn’t verbally acknowledge him, but you took a contained sigh and stopped shaking your thigh, paying full attention to the attractive older man. 

“I want to preface this conversation that you, Y/n, are one of this class’s most active and enjoyable students. Your participation and observation add onto the lesson, helping others around you, and even myself, learn more about Physics,” Oppenheimer said with high praise. He had a regalness to his soft voice. You felt your cheeks burn, containing your smile as you quietly thanked him. You watched his hands fidget inside of his pants pocket. 

“As talented and educated as you are in Academia, especially Physics, I notice you don’t do well on tests and exams. Everything else is excellent, and your effort is always there. However, with tests,” Oppenheimer moved his hand downwards, “It’s all negative. When I got your first test, I found it hard to believe it was your work. But then it all made sense.” 

“Now understand, Y/n, I am not mad or upset. I am worried. I can see there is an act of force, which is your anxiety. I do believe this is something we can work on–” Oppenheimer clearly explained. He saw your shoulders lower, relieve your tension had disappeared, “--Together, outside of the academic setting.”

“Like one-on-one?” You questioned. 

Oppenheimer nodded, “Yes, just the two of us. It would be an hour and a half to an hour, nothing more and nothing less.”

Hearing “just the two of us” made your mind go to wild places. You bit your tongue and squeezed your clasped hands together. You smiled, “Yes, of course. I think this would help a lot.”

“Now tell me, what is your availability? I understand you are busy.”

You shrugged your shoulders. You were busy but also could make time for a lot of spare time. 

“I can do any time work, preferably if you are okay with Friday afternoons,” You brainstormed, thinking about your schedule, “I know you teach a graduate class in the morning, and I have Greek at the same time.”

Oppenheimer furrowed his eyebrows, intensely studying your appearance.

“Friday afternoons?” He questioned, “Don’t you want to be with your friends and not have to worry about work? I understand your drive, Y/n, but I don’t want it to mix with your limited downtime. I hear you are an excellent student, and this is a very fixable grade. I rather you create a balance than an offset. 

While an average first-year would rather skip meeting with a Professor on Friday Afternoons, it didn’t bother you. Getting your grade up in Physis was very important. Education in your family was everything and meant a lot to you. Seeing a C with A’s and A-’s made you feel incomplete. You needed to feel complete. 

“Dr.Oppenheimer, thank you for your concern. I insist that Fridays work as well. Mondays through Tuesdays, I’m either studying or leading other study groups for my other classes. If you are worried about my social life, I can assure you that I do get out of the dorm and library with my friends,” You reassured the older man, “Besides, the whole party scene is really not my scene. I’ve seen enough parties at Berkeley to be okay with missing them. If Fridays don’t work, I will work with your time.”

“Fridays work well for me as they work well for you,” Dr.Oppenheimer concluded. He looked at the clock above his desk before looking at you, “How do Fridays at 5 pm sound?”

“Perfect timing, Dr.Oppenheimer. Shall we meet here?”

Oppenheimer rubbed his index and middle finger on the temple of his head, “Well if you are comfortable, I’d rather congregate at my house rather than the classroom since we will be out of the Academic Day.”

Taken aback by the bold move, your lips made a subtle “o” shape. You squeezed your hands together, contemplating. His house, where he slept, ate, and did other things that were not fit for the academic setting? This made your imagination run wild—the idea of being in his house, just you and him, fed into your fantasy. 

“My house is on Shasta Road. It’s right off the campus. It’s a short walk. However, if you are not comfortable, especially late at night walking home alone, then I can–” 

“Dr.Oppenheimer,” You insisted. He stopped speaking and looked at you, waiting for you to speak.

You stuttered, feeling the heat up your throat to your face, “It is okay. Friday at 5 pm at your house is perfect. The walk will help me clear my mind before tackling the equations.”

Oppenheimer studied your features for a second before coughing and putting his hands together, “So, it’s settled. We will meet tomorrow then. Thank you for your time, y/n.”

As Oppenheimer began to head back to his desk, you stood and gathered your books, ready to head to your Greek class. You could feel how hot your face was, but you couldn’t imagine how red and embarrassing you looked. 

“Thank you, Dr.Oppenheimer. 

Scurrying to leave the classroom in a flustered state, one of your books falls over. It makes a loud slamming noise into the ground. You’ve got a solid amount of books in your hand, varying in topic and weight. Turning around, you are about to awkwardly bend down to pick up the book, but Oppenheimer has beaten you to it. His presence scared you at first. He’s holding the ivory, aged book, examining the cover and back. You stand two inches away from him as you cradle your books, not wanting to say something to disrupt him. 

“Sentimental Education. Is this for class or pleasure?” Oppenheimer inquired. He looked back at you as he placed it on top of your books. He saw the one below, your Greek textbook, was sticking out and about to fall. He made sure to push it in to balance the books and make sure you didn't fall over. 

Not that you were complaining about falling over since he would have to catch you. You cursed at your wild imagination. 

You let out a long uhm before declaring it was for class. More specifically, your English class of The French Adventure: Word, Sound, and Image taught by Mr.Chevalier. But it was unimportant. It was a good book, albeit obscure. Oppenheimer probably thought you were some idiot for both failing a test and reading some silly book. He probably wondered why you were even in a physics class to begin with. 

“Do you like it?” He questioned. 

“Yes, a lot,” You expressed, “It’s the second book we’ve read, but so far my favorite. It was ahead of its time,” You go red, “And even for this time. I don’t know what I’m saying even, my parents made me read it in high school.”

Oppenheimer made a noise of approval, placing his hands on his hips, “Well, it shows that your parents wanted you to be well-rounded, and here you stand at one of the best public universities in the world. So I would say you do know what you are saying since I fully agree.” 

The compliment made you want to make some happy noise, but you bite your lip. You nodded your head and naked it, knowing it came out as a mumble. Everything you said felt super embarrassing. 

“Y/n, I understand you have class,” Oppenheimer cut to the point, “But if you ever want a book recommendation, come to me. I’ve been looking for someone who understands.”

“Understand?” You asked, dumbfounded. 

“Someone who both understands and enjoys art.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage to say. You smile and hold your books closer, “Well, I should-”

“You should-” Oppenheimer highlighted, hands on his hips, “I shouldn’t keep you.”

You wanted to protest that he should, but you didn’t. As you made your way to the door, you looked back. There he stood in his slender and regal form, hands on his hips. For a cold man who never looked happy, he did. You could have sworn his eyes had a spark to them that made them brighter. You felt brighter too. 

On your way out, he froze and looked at you again, and gave a small smile. 

You smiled back. 

–

It’s 4:50pm.

Your mother always said it was better to be very early than to be very late. Those words guided you through life, following you from home to high school to Berkeley. 

After class, you spent the hour getting ready. Taking a shower, you made sure to look your best with low effort. You didn’t want it to appear that you were trying to look good, even though you wore it. Putting on something very casual, you made sure to wear yourself nicely and even added a sweet touch of Chanel Coco perfume that your father had gotten for you in France for your high school Graduation. 

You walk up the hill and spot the house, recognizing the numbers on the mall box. The house is well sized and has the architecture of a craftsman. It’s hidden by numerous large plants and bushes, which you take a second to admire as you walk to the door. Eventually, you reach the door and hesitate to knock. Check your watch, it’s 5:52pm. If he’s busy, you can wait. 

There’s no point in knocking since you can hear the lock on the door unlock. As you put your hands behind your back, the door opens and it reveals Oppenheimer. He looks weirdly normal and this comforts you. He swaps his flannel suit jacket for a white oxford button up with dark slacks. The top button of the shirt is unbuttoned, and in one hand he has a cigarette, in which he is trying to successfully hide. 

“Dr.Oppenheimer,” You greeted with a small smile, squeezing your hands behind your back. 

You could swear you saw a small quirk at the side of Oppenheimer’s mouth. He stands to the side. 

“Y/n, welcome,” He greets. You quietly thank in as you walk in, standing to the side as you clutch onto your brown leather alligator bag with your textbook and notebook. 

“How was the walk?”

“Not bad. It’s nice outside. I’m sorry if I’m early, it’s a bad habit-”

“No need to apologize. It is a good habit. It will serve you well,” Oppenheimer praised once again as he led you into the kitchen. You hadn't been alone with him, let alone in his own house, but he was different. Around others, he was cold and calculated to a tee. But around you, something felt warm and strangely comforting. 

When walking to the kitchen, you catch a glimpse of his house. It feels rather empty, and in a way, very melancholic. 

The kitchen is simple and small. For a California one story however, the kitchen can fit more than two, maybe three. 

“Sit,” Oppenheimer subtly commands. It’s not an intentional command, but upon hearing this, you immediately sit down on the nearest chair. As you pull out your textbook and notebook with some pens and pencils, you can see Oppenheimer rummaging through the fridge and grabbing two glasses. 

“Do you drink?”

You're in the middle of opening your notebook. You look down and lick your lips. 

“Yes.”

He doesn’t respond and proceeds to make whatever drink he is making. You sit there and swing your legs back and forth, waiting in silence minus the shaking and pouring. 

“Speak to me,” Oppenheimer announces. You look at his back as he makes the drink. Once again, he’s slender, but yet strong and vibrant in his appearance, “Go to the first page of your test. Read the equation.” 

You feel lucky Oppenheimer’s turned since your cheeks, like yesterday, have gone to a light pink. 

Obeying his words that feel like a command that you are more than happy to accept, you grab your test and open to the first page to read the first question. 

“Consider a particle in a one-dimensional potential well of width of L and infinite potential barriers at its edges. The potential inside the well is given by V(x)=0 for 0<x<L0<x<L and V(x)=∞V(x)=∞ for x < 0 x<0 and x>Lx>L,” You read out, “The Hamiltonian operator for this system is H; where x is the mass of the particle. Find the allowed energy eigenvalues and corresponding eigenfunctions for this system.”

“A fundamental. Now, tell me your answer.” 

You get your pen and calculator out, placing it at your side. “I started with the Time-Independent Schrödinger Equation and substituted v(x) for the kinetic energy term. Then I tried to solve and it, uhm-”

Not only were the calculations for your test both difficult to answer and hard to process, but having Oppenheimer stand right behind you further proved to be a brain block. He was only an inch away from you as he had leaned to look at your paper, a hand on the back of your sheet which scraped your warm back. You had been so caught on the equation that you hadn't noticed he was an inch behind you, breathing down your neck. Thank god there had been a table since your legs began to shake; a combination of raw anxiety and pure adrenaline. 

You started to write the equation into your calculator, pressing down on each button. Scribbling away at your notebook, you felt his warm breath down your throat. Just as you wrote the solution, you felt him smell behind your ear and into your hair. You had sprayed some perfume there, which was a habit of yours. He leaned into, gentle and careful not to touch you, taking in the airy and smooth feminine scent. Not protesting, you finished your solution and let him bask, all while basking his cold yet comforting presence.

 “The corresponding eigenfunctions are: ∣ψn⟩= Asin⁡(nπxL)∣ψ n ⟩ =Asin( Lnπx ),” You gulped. You felt his warm presence move back, yet his hand remained on the chair. You pushed a piece of hair back, “I guess it��s not too different from my old answer. It’s right, it’s just-”

“The math piece of it,” Oppie pointed out, “Well, there was no issue here. With your calculator of course.”

“Yes,” You chuckled to yourself and looked at the big device. It really did help.

“Use it more,” Oppenheimer said, “Don’t be scared too. Math is not everyone’s strong suit; including mine.”

You smiled at him as he sat in the chair next to you. 

“I don’t know if you drank from our conversation earlier, but I made you a martini,” Oppenheimer said. You looked at it and picked up the drinking, examining the liquid. 

“Oh, thank you. I do, just the…better stuff,” You thanked with a small confession. You took a sip and let the strong liquid ooze down your throat. It was excellent, in which you proceeded to drink more. 

Oppenheimer leaned back in his chair and smiled to himself. He wanted to make sure you didn’t see that, but you did. 

For the next hour, the two of you talked about your test. Each question you read out, and he helped you with the math, but overall you were able to solve most of it. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress. He seemed pleased, and you were as well.

Once you had finished going over the test, you sighed and leaned back leisurely from both Oppenheimer's presence Martini. 

“Well, thank you, Dr.Oppenheimer. This has been short, yet helpful.”

He crossed his arms as he also leaned back, “Of course, I’m pleased to hear.”

There was a silence before you looked at your watch and grabbed your books. 

“It’s 6pm. I’m sure you’ve got things to do, I should go-”

“I’ve only got dinner to make. Chicken, peas, and potatoes,” Oppenheimer said. He smoked another cigarette, which made you wonder how many he smoked a day. You focused on his chapped lips and the way they lightly held the cigarette, sucking in and dragging out ashen smoke. 

“Say, would you like to stay for dinner? There's plenty for two.”

The task made you blink a few times to make sure this wasn’t one of your fantastical thoughts late at night as a way to soothe you to bed. You opened your lips in an attempt to create a coherent response. 

“I can make you another Martini, even show you.”

You knew you were red, but it clearly to him did not matter. 

“Yes, I’d love-would be happy to stay for dinner, Dr.Oppenheimer.” You said, very flattered.

A slow exhale released a veil of smoky allure, as if the very air itself surrendered to Oppenheimer’s fiery elegance.

“If you are staying over for dinner from now on, please, call me Robert.” 

[tetedurfarm]

can't remember if i ever really gave the full story here, but some of you may remember a couple years ago when i was constantly losing rabbits around around weaning age from a mystery disease and i'd like to talk about it to maybe help others. it has now been over a year of implementing the new weaning protocol and my losses have dropped from 90+% to almost zero.

obvious tw for animal death and discussion of disease.

symptoms: no appetite, severe grimace, bloating, dehydration, occasionally diarrhea. necropsy revealed discolouration of the kidneys on some animals but not all. symptoms would occur suddenly and kill within 48 hours. bodies were often found with legs extended and heads thrown back against the shoulders. some close to death animals would show neurological signs (shaking, stargazing, unable to stand,) attributed to bloating pressure on the nerves inside the body.

attempted treatments: force feeding with critical care mixed with electrolytes, probiotics, and sometimes caecotrope slurry. five days on five days off five days on treatments of toltrazuril dissolved in water; syringed to animals who would not willingly drink. treatment with corid on the five days off. multiple doses of simethicone oral suspension daily for bloating. banamine for pain. cleaning cages between growout groups with bleach, virkon, and torching.

lastly, i took a freshly dead rabbit (euthanised by me because it was near death anyway,) to a local exotics vet for professional necropsy. vet diagnoses: massive amounts of cocci. however, treatment with powerful coccidiostats were not having any significant impact on kit death, especially in winter, when conditions are wet.

i was genuinely at a loss. i spent about fourteen months (longer than i know i should have, and i still feel very guilty about it) trying to get a grip on this disease. i was at my breaking point. i was losing entire litters overnight, within two weeks of weaning them. coccidiostats helped a tiny bit but clearly it wasn't just the cocci that was the problem. however, no other disease i could find listed on any of the rabbit disease and treatment website or books sounded remotely close to what i was experiencing. the symptoms were so generic (rabbits love coming down with mysterious gut problems), and the necropsy done by the vet had basically found nothing else.

thoroughly cleaning the walls, floors, feeders, and water cups of each cage with bleach and a torch had a marginal but noticable affect not on how many kits became ill, but on how long it took them to become ill.

this was a disease that affected almost exclusively young rabbits. i have had four adult rabbits become infected with the disease; of those, two survived the above treatment regimen. all other deaths (and there were a lot,) were kits around 6-9 weeks of age.

but absolute chance i was having a little bit of a crisis on my rabbit breeder's discord server about how i was one more dead litter from getting out of rabbits entirely. which...if you've been here a while, you know is a huge fucking deal to me. it was not possible for me to go scorched-earth on cocci in my current barn, which is open-fronted with dirt floors, so my only remaining option was to cull or rehome my animals and try again once i had a new barn that i could clean more easily. in the midst of throwing around last-ditch effort treatments to look into, i offhandedly mentioned that bleaching cages helped a little.

and then @/bonefarm said 'well bleach doesn't touch cocci, so if bleach helps, it's probably bacterial.'

which led to: 'y'know it almost sounds like clostridial disease, like you vaccinate hoofstock for'

so i thought y'know what. fuck it. a vial of CDT vaccine is ten bucks at the co-op. it literally cannot make things worse. so when my next litters got to weaning age, i bought a vial, some 22 gauge needles, and jabbed them all on their way to the growout cage. in two weeks - the point in which normally, if they hadn't already started dying, they definitely would begin dropping - i revaccinated them.

and then none of them died.

when i tell you i nearly cried.

it took a few more months to really get a full hold on the situation, as the weather in washington in fall and spring is unpredictable and can put a lot of stress on a kit already dealing with leaving mom and being in a new group situation with other rabbits it may not know, but i was starting to get litters where i would maybe lose one or two, and most litters all kits lived to butcher age. i also learned that timely revaccination is ABSOLUTELY necessary as they can and will start dying again. as is cleaning out the cage after each group. but for ten dollars my rabbits were suddenly staying alive.

now the routine is, a week or so before i wean kits (around 4-6 weeks of age), i vaccinate kits with CDT. now i use insulin needles, as they are 1cc syringes (you typically won't need more than that,) and the tiny needles are easier on little baby bunnies, but the smallest gauge needles you can find (at my feed store the smallest they carry is 22 gauge) works just as well. in two weeks i buy a new vial and revaccinate.

the dosage is .1cc per pound (~0.5kg) of weight, so a vial goes a long way.

i still lose the occasional kit, and sometimes there'll be a couple that get icky but get over it in a couple days, and those are animals i don't keep back for breeding to try and build some sort of resistence to it. in the future i hope to not have to deal with this, but it will probably take years. hopefully the new barn with better climate control and concrete floors will cut down on the bacterial load in the animals by a lot.

i don't know why this is a problem i am dealing with, but i can't be the only one. if you're out there dealing with mystery GI disease in your rabbits that won't respond to other treatments...consider stopping by your local farm store and buying a little vial of CDT vaccine and some needles.

[alexsoenomel]

Kiss The Girl (Joel Miller x Reader fluff)

Summary: A Friday night brought something sweet and unexpected. 

Warnings: reader is a smoker (because same), wine consumption, no use of (Y/N)

Word count: 1.7k

Note: I was indulging in my own scenarios and this happened. It is literally a self-insert fanfic about my favorite dilf because I needed comfort. Enjoy!

It would be a lie if you told yourself you didn't wish that he was your man. It would be a lie if you told your friends you didn't like anyone. There was someone – and that someone was living right across the street from you. That someone had a name – Joel. Joel Miller. His name would roll down your tongue like honey and would make your head turn every time someone would say it. His tall frame, broad shoulders, messy dark hair, and soft puppy-like eyes would make your eyes fixed on him and only him. There was something so captivating and hypnotizing about Joel getting into his truck every morning for work, you couldn't look away. You would sit on your porch, having your first cup of coffee in one hand, book in another, and with a cigarette between your lips, watching him between reading. Your roommates would usually sleep in, or be already on their way to the campus so mornings were perfect for processing your existence while also doing some reading in the morning sunlight.

The view was also nice; the view being soon to be a 35-year-old man with seemingly soft and kissable lips.

You would occasionally tutor his daughter, Sarah, mainly helping her with essays and assignments in English. Your heart would always beat a little bit faster whenever he would text you or call you to ask if you were available. Of course, even if you weren't available, you would clear your schedule because those few minutes of interaction with Joel were more important than whatever you planned to do that day. You knew you were desperate, but since no one knew how much, it was fine. His soft brown eyes scanning your delicate features and making your cheeks red were moments you would replay over and over again like a broken camera in your mind every night before bed, wondering if you had a chance with him. He didn't seem bothered by your presence like you were by his. He seemed to like chatting with you, listening to your every word but that wouldn't last long since he was always busy with something or had to go to work.

On a rainy Friday evening, your roommates decided to get completely smashed in the local club since finals week was over and you were finally free to breathe, but you were too tired and drained to join them. You were too tired to dance, too tired for small talk with random dudes who were desperate for sex, and too tired to be a designated driver, since your two friends liked to pretend to be Lords and chug alcohol like water.

You weren't tired of a cheap bottle of wine though, and a new book you bought a few months ago that has been collecting dust on the shelf above your bed. Also listening to the sound of rain pouring under the blanket in your favorite spot in the house that wasn't your bedroom

– the porch – was your way of having fun on that particular Friday night.

Since it was almost 10 pm, and your dimmed porch lights weren't enough, your little book lamp finally came in handy. You put a cigarette between your wine-stained lips, since cheap wine without nicotine wasn't wine, and lit it up. You inhaled the smoke, feeling the sour taste of alcohol slowly turn into an expensive Italian liquid gold – or so your taste buds thought it did. You were about to turn the page of your book when you heard the familiar sound of someone's truck. Joel Miller came back from work. You glanced at him across the street just as he was closing the door, inhaling another smoke, already feeling yourself getting nervous. Instead of staring and being a creep, you decided to focus on your book – if only you knew what happened in the previous line.

"Enjoying your Friday night?", you heard his voice from a distance.

You lifted your head to see your favorite dad approaching you. You swallowed nervously, taking a big sip from the wine bottle.

"Oh yeah," you said, wanting to sound proud. "How's work?"

"Same ol' same ol'," he answered you.

"Care to join?" You asked giving him the wine bottle. "Finals week is over and I'm celebrating."

You noticed through dimmed lights a small half smile on Joel's tired face. He took a bottle and sat on the chair next to you. "Was it successful?"

"Yeah, passed everything with overall good grades."

"Good girl."

Good girl.

You could feel your palms and legs under the blanket getting cold as your heart started running a damn marathon. His husky voice was smooth like a fine glass of old whiskey, and you were getting intoxicated. You took another smoke, before putting out the cigarette on the ashtray.

"Y'know that ain't healthy?" His eyes glanced at the ashtray before looking back at you.

You were in the process of lighting another cigarette. When nervous, you would become a chain smoker.

"My vice, I guess."

Joel took another sip of wine as you inhaled the smoke into the air. "What's yours, Joel?"

"My vice? I would rather not."

You knew he didn't like to share personal information so you let him be. It would be strange if he did.  

"What are you readin'?" He asked, looking at your book.

"Kiss the Girls by James Patterson."

"One of those romance books?"

"Not really," you chucked. "Thriller, someone is inducting beautiful talented girls all over the country."

Joel's eyebrows went up, not expecting that to come out of your mouth. "Interesting taste, darlin'," he said.

Darlin'

That one you heard before and it still made your body stiff as a statue from nervousness. You struggled to look him in the eyes; to try and see what was behind those beautiful brown orbs; to try and read him; even though that was almost impossible since Joel Miller was an old book full of dead metaphors. You desperately wanted to know if he would kiss you back if you dared to drunkenly place your lips on his. You wondered if he would cup your face while doing so…you wondered if he would lay in bed with you if you told him to stay.

"How's Sarah?" You asked, wanting to shake off the shyness that was slowly creeping in.

"Good, she got an A on her English essay, thanks to you."

You smirked remembering the deal you had made with Sarah. She noticed (kids always do), something was up with you since you would blush every time Joel would call you darlin'. She noticed you acting too friendly around her dad so naturally she decided to confront you about it.

"So, you like my dad, huh?" She asked you on a Wednesday while doing homework.

Your heart went in your throat when your ears registered her question.

"No, I don't." You lied.

"Yeah, darlin' you do. You're too obvious."

"Fuck!" Left your lips. You instantly regretted it.

"HA!"

"Please don't tell him!"

"I won't, but you have to write me this essay."

"Sarah!"

"I'm too lazy! Plus you don't want me to get an F and disappoint my dad, right?" She winked. Cheeky stunt she pulled.

"Fine!"

****

"I'm glad!" You told him. "She's a smart kid!" Yeah, she was alright…

The thing with Joel was certain parts of him were sealed shut, but only certain. He liked talking to you especially because you both shared the same love for music. He liked talking to you about your favorite songs, bands, historical music events, guitars… You knew he played guitar and you asked him numerous times if he wanted to play you a song; he would always decline. After a couple of tries, you stopped asking.

"You know, – you started, taking a sip of wine followed by cutting your life short by 7 minutes with a smoke – "I've always wanted to learn how to play guitar."

"Is that so?" You could see a half smile forming on his face before he took a sip.

"Yeah, but I never did. It was always something, school, homework, too broke to afford guitar lessons…too broke to afford a guitar."

"I can teach you if you want."

"That means you have to play in front of me, and you always say no to that."

"I can make an exception." His gaze was fixed on you and yours was on him. A pleasant science was lingering in the air as you both enjoyed each other's company. You were feeling tipsy while Joel was sober as a judge.

"That would be awesome." Alcohol in your system was giving you a warm hug, telling you to go for it, to say the unsaid, to do the forbidden. Your body was finally relaxed enough, but your mind was in a haze. You had a feeling you were going to do something stupid and you liked the idea of doing something stupid at that particular moment.

The undying need to know, to find out – it was simmering and about to explode.

You put out the cigarette, taking a deep breath, before leaning in and placing a kiss on his cheek. Joel froze for a second, not understanding what happened for a few seconds before his brain caught on. He gave you a soft look, admiring your courage before he returned the favor and kissed your drunken lips. It was a soft, gentle kiss just to make you wonder what it would be like to devour him whole. You wanted this little innocent pack to turn into something sinful – but it didn’t.

“A little bird told me your secret, honey.” He confessed.

“Of course she did,” You chuckled.

Joel’s fingers went in your hair, tucking one strand behind your ear. He found your red cheeks cute.

“You know, you’re obvious when you stare.”

“Stop lookin’ like that, and I won’t.”

Joel laughed. It had been a while since he did.

“DAD!” A voice yelled across the street. It was Sarah, standing in front of the front door of their house. “WHERE ARE YOU?!”

“COMIN’, BABY GIRL!” Joel yelled back and looked back at you.

“Go,” –You said – “And tell her I said thank you.”

“Will do!” Joel gave you a wink and left.

[queerfanfiction]

Love Notes (Ch. 6)

Larissa Weems x musicteacher!Reader Thank you for being so supportive, even though it has been literal months since I have updated!! I will try to post a bit more regularly (but also who knows because depression is a bitch).

AO3 link

You decide to hop up and shower after Enid’s inadvertent pep talk, feeling more hopeful now than you have in days. After getting dressed and stocking the bathroom for recently arrived students, you head to Jericho. It’s time to finalize scavenger hunt plans. You don’t want to wait weeks and drag out the process through secret codes in your mixes.

Flowers were taken care of, thanks to your new acquaintance James. You had also created a few other clues but needed to access a few places, like the bookstore, in town to complete them. You try to push your latest trip with Larissa to Jericho from your mind as you begin jogging the wooded path from Nevermore grounds to the town square. The crisp spring air was welcomed, and hopefully you could use this time to clear your head. Besides, you didn’t want to check-out any vehicles to drive in case Larissa was nearby. Her quarters were right above the school’s scheduling office, and you weren’t ready to face her just yet.

Once you’re severely out of breath and think the pain in your side will topple you, you finally reach the outskirts of Jericho. Your pace slows, and you begin to map out a to-do list in your head. At the bookstore, you’ll need magazines and the clerk’s cooperation on the day of the scavenger hunt. At the flower shop, you’ll need to ensure James was able to secure lilies and might lend his labor in planting and arranging them. At the Weathervane, you will need to clue the new barista in on your plan. Since Tyler is now a guest of the state after everything went down a couple months ago, a new barista was hired. You two are friendly due to your aggressive kindness when they would accidentally make mistakes during training. You hated that people in town weren’t understanding of the realities of service work. Finally, you will need to visit city hall to ensure you don’t need a permit to occupy the public space around the fountain in the middle of the square.

As you check things off your list, you realize you still need a way to ensure Larissa makes it to the book store once in Jericho. You ponder this as you head back to Nevermore—this time at a reasonable pace. Once on the grounds, you cross through the courtyard to the dorms and see Enid giggling with Yoko. You smile softly at their carefree banter. It’s at this moment you have the idea to loop Enid into the scavenger hunt, especially since she had helped you put things into perspective when you were secluded away in your room. It’s also at this time that you know it would probably be a terrible idea to entrust Nevermore’s gossip queen with a secret regarding the school’s principal. Stumped at this conundrum, you trek up to your room to leaf through the magazines from the bookstore you bought.

You get to work creating the aspects needed to complete the scavenger hunt—a new mix CD, cut out letters, a fake newspaper crossword, and so on. After an hour or two, your energy and attention span begin to falter without food. Your eyes wander to the clock; with students back on the school’s campus, you could catch dinner before the cafeteria closes if you leave now. You toss on an oversized maroon cardigan and head downstairs.

As you wander, you wonder if Larissa will be tucked away in her office with dinner and wine like she usually is. You desperately missed the time you two would spend together. You also speculate about whether or not you two would stay friends if she rejected you. You think too highly of her to be sour if her heart does not feel the same magnetic tug that yours does.

—

The same morning as your talk with Enid, Larissa awoke in sweats. She normally regulated her body temperature well and wasn’t terribly affected by nightmares. She’d lived through enough monsters to not be effected by them in dreams. Recently, however, she had been agitated…fitful. She knew why, even though she tried to rationalize it away.

She didn’t have a lot of friendships, let alone close ones. Shapeshifters never do. That’s why she constantly worked so hard to change the perceptions of outcasts—both within and outside the community. Whatever she had with you, Larissa feared she had ruined it. At the beginning of her relationship with you, there was a feeling between you of treading carefully, of testing boundaries. When could you be silly or drop the professional façade? That hesitance quickly dissipated and was replaced with comfort and familiarity. Unfortunately, Larissa had learned to rely on it. She craved it. It balanced her. Letting others in didn’t come easily, yet it felt like you were meant to know her.

After giving it more thought, Larissa isn’t completely sure if seeing you flirt with someone made her lash out or if it was about being confronted with her own feelings for you. Regardless, the underlying fear came true—damaging her relationship with you.

Once her breathing steadied after waking, she peered around her room. Her living quarters used to feel so luxurious and private, something completely hers in a boarding school that constantly pulled her in so many directions. Now, though, all she can sense is emptiness in the space. Bitter echoes of joyous moments she had with you throughout the room lingered.

Not only did you vanish from her room and office, but she hadn’t visibly seen you since that day at the Weathervane. You were no where to be found these last couple weeks. Instead of regularly creating music in the orchestra room and popping into her office, the library, the conservatory, and student dorms, you had hidden away. She knows this, because she had asked around about you to various faculty (and even some students). Larissa’s schedule often took her throughout Nevermore, and she ached to catch a glimpse of you—check in on you in some way. It wasn’t until she stepped away from answering emails to drink tea on her balcony for a moment that she saw you. You were outside in the spring air, heading away from the school.

Larissa had never seen you in athletic clothing…mainly because you two had joked about running being a punishment, that it was often a mutually constituted performance by people who bought into traditional, often limited ideas of health. Of course, that’s not why seeing you stunned her.

Rather, her heart ached. She felt panicked, as if she should make a decision about what to do right then and there before you ran completely out of sight. With a deep, slow breath to hinder acting impulsively, Larissa began to consider her options. Is it better to swallow the hurt and try to salvage the friendship? Surely, only a friendship with you is better than being without you completely. Or would doing that and being close with no hope for a future together hurt worse? Could she handle seeing you with the florist all the time? Larissa sat her teacup down to rub her temples.

A distant knock at the door to her office pulled her away from her thoughts. She stepped inside and called for the visitor to enter. There was work to do, meetings to be held. Quickly and neatly compartmentalizing her thoughts and emotions, Larissa moved forward to greet the mayor.

—

You were in the orchestra room, arranging a new composition in preparation for the scavenger hunt. You couldn’t sleep now that you had decided on a course of action, so you decided to make use of the extra energy swirling in your stomach and radiating out through your arms and legs. Thankfully the dormitories were on the other side of Nevermore’s campus, meaning students could not overhear or be disturbed by your work. You don’t quite remember how you got across the grounds or what time you left your room. All you knew was that this was your time, your safe space.

All of the sudden you hear heels from down the corridor and know that it must be Larissa. Who else would it be? Sure enough, Larissa comes in. No hesitation in her approach. Your stomach flips, and you’re surprised she seems so confident and determined. No silk pajamas; she’s still in a work outfit. You can’t remember if you’ve seen it before. Her sense of purpose impelled you to lean the cello in your arms to it’s stand instead.

Her lips are on yours before logic can catch up with you, her hands cradling your face as if you’re something holy and sacred. You let out a surprised “mmph” but return the kiss eagerly, wrapping your arms around Larissa and inviting her closer. When your lips part ever so slightly, she deepens the kiss without delay. Her hands drift downward from your face to your neck to your arms to your outer thighs. You feel as if your heart is going to beat so quickly and become so enlarged that it will begin to break through your ribcage. Still, you wouldn’t stop this long-awaited union for anything.

Larissa’s swift hands had begun to pull you up into her arms, urging you to wrap your legs around her torso. You couldn’t bother with whether or not the cello was okay. After feeling her warmth against you, knowing she could feel the heat radiating from you too, both of your movements turned frantic. Your breath mimicked the raggedness it had from your run the other day.

“I want you. I want you. I need you.” Breathy declarations from Larissa ring out and ring throughout the room. In response, you bring her hand from the small of your back to your front, just under the edge of your shirt. The encouragement makes the taller woman whimper in between fervent kisses.

Suddenly, a deafening, reverberating crash sounds out.

Heart racing, sweaty, you jolt awake in your office chair in the orchestra room. Looking around anxiously, you see the cello you were playing on the ground, still vibrating. You must have was accidentally kicked it over in your sleep. The reddest blush plasters itself onto your cheeks. You were no stranger to dreaming of Larissa, but this is the first suggestive dream since she left you in the Weathervane. You didn’t even know someone could feel this embarrassed with no one else present. You’re alone and unsure of what time it is or what time you fell asleep after traipsing across campus. Only the quiet singing of birds outside indicated it was early morning. You normally frowned upon clocks in the classroom, but maybe you’ll rethink that now.

You look to the sheet music stand near you and find your phone. It’s dead. With a deep sigh, you gather your items and make your way to your living quarters. You need to confirm what time it is and change your clothes. Today is the day that you’re putting your scavenger hunt into motion.

—

Outside of Larissa’s office is a corkboard for Nevermore news, flyers, events, and so on that she checks daily. You post the anonymous note that serves as your first clue and fade into the stone wall behind you just as her office doors open and she steps out.

Larissa moved towards the board, not suspecting any terribly special memos pinned on a Saturday morning. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read the pasted together instructions. Larissa knew the mismatched lettering had to belong to whoever was gifting her the elaborate playlists. It was finally time to uncover the truth that she so desperately desired. She quickly glanced around to see if anyone was watching or leaving the area. …No one.

The patchwork note from cut-out magazine letters read, “Alas, it’s time to confess who I am. Come and find me if you can. I can skip but can’t walk. I’d rather sing than talk.”

A wild goose chase? Larissa considered. Truly, what can come of this? Just another CD with no confirmation of who this is? Even with her skepticism, Larissa was intrigued. She enjoyed conquering puzzles. There was something so satisfying about hunting down information and excavating the truth. With everything going on with you, Larissa welcomed a distraction, especially from someone who she considered herself to have a certain bond or connection with.

Snatching the clue from the board, Larissa retreated back to her office, abandoning her morning plans to roam among the grounds. I can skip but can’t walk…sing rather than talk…hm… Larissa mulled over the riddle. After a few moments, she can’t believe it took her this long to realize: CDs. Of course, it’s telling her to go back to the CDs. It’s where this all started. She walked over to her media player where one was already in place and started from track 1. Larissa felt as if she had committed the sounds and occasional lyrics to memory. How is there a clue here?

Pacing in front of her lit fireplace, Larissa fumbled haphazardly with the CD case in her hands as she listened with new intent. On the third turn around, her hand accidentally brushed off a sticky note that was placed on the back cover. “Wha-” she began while bending over to pick up the small piece of paper on the floor.

“Finish” she saw written on it. Finish what? A bit frustrated that she can’t make sense of the notation, she went to her desk to examine the other gifts. Sure enough, there were post-its on the backs of them as well. When read all together, they directed her to finish the newspaper crossword. Okay, so whoever this was definitely knew her routine. That’s not exactly breaking news, though. Larissa stepped out onto her balcony where she laid the newspaper next to her finished cup of tea. Flipping through to the crossword section, she saw a custom crossword tucked into the paper. In all honesty, she admired the dedication and thought that went into these clues.

Once she completed the crossword, it very obviously did not read out her admirer’s name like she had hoped. Rather, the answers prompted her to go to Jericho. Larissa pursed her lips, attempting to win against a budding smile as she shook her head. This is ridiculous. The final part of this clue spelling out Jericho also mentioned finding an outcast and a normie laughing together. Larissa didn’t know if she hated or loved that prospect, seeing as many Nevermore students had passes to Jericho this weekend. How many will be hanging out with a local, though? she asked herself while grabbing her overcoat and heading out the door.

—

“Alright, and what’s the plan?” you quizzed Enid on the ride over to Jericho.

In the passenger seat sat a wiggly werewolf who bounced her legs with excitement. In a singsong voice, she responded,“Hey now, give me some credit. I’m the one who suggested Lucas and I could give Principal Weems the next clue!”

“What if she asks who is orchestrating the scavenger hunt? How do I know you won’t crack under her prodding?” You narrow your eyes at her briefly before returning them to the road. You try to keep the tone light while still voicing your concerns.

With a small scoff, Enid confidently replies, “Please, one time Thing accidentally spilled nail polish on Wednesday’s typewriter, and I was an iron trap. If I can handle Wednesday Addams, I think I can handle Weems.” She ends the statement with her arms crossed, seemingly very proud of herself. To be fair, that was impressive. “Besides, I’m on the side of true love. This idea is so romantic!” Oh my god was all you could think to yourself at that statement. Once parked, you and Enid walk into the center of the square to wait for the normie component of this clue.

“What are we doing here again?” Lucas, the mayor’s son, questioned once he was in front of Enid. She sheepishly glanced at you and back to Lucas and then swiftly elbowed him in the side. It was kind of cute how seriously she was taking this.

You’ve done all you can do, so all you can do now is hope for the best. You put your hand on Enid’s shoulder and reassure her, “If you need anything, just give me a signal and excuse yourself. I’ll be watching from the Weathervane.” Well, mainly you’re reassuring yourself.

—

Once in Jericho, Larissa felt it an insurmountable task to search every store and outdoor area for the right outcast and normie. It didn’t help that she automatically parked in her usual spot, which happened to be by the flower shop. Getting out of her car, Larissa saw that very florist outside, pruning and watering plants. He noticed her and waved. She could feel a scowl on her lips, so she looked away, pretending to not have seen his friendly gesture. At least that’s one person that the admirer couldn’t be…

Having walked past the flower shop, Larissa cups her hands over her eyes to look inside Uriah’s Heap. She can’t imagine a normie having fun in the morbid antique shop, but she’s nothing if not thorough. After being satisfied that Uriah’s Heap did not contain her next clue, Larissa turned around to consider where to search next.

Before she can decide to go into another store, she sees Enid. Actually, she sees multiple Nevermore students. It’s a beautiful day, and many students want to make the most of their time before classes officially begin. Curiously, though, all of the other students are with Nevermore peers, and here is Enid with the mayor’s son. Larissa wouldn’t have pegged them to be friends.

Attempting to take control of the situation, Larissa came straight up to them. “Enid? Young Mr. Walker?”

“Principal Weems! Wow. Hi!”

For a brief moment, Larissa considered if running into them was a red herring. There was always a possibility that at a boarding school, the person sending her gifts and love notes could be a student with a harmless crush. Could Enid be the admirer? Larissa had always considered Enid to be like a daughter or menteé. She had felt protective of her, especially when Enid’s own mother made some questionable choices at the last parents’ weekend. Larissa pushed the thought to the furthest recesses of her mind; the person from those letters had a connection with her that no one else compared to. Well, almost no one else.

“What are you-” Larissa began but was cut off by Enid’s excited voice. “You should try to find the building with the most stories!”

“I assume this is the next clue?” Larissa stood in the familiar pose she often used to command attention. Combined with her height and immaculate dress, it simply wasn’t hard. “Enid, I’m terribly busy with finalizing spring semester contracts, schedules, and arrangements. I need to know who has enlisted your help. I know you know more than you are letting on.”

In an effort to be defiant, Enid asked, “What do you mean, Principal Weems? What help?” Her face gave her away, though. Her lips were pressed together firmly, as if she was attempting to hold back a grin.

Larissa considered escalating, but before she could, the young girl interrupted again with a determined look, “Remember, find the building with the most stories.” With that, she grabbed Lucas’s wrist and skipped off, pulling him behind her. All Larissa heard was next was a distant, “Byeeeeee, Principal Weems!”

Larissa is a bit surprised Enid could hold out, but the young werewolf’s evasiveness helped in that regard. Sitting underneath her gaze made Enid uncomfortable. Larissa remembers a time when she pressed the girl on Wednesday’s whereabouts the night Crackstone’s crypt flooded and the water was dyed red. Enid promptly confessed after Larissa put on a semi-firm voice and a stern look of disappointment.

Back to this never ending task of uncovering the identity of her secret admirer, Larissa thought. Bars have quite a lot of stories… The only bar in Jericho is the Rabbit’s Foot Tavern, and the only tales it holds are repetitive small town musings and desires to leave the town behind.

Though it seems like a long shot, it’s her only lead. As Larissa headed in the direction of the bar, she began to pass the bookstore. She only made it two more feet before she stopped in her tracks. There are thousands of stories there!

Feeling pleased with herself, she steps inside only to be met with a tired clerk that is paid too little to care about town shenanigans. The worker behind the counter gives Larissa a sticky note with specific numbers from the Dewey Decimal System. He doesn’t even look up from his phone. Larissa blinks slowly and gestures appreciatively before she heads to the 700s, somewhere in Arts & Recreation.

The “book” that she finds at the detailed location is actually a mix CD on the shelf disguised as a musicology textbook. Torn between feeling excited to have a new playlist and determined the find the next clue, Larissa pushes herself to continue and try to examine the cover, rather than only appreciating it. The track listing is unlike the previous CDs, so she begins to break down what she assumes is a code. Finally, Larissa cracks it: “Make a wish, but don’t take a drink.”

—

Once you watch Larissa disappear inside the bookstore, you leap into action. Hopefully you’ll have enough time to sit out all the lilies before she figures out the next clue. Thankfully, Enid offers to help (and makes Lucas assist). Even James briskly walks over with an armful of lilies. You appreciate the kind gestures and make a mental note to send everyone thank you after this is all over. You’re not sure how long it takes, but your calves and lower back ache from the manual labor. You all successfully sit out hundreds of lilies planted in recycled Weathervane cups. Thank goodness the new barista, Emily, was on board to save as many used paper cups as she could throughout her shifts over the week.

When Larissa makes her way to the town square fountain from the bookstore, you are safely back inside the Weathervane, becoming more and more anxious as you realize she is so close to finding out you’re completely smitten with her and have been keeping it from her. However, she stands at the fountain, unmoving, for much longer than anticipated.

Larissa did not expect this—the humble lily of the valley, her favorite flower. She had never been gifted them. When she was younger and pining after Morticia, Larissa remembered getting the other woman an entire slew of flowers. Dark, moody flowers. Orchids. Carnivorous plants. Anything she thought Morticia would like. In return, when Morticia asked about Larissa’s favorite flower, she ended up giving her lilies. Larissa thought lilies were beautiful, but she had always adored lily of the valley. It hurt that Morticia did not care enough to get her the correct flowers, because it symbolized so much more when it came to their relationship.

The lily of the valley is always overlooked, considered modest and unimposing. Of all people Larissa thought Morticia would appreciate that every single aspect of the flower is poisonous. Now Larissa is at a loss for who arranged this scavenger hunt, because she hasn’t told a soul about what this flower means to her in years. Before she can intervene, tears begin to fall from Larissa’s eyes, staining her face. Sitting on the edge of the fountain, surrounded by hundreds of lily of the valley, Larissa takes a few minutes to appreciate the flowers, almost as if she is mending her relationship to them.

After awhile, Larissa stands, smooths out the creases in the front of her clothes and takes a deep, filling breath in. As she can infer from the cups, the next stop is the Weathervane.

At the Weathervane, Larissa takes notice that it is unusually empty for a Saturday. She strolls around the counter and then the seating areas, examining the area for any clues. Her eyes glance quite a bit to the booth she normally shares with you. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary except for the much smaller amount of people she would expect.

When Larissa internally questions if this is the wrong destination, the barista calls out “Larissa” and sits a mug in the “pick-up” area before going back to make the rest of the drinks in the queue. Scrawled on the cup are the words “sit where you are most comfortable.” That doesn’t seem like much of a clue, she surmises incredulously.

The task at hand proves to be more difficult than expected. Larissa looks to her regular booth, the one you two often shared. Is that where I am most comfortable? She wants to face the door, to surveil the inside of the café for any changes. However, she normally lets you sit in that direction; Larissa liked to have her focus on you instead of the bustling environment. Longing for that familiarity wins out, and Larissa takes a seat facing the back of the Weathervane.

No more clues. You knew that was the last one. Once Larissa sits in her usual spot, you phase through the back wall near the bulletin board. Astonished, the taller woman steps up and out of the seat with a slight gasp.

Before preparing to explain the past several months and your previously concealed ability, you proclaim, in what you hope is the most impressive way possible, “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, but you owe me a hot chocolate date.”

You slide into the booth opposite to Larissa, waiting for her to sit back down.

—

Tagging: @lilsmeaux, @suckerforcate, @rickistheman, @tundra1029, @aster-loves-gwen, @justcallmelittleone, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @lvinhs, @one-pining-queer, @kimiinou, @bobia13, @gwendolinechristieiscute, @kay-liah-scope, @readingtheentrails, @a-queen-and-her-throne, @weemssapphic, @ctrlamira, @im-a-carnivorous-plant, @winterfireblond, @gwendolinechristiesnumberonegirl. Let me know if you'd like to be tagged or have your tag taken off future posts. :)

[genericpuff]

https://www.instagram.com/p/CvO2Fo1vbJU/?igshid=NjZiM2M3MzIxNA==

I don't know if you have seen the last thing RS posted on instagram, and I don't wanna sound mean or like I'm criticizing every single thing she does, but, why does this feels a bit off? Like, I know every author needs money, and that's why they sell books, special editions and merch from those books. But seeing how some people who went to that last "book signing" now want to order or buy ANOTHER lo book just to get an autograph or that "exclusive doodle" feels a bit... Idk, bad? Like, the fans have to spend more money than other fans just to get this stuff? It feels a bit like what happened with that Persephone + Ares book that had a special edition that was all black, but costed more than the regular edition so the fans had to spend more money if they wanted their lo novels to look good together. Idk, maybe i'm just seeing too much into it, but I still wanted to ask your opinion on the matter.

Love your work, btw. Lo rekindled is so good, and your art is beautiful!

OKAY SO

I DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT THIS INSTAGRAM POST LOL

so I looked into it and yeah! it's off! it's super off!

story time, but there's this band I'm really into where, 1-2 years ago, they had released two new separate EP's, and they were selling them individually as special editions, only for them to then SELL THEM ALL OVER AGAIN AS BUNDLED VERSIONS AND THIS JUST LIKE

IT FEELS VERY SIMILAR LOL

there was also a time where this Youtuber musician my husband was really into was selling vinyls, and we managed to snag a copy in the hour that they were available, only for them to start selling SIGNED copies the week after they had sold out of the original prints

it's just an overall "ech" move because it really screws over your audience for paying attention/getting in first, y'know? That's what's such a big deal about being in a fandom, a lot of people like being "first" so to sell something under the precedent that it's "limited edition" just to print more with an even COOLER thing attached feels like such a fuck you. They're literally just trying to gouge more money out of people who have already bought the thing and "need" the exclusive copy.

This just goes to show btw there was nothing stopping her from signing books personally at SDCC. That feels like such a middle finger to the people who paid money to go to and be at SDCC (travel costs AND attendance costs) esp the people who cosplayed as LO characters and were clearly specifically there for Rachel just to be given a stamp and shooed away with zero conversation (as I talked about in a previous post) and then find out later after you've already gone home days later that you can get a PERSONALLY SIGNED AND DOODLED COPY if you go and buy a brand new book in one specific bookstore. That's so lame man, I can't even.

Just to add btw, not related to your ask really, but it really goes in conjunction with it, there was a tweet recently from Rachel advertising some new t-shirts.

But people who bought the shirts reported that they're INCREDIBLY cheaply made and don't look anything like the products listed. You can even see the low ratings on them but when you actually view them-

I do not feel the need to say it any louder for the people in the back, it's being spoken clearly at this point - WT and Rachel are cashing out on what little merit they have left, they do not care.

AND Y'KNOW WHAT I FOUND OUT WHILE WRITING THIS POST ????

THEY CHANGED THE FUCKING THUMBNAIL!!!

THAT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE 2 DAYS AGO, I CHECKED IT MYSELF BACK WHEN IT WAS FIRST POSTED TO REDDIT AND IT WAS THE GREEN VERSION.

THEY'RE LITERALLY CHANGING THE THUMBNAILS AND ADS TO DISCREDIT THE REVIEWS BEING LEFT.

DO NOT FALL FOR IT. BUYER BEWARE.

[narwhalhavingsomuchfun]

ineffable story prompt: boyfriend day

Here’s a fun story prompt for Aziracrow that I thought of and i wanted to share: Modern day, Human AU, Az and Crowley have been dating for almost a year now, it’s national boyfriend day and Crowley has been panicking about the day for a while because he can’t come up with any ideas for what to post for boyfriend day. He arranged for a nice dinner with the two of them and ordered Aziraphale’s favorite chocolates and bought him a new book, but Crowley is so hung up on the social media boyfriend day post. Everything seems so insufficient and Crowley drives himself into a nervous frenzy because he can’t come up with something meaningful enough to post for boyfriend day.

When the day finally arrives (October 3rd btw), Crowley has about 10 different posts drafted but he can’t pick one. While the pair of them are at breakfast together, he basically decides not to post anything. His love for Aziraphale is greater than just one instagram post. Besides, Aziraphale is barely on social media anyway; he’s got one post from 4 years ago about one of his favorite books and is never active. It’s a sharp contrast to Crowley who got a certifiable instagram addiction. Anyway, Aziraphale and Crowley are both aware it’s boyfriend day. They exchange their gifts at breakfast (Az got Crowley a new pair of sunglasses and a signed vintage queen vinyl) and they discuss their dinner plans together for tonight.

And then they go about their day, Crowley finally relaxing minutely about the boyfriend posts, but then he starts seeing everybody else's posts and freaks out. As he’s walking to Aziraphale’s flat after work, he gets a notification that he was tagged in a post and he opens instagram confused. It was Aziraphale posting. For national boyfriend day. He made a post with the full carousel of pictures of the two of them. Some of them are really sweet photos, like one time when they had a picnic at st james or when they made cookies at Crowley’s flat and made a mess in the kitchen. There’s also some photos that Crowley didn’t even know about Aziraphale taking, like a photo of him half asleep while they were watching the princess bride or a photo of his arse in his favorite skin tight jeans. Az tagged Crowley in the description section which reads something along the lines of:

‘I love you. You mean the world to me. I hope I get the chance to love you for the next 6000 years.’

By the time Crowley swipes through all of the pictures, he’s definitely not crying. And then he gets another alert that he’s been tagged in someones story and swipes to find that Azi has spammed his story with dozens of photos of Crowley, some of them pictures of the pair of them, but many of them are candid shots of Crowley in the moment, laughing or smiling earnestly at the camera. Crowley had no idea that Aziraphale took so many pictures of him.

By the time he arrives at Azi’s flat, he’s ugly crying and Aziraphale’s confused and worried and then they’re hugging and kissing and they go out to dinner and its lovely and romantic. And later that night Crowley does end up posting for national boyfriend day. He posts a photo of Aziraphale that he took one day when they took a trip to the beach with a long heartfelt caption that goes something like this:

‘angel, i love u. u make me the happiest person in the world. ur literally an angel and deserve so much better than me, so thanks for putting up with me. i love u so much. i love how fussy u r about ur books. i love how u light up when u smile. i love how passionate u r about ur favorite things. i would love to spend the next 6000 years with u, but its funny that u think 6000 years is enough. i love u to alpha centauri and back, angel.’

[sweetmariihs2]

Today I found and bought two new Sofia The First magazines in a magazine stand, in a town next to mine. (That's what the post is about) 🪻✨️💗

I live in a small town, I came to the neighboring city (a slightly bigger one; where there is a cinema, adequate medical care and clinics, things that are scarce in my town and everyone comes here when they need one of these things) to do an eyesight exam, because recebtly I've been feeling my vision getting worse. Going to the clinic, I found a magazine stand on the other street, and I asked my family (who were with me) if they could accompany me there later. I did the exam, and I'm still under the influence of the eye drops, so it's been torture to write this text, but I need to tell you what I found. You won't believe it: TWO DIFFERENT EDITIONS OF SOFIA THE FIRST MAGAZINES! THOSE THAT ARE NO LONGER PRODUCED! IN FACT, SEVERAL COPIES OF THEM! There were like, 7 magazines from the same edition, perfectly new, never touched, ON THE FLOOR. (And no, I'm not from Rio De Janeiro, there are a lot of sidewalks with this pattern here in Brazil)

A while ago, I think it was in January, I was wondering if I should also go to this city and look for Sofia The First merch, because in my small town I've already looked at all the stores and there's nothing left to see here (how many, about 4 ? 5? Yes, it really is a small city, I know all these places and you can visit them all in 1 or 2 hours at most, walking down the street, without a car). I found some stickers and birthday invitations, I posted them a while ago, I used them for journaling in my sketchbook.

(@shychick-52 do you see the Donald Duck magazines there?? When I saw them I immediately thought about you, they're on the bottom left of the pic and there's more in the top right. Pato Donald is Donald Duck, Tio Patinhas is Scrooge McDuck's name in Brazil. I don't know a thing about Ducktales, I'm sorry!)

I literally gasped. I was just going there for fun, as I like books, magazines and vintage products like records and CDs, so I really like physical media. Those places full of trinkets are extremely fun for me, and whenever I have the opportunity I like to look at everything, down to the smallest details. I love music and vinyl stores, stationery stores, party stores, haberdashery, so a magazine stand sounds amazing to me too! I hadn't been to one in years! (I never went thrifting in my life. It would be an amazing day to spend an evening)

There weren't only Sofia The First ones, you see, these kinds of magazines aren't produced anymore since kids don't have any interest in them. So most of the children's magazines there were dated around 2012-2016! You don't even have to look for the dates to know that, the Strawberry Shortcake ones, Frozen (FROZEN, DUDE! FROZEN!!!) (In one of my STF magazines there's even an ad of these Frozen magazines, they were produced during the same time), there were Disney Junior ones (If you look closely you can see the Lion Guard cover on that pic where I show you the pile of STF magazines, it's on top of them), Disney Princess, EVEN MONSTER HIGH. I didn't took a pic of this one, but as far as I know, you don't find these anywhere anymore. I felt like going back to 2015, when I was a kid those activity magazines and visiting the magazine stands were extremely fun, the themes on the children's magazines were exactly these, I remember the sticker albums, so many good memories. It makes sense, since they're the same ones, but they were never sold.

Besides the children magazines, they sell mangas, magazines, books, word search and activity books, cooking books, comic books/magazines (superhero themed or not- DC comics, Marvel, but also Disney and national works, for example our beloved Turma Da Mônica), and even toys and stuff.

So I figured maybe I'd find silly things here too, it's a bigger town but after all it's still small, it's just 40 mins away from mine, maybe I could find little birthday hats that I can cut out? Gift bags? Maybe stickers and coloring kits, silly things. Of course, knowing about the magazine stands there, something that my hometown NO LONGER has, inside of me had a small amount of hope that I could find something, but not much, as I live in the rural/interior part of Brazil and many products are bootleg, you know those princess books with wonky faces written "princess coloring book"? Stuff like that. But there was still a shred of hope, despite knowing that there probably wouldn't be anything interesting. I just went there because I have fun searching for little things.

AND WHEN I GOT THERE.... THE MAGAZINES WERE JUST THERE. AT THE ENTRANCE. ON THE ?!?!?!?!? FLOOR?!??!??! (You can see the pic up there) ON THE DIRTY SIDEWALK FULL OF DIRT AND DUST AND ALL KINDS OF NASTY THINGS?!??! HELL NAH

It was like they were just waiting for me to get them, they were the first things that I saw. I KNEW THAT I WOULD FIND SOMETHING. In fact, as I always hope to find cool things in these stores I frequent, I always expect something. I'm usually disappointed, but I always try to find it. AND THIS TIME I FOUND IT. NOT ONE, NOT TWO, BUT LIKE A DOZEN of STF magazines from the same edition, still packaged AND WITH THE GIFT. ALL OF THEM.

As my parents had work to do in our town and needed to return, I had to look at everything quickly. Luckily the magazine stand was small, so I was able to look at a few things, and while the attendant (who seemed bored (thankfully, the fact that she was very slow gave me time to look a little more)) served other customers (she was slow with them too, which gave me more time thank god), I continued looking at all sides of the stand, observing every small detail to look for treasures. If there were several copies of an issue of Sofia The First magazine still packed there, then there must have been more, hidden behind that enormous amount of information. I didn't had enough time because my parents needed to go back home, but I wish I could have saw the content from the Disney Junior magazines. I opened it and looked through the pages, only the last two pages were about Sofia The First, but I still had a lot to look so I put it back and went to search for more.

That's the one I got, the edition I mentioned

12 brazillian reais are worth around 2,50 dollars. For us, in talks about value, it would be like- 5 dollars? Not too cheap like literal 2 dollars, it's like, a cheap price, but not that much. For us, I mean. I don't know if you get what I mean, my explanation was terrible

Before, as we were late for the exam and the whole family was going (we all went to take the exam) I only took with me my cellphone and headphones, I didn't bring my money or even a purse or a backpack. My father bought me the magazine, I got so happy. Actually, he just let me have it and gave me the money, so I went to the attendant. The magazines had an elastic band around to secure them, as you can see in the pic, and I took them to the girl and asked for her help to get one out. As I'm used to being very friendly, and I was very happy, I approached the girl, asked for her help, and as she got them out of the elastic band, I kept talking "I can't believe I found this!! They are no longer produced, they are rare items, and I'm collecting them! I didn't think I would find anything like this here, it definitely made my day." I noticed that the attendant wasn't very friendly back, in fact she was very quiet and seemed a little bored, but I didn't care, I was too happy to worry about judgement looks from people I don't know, at least I was friendly and I did my part. My young brother later told me that when I turned my back she looked confused and shrugged, perhaps thinking "to each their own, right?". She went to serve the other customers and in the meantime I continued to look through the magazines, hoping to find more.

Important detail: I still had eye drops, my pupils were extremely dilated and I could see nearby objects blurred, so searching thoroughly was very difficult. Imagine looking at all that information without being able to see things closer than 1m from you. I'm still convinced I didn't manage to look at everything. I found more Disney Princess magazines (dated in 2014? 2015? somewhere around that) and that's when I saw it. I literally had to crouch down to look at the magazines in the lower sections of the shelf, they were stacked and they covered each other, and when I saw the Sofia The First logo I quickly grabbed it. IT WAS ANOTHER EDITION - A FLOATING PALACE THEMED ONE. Unfortunately this time it was out of the packaging, and I have no idea if someday there was even a gift with it, but I don't care, it was amazing to find this.

That's the Disney Princess magazines I was talking about! In that first pic I took, at the start of the post, you can see a Belle themed one. The Ariel themed magazine looks so old that the paint is stained and started to fade (it was in the front showcase while the other ones were carefully placed inside the stand), thankfully the STF ones were brand new. Well, almost.

Now that I'm home and I'm already seeing a little better, I'm gonna show you the magazines. Not all of them unfortunately, because a post only supports 10 pics and each magazine has 15/20+ pages so like... yeah. I wanna scan them and put them in a Google drive folder, or at least post a video about them in my YouTube channel, but that's more unlikely. If I had all of them, definitely, but I don't think it's worth recording a video if it's not with all the issues, don't you think? Anyway.

What's written in the first one: The Queen's Birthday Party! (This one came with the necklace)

In the second one: Sofia's vacation!

Let's take a closer look at the necklace

I'm fighting the urge to use it. I really want to use that tag in my sketchbook and the charm of the necklace in something like a keychain, but I cann'ttt bring myself to destroy something that is not produced anymoreeee😭😭😭

In the Floating Palace magazine, there is not even a single page where the sea monster is in. Not even a single one.

But in the "Queen's Birthday Party" one, there are three pages where Cedric is in! Yayy!!! They did him justice!!!

If anyone's curious about Miranda's birthday party, it's a comic and someone already posted it on Tumblr. Here is the link.

You know, that "Queen's Birthday Party" it's very exclusive, I don't remember the show having any episode like this, and the next activities in the magazine talk about the vacation they did in the comic and also the birthday party. Besides that, we have a lot of activities related to Tilly and family, and the main arts and crafts activity from this magazine is making a family tree. I believe that this magazine's topic is family.

I can't show you all the pages, but at least I can publish the pages Cedric is in and add more stuff to my Cedric merch masterlist (and personal research)

Well at least he's there. I have seen this art around like 20 times but they remembered that Cedric is a Sofia The First character so that's good I guess

They did him dirty here

AND THIS!!!! THIS ABSOLUTELY THIS!!! MY FAVORITE ONE!!!1!1!!!1!1!!1

YOU GUYS DON'T KNOW HOW LOUD I GASPED, WHEN I TELL YOU THAT I ALMOST STARTED JUMPING AND SCREAMING "YIPEE YIPEEE"

I'll translate it to you this time, so you can understand how I'm feeling right now

✨️Translation:✨️

Enchancia Castle

Title: Fraternal Bonds

Before leaving, Aunt Tilly gives her brother a big hug. Which pairs of siblings do you know from Sofia's world? Mark the correct pairs below.

THAT IS SO AAARRRGGGAGGAGAVVSGGSBBAVSGJ💖💖😭💗💞💗💞😭💞😭💗😭💞😭💖💗💖

I KNOW THAT CEDRIC AND SOFIA ARE THE WRONG OPTION, BUT I CAN'T. THAT IS SO CUTE I MIGHT EXPLODE I DON'T KNOW

that's what we had for today, I reached the 10 image per blog limit as always, no one's surprised

[fumifooms]

Do you know about the Marchil h-doujin, just called "Marchil Meshi"? (Dunno wether you're comfortable about adult content regarding the ship. If not, sorry and feel free to ignore).

Imagine my surprise… When a few months ago, I was looking up places to buy doujins for dunmeshi online bc of that new-ish laimar (sfw) doujin and I find, many many nsfw ones bUT AMONGST THE HORDE… MARCHIL MESHI. I ate it up. It’s a lil iconic to me ngl, I quote it in my head sometimes. Marcille angrily gesturing always gets me cackling. It honestly has no business being this good, it was made pretty early on in the story so many years ago, and STILL! So in character, and honestly so funny, AND no weird business either. Like listen, I scour the internet, looking for any marchil content, any marchil content at all… And find a dry af desert, no life here, literally jackshit nothing. Only Pixiv has some afaik but the nsfw is def… Hm. 😔 (2 fics tagged chirumaru on there btw!! That aren’t mine lol) Thank you marchil meshi author if I had to pick 1 piece of marchil nsfw to exist I’d choose this one (honestly that’s already so close to reality lol) Thank u Asaki Takayuki I owe u my life. I like zines but I’ve never bought doujins before so it didn’t cross my mind, but dunmeshi is taking a lot of my first times in fandom engagement and I bought said laimar doujin just the other day hehe 

I do want to keep my blog generally sfw but yes I’m 100% cheering on nsfw marchil content from the shadows, glad that ao3’s finally getting some too. I hope that fic writer makes more… Tallman Chil is so so good but I hope they also do some more general premises, which the end notes on that one do make me hopeful 👀 I want more marchil writers in general. More marchil fanartists. Sfw nsfw idk I need to be fed 😭 (<- This post was drafted before that new marchil smut fic WOOHOO. So much new marchil content this week!!)

Oh while I’m here, I find this so funny/odd, but in japanese fandom ship names are simply the beginning of each name smushed together, like marchil or chilmar. The order of the names is that the first one is the "top"… Idk how jp fandoms live without switches but aight, but in m/f ships this means that typically the man is the first half of the ship name right. WELL WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT marchil is so much more used than chilmar lmaoo. Even more stats: On Pixiv, the tag marchil had all the artworks, but the chilmar tag had all the fics. Ain’t that wack to think about. Anyways marchil or chilmar idc you go guys

Sighh thinking about them. They are so "I beg your pardon??!" "Then beg", "Fuck you!" "Fuck me yourself you coward"… Forget stamens and pistils, Chil is the cursed "You see, there are keys and there are locks…"

More under cut since I don’t get to talk about this often, screenshots and hcs for horny time

^ said panel that lives rent free in my head and makes me giggle. I wish I’d just put the whole page here it’s my fave but nahh go find it yourself

Why are they like this. Like what is thatttt

I need to stop collecting these I’m making myself feel insane (thank you fic writer for that last one I’d never noticed but omg)

Alright hc time what was I gonna talk about… Ah yes ah yes. I def think Chil is a pest, he’s horny and he wants sex and is flagrant about it, but also we know that he stayed faithful for 4 years without getting any, I feel like realistically the relationship sex wise would 100% be on Marcille’s pace. And this is the fun part, bc would Marcille be very eager? Would she want to do the romance book correct™️ route and that means no tapping until marriage, or he needs to court her all princely first? I hc that elves have a much lower libido than humans because of the whole long af lifespan thing, it’d be kinda funny if Marcille was like "Let’s take things slow… 🥺" aka first base achieved after two years of being together lol

But seee that’s the thing too bc Marcille is so afraid of loss she might rush through things as well, she very well could like, jump on him right after confessing. Is Chilchuck kind of a shithead or is he very gentlemanly and romantic, wanting to do it right and treat her well? They are such a blank canvas of sexual chemistry listen LISTENNN there are just so so many ways you can go with them they are so special. God the banter… They cannot stop bantering for a second I swear So many kinks they could fit… I like uhh praise kink for him and for her… Idk she just really loves him and the emotional adoration is what’s at the core of her enjoying it all so like, loving Chilchuck kink, which turns out those two really match together 🫶 He makes her sing and ummm um you see where this goes. They are so grossly in love and into each other

They are so domestic. I hate them

[imperfect777]

The “ Dear Diary Method “.

* What is the “ Dear Diary Method “, And How do you do it ?

It’s really simple. So what you do is for your desire(s) you write a diary entry acting as if you already have you desire ( which you do of course). You describe how it made you feel, what you did once you got your desire, how life felt or changed after you got your desire etc etc. You basically would describe how everything would be if you already had your desires. This is a good way to live in the end, You can script/Journal it Or type it in your notes or on a doc whatever works for you! I recommend doing this In the morning before you start your day or at night as revision, but there is no certain time to do it. You can do it whenever you want to, However you want to. You can add your own twist to it, Just have fun with it and live in the end!

Just in case there’s any confusion here’s two examples.

Example 1:

Dear Diary, Today my sp texted me begging for me back. I didn’t respond because I was so busy with chores so he started blowing up my phones texting and calling me and once I finally answered back she/he begged for me back and told me how much she/he loved me and missed me and how there’s no one like me because i’m one of a kind. Of course I already knew that. But then she/he asked me on a date. This weekend she/he will be taking me out to (desired location) … and so on. You would continue to describe how you want your date with your sp to go.

Example 2:

Dear Diary, Today I got my dream car. It had all my desired features. The first thing I did when I got my car was go to …. Then I went to … And then I did … Then I went and got my car washed and detailed. And then I went and bought decor for my new car.

Example 3:

Dear Diary, Today I manifested $1,000,000. I am so excited to have this much money, The first thing I did was go buy a house. And then I went to buy a G wagon and Lambo Truck. Tomorrow I will be buying a Boat and another house because i’m literally rich. Every time I spend money I get the money I spent back. I’m so happy to be rich. I’ve always booked a trip to italy since I have so much money.

Hoped the examples helped. If you give this method a try share your results, we wanna see you living your dream life hun. 🥰

*Another disclaimer*

If someone has already done this method then creds to them but I randomly thought of this a few months ago, i’m not stealing content just wanted to clarify that!

[sailxrmxrs]

so. it's been a few months. OOPS. the creative juices have not been flowing lately BUT WE ARE SO BACK. and getting festive!! today we're decorating for christmas with our beloved infinite blue boys. this one won't be full fics but more so thoughts strung together. throwing my brain at my computer screen and seeing what sticks type beat. shoutout to itsu for the art that made me go insane abt the boys and desperate to write smth again. also shoutout to ito for listening to me ramble my thoughts aloud. always a pleasure to brainrot with u. determined to try and get back to regular writing but we shall see how that goes LMAO. for now enjoy christmas decorating gamers WOOOO.

♡ leo ♡

Leo gets SO excited for Christmas time. He loves seeing the neighbourhood lit up with strings of lights and bright displays of festivity. He's not one to hold back either with his own decorations. Leo has built up a rather eclectic collection of decorations and baubles for his Christmas tree, most of them being movie references or themed. Stormtrooper wearing a Santa hat, a resin hanging decoration made to look like a stack of Lord of the Rings books, that sort of thing. He excitedly asks what sort of fun decorations you own or want to get because he wants the tree to match both of your interests. Definitely surprises you with a few that he thinks you'll like, barely able to contain himself. Leo is bad at keeping presents a surprise. He just loves seeing how excited you get!! Very much the embodiment of golden retriever boyfriend. Always. I can see Leo also having some decorations with sentimental value too. Like this one bauble he painted as a kid that's definitely not the prettiest mix of colours, but it brings back memories of childhood and excitedly trying to stay up late to see Santa leaving presents behind. He LOVES good christmas tradition too. Every Christmas Eve he's watching the same movie (probably Home Alone) with an array of snacks laid out to enjoy. He loves getting to share it all with you too as well as starting new traditions for future Christmases together. For example, this year he dumped strips of coloured paper on the floor, put his Christmas playlist on, and declared you were both making paper chains and paper snowflakes to hang around the house with the tinsel already on display. There's no such thing as too many decorations in Leo's world so I hope you're prepared for your home to look like a festive spirit exploded in every room. Bonus note he also owns sets of festive pyjamas specifically for December and will only wear these. If it's not Christmas related he isn't touching it. Also owns slippers made to look like reindeer.

♡ milo ♡

Milo might just be the worst one to decorate for Christmas with. He's never really been overly fussed about buying decorations or a tree and has literally nothing of the sort at home. He hadn't even considered the thought that you might want to indulge a little and spend a day or two putting up lights or finding a tree for your shared living room. When you do mention the idea to him, Milo is somewhat surprised, but will nod along that sure you can get a tree. Will suggest you buy one of those pop-up trees that comes with the ornaments already attached because it's easier and will only take a couple minutes to set up and put into place. It takes a lot of convincing to sway him away from that idea. He doesn't seem to realise that half the fun is spending hours fighting the tangled mess of lights, or finding that one specific ornament you bought a few years ago just to hang front and centre on the tree. Will only agree to it if you promise to buy him an early Christmas present too. Bribery is a wonderful tool for convincing Milo to join in all the traditional couple behaviours and outings. He'll enjoy it once he's there and sees how much you're enjoying yourself, but will make a point to complain about the weather, or that he's getting bored looking at different variations of the same lights. His boredom is easily cured by a request to get food before heading home. Once you're home, he offers to reach all the tallest parts you can't reach, but not before making a smug joke about how you only asked him to help because you wanted the extra pair of hands. At the end of it all, he'll be stood behind you, arms enclosed around you and pulling your back against his chest. Will rest his chin atop your head and admit that yes, he had a lot of fun today and yes he will do it again next year. Offers to take you out again next weekend to go ice skating or put together gingerbread houses. Just as long as you don't make him wear one of those awful Christmas jumpers Leo sent a picture of himself wearing the other day. You don't make any promises.

♡ rory ♡

Ever the hopeless romantic, Rory equally adores and despises this time of year. He loves the romanticism of the festive atmosphere, the twinkling fairy lights, the decadence of the food. He's secretly been craving the chance to share it all with someone else. But he would never admit to it. Which is also the cause for his self-proclaimed hatred of the holiday season. He likes to lament about how so much of it is commercialised and specifically catered to couples wanting an excuse to show off how cute they are. He'll acutely ignore the fact that you came home to him watching one of those cheesy Netflix Christmas rom-coms. The type where a prince gets isekaied into the suburbs of New York and falls in love with generic city woman. Will try to hide his face in the neckline of his sweater while you set down boxes of decorations to dress up the room. Claims he wants no part of it and acts all indifferent to your enthusiasm, though it is blatantly evident on his face that he actually means the exact opposite. So you get to hanging baubles from the tree, singing along to Christmas songs as they chime from the speakers. It's when you notice Rory stand up, eyes flickering from you, to the tree, to the floor, that you ask if he would like to give you a hand. Will say no, but you should move that one ornament a bit higher up. It will look better there. Or maybe add a different coloured one there to brighten up that section. Pass a box of ornaments to him and tell him that if he's going to comment on your decorating then he better just do it himself. Rory acts as though this is some large inconvenience but within minutes he's quietly singing along under his breath, a rosy colour staining his cheeks. Pull out some mistletoe and watch him turn an even brighter red. Do it I dare u. And once the room is sufficiently dressed up for Christmas, Rory will collapse back on the sofa, shyly admitting how much he loved spending the time with you as you burrow into the warmth of his side. Will get a little flustered but tries to play it cool until you tease him about finishing the rom-com you caught him watching earlier. Goes to push you away but immediately pulls you back in. Maybe he can be a little more affectionate than usual today. Maybe.

♡ alexei ♡

Alexei doesn't usually decorate a whole lot around the festive season. It's not for a lack of wanting to, nor does he dislike it at all, but rather he just never felt like he had a reason to before. For him, Christmas always felt like a very family-oriented time of year so after he moved out, the thought simply never occurred to him that he could go out and buy a tree and ornaments, even just for his desk at work. When you pose the idea to him to get your home all decorated up for the season, Alexei's interest is piqued. He will scroll for ideas on how to pick a colour theme and will get really into the colour ratio of the baubles too. He lines the tree with golden fairy lights and makes sure the balance of red and green baubles is even. Makes sure to find tinsel that matches the exact shades as well so it doesn't look mismatched at all. It's really rather cute how focused he'll get over it, eyebrows furrowed and this tiny little crease in his forehead. Stands with a look a pure concentration in the way his eyes are surveying the tree from top to bottom, his finger tapping against his lip while you watch from your spot on the sofa sipping a hot chocolate Alexei made for you. You tried to tell him he doesn't need to take it so seriously with the way he's alternating between different coloured baubles but your voice falls on deaf ears. He'll stand back to admire his handiwork, looking to you for excitable approval. Once he deems it good enough, Alexei will lay down, his head just beneath the tree, and he'll gesture for you to join him. He feels all tired out after a day of decorating and has a distinct urge to nap under the tree like a cat. Will sleepily ramble about how he's been looking forward to spending the holiday with you, how he's excited to try all these new things and start ned traditions with you until eventually his eyes betray him and they blink slower and slower and he's falling asleep in your arms.

♡ brooklyn ♡

Brooklyn's home on Christmas is a sight to behold. The man knows how to decorate no matter what the occasion may be. He always loves to make a day of it too. Expect him to wake you up with a cup of tea, already dressed in a cosy Christmas sweater with his hair unstyled and a little messy. Winter Brooklyn is a delight for the eyes. Especially when he's got a hand-knitted scarf bundled around his neck and matching gloves warming his hands. Drives you to a local Christmas tree farm he always visits on the first weekend of December every year without fail. The owners know him by name at this point and are particularly excited to see he has company this year. His hand is entwined in yours as you wander around, talking and musing together over which tree would fit best. If it's snowing, expect Brooklyn to flick a snow-covered branch at you, a dusting of cold powder freckling your cheeks. Will laugh but lets you throw a snowball at him as payment for the attack. Once you pick out the perfect tree, Brooklyn takes you to a local Christmas market to pick out some new decorations. He has a rather rigorous theme he likes to stick to but wants to add something meaningful to signify the two of you—especially with this being your first Christmas together. He tries not to go too overboard and is only stopped by the sight of a stall offering decadent mugs of hot chocolate. Once you're back home and in the warm, Brooklyn is lighting the fireplace, along with a few festive themed candles, and rolling up his sleeves. It's at this point you see just how serious he is about Christmas decorating. And it certainly pays off because once you're both done, the tree looks like someone opened pinterest, found the most visually pleasing tree and managed to extract it and place it directly in your living room. Brooklyn looks very pleased with himself as you praise his well thought out planning. Ends the day with a surprise gift for you because his family always had a tradition of giving a gift on Christmas tree day and he wants to keep that going with you. Is generally just the embodiment of Christmas rom-com love interest with how perfect he makes the day turn out to be.

♡ tobias ♡

Decorating with Tobias is so unbelievably chaotic. There is no rhyme or reason to the scattering of ornaments all over the floor. Decorations are everywhere except where they are supposed to be. He claims he's got a strategy but you're not so certain. He also doesn't really bother with any particular colour theming and just picks out what he thinks looks cool. Loves to have a range of different shapes and colours for the ornaments. Also buys a string of multicoloured flashing lights to drape around the tree because 'regular white lights are boring'. Tobias doesn't care too much about whether you put up a plastic tree or a real one, that is until he sees Brooklyn post a photo of his own Christmas tree on instagram and suddenly Tobias wants to buy a real tree too and make it look as aesthetically pleasing as possible. So he's dragging you out into the cold to go and buy one. Finds his idea of the perfect tree after a good hour of deliberating over which one looks best. Wants one that's got a good shape to it and has plenty of branches. In doing so, however, he very much overestimates how big his car is and how big his apartment is. Drives home with the top of the tree sticking between the seats it's basically sitting on the passenger seat with you. And then there's getting it into his apartment. It's just a little bit too tall so the top of the tree is bent over a little against the ceiling. Tobias rejects your idea to buy a saw and cut the trunk down because surely you can just trim to top, right? No, Tobias, you cannot. Ends up deciding to bend it so the top is angled down a little since you won't let him take the kitchen scissors to it. You're about to attempt to put the star on top until Tobias stops you, claiming he needs to make some adjustments before it goes up. Runs into the bedroom and returns like five minutes later with the star but now it has a picture of his face taped onto the front. Reaches up to put it on the tree but because it's a little too tall, the star is angled down so it looks like star Tobias is watching over like some cursed angelic watchman. Leo is very unsettled when he comes over to visit.

[0ur-diabolikal-rapture]

the past month or so has been really strange for me in terms of my current fixation/interest/idk the word for with toby stephens

In 2010 I studied jane eyre as part of my english class and my teacher made us watch the 2006 bbc adaptation with him and ruth wilson in it, and although I didn’t read the book cover to cover, I really loved the adaptation

In 2013 I went to see him perform in private lives in london. at the time I was really into the tv show the hour, and seeing anna chancellor being cast really made me want to see the show, and recognising toby from the promo material made me even more excited about going

after the show my friend at the time and I waited at stage door to try and meet anna, and we were lucky enough to meet the entire cast as it was literally just me and my friend waiting there. all of them were really great but toby in particular went out of his way to interact with us and was really sweet I’ll never forget it. the show itself was so funny and was definitely a highlight of the theatre trips I’d been on that year, and I’d even got clippings of interviews and other promo bits that anna and toby had done during that time too

and then in 2014, I’d always been obsessed with period dramas but I’d managed to watch north and south (2004) for the first time, which honestly changed my life it’s still one of my favourite things ever. and as a collector I’d obviously wanted to have it on dvd, so I opened up amazon and added it to my basket and I’m not sure why, maybe it was offered as a recommendation? or having watched a period drama it made me think of others I’d enjoyed? but I bought the dvd for jane eyre as well.

and since then, even through the many times I’d culled my dvd collection I always managed to keep those two even though I didn’t watch them, because I knew how much I’d enjoyed them in the past I couldn’t part with them

since around 2021 I’ve watched north and south maybe once a year maybe twice but I was still reluctant to rewatch jane eyre in case it wasn’t as good as I remember but finally in 2024, after a little period drama resurgence I rewatched it. and I couldn’t stop thinking about it for weeks. I wanted to rewatch it immediately, I’d completely forgotten how good it was all those years ago and I was so glad I’d chosen to watch it again

about a month ago now, I’d seen a edit on my twitter of toby for black sails, I didn’t even know the show existed I had no idea of the context or anything but I saw it and was so intrigued by it that I went out the same day and bought the entire boxset, I had no job and I really didn’t have the money to purchase it but I just had a good feeling about it. (for context: I don’t have wifi at my place so I buy dvds to watch things) but after a couple of episodes I was so happy that I got them and I knew it would be my new favourite show ever and I was obviously obsessed with flint

since finishing black sails I bought a few more dvds of toby’s work and I’m having such a good time and I genuinely don’t know why I didn’t do this after seeing private lives because that’s my usual pattern after seeing things that I really enjoyed. I really admire his craft and there’s just something about him I can’t really describe but I’m just a little fascinated at the moment

it’s just been a strange but interesting time for me having loved an actor’s work for such a long time, having met him such a long time ago and only now really exploring his work properly. I’m obviously having the best time but it feels so.. bittersweet? illogical? like I’ve missed out on a lot? life is strange…

but anyway I watched the tenant of wildfell hall today and baby toby holding a puppy healed me

[literaticat]

With Algonquin closing, ive been hearing talk that YA is dying, YA writers are ditching YA to write adult, and only unicorns and super trendy YA books will get bought now. As a debut author, this is making me feel SO doom and gloom about my career even before it’s started! Do you have any thoughts? Thank u Jenn !

Not to be mean, but baby where have you BEEN?

YA has been "Dying" for like, the better part of a decade, and has been fully rigor mortis, toe up with a tag on it, authors "ditching YA", etc, for several years. If anything, YA has recently experienced something of a reanimation -- the former corpse has officially got a pulse again and is breathing, though perhaps still a little clammy. The hotness of 2024 is complaining about how MIDDLE GRADE is dead. Keep up! ;-)

In reality, everything is cyclical. Categories or genres or trends or whatever boom, they get oversaturated, sales fall off, eventually they come back. And people ALWAYS say that "publishing is dying" that "only trendy books will be able to be bought now" or whatever whatever. I was reading DEAR GENIUS, the collected letters of Ursula Nordstrom (highly recommend btw), and there was this whole part in there about bookstore people complaining that TV was destroying the publishing industry, nobody would buy books anymore, authors should just pack it in, etc. It was literally the same conversation, and that was like 70 years ago.

(For a bit of a reality check, you might check out this post from the pinned FAQ: I heard that traditional publishing is DEAD, is that true?)

As for your opening premise, I think it is faulty, AYR closing hasn't really got much to do with the other stuff.

To be clear: I love Algonquin Young Readers. I have sold many a beautiful book to AYR over the years; they were my special favorite. (Don't tell the others!) Their founding publisher, Elise Howard, who I aspire to be for real, is an absolute Dear Genius herself and a wonderful editor and person (and now, agent)!

I am very grateful to have been able to work with the whole team there for the past decade, and I am sad that the program Elise started and Cheryl Klein and the others continued will be coming to a close, and that two wonderful editors and a terrific marketing person will be looking for new jobs (but I do hope/believe/feel strongly that they will all land in good spots, they are really great!) -- HOWEVER.

Algonquin was bought by Little Brown several years ago. And whilst Algonquin the brand is closing now, those books are not disappearing, they are just being folded in to LB. In other words, the backlist books will still be in print, and the frontlist/forthcoming books are still going to be published, just with a different publisher name on the spine. Also Algonquin only published like... 2, maybe 3 new YA books per season? It's a small list! (Small but mighty! -- but still, very small!)

So.... I'm not sure what, if anything, the news of their closing says about the larger world of YA books? In other words, obviously it is NOT GREAT, it’s a sad loss, we loved that publisher, it's good for the publishing ecosystem to have a variety of publishers so fewer is not good, capitalism and massive corporate conglomeration and whatnot are sucky things, it's awful when nice people are out a job -- but there's zero reason for you to take that news as like, an OMEN about YOUR CAREER or something. It has nothing to do with you. Unless your book was coming out from Algonquin, it won't affect YOU at all. (And even if your debut WAS an AYR book... hopefully those effects would be minimal at the end of the day, as those books are still coming out!)