#i sent this to my work chat on the last day of job i quot last lmao

[annakie]

Let's Spend Lots of Money!

Back in June I posted about how after a huge storm rolled through, I was without power for over five days and then talked about all the insurance and stuff going on.

Well, things have progressed since then!

Would you like to read/see pictures of exterior home renovation? This is the post for you! Warning: It's really long! And the story isn't done yet!

Here's a cut for extreme length!

PART ONE: The To-Do List

When it was over, at the end of my post, I posted some To-Do's:

Call Plumber - Done, and I thought the problem would be solved for another year or more.

Get garage door serviced. Done. The guy I called was clearly trying to rip me off. He told me immediately that I needed new springs, and when I pushed back and pointed out how shiny and new my garage springs were, because they were less than five years old, and they just needed to be tightened, he tried telling me that it's not possible to tighten garage door springs, something I knew for a fact was bullshit. I pushed back on him and was about to tell him to just leave when instead he had me sign a thing saying that he couldn't promise that fixing the springs would fix the problem and if I called them out again it would be another service call fix instead of guaranteed work. In the end, I got what I wanted but paid too much and marked that company in my phone as "never call again." The work they did do was fine, but screw them.

Get Handyman to take care of the fallen tree - Check, a day or two after power came back. I tipped him extra for it, too, because he always takes care of me. My insurance lady told me what I paid was quite inexpensive for the job.

Work with Insurance - Yep! We'll get to that.

Talk to my neighbors about the fact that I’m going to get a wood fence put up to replace our chain link one. YEP. We'll get to that, too.

Get the electrician back to wire up the house for a generator. Nope. Not yet. But someday.

Buy a generator Not yet, but again, someday.

Clean out the garage, for real. Maybe when it's not 100 degrees out every day again. But yeah, on the list, for multiple reasons.

So yeah... the last six weeks or so have been a trip.

PART TWO: Getting Money

One of the things I did when I didn't have power was see that we could file a claim with FEMA for disaster assistance. I figured... why not. A day or two after I got power back, a FEMA inspector lady called and then came to the house. I pointed out all of the things. I ended up getting a little bit from FEMA. Not a ton, but honestly, I was grateful. Anything helped.

Later that week, or maybe the next, my insurance sent an adjuster. Crazily she was flown down from another part of the country, she was living in the exact town that I grew up in. Like it is not a huge town. Not "small" but also just not somewhere you'd expect to meet someone from on the reg. So we had a good time chatting about the city when she came to inspect the house.

Insurance gave me an OK amount. My roof was old so they only paid out 40% of the replacement cost. And yeah, that's about what I got from them them with the final price when it was all said and done.

PART THREE: Finding Help

My roofer initially seemed great. I was excited to work with him. When the insurance came, instead of him coming, he sent an "assistant" who didn't really seem like he knew much of what he was doing or was very helpful. But hey, you know what? right after a storm like that, they're gonna be busy.

Several times over the next couple of weeks I texted him asking how things were progressing on just getting me a quote. He sent a whole other guy over like two weeks later for the fence quote. He barely seemed interested to be there. Um, okay. He also wouldn't even give me a ballpark at the time. Whatever.

Two weeks after that I hear from the roofer that he's almost done with my quote. By then it was the weekend before July 4th.

I'd gotten the money from the insurance. I'd sent the documentation of their payout to the roofer and made it clear I had a sum of cash above that (not exactly how much) to come out of pocket, and a priority list for the work to be done. My best guess is that he figured my business wasn't worth as much time as other people's, so I kept getting shuffled to the bottom of the stack. OK. His prerogative. Fair. But I was at the limit of my waiting, considering how bad my roof was.

My across the street neighbor had told me that she had her roof redone a year or two ago who she said did a good job, and he'd come to see how her roof fared from the storm and told her to give me his number if I wanted him to look at it. So when I didn't hear from my roofer after July 4th week, I went and asked her for the number, then texted Joel, the new roofer.

Anyway, Joel came out the next day. I showed him all the work I'd been approved for. He and I negotiated a price and materials for the roof. A price was set that was right about what I thought it should be.

Still had some money leftover in the budget so I asked about a fence, specifically an 8' Cedar fence. His quote was $1k more than I was hoping it would be, but honestly, still what I thought was a good deal.

He also mentioned a price for the patio roof. I was at my hoped-for spend limit and would get back to him about the patio roof.

In the end, I pulled a little more money together and told him to go for it.

That was Tuesday and Wednesday.

Original Builder sent me my quotes on Wednesday. How nice. Too late. Also they were like 30% higher than what I settled on with Joel. He just emailed them, didn't even bother to follow up with a text.

I had a polite response planned out in my head if he'd texted or called. But he didn't. Oops, I guess I didn't see that email.

PART FOUR: The Survey Drama

Thursday, Joel and his main builder came out, tore out the chain link fence and started putting up 10' poles for the 8' fence (2' of which is buried in concrete in the ground.)

Joel also told me that he needed a copy of my land survey for the build permit, which I should have from when I bought the house.

I spent a good hour searching through every document I had from when I bought my house in 2003 looking for it. And I felt I'd pretty much kept everything. I had my bids on houses I didn't win in there. I had notes that I took back then.

I did not have a survey. Well... shit.

So, I started by looking at the city website online. The city does not keep copies of surveys.

So I tried calling my mortgage company. Except oops they went out of business in like 2010.

Getting real panicked, I threw a hail mary and went to look up my Title company. They'd been bought out in like, 2007. But there were a couple of people working under franchise names of that company still. A total longshot, but I called the person nearest me.

That very nice man said he couldn't help me BUT I should call the home office. He gave me the name and number of a lady named Kim.

So I called Kim, and she was very very sweet. And extremely doubtful she had anything on file, but she would get with the records department and look.

A half hour later she called back. THEY'D FOUND IT. Holy crap. Even she was astonished.

I thanked her profusely and asked her to thank the records department. A few minutes later, the survey was in my email. And hey, it had my signature from 2003 on it! I sent that over to Joel and we got the permit. WHEW. Work continued.

I printed out three copies of the survey and emailed it to myself at two other email addresses.

PART FIVE: Communication

I texted my neighbor on the side where the fence would be built (the other neighbor had built their fence, also an 8' cedar fence, like 20 years ago, so hey, at least I only had to pay for two full sides and two fronts.

Technically I text with their daughter, as her parents don't speak English. They knew that this was coming and were cool with it. They knew the fencer would need to do some work in their yard and that there would be no fence for a little while. I asked Joel to please help minimize the time there was no fence for their dog (a pitbull, she's very sweet) to be penned in by.

Just want to say my neighbors are saints. They were very cool with everything, though I sent them many apologies. It was especially frustrating because we took the fence separating our yards down on Friday and there was no full fence put back up all weekend. It couldn't be avoided, though. Just wish the days had gone by faster. They could only let the dog our on the leash for those days. I asked (daughter) several times what I could do to say I'm sorry and thank you and they were really just kind and chill about it anyway. I am still thinking of something I could do for them, though, once this is all over. My initial thought is a small basket of dog toys and treats for the pupper.

I also started discussing paint stain colors for the fence with Joel, and let my neighbors help me make a decision, since they'd have to look at it, too. In the end, we decided to go with the same brown color that the fence on my other side already was. I kinda wanted to go with maybe a dark grey, which would also match the neighbors house well, but that's what they wanted and having a color match was my other main choice, and probably the right one, even if it doesn't match with our houses.

Mostly I'm glad my good relationship with my neighbors is intact.

PART SIX: CONSTRUCTION BEGINS!

Okay yeah so Thursday some poles got put up. Friday the rest of them got put up. Joel is mostly coordinating everything, the main builders are Jose and his wife Maria. Neither of them speak English and my High School and College Spanish were uh, 30 years ago but I retained a decent amount. Mostly though, we communicate through whatever sentences I can piece together and a lot of Google Translate. We have had entire conversations through Google Translate. It's great.

Saturday the work on the poles were finished and Sunday no work got done... I mean... it's Sunday. It was only annoying because of my neighbors having to take care of the dog and I felt bad about it.

Over the weekend I also picked out roof shingles. I got an architectural single, which is a nicer shingle. I wanted a medium-grey color -- I never liked the light grey my old roof was, I didn't pick it out, though I know lighter is probably cooler. I picked what I thought was a nice compromise.

PART SEVEN: Roof Day One

AKA my new Skylight.

Monday I woke up stupid early for no reason. But it was fine that I did because at 6:30am the doorbell rang. The roofers were here. And they got started right away.

It... was loud. I knew it would be but I don't think I was quite prepared for how loud.

But I had little to do after welcoming them, so I mean, when it was time for me to work (my job is 100% WFH still, yay!) I just got to work, doing my best to ignore the noise and hoping they wouldn't fall in on me. The cats were terrified and hiding, curled up together under my recliner in the living room, their normal safe place. I put food, water and their litter box in there, closed the door 90% of the way, and let them be.

Anyway, here I was, working away in my office and at about 10:15 am, there was a bright light and a foot in my ceiling.

First and most importantly, he is fine! He slipped and his leg fell through. It wasn't the end of the world, and MOST important, he CRAZILY fell through right above my very tall bookcase, the tallest piece of furniture I own. Instead of falling completely through the ceiling, he "stepped" two feet down, and his foot caught on the bookcase, and he pulled it right back up. If this had happened ANYWHERE else, it might have been a LOT worse.

Joel and Jose came in and assessed the situation and Jose said no problem. For about three hours the hole remained, until Joel came back from Home Depot with some drywall, and I had a funny story to tell all my friends, co-workers and family. That angle in that pic up there is literally an angle from where I sit while I work all day. Lots of fun comments about my new skylight and terrible puns from my brother.

It currently looks like this:

You can see the scuffs on the wall from the guy who fell's shoe!

Jose came in and got the drywall on and the spackle in. There was a crack already from the window to the ceiling, from the house settling, so he just went ahead and spackled that, too.

I actually have the paint can for that paint in my garage, so I handed that over to them to paint match.

Honestly, aside from being glad the worker is OK, I do not get upset over stuff like this as long as it gets fixed, and it well, so it's fine!

There's a similar hole in my garage ceiling, too, which still needs fixing.

The roof workers worked from 6:30am until 9pm. It was 100 outside that day. They were amazing.

This was taken Mid-day when they were eating lunch.

I not only was getting new shingles, but new decking (aka the wood that the shingles rest on that is connected to the rafters. I know they didn't redo the decking in 2003 when I bought the house and they put the cheapest roof possible on it before selling it to me. Joel confirmed that there were several rotting places in the decking and I saw a few pieces myself. And under in the attic the decking they installed a Thermal layer for more insulation that wasn't there before.

I did have good insulation installed pretty early, like 2005, so at least when the power has gone out since it's stayed nicely warm/cool depending on the season.

I had some old whirly type vents coming out of the house. Several of them were either broken or uh... very squeaky. Especially when it was cold, one of them had a definite squeak that you could hear outside and it was mortifying if my neighbors could hear it. That one, or maybe another one, rattled really badly when it was windy, too. TBH I would just put in my headphones to sleep sometimes because of roof noise the last year or two during very cold or windy nights.

Well, the roofers got rid of all of those. In place, they put a ridge vent, which basically means a tiny gap along the entire top ridge of the house, covered up by a special shingle. I learned all about it when I watched a Youtube about it the next morning after looking at it and going "WTF is that little bump?" Anyway, no more loud squeaky/rattling vents for me. My house is modern now. :D

So anyway, Monday night they finished getting roofing over the entire house, but the garage still wasn't done.

This was taken early Tuesday morning, there'd been tarps over the garage that night. There was no rain forecast, so everything was cool.

PART SEVEN POINT FIVE: No Internets (Part 1)

This is part 7.5 because I had to come back and add it in later when I forgot to add it until I was almost done writing, and I don't feel like correcting all the section titles, but it is absolutely part of the story.

Monday early evening as they were hurrying to finish getting roofing over at least the house part of the roof they got some of the garage done. Around 7pm there was a blip where my internet went out, but it came back.

And then at like 8:15 as they were finishing, it went out and DIDN'T come back.

I did all the normal troubleshooting things, put in a ticket with my provider, and called tech support.

Eventually I got someone on the line who asked me to make sure everything was plugged in, what, like I'm some kind of idiot? I work in IT! I know what I'm doing! But, I humored her. And she reminded me that there's not only the box on the outside of my house, but also the one in the garage, could I please check to make sure that was plugged in?

OK Sure. Constructions been going on, I'll humor her.

So anyway, I had forgotten the the box in the garage was plugged into an outlet in the ceiling that had been put there for my garage door. It had come completely out in all the banging from the roofers.

OK no problem, right? I'll just plug it back in, and voila! Internet!

Um except the plug is right above my car, like dead center.

OK sure, just gotta move my car!!!

...except there was a dumpster in my driveway, riiiight behind my car. I couldn't move my car more than a foot if I tried.

I spent like 10 minutes trying to reach it with my stepladder (nope not even close) or maneuver it back in with a broom handle (lol noooo chance) and gave up.

I took this pic just now for illustrative purposes. The plug is now plugged back in. But yeah, I had to cancel my Monday night PF2e game from last of Internets.

In the morning, I overslept, and they rang the doorbell to let me know they were there. I saw Joel and waved to him, and one minute later I went back outside to tell him about the internet problem. He was gone. I texted him, didn't hear back. It was getting close to work time, so I called him and he'd left as soon as he saw I was home and ready for the workers to work. I didn't realize he was so far away already, but he still turned around, came back in, and figured out a way to plug the plug back in without standing on my car. I was a half hour or so late to logging into work but it all worked out. Just a little bump in the road. I felt bad that he had come come back from wherever he went, too. I swear I looked for him a MINUTE after I saw him that morning!

Part EIGHT: Fencing!

While the roofers roofed, Jose and Maria were busy with the fence. And by the end of the day Monday, they had most of the neighboring fence with the dog put up.

In the picture in part 7 above, on the left is the fence that's been there 20 years. You can see that those neighbors put the "ugly" part of the fence with the poles and boards on my side.

Honestly I've been mad about it for the 20 or so years it's been up. Not like super mad, I never talked to them about it, but I just thought it was really shitty of them to do that. I've always tried hard to be as kind and thoughtful to my neighbors as I could be and wouldn't have dreamed of doing that if I had put the fence up first.

In the alley and the other side of their house, the pretty side is the outside and the ugly side is inside. But on THAT ONE SIDE, they gave me the ugly side. Never talked to me about it, never consulted me about the fence, it just went up one day and I was left to deal with it.

I've always even since been kind about granting them access to fix their fence and am on good terms with the wife of the couple of who lives there. And when my house was broken into in 2011 the husband heard it happen and called the police and gave a statement, which I thought was very good of them, the police were able to get my house sealed back up somewhat so when I came home a few hours later the damage as minimized.

So yeah, I'm not sure why I got the ugly side of the fence from them. Also like, it seems way easier to climb that side of the fence so all they did was make their own yard less secure? I didn't want that! A big part of wanting an 8' fence was more security!

Anyway, it was important to me to not make my other neighbors look at the ugly side of the fence. Also, I just figured why not have it look the same all the way around? And again, the security issue.

But also... like two or three years ago the neighbors on that side put up sheds on their property... and backed them right up to the property line. Again, no discussion with me, they just did it, and by the time I saw it, happened it was too late to change anything.

I wasn't super happy with it because of this scenario right here.

Sunday Joel and I had a long conversation about what to do about it, and I was still committed to wanting the ugly side on the inside. But they literally couldn't hammer back there to get the fence up behind the sheds.

In the end, we went with an, admittedly weird, compromise.

Note that that side of the fence goes that far back so that both of the windows on that side of the house are inside the fence. Again, security.

So yeah, the fence swaps facing mid-way for just the part where their sheds are. I still have mixed feelings about it but honestly, it's fine. I wish it could look completely the same all the way around, but, it works OK this way. Maybe I should have made the neighbors look at the ugly side the entire way, but the security issue was important in my mind... even though tbh anyone who really wanted to could just climb up on my neighbors sheds and hop over. It's a little weird and I guess technically I gave up a few inches of unusable property there, but it's a compromise I can live with any whoever buys the house after me can live with it, too.

Honestly at this point, can't wait for them to finish the fence all-around because I feel like I can barely sleep knowing all this expensive STUFF is just laying around my wide-open yard.

It's also real dumb because my 4' chain link fence kept no one past five years old out of my yard, it wasn't even padlocked, and yet I feel less secure with no fence.

This is what the back of the fence looks like right now (Thursday morning) and has since... I think Monday or maybe Tuesday. Joel's had problems sourcing more of the right boards. The gap on the left is, of course, where the back gate will be. I do feel better having it like, two-thirds done at least. there's also no gate on the front yard yet, either, which will just be flush with the end of the fence there.

PART NINE: The Patio Begins!

The roofers were done with their parts Wednesday afternoon. And I love the roof so much, but I'm going to hold off on posting pictures of that quite yet!

The patio roof before, if I had to guess, was built in the 1980s. The roof itself was just a big piece of corrugated metal, held up by some OK-built wood beams and ironwork pillars in the front. It was fine, it was functional. You can see in this pic from last month pretty well the construction and also how it was getting holes in it.

The wood was also really starting to rot. There were a couple of places where it barely still connected because of wood rot. I'd guess within 5 years it would have been falling down. It was definitely time for a new one, and the price Joel gave me I thought was really fair for a patio roof of the same quality.

Well, I was wrong about the quality.

When Jose ran out of wood for the fence, he and Maria got started on the patio. First, they demo'd it.

Oh hey, also first look at the new roof color.

That's how my patio looked all Tuesday night to Wednesday morning. You can clearly see in that second picture some of the wood rot. Here's some more of it.

That piece on the upper left I'm pretty sure was the part right over my patio door that I had to look at basically like, all the time. It was disintegrating.

So yeah, I was so glad to see that go.

A couple of years ago, when the big tree near my house was still there, it hadn't gotten trimmed recently and there was an ice storm. The tree branches swung low and the icy branch ends were smacking against that metal roof in the wind. It was loud and spooky. I had to go sleep in the living room that night from the sound. I really didn't like that metal roof.

I'm never going to have that problem again, since no tree there (for now...) but also the construction of the new patio roof is very different.

We'll get back to that.

PART TEN: Crazy Wednesday

Wednesday morning began with me realizing that all the banging and knocked one of the lights off of my bathroom ceiling. No problem, Let Joel know, it'll get fixed.

Jose and Maria finished up the demo of the patio roof (chunks of it are still in my yard).

I honestly had no idea what they were planning to do to replace it. Joel just told me to trust him, it's going to be great. OK!

The next thing I knew they're cutting into my house. WTF? Trust me, Joel said, it's gonna be great. OK!

Tuesday the sewer had started backing up again. God damnit, it JUST HAD backed up and I had it cleaned a month and a half ago when I got power back. So I called the plumbers, they were scheduled to come out that afternoon.

Just another thing I didn't need, but whatevs. I had a very productive morning for once this week while working, at least.

In the early afternoon, they had started to demolish more of the patio than I expected. They cut through some of the eaves, and took some of the facing off of the house where I wasn't expecting.

The plumber also arrived and was doing his thing. He then told me that my entire sewer was fine, I didn't have a stoppage. He took me out in the alley, though, and showed me that there WAS a stoppage outside the property line in the alley, and told me to put in a ticket with the city.

Kinda hate that it cost me $350 to find that out, but mostly it was a bit of a relief that it wasn't actually my problem.

I went back inside, put in a ticket with the water department, and got back to work.

Then, weirdly, my internet went down again a half hour or so later.

I checked all of the connections, then got a sinking feeling. I went outside and saw more stuff cut down and in that stuff was... a wire. I looked inside that wire and yeah... that's an internet cable.

That's a terrible picture but you can see some of the facing it came out of, lol.

Literally as I was taking that picture, a guy from the water department walked up to me and told me that there was indeed a stoppage in the alley. Because some kid had unplugged the cleanout line behind my house and dropped a baseball down there. The baseball was probably stopping up the entire block.

They couldn't get it out, so they were putting in an emergency ticket to dig up the line, and pull it out. I wouldn't have sewer for a day or so.

I think the "How SCREWED AM I with all of this going on!?" look on my face (though I was very polite and not upset with him obviously) paired with the state of my yard and the work being done gave me some sympathy -- he assured me I didn't have to pay for it, and he'd let me know when things would stop.

Ooooohkay.

It also started to drizzle a little at that point, but it never actually rained and work didn't have to stop, thankfully! Instead, Jose and Maria had a lovely overcast day in the 80's to work in. I had been worried about them the last couple of days and had supplied them with a big box of water (From a water delivery service) and big cups of ice to make sure they were well hydrated.

I went back in my house, laid down on the couch, and tried putting in a ticket with my internet company. The chatbot wouldn't let me do it, so I called and sat on hold for 45 minutes just staring at the wall. This was A Lot.

I also let my boss and Eric, my friend/co-worker who lives nearby know. Eric was up at the office today, but told me he was about to come back home and would bring me a hotspot, so I'd have SOME internet.

While I was laying on the couch, the doorbell rang. It was the water guy, and with a big smile on his face he told me that his coworker was able to use some tool to get the baseball out! There'd be no sewer work needed and things were flowing freely.

Fiiiinally, a break.

Eventually got to talk to a real person on the phone with the internet company, and not long after Eric arrived with the hotspot. I showed him around the mess a bit. After over an hour "break", I got back to work.

And as of Thursday morning, I'm still on the hotspot. But this one is pretty fast, and it has a network jack, so I even got to run my Wednesday night D&D game off my PC last night. What a relief.

Internet company should be here this afternoon to fix stuff. I'm probably going to have to pay for that, though.

The other great news is that somehow i didn't even notice that the gutter contractor had been here, done his job and left!! I don't even know when he was there/did his job, and my office is the front of the house! Maybe he did it when I was laying on the couch in the living room!? It was FAST, though. Joel just called to tell me to go outside to look, and WOW. He'd said they might do black gutters. I was unconvinced but trusted him.

He was so very, very right.

Anyway, finally, here's a pic of the front of the house, with the new roof and black gutters.

Holy crap, what a difference. My house almost looks fancy now. Almost. The shingles are so gorgeous.

You can see that ridge vent pretty well there. And that's with the old white gutters obviously. The black gutters give the house a really striking and defining line that really pops.

Here's a quick comparison with the old roof and gutters:

A truly amazing difference. And yeah I need to paint the garage door. Going to actually get to that now.

PART ELEVEN: The Patio Continued.

SO! They got so much done, and although there's a lot to do, I am already so well pleased.

The reason they were cutting into it so much was because they'd determined that the best course of action was to have hte patio become a part of the roof, and it would be built on a similar slant instead of just a flat piece of metal. Instead, it would just be a full roof anyway.

The posts are huge, thick wooden posts, which Joel tells me will be covered when they're done.

The roof is literally... the thermal barrier, decking and will be the same siding as the roof I already have.

This is what it looks like as of last night...

They did accidentally also break the light cover over my porch light so that'll need to be replaced, but it's small potatoes.

I still don't have a full picture of what it's going to look like, and I'm so excited for it. It's going to look so nice. I've loved the work Joel and Jose/Maria have done so far and honestly trust them completely with whatever now. The quality is fantastic and despite the little hiccups, things are actually, honestly going well.

I'm going to post this now and report back in a couple of days when it's done! I'd planned on holding off until it was ALL done, But this is post is already long enough!

This has been one of the biggest money commits I've ever done, after buying my home and buying cars, but honestly, totally worth it.

Gonna suck if I end up selling the house to gtfo of Texas in the next couple of years, but at least it'll sell for more if it looks this good!

[estellamiraiauthor]

Blargh, this guy at work… I don’t think he’s a bad person but he gets under my skin sometimes.

I had already applied IN ADVANCE and had approved the following schedule for this week: Leave at 3 on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday off. It was on my calendar. In a group chat with our boss at 9pm on Friday, this guy sends me 27 pages of TINY font for translation and says he wants it by Wednesday at 3.

That’s… not possible. If I didn’t have unchangeable commitments on those days I could PROBABLY do a passable-for-an-internal-document job, but I couldn’t change my plans. He couldn’t change the deadline (SO WHYYYY WAIT UNTIL FRIDAY NIGHT TO ASK???) I’m still not sure if no one checked my calendar or if they actually thought it was possible to translate 27 pages between 9 am and 3 pm in addition to another job the same boss had given me.

I offered to work a few hours on Sunday, but because I ALSO had family commitments then, I couldn’t do a full day and take a substitute day off, but I said I’d do 3 or 4 hours just as overtime. The boss said no, just run it through machine translation and edit it. I said I also couldn’t EDIT 27 pages by Wednesday without working on the weekend or “late night” hours, and he said just do what I could. SIGH

So I did. I got a first pass on 20 of 27 pages, couldn’t even start the other 7. And with only one editing pass on a shitty machine translation… I think the correct meaning is communicated at this point, but not necessarily prettily, and I can’t guarantee no typos.

I also actually started at 6:30 and just punched in at 7:00 (the earliest when they don’t have to pay me “late night” overtime rates.

A translation company would’ve asked for 2-3 WEEKS to do this job. When I was an in-house translator and we had to do the financial reports we’d knock out something similar in 2-3 days BUT that was with 5-6 translators all taking individual slides and then passing them around to each other to cross-check. It wasn’t possible to give him what he wanted in the time I had available.

So what he got was… again, 20 pages probably communicate the correct meaning in a first-draft way. The other 7 are mostly gibberish.

I sent it back to him, and what did he do? He sent it off to someone in another division to finish the last 7 pages (fine) with a note that “Estella translated the first 20”.

OMFG WHAT THE FUCKING HELL DUDE??? You gave me a TINY FRACTION of the time any translation company or freelancer would’ve quoted you. I TOLD YOU it couldn’t be done in that time. YOU TOLD ME to just do what I could in the time allotted with machine translation… you do NOT get to put my name on a fucking SHODDY piece of work that is shoddy ENTIRELY BECAUSE you waited until 2.5 business days before the non-negotiable deadline to think to ask if I was available. 🤬🤬🤬🤬

(I replied to the email, removing the guy who made the unreasonable request from the CC, and clarified that I had NOT translated it but only done a super fast first-pass edit on a machine translation, and therefore feel free to make any necessary edits without worrying about whether there was a reason for any odd wording…trying to say “please do not think so little of me that this is actually my translation” without actually saying that.)

[ilsanslut]

Hello again Vampieeeee! This also totally not from the same anon who (uhhhh) might've or might not have sent this...

"

Ok so , this isn't really a request or anyt

hing..

BUT EXCUSE ME , HAVE YOU SEEN YOUR FUCKING MICHAEL KAISER BOT?? AJDCAKBKFAJDBF

IT'S SO DAMN GOOD BUT THE MAN FOR REAL IS ALL OVER ME. ALSO SOMEHOW THE NSFW CHAT FILTER GOT DISABLED 💀💀

i also love your fics , keep up the amazing work and have a good day/night!.........."

I DECIDED TODAY SHALL BE THE DAY WHERE I TRY ALL OF YOUR BOTS.

(I regretted it...Alot) Missus , your bots are wild , there HAS TO BE SMUT FOR ALL OF THEM , HORNY FLIPPING DEMONS. (Quoted from Itoshi Sae himself UWU) , {This is also Shidou we're talking about}.............

EVEN THE FLUFFY NAGI ONE BECOME 18+ AFTER 2 TEXTS.

I felt like randomly just saying this to my favorite Blue Loc fic writer!

HOPE YOUR JOB ISN'T STRESSING YOU OUT TOO MUCH , AND ONCE AGAIN-

G'day or G'night!

hii, nonnie! welcome back!

LMAO IM NOT EVEN SURPRISEDD idek whyy character ai has the filter in place anymore since one: it's so easy to break and two: my sukuna bot is tossing my character on the bed and bussin them wide open before i can even say hi-🧍🏾

i wouldn't particularly call it stress just YET, per say, but gawd DAYUM. the last time i like work WORKED seriously was in 2019-March 2020. ever since then i've just been doing college to get my prereqs for nursing and then BOOM nursing school, and now BOOM tossed back into 10-12hr shifts like omfg this has to be inhumane.

like i deadass just sit on the edge of my bed in the morning like this and wonder if this check is worth it or if i should just shake ass on OF. 🧎

[dustythewind]

It was a long time ago, but on Twitter I got replies or quote retweets from a few. Let’s see…

Mark Gatiss, Michael McKean, Claudia Christian, Adam Baldwin…oh, and William Shatner. Shatner’s quote retweet led to me getting attacked by Jarped’s army because I didn’t include him in the question I had asked Shatner, but i did mention Jensen and Misha.

Oh, and speaking of Misha, he noticed me during his cookbook promotionin 2019 and sent me homemade cookies. I was one of five people picked, and I’ve never had my notifications blow up so much either before or since.

Mark Christopher Lawrence is a sweetheart and has followed me back on instagram and twitter, and accepted my friend request on Facebook. We’ve chatted briefly a few times via private message. (I rewatched Terminator and spotted him - told him I was surprised to see him, didn’t know he was in it. He told me it was his first huge movie job, was supposed to be two days and lasted 6 weeks, and that he feels blessed by God to be still working all these years.)

I had no idea Adam Rose was even on Instagram until he just randomly liked one of my posts 😳

I was like “nah, must be a different Adam Rose” but I checked and yeah, it was him. That was in July 2019, about a year before he started his Blue Cardigan Guy schtick.

That’s all I can remember.

has a celebrity ever noticed you on social media?

[existentially-yibo]

Happy Birthday rabbitcrimes!

In honor of my sweet roommate dedicating their latest fic to me I am memorializing the horrible platonic wangxian fic I wrote about us based on a dream I had about our lives together/our jobs -- they are Lan Wangji and I am Wei Wuxian in this fic, and also unfortunately in like everything that we do. I wrote this in like one hour and it is indeed supposed to be bad -- I swear I can write better than this. This fic was a part of a 24 page zine about us and how we are Platonic Wangxian. I had to modify the format of it to get it to post on tumblr so it somehow looks even MORE stupid, but yeah lol here she is. Happy belated Birthday @rabbitcrimes sorry for putting this on the internet 🐰🤡

                       PLATONIC WANGXIAN MODERN AU:

                            The One Thousand Dollar Day

Most days, Wei Wuxian wakes up later than Lan Wangji — unless he just hasn’t gone to sleep yet — particularly on days when they both work. These are objectively the worst days. Not only for the audacity that both of them have to work, but also because their work schedules overlap so that on these days, they inevitably miss each other. Lan Wangji leaves before Wei Wuxian wakes, Wei Wuxian leaves before Lan Wangji returns, Wei Wuxian finally returns after Lan Wangji has fallen asleep. It’s horrible. 

They may live together and are in constant communication both via their individual messages, messaging in the 4+ group chats they are both in, and the endless stream of pornographic content they share with each other on various media platforms; AND YET, when they  don’t see each other for 24 hours, it IS a tragedy akin to the fall of Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian, often stuck in baby-girl mode is very clingy, and will send work selfies to ensure that Lan Wangji doesn’t forget what he looks like, and that he is a snacc.

On this, the day our story takes place, the day has thus far… sucked. Bitches in the bookstore are really trying Lan Wangji’s patience, which is un-fortchy not an uncommon occurrence. Lan Wangji, perfect boy that he is, is responsible for every single inch of that bookstore, including physically holding up the wall beams in his big strong hands so that the ceiling stays up while the silly little patrons walk around and talk about how they all go to art school. Lan Wangji has also read every book that has ever been written, and  still just smiles and nods when people ask him things like if he’s heard of the greatest book ever written: “Infinite Jest.”

Things are even worse for Wei Wuxian, as he has just rolled over in bed like a beached seal and remembered that he, a good person, ALSO has to go to work. The fact that they live in a four person household and only they go to work is honestly insane . And yet, EVERYDAY (insert quote about everyday meaning everyday) BOTH Toast and Juno stay home making no money and committing crimes. Double guilty!!

Alas, nothing to be done. Wei Wuxian, still in bed, finishes the fic he fell asleep reading last night, sending Lan Wangji screen shots of the parts that make him wants to pull his teeth out with his bare hands, and then gets up to feed his screaming son.

The two of them fall into their daily routine — Lan Wangji at the bookstore, Wei Wuxian prepping for a night at the club — all the while messaging back and forth. It’s comfortable, comforting, the easy stream of thoughts, jokes, and little updates they haven’t yet told each other. Though they are not snugglin’ in one of their beds, or screaming in their living room, they are together in the homey space they’ve made between their phones. Wei Wuxian pauses midway through putting in his extensions to smile at a message and respond to the very correct take that Lan Wangji has sent him about their blorbos, tagging on one of his overly used memes, and then goes back to his hair. His days are easier when they’re sprinkled with Lan Wangji like this. He takes a moment to collect himself and not go little bitch mode about how he has found a family and made a home.

By 4:00 P.M. Wei Wuxian has complained at least twelve times about going to work, every time Lan Wangji patiently and sincerely telling him that it is indeed not fair, cruel and unusual, frankly insane. He walks to the train blasting UNIQ and for the umpteenth time texts Lan Wangji “this song is so bad,” and then, ��it does kinda bang tho.”

At work, he flirts with men to scam them out of money, living out the plot to started from the bottom / now I’m rich, except instead of murder it is acquisition of dollars (he is never sure if he is disappointed by the money over murder outcome). Lan Wangji finally gets home to their horrible children. On breaks, Wei Wuxian skips up to the locker room and checks his messages, there are memes and videos in a few of their shared group chats, and a photo sent by Lan Wangji of Juno curled up like a little angel on his bed. Wei Wuxian smiles, and hears himself getting called for stage. He heart reacts to the Juno pic and asks Lan Wangji how the rest of his day went.

The rest of the night goes by fast and busy, and Wei Wuxian doesn’t have time to check his phone. He twirls his hair and pretends to be interested when men tell him about bitcoin, or that they’re “not like other guys” because they “like to travel,” all the while thinking about gay porn.

On his way home, he reads a very pleased message from Lan Wangji that the store had a thousand dollar day, despite the season. Wei Wuxian beams for him. It’s 4:30 A.M. when he gets home and goes through his nightly routine: texting Lan Wangji as he’s coming in so he doesn’t worry, quietly closing his door to not wake him while he takes his make up off and makes ramen, then falls asleep as the sun comes up.

Later, Wei Wuxian wakes to the sound of the electric kettle. He picks up his purple felt Crown Royal bag and counts his cash from last night to the familiar sounds of Lan Wangji making tea in the kitchen, gently talking to Juno about getting her breakfast ready. Wei Wuxian’s face breaks out into a huge smile as he counts over a thousand dollars. Unable to contain his glee he enters into the kitchen, giving Lan Wangji a devilish look, which takes him by surprise and he laughs. Wei Wuxian loves walking into a room and making Lan Wangji laugh with just a face that makes mischief music play in their heads.

They fist bump over their shared thousand dollar days, and Wei Wuxian giddily brings out the cash so that he can show Lan Wangji the thick stack of hundreds and twenties. It’s Monday and they both have the day off. They’ll spend it reading quietly, or writing loudly, in the same room or separate rooms. It’s easy. Many things aren’t, but these days are.

“Let’s order Gorilla Sushi for dinner,” one of them thinks, as the other one says it out loud at the same time.

THE END!! 

[mrsseverussnape]

Hi! I'm sorry I just saw that request somewhere else and thought it was cute. Can I try again?

Can I suggest Alan x Reader and it's the first time they met each other at a Set or something and Alan really liked them but can't talk to them because they're both so busy so he tries to find out who they are and to get known to them? Then they go on a date and click immediately? :)

Fingers crossed! -💚

A/N: hello! Darling don’t be sorry🌸. It was on me, i just couldn’t think Alan like that. The fanfiction turned out little bit different than your request while i was writing it but i think it’s still cute so hopefully you’ll enjoy it💖

The timeline is early 90s.

Lucky Coincidence

You were on your way to your work in early hours, you liked to get out of your home early and walked to the museum where you worked. You have moved to Athens 2 years ago and from the very start you have fallen in love with the city. Especially the early mornings were your favourite, you loved to walk under the tangerine trees while the birds sang their sweet songs. But when you arrived in the museum, your dream-like moment immediately ended. 3 big trucks were parked in front of the museum door and they were blocking the road for the passengers but you showed your museum employee ID and rushed to the museum to see what’s going on. One of your co-workers saw you and your confused expression so she called out for you.

“Hey Y/N!”

You quickly walked up to her passing some people you don’t know. “Hi Eleni! What’s going on here?”

“They are going to shoot a movie here, for Hollywood! The museum made the arrangement last week when you were in your holidays.” Eleni explained excitedly but you weren’t very pleasant to hear this at all.

“So what are we going to do? Also they shouldn’t shoot a movie here, in a museum! They might damage the artifacts!”

“They will be here just for a week and they won’t use and flashes that cause a damage to the artifacts. And what you are going to do is you will give information about couple of sculptures to the actor, the boss wanted you to do this job.”

You sighed in annoyance, nobody has told you anything and now on the work day you found out that they are shooting a movie and you have to help them. “Thanks Eleni, I better see the boss. See you later!”

You made your way to the boss’ office and knocked on the door, you could hear some muffled voices coming from his room. Soon you heard him saying “come in”, when you entered the room you saw 3 more people beside your boss and one of them looked familiar, you have seen him in couple of movies; Alan Rickman.

“Good morning, miss Y/L/N. I was waiting for you. Have a seat please.”

You did as you’re told while greeting him back. He gave you a brief about what is going on and explained your job.

“Meet Mr. Rickman, you are going to help him about the sculptures.”

You were trying hard to hide your grin, maybe that movie thing wasn’t so bad overall. The actor smiled at you softly while holding his hand out for a handshake. You didn’t make him wait for long and shook his hand, you must admitted to yourself his hands were so soft and felt good on your skin.

“Since we met, when do you want to start studying about some sculptures, Mr. Rickman?”

“Now?”

“Alright! Then please follow me. Good day gentlemen.” You said rest of the men while leaving the room with Alan.

“So you are going to portray a history professor?” You started a small chat on your way to the first sculpture.

“Apparently.” Alan smiled softly, his hazel eyes were fixed on you. He wasn’t expecting to have such a beautiful young woman like you as his tutor.

“We need historians who looks like you, then maybe people will be more interested in it.” You blushed like crazy after realizing what you just said. Alan smirked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“I think you can lure people into history too with your pretty face, Miss Y/L/N.”

You bit your bottom lip while peeping to his way.

“Th-that is the first sculpture.” You mumbled while pointing the Aphrodite, Pan and Eros sculpture in front of you, still flushed by his words. He moved closer to you when you started to talk about the sculpture. Alan took a notebook out of his pocket and took some notes. You two walked around the archaeology museum, stopped time to time and you gave him some information about the meritorious artifacts. Alan was amazed by your knowledge but mostly by you. But your little study session cut by a worker who called Alan, saying he needs to get dressed for the shoot. Alan sighed and nodded at the worker.

“I must go… Thank you for your time, it has been a splendid lesson.”

“I am glad you enjoyed Mr. Rickman. See you tomorrow.” You have taken one step away from him when you heard him.

“Alan, call me Alan.”

Your lips formed a smile, turned your head to see him. “Y/N, just call me Y/N.”

 ~~~~

It has been 6 days since they started to shoot the movie and also 6 days you started to give Alan short history classes for his role. You and him kind of grew closer with each day, enjoyed each other’s companies but both of you were real busy with your real jobs beside that sessions, the longest time you two spent together was only 50 minutes. Tomorrow was their last day in Athens for the shooting and the director sent a message to you with a young boy; saying you don’t need to come tomorrow for your study session with Alan because plans have changed and they will be flying back to UK in the early morning. You knew this will last long only a week but your heart broke after hearing this out loud. You have enjoyed your time with Alan more than you wanted to admit, your little study sessions have became your favourite part of your day. And if you knew today was your last day with him, you could have done something special or at least you could say him a good bye. Your mood changed in a bad way after this news and you closed yourself in your room until end of your working hour.

While you were making your way out of the museum, you looked around to see Alan but he was nowhere to be seen. You didn’t want this to end like this, you walked over to his van hoping you might find him there but after couple of knocks you had to accept the fact he wasn’t there either. You were about to leave but then an idea came to your mind. You ripped a page from your notebook and wrote your name and phone number then did slide it under the door.

You were chilling on the sofa with a book when your phone rang. You literally jumped up and run to it, hoping it’s Alan.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?” the thick voice ensured you, it was Alan. You jumped slightly out of excitement.

“Yes, it is me.”

“I didn’t know about change of the plans this morning, I would say goodbye to you if I knew…”

You sense the sadness in his voice and it broke your heart, you stayed silent since you had a lump in your throat. Alan continued after a while.

“I know it is quite late but… Can I see you, Y/N?”

“Yes!” you have sounded very excited but you didn’t care about it at all. “I’ll be in front of the hotel in 20 minutes.”

“I will be waiting for you.”

As you have said you arrived the hotel he has been staying in 20 minutes, you saw him there by the door and walking back and forth.

“Alan!”

He stopped in his tracks and turned to your way immediately. “Y/N! Thank you for coming that late, you must be tired…”

You rubbed his arm gently and smiled up at the tall man. “I wanted to see you too, Alan. I was hoping you’d call…” you bit your lip shyly end of your sentence.

“There is not much to do at that hour, so you want to walk and talk?”

“Sounds good to me.”  

You two started to walk on the streets of Athens while talking about everything and nothing. It didn’t take long for you to notice that you two have so much in common. You haven’t talked about anything but the sculptures during your sessions so this surprised you both. You couldn’t help but think if you could meet with him another time, everything could have been different in a better way.

“I quote Plato; ‘According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.’”

“I have never heard it before, this is very interesting.”

You stopped and looked at him in the eyes.

“I feel like you are my other half, Alan... I know it is very early to say this but i just feel like it, y’know.”

His eyes grew in surprise for a second but soon his expression turned into a loving one, his hands found yours.

“I must agree with you, Y/N.” He looked deep in your eyes and leaned closer slowly. Your heart was beating so fast, you thought it might just run away from your body. Alan stopped when your noses touch each other.

“May i kiss you?” He whispered with his husky voice which sent shivers down your spine with anticipation. You nodded eagerly, he chuckled at you before pressing his lips onto your soft ones. It was a gentle kiss but you have never felt that good in your life. Your hand moved to his head, pulled his honey coloured hair gently which caused him to moan into the kiss. You pulled away smirking at him.

“Our lips fit so well too, we are totally soulmates.” You rested your hands on his chest smiling cutely at him.

“No doubt.” Alan kissed your forehead. “I will come back to you whenever i can...”

You sighed, you were back to reality from your dream state. “Don’t forget me...”

“I will never Y/N. How could i forget my other half anyways?” He pulled you in for a hug, you felt so safe in his warm presence and rested your head on his chest. The moon and the starts were shining above you in the darkness of the night while the tangerine flowers’ scent filled your nostrils and you were in the arms of a dreamful man. You couldn’t ask for a better night.

[darklove9314-blog]

Underneath My Skin:A Nessian fanfiction

Author’s note: Hey guys!!! Welcome to day 7 of Nessian month, ( This one is late) today’s prompt is Tattoo Artist AU. If you want to participate in Nessian Month, all prompts are on @illyrianet page

“Are you nervous?” Gwyn asked as Nesta looked over to her, Emerie sitting in the next chair, scrolling through her feed on her phone.

“Why would I be nervous?” Nesta asked leading through the book she had brought with her.

Today had been the day that Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie had made the spontaneous decision to each get a tattoo. It was all their first and each of them had an appointment with a different tattoo artist who they had talked with over the phone and sent the rough idea of what they wanted done.

“Well it is your first tattoo and I know most people are nervous for theirs.” Nesta shrugged.

“Nesta?” A voice asked as her eyes flickered up to see one of the hottest males she had ever seen. She put her book away looking up at him with a smile. His hazel eyes looking down at her.

“That’s me.” She answered with a grin as Emerie gave her a knowing smirk. “I’m all set up whenever you’re ready.” He told her as Nesta stood up, Cassian was going back towards the booth in the corner Gwyn whispered

“Of course Nesta would get the hot one.“ She sighed as her name was called from the other side her eyes widened.

“I stand corrected.” Gwyn grinned standing up and calmly making her way to the other side of the parlor shaking another attractive mans hand. Introducing himself as Azriel. Nesta gave her a subtle wink. Emerie sighed,

“Of course you and Gwyn got the hot ones knowing my luck I’ll probably get-“

A blonde woman emerged calling Emerie’s name as Emerie’s eyes swept up and down, a shy smile crossing her face as she commented,

“I love this place.” She sprang up almost tripping over her chair as she quickly recovered following the blonde woman into her section as Nesta headed towards where Cassian was stationed.

Nesta looked at the stencil in his hand with the design she had emailed him about, a small book that had one of her favorite quotes written on the front of it. A quote that meant a lot to her and her friends. Nesta smiled at the design as she looked into Cassian‘s hazel brown eyes. Gosh, he really was handsome. If she had been at a bar instead of a tattoo parlor, she would have offered to buy him a drink, but she guessed talking to him while getting her tattoo done would do.

“Did you decide where you wanted your tattoo?” He asked as Nesta pointed to a specific placement on her forearm.

“Right here will do.” she told him as he placed the stencil on her to test out whether or not she liked it. the gentle brushing of his fingers sending shivers up her spine. She shouldn’t be thinking all the thoughts she was thinking with a total stranger. It wasn’t like her.

“Does that look good?” He asked his voice seeming an octave lower, she ignored it dutifully and stared at the tattoo that would be inked permanently to her skin in an hour or so.

She nodded eager to get started.

“Alright, go ahead and sit on the chair facing me.” He instructed as she sat in the chair.

Cassian grabbed his stool pulling it closer to her as he looked at his inks. she had chosen to do a tattoo with colors, so she knew he was setting up his black, gray, blue, and silver ink. She had seen his work online, knew that he was good at it. she was fully prepared.

“Just remember we can stop whenever you want to. We don’t have to get this all done today just in case you’re not feeling up to it.” He smiled.

She smiled at him at the challenge. “Oh I’m more than prepared for this.” Nesta answered him. His smile grew.

“In that case, let’s get started.” He replied as she felt the first prickle to her skin. It felt similar to a cat scratch. with barely any pain there, but she knew that there could potentially be a difference between how she felt while he was outlining vs how she’d feel when he was shading, some claimed the outline hurt some the opposite, but she knew that it would be worth it in the end,

“So how long have you been a tattoo artist?” She asked

“Going on six years.” He answered.

“Impressive.”

He gave her a slight smile illuminating his face. She notice the tattoos that inked his light brown skin and the scars that marred them.

“Do you have a favorite piece?” She asked after a few silent moments had passed.

“Of my work or the tattoos I’ve received?”

“Both.” She asked intrigued to hear his answers.

“I’ve done a lot of tattoos, as for a favorite-“ He shrugged, “I like hearing the meaning behind the tattoo, I like people sharing their stories, Don’t get me wrong, I love my craft, but the people are what makes this job worth it.“

She tilted her head at that wincing slightly as the needle went over where the bone was, she was told that would hurt the worst, so she distracted herself.

“So what’s the story on your favorite tattoo?” She asked watching his hands as he worked.

“Me and foster brothers have wings on our backs to symbolize our relationship that way no matter how far we go or what city we may end up in, we’ll always have something to remember each other by.“ He answered as Nesta felt a pang in her chest. She had heard stories about the foster care system. knew how tough it could be for the children who were in them, but she knew it wasn’t her place to ask and that it was his story to tell so she simply asked.

“Do you all still talk to each other?”

He had finished the outline and now had started on the shading. It stung slightly but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.

“We’re roommates actually. One of them is actually working on your friend now.” He told her.

“The one by the name of Azriel?” She asked him. He nodded.

“That’s the one. He and I have always worked together. Rhys however, he works for the courthouse.”

“Didn’t want to be a tattoo artist like the rest of you?” She teased as a small smirk crossed his lips.

“He lacks the skills to do so.” He answered as Nesta felt another pang in her chest, One of a different sort.

“I can relate. I was more of the studious one in my family. My sister Feyre was the artist.” She answered.

“Does your sister live in the city?” He asked.

“Yes, but ugh, we’re not that close, it’s complicated.“ she answered not willing to elaborat. it wasn’t that her and Feyre didn’t love each other, it was just that having two neglectful parents made them seek comfort elsewhere. Anywhere else besides each other. Had made their fight horrid, both slewing out venomous words that they weren’t sure if they meant or not. It had been the worst when they both were teens, Feyre had been three years younger, but still accomplishing her goals had always been easier for Feyre, for Nesta, not so much.

Her and Elain were closer, but not by much. To Elain, Nesta had been overbearing. and she didn’t blame her for the thought. It was either she suffocated the people that she loved, becoming a burden or she hadn’t loved them enough. Both of which she had worked on in therapy or rather what she was still working on.

“I get complicated families.“ He said, a sad look in his eyes.

“I was always the complicated one.“ She told him. Not sure why she had done it. He was a complete stranger. but for whatever reason she felt as if she could talk to him about anything.

“So was I.” He confided in her. Making her eyes meet his. “Out of me, Rhys, and Azriel, I took things the hardest and I didn’t always handle them in the best ways. I always got into trouble. Said some awful things to them and the others, it took me time. And it wasn’t until I had a foster mom who gave a shit about why I was hurting that I truly started to heal. So I get being the complicated one, The way you feel like a burden even when you’re not.“

His thumb smoothed over the skin, checking on the ink there as she felt a calming reassurance in her chest. knowing that this would end soon. that this was probably the last time they would see each other.

“It looks like we’re almost done.” He told her changing to a lighter topic. Not knowing how they had gotten onto a heavier one,

“Looks like it.” She had told him. Looking at the book on her forearm.

“So I take it you’re a reader?” He asked, working on the last of her touchups.

“Have been since I was old enough to read.” She confirmed.

“Is this a quote from a book?” He asked gesturing to the quote there.

“Ugh no. It’s just the motto for us that my friend Gwyn came up with.” she told him as he read it.

“We are the rock against which the surf crashes and nothing can break us.” He smiled admiring the tattoo. “I like it.”

She wasn’t sure why the blush had crept on her cheeks at his words but it had.

“Thank you.” She told him hiding her blush from him. Normally she didn’t blush when a man gave her a compliment, but Cassian somehow was different.

“Well it looks like you’re done.” He answered. as she got up and went over to the full length mirror observing her tattoo, a book with her and her friends motto on it. They had all chosen the design together because as Gwyn had said herself, all their stories deserved to be told and all of them had a love for books.

“I love it. Thank you.“ She smiled as she glanced up at him.

“It was my pleasure.” He stated wrapping up her tattoo.

“Now you’re going to want to keep this wrapped for a couple of hours and then follow the instructions I give you on the paper you’ll leave with for tattoo after care, but besides that, you are free to go.”

After Nesta had paid and Gwyn and Emerie had finished with theirs. Gwyn and Emerie chatted happily about their tattoos looking at the colors they had chosen them in. the same colors as their friendship bracelets, Nesta smiled turning towards Cassian as she extended her hand to him.

“It was a pleasure meeting you.” Nesta told him as his hand slipped into hers, giving it a slight shake,

“The pleasure was all mine- Nesta-“

“Archeron.” She finished. A little more quickly then she would have liked.

“Nesta Archeron, the name does have a ring to it,” He answered giving her a wicked grin, Was he-Was he flirting with her? “Well Nesta Archeron, I hope we see each other again.” He stated and before she could answer his other client arrived as he went to tend to them and Gwyn and Emerie flocked her while they were outside,

“Do you ever think you’ll see him again?” Gwyn asked as Nesta looked back at the tattoo parlor with a smile on her face,

“I’m not sure, but I hope so,“

[unmaskedagain]

Ladybug in Smallville

           You can’t fix a broken heart, her grandmother told when Marinette was young and had ask why the older woman why she never remarried.

“You can forgive here,” Gina Dupain had pointed to her head. “And you can tell yourself every day that you forgive him, that all is well. And maybe you do. Maybe not right away, like you tell people but eventually… you do. You move on. You find some kind of peace. But that doesn’t mean your heart’s forgotten. Especially during the worst of it, when it’ll remind you every day just how much you’re still hurting.”

           The silver haired woman had look so dejected, so cynical compared to her usual chipper, charming self that it left the little girl stunned.

“Until one day, it doesn’t,” Gina continued. “And yet, your heart’s not the same. You’re not the same. No matter what you tell yourself. Sometimes, you’d swear it’s just a giant scar on your heart. Because at least that means it’s healed; beaten up, bruised, and permanently disfigured but healed.  Other days when you think too hard about it, and you are walking through memory lane; you can just barely admit the truth. That you can still feel every jagged edge, sharp angle still there from a shattered heart. And once on a very blue moon, you admit to yourself the truth; you can’t fix a broken heart. It’ll always be broken. Love has consequences.”

           She looked Marinette deep in the eyes, “The trick is learning to live with it. Learning that a broken heart doesn’t mean it doesn’t work.”

“Broken… but still good,” Marinette quoted Lilo and Stitch.

           Her grandmother beamed, “One of the hardest things is the world, sweetie, is to not let that broken heart stop you. You can cry. You can be angry. You can vengeance on the entire world. As long as you never let it stop you from living.”

“And loving?” Marinette asked. “You learned to love again.”

           There was a pause. A thoughtful look. And then a sigh, as Gina finally answered, “No, I never fell in love again. I could never trust the same as I did before. Never managed to figure out how to love with all of my heart like I used to when I was young. And it always felt wrong not you; but that’s just me. I learned to love myself, though. And that is the greatest thing you can ever learn. Love yourself.”

           Marinette had been nine-years-old at the time and hadn’t quite understood what her grandmother had been talking about. But she never forgot, the cold look on her grandmother’s face and the sorrow in her eyes.

           It was only years later, when the biggest liar to ever walk the planet proved that not all villains are easily defeated, when her friends had all turned their backs on her, when the boy who she swore she was going to marry someday was more of a cowardly frog than a prince, when even her parents bought the fabrication of Marinette being a bully, a thief, a jealous liar that Marinette finally understood. Because not only had her heart been broken, but it had been shattered.

           Marinette couldn’t even go to Fu as the man had used the last of his power in a fight against Hawkmoth because Chat Noir never showed up and Fu refused to give out Miraculous to people Marinette didn’t trust so the turtle had to fight. They had won but Marinette swore she’d never forgive Chat Noir for not showing up and costing a good man his life, and Marinette her mentor.

           Master Fu’s last act had to strip Chat Noir of his ring and name Marinette the new guardian. Before he faded, he warned Marinette that some people weren’t worth fighting for. Sometimes, a hero’s first priority has to be to save themselves.

           However, even then, Marinette had refused to give up. She kept trying to get her friends to listen, even when they made it clear they weren’t her friends anymore. Most didn’t reply to the texts anymore. And the ones that did, Alya mostly, ridiculed her; scorned Marinette’s very existence.

She tried to get Adrien to stand up and help her like he’d promised, only for him to ignore her calls, texts, and have Nathalie tell her that he didn’t want to be involved.

Despite the furious silent treatment from her mother and her father’s disappointed looks, Marinette still tried to convince them of her innocence. She had begged for them to listen to her, to trust that they raised her right, to believe her.  It was only after two weeks into her expulsion, when Marinette found luggage waiting by the door that Marinette understood. Nothing would change their minds.

They explained quickly that Marinette was going to be sent to live with her father’s godmother, one of his mother’s best friends. A good woman who promised to set Marinette straight. Or at least keep her out of trouble.

Marinette was on a plane an two hours later to a little old Kansas and then to a small town rightly called Smallville.

A kindly older blond man name Jonathan Kent had met her at the airport. Marinette had given him a polite, quiet, greeting and when mute for the rest of the ride to their farm. She hadn’t known what to expect. Feared the worst. Feared that they thought she was the bully her.

As soon as they arrived at the farm, a rather pretty greying redheaded woman walked out of her house with a mixing bowl in one hand and a sturdy wooden spoon in the other. Marinette steeled herself as she got out of the car. She raised her head up, “Bonjour, Madam.”

“Well, aren’t you the sweetest little thing,” The woman had greeted. “And I swear, you look just like your grandmother. It’s that spark in your eyes. Every time I saw it, I knew there was going to be trouble. Particularly, for the fools that messed with her. That’s how my cheating ex boyfriend’s dorm accidently caught on fire.”

           Marinette blinked once. Then twice. What?

“Accidently, Martha?” Jonathan chuckled as he got Marinette’s bags out of the car.

           Martha shot him a smile, “They could never prove otherwise.” She looked Marinette over, “Gina said your parents have their heads in a place sun just can’t seem to reach. Wanted to me to look after you. Get you away from all that drama. Get you with family. And the lord knows, that woman doesn’t know how to sit her butt anywhere long enough to leave an imprint. So come on inside, let’s get you unpacked and some food inside you.”

           Aunt Martha, as Marinette had been instructed to call her, had led her to an empty room that was just a bit bigger than the one she used to have and had a desk by a large window, a twin bed covered in a plaid blanket, and a few other standard amenities. Plus an old sewing machine on the desk. Marinette’s eyes lit up at the sight of it.

“Your grandma told me you like to design,” Aunt Martha smiled kindly. “I don’t use old Bertha myself anymore but I’d thought you’d like her. You can decorate your room anyway you’d like. Let me know if you need any help.”

           Marinette nodded and couldn’t stop herself from hugging the woman. She hadn’t been able to take much with her (Clothes, phone, laptop, a stuffed animal or two, the guardian box) but she made sure to bring all her sketch books and had just barely enough time and money to drop off a few boxes of her designing equipment and supplies at the local mail service carrier to be shipped to the farm in the upcoming weeks. The fear had been weighing on her of what ifs. What if it all got lost in the mail? What if Marinette couldn’t design anymore?

           Martha simply hugged her back, no probing questions. When Marinette let go, Martha said, “Now Kara and Conner’s rooms are either side of you. Conner’s mostly here on the weekends. Kara visits enough to still have room. They can be a… little nosy. But ignore it. My son, Clark, is visiting next week. They just can’t wait to meet you. I wouldn’t be surprised be any of them suddenly drops in.” She laughed, and it sounded a little like jingle bells.

           Then suddenly, Martha straightened up and gave Marinette a soft look, “You let me know if you need to talk or… Anything really.”

           Marinette felt her throat close up a bit and nodded stiffly.

“Dinner will be on the table soon.”

“May I help, Madam?” Marinette asked.

           Martha looked her over, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You can go ahead and get settled in.”

           Marinette blinked again. No one ever turned down her offer to help before. “I want to.” And so she did.

           Cooking with Aunting Martha was different that with her parents. While, she knew her parents loved to bake. It always felt like a job with them. One more responsibility Marinette had. Cooking with Aunt Martha was relaxing. They shared stories with each other and Marinette got more insight of her grandmother’s past than she ever had before. And even when it got silent, Marinette didn’t feel the need to fill it for once. And neither did Martha. It was nice.

           Eating dinner had been the same. Enjoyable and lovely with promises of teaching Marinette all about the farm. Uncle John laughing at wide-eyed Marinette reaction to idea of her milking a cow. It was a relief not to deal with her mother’s stony silence and her father’s blatant disapproval.

           Marinette knew from just one night that the Kents were good people and if she let herself, she could enjoy her time there. That didn’t stop Marinette from crying herself to sleep for a few nights.

           During her first week, Marinette didn’t hear a word from her parents. Or the second. Marinette knew they were more than likely waiting for her to make the first move like she always did.

           But unfortunately for them, Marinette was done. She was done with fake friends and disappointing crushes. She was done with being made out to be the bad guy. She was done always being the one to fix everything. Save everyone. Because she knew, without a doubt, that this time. Her first priority had to be save herself. Marinette had to fix herself. (Of course, Marinette still had to use the horse miraculous to go save Paris nearly every day but innocents needed her help.)

           So Marinette let herself be immersed in the smallville way of life. She helped out of the farm. She competed with Aunt Martha over who had the best pie recipe. Blinked in confusion when Martha wrapped a plate of Marinette’s special double chocolate salt caramel cookies to be delivered and muttered something about “Alfred finally getting his” and the Kent family reigning victorious. Marinette had just been happy to be considered family.

           Speaking of family, Marinette had become rather fond of her new “Cousins”. Jon was the youngest and reminded Marinette of a very hyperactive puppy. He constantly dragged Marinette away to play games and pretend. Connor was a bit sullen but had turned out to be a giant teddy bear once he opened up. He loved to talk about his friends; particularly someone named Tim. The beautiful blond Kara loved girl talk and arm wrestling Connor. She raved about Marinette’s designs and over her pictures with Jagged Stone. Clark, the oldest of her cousin, was a sweetheart; a geeky reporter who was married to a man named Bruce, worked mainly out of Metropolis, and had somewhere between five to seven kids. There was a lot of names and nicknames that left Marinette’s head spinning.

           None of them had taken kindly to Marinette’s story of how she ended up on the Kent farm. Wondering who could bully such a sweet angel?

           Though Marinette decided he wasn’t ever going to be her favorite after the blueberry scone incident.

           Over the next few months, Marinette learned what her grandmother had meant about letting herself be angry and getting some vengeance. Because was allowed to be angry. And she was allowed to get payback.

           After a rather nasty Akuma, Ladybug had taken the time to do an interview with Nadja. She had confirmed that Chat Noir was never returning, that the Ladyblog and its journalist had lost her trust forever after Ladybug had learned about the lies the blog was posting.

“What lies,” Nadja had asked, glad to finally stick it to the girl, Alya, who had been so mean to her honorary niece.

“Well for example, who the hell is Lila Rossi?” Ladybug asked when Nadja pulled up the website on the blue screen behind them. They scrolled through the website pointing out lies and inaccuracies. “That girl is not my best friend. I saved her from her own akuma save five times now. That’s it. I don’t know the girl. I don’t like the girl. What was written would only serve to put Lila in danger. And what’s this about Lila saving Jagged Stone’s cat? From a plane? Which airline was this? Who could be so careless?”

           Nadja nodded and looked quite stunned herself at what was on the blog. “I highly doubt Clara Nightingale stole Lila’s dance moves. Or strictly guarded Prince Ali invites random girls, even Ambassador’s daughter, to discuss his country go green intuitive. Or that she came up with the entire plan herself. This is just ridiculous! And what this about you curing Tinnitus?”

           Ladybug quickly shook her head, “That’s not possible. And it gives people false hope.”

“So Lila’s lying,” Nadja had to fight to keep the smugness out of her voice. She had told Sabine she was wrong. Had been absolutely furious that Marinette had been sent away. Some journalist should really learn Check Her Sources.” She said the last part with a smirk. “And what’s this about Gordon Ramsey?”

           It went on from there, with brief intervals so Marinette could recharge. Ladybug had blasted her former school, its’ principle, and her old teacher Bustier to shreds. For allowing bullying of students, victim blaming, and sheer negligence. Reciting how many times Ladybug had to deal with akuma from that school, particularly from Bustier’s class.

“I heard one poor girl even got expelled,” Ladybug shook her head. “From what I’ve heard, there was no investigation, just word of mouth, easily planted evidence, and then expulsion. I’m surprised I didn’t have to deal with her Akuma.” Ladybug’s sad tone was clear to hear. “I looked into the incident a bit. A rather brilliant Robot name Markov had been recording the room at the time.” Marinette nodded to the screen. “I had them blur the students faces for security reasons. The girl with the short hair is the victim in question.”

           The video played. And it was clear that a long haired girl had stolen the answer and planted them.

“I’m just sorry I couldn’t fix the issue,” Ladybug sighed. “By the time, I heard of it girl was been sent away by her parents. Not even they believed her.”

“I know the girl you’re speaking about,” Nadja frowned. “She’s stronger than she looks. Still, she deserved better. I swear to you that I’ll be leading the charge in investigating the wrongful expulsion.”

           Ladybug smiled.

           It took less than an hour after the interview to air for Marinette’s phone to start blowing up. Her ex-friends, her old classmates texted up a storm of apologies.

           The call from her parents had come in no longer after. Her father had full of apologies and swore to make it up to her. Her mother had been in tears.

           They were met with silence from Marinette. A forgive didn’t come. Marinette made it clear she still loved them but she was staying with the Kents. She would not be returning to Paris. It was her father’s turn to cry.

           Marinette would forgive them in time. But that wasn’t her priority was herself at the moment.

           While the Kents, Marinette was free to just be Marinette. Not anyone’s “Everyday Ladybug”. And was finding that she liked who she was.

           She liked designing clothes for Kara and dresses for Aunt Martha. Doing everything possible to get Clark out of plain. (She would be victorious!) She liked hanging out around town with Connor and being someone’s little sister, as he called her. Though she wouldn’t mind if he lost the overprotective streak. She wasn’t some damsel in destress. There was no more panic attacks. No more dealing with pushing best friends. No more waste time on crush on a blond loser.

           The only near heart attack she had was the blueberry scone incident. Marinette had gotten an akuma alert. She had yelled to Aunt Martha that she was going on a walk, hid behind the farm, transformed and portal’d away.

           Unfortunately, Uncle Clark had heard that Marinette had made her famous scones and had been FLYING overhead to the house at the time and had saw her.

           Uncle Clark had been waiting for her when she got back, with crossed arms and a stern look on his face. Before Marinette could open up her mouth to give a multitude of excuses, Clark held up one hand to silence her. Then he spun around faster than she’d ever seen anyone do before. And then Superman was standing in front of her.

           Marinette’s heart had stopped, she’d swear.

           After that they both de-transformed. Uncle Clark had led her inside where the entire Kent family was waiting.

           Turns out Uncle Clark was a tattletale. And he was never going to be her favorite.

“Snitch,” She told him simply before anyone could say anything.

           Clark blushed a little but shrugged.

           After that everyone introduced themselves. Or rather their superhero identities. Each taking turns to tell their story. Marinette had shed a few tears about the loss of Krypton. Marinette had introduce the Kwamis’ to the Kents. Jon had let out a squeal of joy at the sight flying creatures.

           Aunt Martha had only laughed when Plagg flew up to her face and said, “Cheese.”

           Marinette told her story from when she first got Tikki to then. There was no happy faces in the room.”

“You’re a superhero?” Kara was the first to burst out. “Ladybug the Parisian hero.”

“You work an entire city?” Connor asked. “I’m now even allowed to do that yet.” He shot quick glare at Clark. “Even the Teen Titans has league supervision.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, “The Justice League doesn’t usually tread on other heroes’ territory. Ladybug had always managed well.” He then gave her a look. “However, we were unaware that Ladybug was a teenager. I think its time we took a closer look at Paris.

[a-singleboat]

Virtual Reality

Word Count: 2.4k

Request: hi! if your taking requests, i was wondering if you could write a damien x reader, where they meet through Twitch? add anything else you want i always love everything you write, thanks so much!! - anon

Warning(s): like, one swear

It was a Thursday night when you first met him, or rather, heard of him. You had been streaming for five hours heading into your sixth when you decided it might be time for you to log off for the night. As per usual, you took at least thirty minutes at the end of your stream just to talk with your viewers, usually about how their lives were going in exchange for a story from your own day. 

Tonight, however, there was an influx of people asking if you’d ever heard of a streamer by the name of Damien Haas, which you hadn’t, and if you would do a collaboration with the man anytime soon. Apparently, your content was eerily similar and you were, and I quote, “Practically the female version of him, looks aside.” 

“Damien Haas…” you rolled yourself back closer to your desk, hands settled on your keyboard. You typed his name into the search bar, patiently waiting for Twitch to pull up his account. You clicked into the first one, making an impressed face at the purple checkmark next to his name. You squinted at the screen. “Is this him? In the profile picture with the LEDs in the background?” 

You glanced at your chat, chuckling as the viewers started spamming ‘yes’ and ‘oh my god it’s happening,’ and your personal favorite, ‘mom come pick me up the best crossover of 2020 is happening and im SCARED.’

“He plays a lot of Animal Crossing,” you observed, clicking on one of his videos and dragging the tab onto your main monitor so the stream could see it. You skipped through the beginning part, biting into a pretzel as you watched. 

“He’s kinda cute,” you commented, laughing as your stream freaked out once more. There were a few people commenting what looked like it could be a ship name though you ignored it. “Shame I’d never meet him, though.”

You paused his video, taking note of the time, before rolling out your shoulders. “I think it’s time for me to head out so I’m gonna end this stream with a huge thank you to you all for sticking with me through this entire stream and if you didn’t stay the entire time, I’m glad you decided to join in on the ride even halfway through. I’ll see you guys next time.”

You ended the stream, waving goodbye to your viewers before the light went out and you could relax the smile off your face. Don’t get it twisted, you loved streaming and you loved your viewers but just like any other job, it could get exhausting at times. You shut down your monitors, the screens turning blue before fading to black. You stretched, taking your phone up from its charger and launching yourself into bed, opening your phone and clicking on Twitter. 

Much like staying thirty minutes after you were done streaming to talk to viewers, you usually went on Twitter right after to answer questions and respond to DMs. This time, however, instead of opening the app to see a bunch of post-stream questions, your mentions were filled with the video clip of you saying, “He’s kinda cute,” as well as maybe a million people tagging both you and Damien in them. 

Well, shit. 

Soon enough, that was all that filled your timeline. You couldn’t move in one direction without running into another screencap of you admiring the man. God, you knew the consequences but something in the back of your mind was urging you to reach out to him.

After a few moments of contemplation, the lonely side of you won out, forcing you to message him against your better judgment. Without even thinking about it, you found his Twitter and sent this message:

Hey, I’m sorry about your mentions blowing up because of me tonight. My viewers recommended your Twitch to me and I spoke without thinking about it on Live. 

And with no expectation of his response, you fell asleep right there with your phone on your chest and the DM still open. 

You woke up the next morning with a sore neck and a dead phone, which was a terrible way to start your day. You rolled over, plugging your device into an outlet before crawling out of bed to start your day. When you weren’t streaming, you worked as a freelance editor for different YouTubers, helping their editors with their workload or even staying on as a Temp for different companies. Occasionally you edited the odd commercial here and there, but those gigs were rare. 

Most recently, you had received some material from a group of YouTubers, Smosh. This job was different, however, because if you did well on this you could be looking at a permanent place of employment through their parent company, Mythical Entertainment. 

You knew Mythical Entertainment, it was hard not to, especially since your aunt was one of the producers within the company, but tended to ignore everything the company did. The last you’d heard, they’d onboarded another YouTube group (which you did later find out to be Smosh, the same YouTubers whose video you were hired to edit). 

 After a quick shower and a half-assed attempt at a proper breakfast, you were ready to start your day. You situated yourself behind your monitors, opening the video clips that had been sent to you. The first was a sample video, something that gave you insight on what their editing style was actually like. 

But imagine your surprise when you’re staring down the same man you have called cute the night before, his approximately five-eleven stance taking up one-sixth of the space. He was standing next to a blond, who had been marked as “Shayne Topp.”

Despite there being five other people in frame, your eyes kept moving back to Damien’s figure, watching his mannerisms through the screen and laughing along to his jokes when they fell upon deaf ears. 

Your eyes slid over to your phone, now decently charged after sitting for so long. On your screen were dozens of notifications. There were maybe two from your mom, asking if you’d be coming home for dinner sometime that week but the majority came from Twitter. You picked up the device, unlocking and responding to your mom with a, “yes,” before opening Twitter. 

Nothing much had changed from the night prior. Your mentions were still being flooded with the video from last night but newer content had been ushered in, namely fan edits using footage from your streams and, you assumed, his. 

The only major difference, however, was the fact that Damien had responded to your DM from the night prior. The first message read: 

It’s really no problem! My stream had mentioned your name before, too.

Followed by the second:

P.S. I think you’re cute, too.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Mr. Damien Haas, the man that you had made a thoughtless comment on stream about, also thought that you were cute. Suddenly, the fact that you had been staring at him for the past hour seemed less stalkerish and more like a blooming crush. You wrote back:

Aw, thanks! Have you seen the newer fan edits? They’re all so talented.

You cringed at yourself. A cute boy started talking to you and you’ve suddenly forgotten how to be suave, not that you really were in the first place. But still, you liked to think you had some tact when talking to people that you found attractive. 

Not even a moment later, there came a response. 

Yes, I have, he responded. And I agree! They are all very talented individuals. 

You looked from the monitor in front of you. You had about a quarter of the footage left to go through before you could start editing but this technically wasn’t due until the following night. Feeling emboldened by the fact that he had actually responded, you replied:

Are you going to TwitchCon on Friday? We should meet up or something. 

Anxiously you awaited his response, taking his silence as an opportunity to watch a bit more of the footage and take down notes according to the sample they’d given you. Roughly thirty minutes later is when the next response came in, reading as an affirmative to both questions. 

You didn’t respond, choosing to leave your social media for after you’d finished editing the video. Your heart still pounded, however. Just the thought that there was a possibility for the two of you to meet was, simply put, insane. You’d just heard of the guy the night before and decided that he was going to be your latest hyperfixation. 

But who could blame you? He was a nice, funny guy that showed the slightest bit of attraction towards you. It didn’t help that you were a sucker for guys that were nice to you. 

Fast forward to the Friday of TwitchCon, also known as the first day of TwitchCon. You and Damien had been talking steadily over Twitter DMs and just last night you had gained his phone number, giving you even more access to the man than you had before. But of course, who were you if you didn’t tease your fans with the prospect of you meeting. 

The night before, at the end of your stream, you’d given your fans the little tidbit of information that you and Damien were, in fact, planning on meeting up sometime during TwitchCon and would be greeting fans together for an hour at your booth. 

That sent Twitter into a frenzy, both of your combined fans getting your ship name to trend within the hour, which confused the hell out of a bunch of locals. 

It was nearing the time you and Damien had set to meet up. The plan was you’d meet around twelve for lunch, take an hour for yourselves, before going back to your booth and meeting with fans for an hour or so as promised. 

You had never been more nervous than you were in that moment. Not only were you about to meet your three-day-old crush but apparently a very popular YouTuber. You tried not to let the thought mess with your head. One of your friends, Wilbur Soot (who you played Minecraft with from time to time) was poking fun at you for being nervous about meeting a popular YouTuber. 

After three years of streaming and gaining a solid following, you’d think you’d be used to meeting other popular content creators. But because it was him, you found yourself unable to think straight. 

“What if I fuck up?” you asked Wilbur anxiously. He’d flown in from London for this event at your insistence and because you’d offered to pay half his airfare to get there and back. He didn’t have his own booth as his arrival was very last minute, but he didn’t mind. He signed the occasional poster though his main purpose was to provide you mental and emotional support. 

“You won’t fuck up,” he comforted, leafing through one of the comics a fan had given you. The entire thing was hand-drawn, which was an insane fact in itself. It looked professional, which was what blew you away when you’d received it. “Well, you won’t fuck up as badly as you did when you first met Schlatt.”

You groaned in embarrassment. “Don’t remind me.”

Long story short, you’d dumped a red in color slushy on the man accidentally after tripping over an unmarked cable. It really wasn’t your fault but the boys hadn’t let you live it down since then. 

Half a moment later, Wilbur was poking your side. “Is that him?” he asked, jabbing his pointer finger into your side while looking in the opposite direction. He was looking at a familiar figure walking down the hallway toward your booth. He stopped for a moment to take a photo with a fan, talking to them about something, before continuing on his way toward you. 

Your eyes locked and you gave him a smile while trying to beat Wilbur into no longer poking you. He stopped when you slapped his arm the first time, sticking his tongue at you before going on his phone. You rolled your eyes at his half-assed attempt of pretending he wasn’t about to start listening in on your conversation. 

“Hey, Y/n, right?” Damien asked as he approached. You nodded, reaching out for a handshake but becoming pleasantly surprised when he instead pulled you in for a hug. 

“You ready for lunch?” you asked glaring slightly at Wilbur as he made kissy faces over Damien’s shoulder. Luckily, Damien hadn’t noticed your moron of a best friend. 

“Yeah, I saw this sushi place on the way in if you wanted to try that?”

“I’d be down,” you agreed, reaching behind your table to grab your bag. Wilbur was set to meet with a few other Minecraft streamers, meaning you didn’t have to worry about him while you had lunch. You looked over your shoulder, making sure everything was set for you to leave before saying goodbye to Wilbur. 

Over the course of lunch, you and Damien had gotten to know each other pretty well. Once the conversation moved away from your fans and, well, work, and more into personal details, you found that you actually weren’t all that similar. For starters, Damien loved watching anime while your guilty pleasure was Gilmore Girls. The one show you both had a love for, however, was Avatar the Last Airbender, which made sense. 

Another thing was that he actually enjoyed being in front of the camera while you tolerated it on most days, really only putting on your face cam for the last thirty minutes on most days. Despite that, he still classified himself as an introvert. 

You returned back to your booth much later than you anticipated, thoroughly shocked at the line that had formed with Wilbur at the front of it, entertaining the fans that had shown up early to meet both you and Damien. 

“Y/n!” one fan called, pointing in your direction. Immediately, the entire line turned and gaped at the sight of you and Damien walking together. You greeted them happily, stopping for pictures and verbally promising that you’d stay until you got to meet everyone personally. 

“You really love your fans,” Damien observed as you put your things back down behind the table. Wilbur had set up shop on your right side, chatting with a few people at the front of the line. 

“I wouldn’t be anywhere without them,” you admitted, pulling a silver sharpie from your bag. You handed a gold one to Damien. “I also wouldn’t have gotten to meet you without them, which I’m still sorry about, by the way. Your feed must have been chaotic.”

“You have no idea,” he chuckled. “But everything happens for a reason.”

You nodded, grinning up at him. “Yes, they do.” 

Permanent

@beautiful-holland @toms-order @starlightfound @grandmascottlang @positiveparker @bippity-boppity-boopa @caswinchester2000 @andreasworlsboring101 @imladylunaticbitch​

[secretkeeper13]

Flirt- bonus chapter

I was overwhelmed by the positive response to this story! Thank you so much to everyone who took the time to read and leave such lovely comments.  I truly appreciate it! 

As soon as I finished writing this fic, I wanted to write Harry’s reaction to hearing the story of poor Criag’s misadventures in trying to flirt with Ginny.  I hope you enjoy this bit of (very dialogue heavy) fluff as much as I enjoyed writing it.  Bonus chapter also on Ao3! 

He flopped onto the bed, completely exhausted from the day. Well, really, from James, who was now (thankfully) sleeping in his cot after a mildly disastrous bath time in which he’d managed to get soapy water all over Harry’s shirt, trousers, and the entire bathroom floor, causing Harry to slip in his haste to grab his wand to do a drying charm. And then bedtime, when James climbed out of his cot three times before finally, blissfully falling asleep.  

In the stillness, he heard the door to the study close softly, the creak of the stairs, and footsteps approaching the doorway of their bedroom. He looked up as she crossed the room and sat on the other side of their bed.

“James wear you out today?” she asked, with a knowing smile.

“Yes, I’m exhausted,” he groaned. “I feel like I’ve been through one of Oliver Wood’s training sessions. I don’t know how you do it, honestly.”

She grinned. “You chase dark wizards for a living, but five hours alone with our toddler did you in?”

He smiled sheepishly. “It isn’t like when he was a baby, and you could turn your back for a second to do something and he’d still be in the same place. He’s so bloody fast now. I told you about the incident with the toilet. Not to mention the climbing- I pulled him off the third shelf in the scullery not a half hour after you left!”

She laughed. “He probably just wanted a biscuit. Caught him at it last week, found him on the second shelf holding the biscuit tin. I moved it up higher, but I guess that didn’t work.”

Harry shook his head. “How do you even use the loo? I was afraid to leave him alone for a second.”

She laughed again. “I haven’t used the loo alone during the day for the past couple weeks.”

“He’s not a baby anymore, really,” he said wistfully, thinking of their once tiny newborn, who was now saying words, toddling about, and causing all sorts of mischief.

“No, he isn’t.”

Harry sighed. “Did you get your article finished?”

“Yes, all done and sent to my editor in time for tomorrow’s paper. It practically wrote itself thanks to the Magpie’s seeker. Not every day someone catches the snitch in under a half hour in his first game.”  

“I can’t wait to read it.”

She smiled at him.  “Thanks for bringing James up to Hogsmeade after. I’m glad we got to see Neville.”

“Me too,” he said, and then he grinned up at her. “Speaking of, now do I get to hear the story of how a bloke fresh out of Hogwarts ended up buying you a drink?”

She laughed. “I knew you’d ask again.”

He’d asked as soon as they’d walked away from the bar, of course, his curiosity getting the better of him, as always.  But she’d simply raised an eyebrow and mouthed, “Later” in response to his murmured, “What was that?”

“Well?”

“Hmmm, you’re very interested in this story,” she teased, running her hand lightly down his chest and sliding closer to him on the bed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous of my new friend Craig.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Hardly. The poor boy looked like he wanted to die. I just want to know what you did to him.”

“And why do you think I’m responsible?” she said feigning innocence, giving him that wide-eyed, playful look that still made his heart beat faster.

“Well, I’d like to think I know you pretty well after nearly a decade of being with you,” he replied dryly.

She laughed. “Alright. Well, if you must know, I was at the bar, minding my own, when my new friend came up and introduced himself to me,” she said, her eyes glinting with mischief.

“That’s bold.” He looked at her shrewdly. “And did you introduce yourself to him?”

She smirked. “I told him it was a pleasure to meet him.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “I knew it.”

“What, I should’ve said, ‘Hello Craig, I’m Ginny Potter; yes, the one married to Harry Potter. Oh, he’ll be here momentarily. Yes, please make a scene and ask for a photo so the whole pub is in a frenzy by the time he arrives with our son’?”

“Alright, you’ve made your point,” he said, chuckling harder.

“Anyhow, it was clear he didn’t recognize me, so I decided to just... let it play out. Be a good sport, but not encourage him too much. And if I got a little amusement from it along the way, well, that was just a bonus.”

“How were you sure he didn’t recognize you?” he said, thinking darkly of all the unwelcome advances he’d fielded over the years, despite the entire wizarding world’s knowledge of he and Ginny’s relationship.

She snorted. “Harry, he asked me, very earnestly, if I followed Quidditch, and then followed that up by asking which team I supported.”

He cringed, but laughed. “Merlin. Poor bloke.”

 “That’s not even the best part.”

“No?”

“Oh no,” she said, her tone becoming increasingly dramatic (a trait which he found adorable and endearing). “The best part was when he unknowingly was slagging off Percy to me.”

“Come again?” Harry spluttered.

“I’d love to later, but I’d like to finish my story now, thank you.”

“Gin.” He was laughing so hard his shoulders were shaking. “You know, one day, that joke won’t be funny anymore.”

“And yet, you’re still laughing.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Percy?”

“Right, so after I mentioned that I’d recently had a career change, he told me all about his friend, who apparently took a job right out of Hogwarts in the Ministry in the Transportation Department. And his boss, the Deputy Head was, and I quote, ‘a real stickler,’ who was impossible to work for so much so that he changed jobs.”

He laughed in earnest. “And what did you say?”

“I told him I knew the type.”

Harry roared with laughter. “How did you keep a straight face?” he gasped.

“With great difficulty. So, then the barmaid showed up, and he offered to buy me a drink. I tried to politely decline, but he insisted, and the barmaid was getting annoyed, so I just went with it. I started to let him down gently after that, but then you showed up with James before I could tell him.”

“Poor Craig,” he said, shaking his head, still chuckling.

“He was very sweet.”

“I’m glad you bought him a round, the kid deserved it after that.”

“Oh, you’re team Craig, are you?”

He laughed. “Yes. I hope he finds a girl his own age though, instead of chatting up my wife.”

She took his hand and then paused for a moment, playing with their intertwined fingers. She looked down at him through her lashes.

“You know,” she said, her tone softer and more thoughtful. “It was refreshing, honestly. I don’t think someone who didn’t already know who I was has approached me in years. And it was flattering. I mean, he thought I was his age.”

Harry swallowed. He hated that being with him made her life harder. He hated that she’d had to give up any semblance of ever having a private life or anonymity by marrying him. As if she knew what he was thinking (and she probably did, he thought), she reached down and gently stroked his cheek. He closed his eyes at her touch, and when he opened them again, he spoke.

“I’m not sure why you’re surprised a bloke would want to chat you up. You’re beautiful, Gin, in more ways than one.”

She leaned down and gave him a swift kiss, then sat back up, and smiled at him, still holding his hand.

“It made my day, really. To feel like I’ve got it back after being pregnant and having James.”

“You can’t get back something you never lost.”

She beamed at him and shook her head. “Harry Potter. That was a line.”

“Well, I’ve got to keep up with Craig.”

She laughed, then leaned down to kiss him again. He deepened the kiss, pulling her on top of him and running his hands through her long, silky hair.

After a moment, she pulled back and reached for the hem of her shirt. “You sure you aren’t too tired for this?” she teased.

“I may not be eighteen anymore like your new friend, but I’ll manage, trust me,” he said, looking up at her, his eyes dark.

“Well, I’m glad you aren’t eighteen anymore,” she said as she pulled her shirt over her head and he groaned appreciatively. “Because this will last a lot longer then.”

He laughed, and that was the last either of them thought of Craig that evening.

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

Chapter 3 - Unexpected texts

Synopsys: The name of the series is super random, don't mind me. Reader is a postgraduate student at NYU, made a docuseries on her research, and the show got picked up by Netflix. She goes on a press tour and meets Tom on a ‘chat show’. They get together and she decides to stay for a few days in London with him. This could be an amazing few days or more? It’s been interesting writing how they’ll deal with distance and tight schedules once ‘honeymoon’ is over...

Heads up: my first language is Portuguese, so that might explain some things here - of course, I wrote thinking about myself hahaha

Warnings for the series: mention of illicit drugs, angst caused by distance, smut (next chapters, very explicit), anxiety caused by paparazzi, and rude random people taking photos.

Other than that, this is just my guilty pleasure writing so lots of caring sweet Tom and fluffiness.

Chapter 1 - A new city

Chapter 2 - Show time

Chapter 3 - Unexpected texts

This is 2.4k words (approximately)

Later, you were just laying in your hotel room and watching some tv, or telly how they say over here. You wanted to get some sleep and maybe call your parents to tell them about the day. It was so crazy, you didn’t think they’d quite grasp how crazy, but you wanted to include them anyway. I guess maybe especially because of that. Tomorrow you guys had to be at the station super early for the Radio 1 Breakfast with Greg James. 6 o’clock you thought it was that David had told you. You might as well check with him and set an alarm already. So you went to grab you phone for texting him and got a text from an unknown number.

The contact you had saved as “Tom Holland” (with the air quote marks) was calling on Facetime. Shit. This couldn’t be him. Could it? Have you even given your personal number to the producer at Graham? Shit. Just answer it and kill Lukas. You pressed the green button and the screen was dark. There was some music in the background, but it was a little muffled. And sure enough, there he was. Smiling at the phone slightly bellow his eye level. He’s hot. You look like shit with zero makeup and your hair in a crazy pony tail.

“Hi!” He said laughing. “Do you believe me now?”

“Hi…this is embarrassing. Sorry! I have the worst friends and is just like them to try to pull a prank on me because of this” You answered.

“No worries, darling. I’m a little sad you’d think me texting you is laughable though.” He joked.

“You know what I mean! Like I said, Tom Hanks wanting to work together I would have an easier time believing.” You laughed.

“Maybe I want to work together. By the way, I’m glad you did, but for future reference, you probably shouldn’t use your personal number for these things.” He advised you.

“Well, it’s not like I have more than one number so…” You told him.

“Your agent’s then.” He clarified.

“I don’t have an ‘agent’.” You emphasized the last word.

“Well, you should probably get one then, darling. Trust me on this one.” He was walking and the music got louder for an instant and then muffled again. Looks like a bar or the outside of a bar at least.

“Are you in a bar?” You asked him laughing.

“Excuse me, not a bar, a PUB. And no, I’m on the sidewalk of a pub, actually. Going home.” He said. “And you are…?”

You were kind of getting what he wanted from you and that was kind of annoying actually. He’s a movie star for god’s sake. Can’t he get a girl in whatever pub he’s at right now? “Busy actually.” You answered him.

“Oh sorry. Terrible timing, huh? I asked for your number this afternoon, after the show. But the bloody PA just sent me it right now. He might lose his job for this. Took him a lot of convincing, ya know?” He was talking and walking, you could see he was clearly trying to start a conversation and all that in the middle of the street.

“So you just got it and couldn’t wait to text me huh?” You teased.

“Kind of, yeah. The two pints probably helped me build the nerve. I’m not usually like this. I barely facetime my friends.” He told you.

“And in the middle of the street. If you get mugged, I don’t want to be accounted.” You were relaxing a bit and sat on the bed leaning on the headboard. He laughed at your joke. Maybe he was just drunk and not really after a booty call. “I thought you british were famous for spending nights at the pub. Why you leaving so early, anyway?” You asked.

“Got to get up early tomorrow for a work out.” He answered simply.

“Of course you do” You said.

“And I much rather talk to you too.” He said.

Silence. What do you answer to that? Is he flirting with you? He’s definitely flirting with you.

“Ahem” He cleared his throat. “I really did liked your show, you know? It’s really something.” He said.

“You did? Thank you. Means a lot.” You said. “I’m still shocked it’s getting this much attention, to be honest.”

“Why? I’m shocked no one’s done it before. Is such a good idea. But maybe if they’ve done it, it wouldn’t be the same. Cause your presenting is probably what makes it that good.” He had stopped walking and you could hear keys juggling in his hand. “I live really close to the pub. I know” He laughed and you laughed back. “Hey!” He said to someone outside the screen and started to walk up stairs.

“Do you live with someone else? Your parents?” You asked.

“Uhh…no, no. I mean yeah, my mates Harrison and Tuwaine and my brother Harry. It’s just Tuwaine and his girlfriend downstairs though, I think.” He told you while taking off his shoes.

“Hey don’t go cockblock your friend now” You laughed.

“Never. And always.” He joked back. “Thought you’d be out enjoying London tonight, or were you planning on going out later?” He asked you in a thick accent.

“What? No, I’m a serious business girl. No time for shenanigans” You said laughing, so he’d know you were joking.

“Shenanigans” He laughed back. “Your English is better than mine you know?”

“Oh I’m sure” You answered sarcastically. “Flattering will get you far, but lying will not”

“I’m serious. If you haven’t said it today I’d think you’re American. You kind of have a New Yorker accent” He said.

“Yeah? ‘Fuhgeddaboudit’” You said in a thick accent and you laughed together. It was fun talking to him.

“What other languages do you speak?” He asked you when you stopped laughing.

“Portuguese, English…Spanish, Italian, a little bit, and German” You answered while counting your fingers.

“No way. Say something in German. By the way, I’m still here, I’ll just change these clothes.” He said while putting the phone on the nightstand and getting out of the frame. He was taking off his clothes, you thought. And he wanted you to say something in German.

“Nennen sie das Ärger?” You said, without thinking everything through.

“Now say the same in Portuguese” You heard his voice but didn’t see him.

“É isso que eles chamam de problema?” You said again.

“Yeah, portuguese is defenitely sexier.” He laughed and grabbed the phone again to sit on the bed. He was shirtless and with his head on the headboard of the bed. “What did you said anyway?”

“Excuse me, I wasn’t aware I’d have to translate it.” You mocked being offended.

“Oh so it WAS dirty. I thought I was imagining.” He teased you.

“You’re smooth.” You shook your head. “I’m still not saying it. You’ll just have to learn Portuguese, or German.”

“I’ll learn Portuguese if you teach me.” He said. “How long are you here for?”

“Just till tomorrow.” You said. “Flying back to New York tomorrow night.”

“More interviews?” He asked.

“Tomorrow’s the last one actually. But I’m traveling with David, he makes the show with me, and I’ve kept him from his fiancé long enough. That and we have to prepare for big meeting with executives next week, you know find an agent and stuff.”

“I could talk to my agent if you want to, he’s an actors agent but maybe he knows someone for other kinds of jobs” He said. “You don’t have a fiancé to get back to, do you?”

“No. No fiancé or jobs for that matter.” You laughed. “And I’m not even sure what kind of jobs would those be.”

“Publicity deals. If I had a brand, I’d want you to be the face of it. It’s the face of diversity and youth, isn’t it? It’s a beautiful face” He said.

“The face of diversity and youth?” You laughed. “Now you’re the one confusing me with Tom Hanks” You joked and he laughed out loud. “I could use some friendly recommendation though, on the agent thing. I don’t even know where to start looking and sounds like the type of thing you don’t want to ask the wrong people” You added.

“Yeah, sure. He’ll know someone for sure.”

“Thank you”

“Glad to help! Really!” He smiled at you. “So where you going tomorrow?”

“Breakfast show at Radio 1. Greg James I think” You answered.

“Oh he’s great! We were there today. You’ll have a great time! It’s a bit early, no? Am I keeping you from sleep? Do you want to hang up?” He was cute, all concern and stuff.

“Yes, yes and no. I’m enjoying you keeping me from sleep.” You said. Maybe it was the time, but that was kind of bold Ana. Good job?

“Good. I’m enjoying it too.” He said while you were getting under the duvet, getting cozy. “Are you enjoying London? What’s your favorite place so far?”

“I loved what I’ve seen from the car window” You answered sadly. “And all the studios we’ve seen.” You laughed a little. “But since we’ve landed it’s been go go go.”

“That’s a great song though.”

“I can’t believe you got that reference.” You said surprised. You love The Maine.

“I love The Maine. Honest. ‘Where I come from you learn to make the best of things’”

“‘But honey since we’ve met you know you’ve had the best of me’” You mock singed together and laughed when you finished the verse.

“OH MY GOD DO YOU WANT TO MARRY ME?” He joked while laughing.

“YES! AND WE CAN GET ON THE ROAD CHASING INDIE BANDS ON TOUR?” You joked back.

“I mean, that’s the dream, that’s the dream.” He said. “I can’t believe that you haven’t seen London though. Wish you’d stay longer, I could take you some places. If you’d like, of course” He said.

“Don’t you have work? I though movie stars didn’t have time for tourism in their own home town” You teased.

“I’m sure movie stars don’t. Good thing I’m not one.” He said smirking.

“Ok, and where would you take me then?” You asked. Where you really contemplating extending your trip just right now? Get a grip on yourself woman.

“Uh, I don’t know. Parks?”

“Parks?” You laughed.

“And pubs.” He laughed too. “To be honest those are the only places I go to when I’m home. I take my dog on walks and drink with friends.”

“Doesn’t sound like a bad life to me.”

“No, I guess not.”

You guys kept talking for hours about everything and nothing. Favorite music, food, drinks, spots for each of those in different cities. You lived in NY but had lived in Berlin before and he was interested in that and you were very interested to hear about the places he’d been, but mostly about London.

“So you actually live here?” You asked him.

“What you mean? London? Yeah.”

“But don’t you work more in LA and stuff? You have a place there too?”

“Uh, no, actually. I don’t work there as much. No as much to justify getting a place anyway. If I’m honest, I haven’t stayed in the same place for too much time, unless I’m off work. And then I’ll be here. Closer to the family. Friends. You know.” He told you.

“That’s nice. It sucks to be away all the time”

“You probably know what I mean. There was a time I was considering getting a place in LA, you know, that whole Hollywood thing. And I was kind of seeing someone there at the time, so that might have had some influence in the decision. We were looking at houses and they were amazing, huge and crazily luxurious.”

“You were going to move in together?”

“No, she was just helping me look for places. Anyway, it didn’t worked out and in the mean time I found this house here so it was for the better I think.” He was opening up to you. “That’s really not for me. That whole life. Mansions, cars, the paparazzi.”

“Listen, I’m not sure how to break it to you. But you might not have chosen the best work line then.” You joked.

“No joke” He laughed. “I know it’s part of the job. At some extent. But I don’t need to go looking for trouble too. This way I’ll just deal with all that when I’m at the states and here I can focus on something else. Spend that money with something else. Spend my time with people that I actually care about and care about me. You know?”

“I like your mind” You said without thinking and there was a while of silence between the two of you.

“I think that’s the best compliment I ever gotten” He said.

“Shut up. You know what I mean.” You blushed.

“I know. And that’s why.” He smiled. “I like your mind too. I like that you don’t filter it. You’re genuine” You had blushed and closed your eyes at his compliment. When you opened them he was smiling at you. “You have the most amazing green eyes, you know that? They’re beautiful. And smile too. I love your smile.” You turned your head to the side, like you didn’t understand what he was saying, but you did. You were only studying him.

“Where you getting at Holland?”

“Can I see you tomorrow? Will you have sometime after your interview?” He asked.

“Yeah. I have the day actually, my flight is not until 11 at night, I think. When you want to meet?”

“I can pick you up right after and we can grab some lunch, sounds good?”

“Yeah, sounds perfect” You said and looked at the clock, it was 02:38 in the morning. “But I should probably try and get some sleep now, or I won’t be a real person tomorrow.” He touched the screen on his phone, probably looking at time himself.

“Shit, that’s late. Sorry, I didn’t felt the time” He apologized.

“Me neither” You smiled. You wanted to say more, like how amazing it was talking to him and that’s why time flew like that, how you haven’t felt that in many years. But you didn’t.

“Okay, I’ll let you go now. See you tomorrow then?”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow Holland” He laughed. “What?”

“I like how you call me by my last name. Sounds good. See you tomorrow (y/l/n)”

“I liked how mine sounded in your English accent”

“Yeah? Did I pronounce it right?” He laughed.

“Close enough” You laughed. “Alright, good-bye now”

“Tchau” He said while you hanged up, catching you by surprise.

You couldn’t believe what just happened. Oh boy indeed. You were sure you weren’t even going to be able to sleep tonight, smiling in the dark to yourself like that. Get a grip woman.

[yiddyahara]

The Merchant Ace :: Liang Tao

Okay so I made a Genshin Impact oc, the images were made on picrew because I can’t draw but I am commissioning my friend after Christmas for art of him!

——————————————————

BASIC INFORMATION

Name: Liang Tao

Age: 23

Height: 5’4 / 162 cm

Birthday: April 21st

Rarity: 4*

Weapon: Bow

Element: Cryo

Focus: DPS

Constellation: Vulpecula

Home Region: Liyue

Afilliation: Qixing

——————————————————

“I doubt that the strongest in the room could escape my arrows. Would you like to try your luck?” - Liang Tao, The Ice Prince of Liyue Harbor

——————————————————

INFORMATION

Liang Tao is a new government official in Liyue, having taken over management of sea trade and ports in the district. He works under Ningguang, and helps to keep the contracts with neighbouring domains firm.

After studying with several merchants for most of his teen years, Tao managed to secure a place amongst many who sought out a place in the higher courts — the Qixing. After much deliberation, the man was inducted into the Qixing and worked as a student under Ningguang.

His childhood was not a happy one, with his parents being murdered when he was just a small baby. However, he was quickly found by a poor fish merchant who happened to be passing by the area, who took the child home and raised him as his own. This was beneficial to the merchant, who’s name was Liang Xue, because his wife could not bear children.

Tao is very loyal to Ningguang and the Qixing, however he will do anything to secure his own personal benefits, even betraying the Qixing if it was the only reasonable solution. However, there is an agreement with Ningguang and Keqing that allows this betrayal, should it ever come to that.

Tao’s personality is very closed off, having shared very little about himself. He demands mutual respect from those he works with, but is kind in his own way to his subordinates and fellow Qixing members. He knows that the work they do is stressful, and understands when things go awry. However, he sometimes does not know when to stop speaking, having offended many with his blunt words.

Having run the fishing ports and sea trade business, Tao has had several run ins with Beidou, who treats him like a little brother. He appreciates this, and often shares a drink when she is in town.

——————————————————

ATTACK LIST

Normal Attack: Stealth Arrow

The arrows are much quieter than other bow users, allowing him to slip the first shot without enemies noticing.

Ice Attack: Charging Ice

A charged shot that takes 25% of the targets health. Can also be used on objects to freeze them in place. Pairs well with hydro attacks for increased damage.

Ice Attack: Flurry

Tao can rapid fire 3 arrows within 10 seconds. These are pre charged shots that do up to 15% enemy damage, higher if weapon level is higher.

Cool down: 20 seconds

Special Attack: Summoner’s Rage

Tao can summon up to 15 ice arrows and sent them directly at a single target from his location. Has a distance limit of 10 ft, meaning he has to be semi close to his target for it to work.

Cool down: 45 seconds

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MISSIONS & QUESTS

Story Quests:

The Ice Prince of Liyue Harbour

Ningguang asks you to check in on one of the Qixing, but he is less than willing to cooperate. Can you break through his cold exterior and follow Ningguang’s request?

World Quests:

Those Who Fall Under

Tao asks you to investigate several unknown cargo ships off the coast of Liyue Harbour, worried they might have less than friendly intentions. What are they here for…?

Lost Packages

It seems like Tao’s employees have managed to drop several of his important documents on the way from a meeting in Mondstadt. Do you think you could find them and bring them back for him?

——————————————————

INCORRECT QUOTES

“No, you may NOT use me as your wallet. Do I look like Childe?” - Tao to Zhongli

“If you committed a crime, Felt, I will hang you from the rafters. Unless they were my enemy, then, good job.” - Tao to Felt

“You may be pardoned by the Qixing, but are you pardoned in the eyes of the Archons?”

“For the last time, I do NOT need a step ladder!” - Tao when someone makes fun of his height.

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VOICE LINES

Hello...

My name is Liang Tao. Pleased to make your acquaintance, send all complaints direct to the Qixing.

Good morning...

Are you ready for the day to begin?

Good afternoon...

Ah, I think it must be time for afternoon tea with Lady Ningguang.

Good evening...

Care to watch the sunset with me?

Good night...

Don’t get lost on the way home. That would make too much paperwork for me.

Chat - Relax

I wonder if Felt will let me work in peace for a while...

About Tao...

No, the rumours of me being married are not true. Liyue just likes gossip.

About the Vision...

Many have been blessed with a Vision, however many can survive without it. Is it really necessary to put Vision wielders on a pedestal?

Anything to share...

My height is not a problem for me, I manage just fine. Although, Beidou and her crew sometimes mock me. 

About Felt...

He is not my child biologically, but having a small vision user turn up at your doorstep at ungodly hours really makes you do crazy things.

About Ningguang...

I respect Lady Ningguang quite a lot, however we don’t always see eye to eye on some things. But I trust her with my life.

About Beidou...

She gets me drunk. We like to have a drink when she turns up at the harbour with her crew. Good company.

About [blank]...

We do not get along. I know you’re supposed to respect the Seven, but the Pyro Archon and I have our fair share of battles... He just likes picking on me because I’m smaller than him, I’m sure.

More about Tao - I 

I don’t know my biological parents, but I’m sure they had their reasons for their disappearance. I wonder if they would be proud of me now...?

More about Tao - II

My father was a fish merchant, and my mother was a seamstress. They raised me well, I believe.

More about Tao - III

I often think about adopting a cat. Do you think Felt likes animals?

More about Tao - IV

It’s been a while since my mother passed away. My father and I often visit her grave together. I still have her hairpins, and wear them daily.

More about Tao - V

As a cryo user, I often get extremely cold. Felt likes to throw fur blankets over me when I fall asleep at my desk.

Tao's hobbies... 

I personally don’t have many hobbies, but I keep every gift from Felt in a special box.

Favourite food... 

My favourite food? Wanmin Restaurant’s Crystal Shrimp is a good snack.

Least favourite food... 

Almond Tofu. I don’t understand how that Adeptus can stand the texture.

Birthday...

Oh! How wonderful. Today is a special day, please do accept my gift. Maybe we can find Felt and enjoy a meal together!

——————————————————

Battle and Exploration Lines

Added to Party...

Oh? You need my aid?

Don’t dawdle, I might be needed later.

Where are we headed this time?

Elemental Burst...

Now you’re making me mad..!

Stay still and accept fate!

The cold is biting, isn’t it?

Idle...

I wonder if Felt will let me work in peace for a while... (Chat: Relax)

I should really bring a gift back for my employees...

Maybe I should ask about sailing the ocean, it might be fun.

Knocked Out...

This is not... Over yet...!

So... Cold...

I’m sorry father, I have failed you...

[captainsolare]

Summary: Hitoshi Shinso, manager of Open Mic coffee shop, is part of a Lonely Hearts Club, a club where you place ads in the newspaper to meet potential partners. You and Shinso have been corresponding via letters for months, falling for each other even though you have never met, nor have any idea as to what you look like. When you walk into the very coffee shop he works at, looking for a job, will you find a rival, or a soulmate? 

Word Count: 8,921

Tags: SheLovesMe AU , Coffeeshop AU, Quirkless AU , f!reader, enemies to lovers 

Characters: Y/N, Shinso, Midoriya, Denki, Mina, Hizashi Yamada (Present Mic), Shouta Aizawa (Eraserhead)

A/N: This was a huge labor of love for me, I adapted my favorite musical into a BNHA Coffee shop AU and I enjoyed every second of it. I decided to post this today (Oct. 6th) to celebrate my 5 month anniversary of becoming a writing blog. I hope you enjoy it! This is not a direct copy of the musical, I took a lot of the plot points out of my adapted story line and added things of my own of course. There are a few direct quotes from the musical embedded in here! 

TW:  If you watch the original musical, there are mentions of attempted suicide. In my written adaptation, that is not included because it is a subplot and irrelevant.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did creating it. Special thanks to @library-of-grimoires​ for helping me brainstorm ideas for which BNHA character I chose. 

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The air was warm with the last dregs of summer, a slight breeze stirring the air. Mina and Kaminari were outside the Open Mic coffee shop, getting ready to open up for the day. A delivery boy sped past on his bike, ringing the bell with a wave. Mina waved at him, taking a break from cleaning the outer windows. Denki was sweeping the sidewalk, but stopped to wipe his brow. “You know, we should totally skip work today and go on a picnic or something.” Mina smiled and stretched, “I know right! The weather feels amazing today.” 

Shinso and Midoriya came strolling up, overhearing their friends’ conversation. Shinso chuckled, “Too bad Aizawa would kill us if we did.” Midoriya nodded in agreement and Denki hung his head, “Yeah, you’re right.” Shinso went inside, surveying the progress Mina and Denki had already made. The chairs were placed at the tables, the counter was clean, the fridge was stocked, Midoriya flipped the sign on the door to, “Open,” and they braced themselves for the morning rush. 

When things finally slowed down, Shinso leaned on the counter, being the manager of this shop wasn’t easy, but luckily he had something to get him through the tough days. He absentmindedly brought his hand to his apron pocket, the letter from his “Dear friend” was there, its presence almost comforting. “Thinking about your, “friend” again?” Denki asked, the air quotes conveying exactly what he thought of the situation. Shinso smiled lazily at him, “And if I am?” Denki frowned, “Did she at least include a photo this time? Have you set a date to meet yet?” Shinso stood up, “No. And no.” 

Aizawa came down from the upstairs loft with a frown, “Less chatting, more coffee making!” He yelled, before strolling out the front door. “Yes sir!” Everyone called after him. Hizashi padded down the stairs after him, “Oh ignore him, he’s in a grumpy mood today. The man never gets enough sleep at night.” Hizashi soon directed his attention on Shinso and he cringed, knowing what was coming. “So, Hitoshi, when are you going to settle down? You’ve been a bachelor for way too long.” Shinso stammered out some excuse, but luckily a delivery boy arrived, interrupting the awkward conversation. “Ooh! They’re here!” Hizashi exclaimed, clapping his hands excitedly. 

“What’s here?” Midoriya asked, observing the piles of boxes arriving that they’d need to unpack. “Why, only the best thing ever!” Hizashi exclaimed, opening one of the boxes and pulling out a black leather box. He opened it and a happy little tune played, Hizashi’s smile widening as it played. After the tune stopped, there was silence, “Okay, that’s great sir. But what is it for?” Denki asked. “To hold things!” He exclaimed, as if it were obvious. “But, will anyone buy them?” Shinso asked. 

Hizashi laughed outright at that, “You’ll see! These will be selling like hotcakes.” He caught sight of Shinso’s quirked eyebrow and smirked. “I’ll make you a bet kid, I bet we’ll sell our first one within 1 hour.” Hizashi emphasized one by sticking a finger in his face, Shinso backed up, hands raised in defense, “I really don’t want to take your money, sir.” 

“Oh I see, the coward doesn’t want to lose his money.” Mina teased, piping up from where she was restocking the cabinets. Shinso bristled at her comment, “Alright, you’re on!” One by one customers trailed in, and each time, Hizashi tried to get them to buy his musical “holding boxes.” Each time, he was unsuccessful, leaving Shinso with a big smile on his face. 

Hizashi had to go to the upstairs loft for a moment, and Shinso checked his watch. Only 10 minutes left. The front door chimed and Shinso stood up straight, “Hello ma’am, can I get you anything today?”

You glanced at him, a nervous expression on your face. “No.” You said. Shinso was slightly taken aback, “Uh… Okay.” You stood there, a blank expression on your face for a moment, Shinso started to turn away, needing to attend to something when you seemingly snapped out of it. “Oh actually yes.” Shinso smoothed his apron and turned back to face you, plastering a smile on his face, “Okay, would you like a tea?” “No.” You replied. 

One by one he went through all the items on the menu, and you said no to all of them. “Pardon me, but that’s,” Shinso paused awkwardly, “everything on the menu.” He shot a glance at Midoriya, hoping his coworker could offer some semblance of help, but he only shrugged his shoulders and began helping the next customer that came in. “Is Mr. Aizawa here by chance? Or Mr. Yamada?” You asked, gripping the handle of your bag with what looked like white knuckle strength. 

Shinso cocked his head, “Maybe, I think they’re upstairs.” You looked hopeful at his words, standing up a little taller, but your hopes were dashed when he finished, “But, they’re both very busy today.” “Oh,” You said, crestfallen, “I don’t mind waiting!” You said, striding over to one of the nearby tables and sitting down, Shinso came out from behind the counter to follow you. “May I ask why you need to speak with them? As the manager, I can take a message.” You shook your head adamantly, “I’d rather speak with them directly if possible.” You clenched your hands together awkwardly, playing with your fingers. Shinso let out a small, almost inaudible sigh, “Okay, can I ask your name at least?” “L/N! Y/N L/N.” You replied. “Okay Ms. L/N, I’ll go tell them you’re here.” 

Shinso started to leave, motioning to Midoriya that he’d be back soon, but you stopped him by tapping his shoulder. He stiffened at the sudden contact but turned to face you with a smile on his face, Oh the joys of customer service. “Yes ma’am?” He asked. You cocked your head to the side, demeanor as awkward as when you first walked in, “One more thing, you’re still, hiring right?” You asked. Shinso narrowed his eyes, “Are you… looking for a job?” 

You put your hands up, “Guilty as charged!” You admitted, chuckling a little. Shinso pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, Seriously? I’m not even in charge of hiring. A job? In this economy? Shinso began to walk away once more, as more customers were entering the shop and he needed to actually do his job. “I’m a great barista!” You called after him, there was no way you were missing this chance. “I know coffee like nobody’s business! I even have a letter of recommendation.” Denki made eye contact with Shinso, gesturing that he had the new customers covered and so he turned back to you. “A letter of recommendation? For a coffee shop gig?” He asked. You nodded, muttering to yourself as you rummaged around in your bag for your letter. You kept putting item after item into his arms, only serving to get him even more annoyed than he already was. What the heck is this girl’s problem? Suddenly it was like a lightbulb went off as you remembered where you had actually put the letter, you reached into your back pocket and pulled it out, “Aha! Here it is!” You looked at Shinso and seeing his look of irritation, sheepishly held your bag open so he could put your things back inside. He unceremoniously did so and gritted his teeth, “Look, I’m sure you’re wonderful. And I’m sure that letter is really something, but the truth is, we aren’t hiring right now.” 

Your face fell, “What? But I saw on the website that---” At that moment, Aizawa appeared, “What’s going on here Shinso?” He asked, eyes flicking between the two of you, “Perhaps I can be of assistance.” Shinso put his hand on his hip smugly, “She wants a job.” He said, gesturing towards you with his thumb. “What?!” Aizawa exclaimed, taken aback, “Out of the question.” He began to walk away from you, people seemed to be doing that a lot to you lately, but you followed him, trying to stand up for yourself and give him the letter. 

You looked around desperately, looking for any chance to prove yourself. Your eyes zeroed in on the back wall display, a woman was looking at a leather box. You strode over, confidence renewed, “Aren’t these just wonderful?” You piped up, smiling at the woman. She glanced at you, “I suppose so, but what are they for?” You sent Shinso a panicked glance but he simply shook his head, not willing to help you in this situation. You shake off his rejection and turned back to the customer, stretching your hands out to her. She placed the box in your hands, watching to see what you’d do with it. 

You opened the box and the tune began to play, “Why, it’s a musical jewelry box of course!” You said with a smile. Shinso blinked, A musical jewelry box? Seriously? The woman tipped her head, “A musical jewelry box? Why would I need one of those?” You studied her for a moment, eyes drawn to her engagement ring. “Pardon me for asking ma’am, but do you by chance have a partner at the moment?” The woman nodded with a smile, glancing down at her ring. “And you like jewelry?” The woman nodded once more. Your face brightened with a smile, “Well, this is perfect for you! If you buy this box, your partner will have no choice but to buy you jewelry to put in it.” 

Shinso watched this exchange with a roll of his eyes, shoving down the fear that maybe he’d lose his bet. “And the tune?” You continued, “Whenever your partner hears it, they’ll know how much you appreciate the gifts they gave you. Just imagine the smile on their face, all because of this box.” Hizashi came downstairs near the end of this exchange, watching with a smirk on his face. “I’ll take it!” The woman says. Shinso chokes as Hizashi practically cheers at the sale. He rushes down the stairs grabbing your hands and saying, “You’re hired!” Shinso’s jaw drops, “What?!” 

Shinso stood there, dumbstruck at the whole situation. Hizashi snapped him out of it with a tap to his shoulder, “Now Shinso, if you please.” He said, extending his hand. Shinso grumbled while he fumbled in his pockets for the money they had bet. He watched you conversing with your new coworkers and he grumbled once more, the irritation bubbling within him. “I’m taking my break.” He muttered, strolling out the front door and heading to a nearby bench. He wasn’t one to smoke, but if he was, there would definitely be a cigarette in his hand. 

His sun was dulled by your shadow as you stood in front of him awkwardly; he lazily opened an eye and looked in your direction. “Can I help you?” He asked, coming off a little harsher than he intended. You rocked back and forth from your heels, to the balls of your feet, “I’m sorry for making you lose your bet.” He cocked an eyebrow, “That’s all? I don’t care.” He stood up and smoothed his apron, then returned to the coffee shop, leaving you standing there alone. You clenched your fist, Ugh! The nerve of this guy! 

Fall came, and with it a sense of new opportunity, and more letters. You had yours tucked in your pocket, ready to be taken to the post office after work; you walked in the door with a smile, “Happy October!” Midoriya groaned, “October? That means our seasonal drinks will be here soon.” Mina seemed to be getting a flashback to some terrible event as she shuddered, “Pumpkin Spice season.” 

You soon learned just how terrible ‘Pumpkin Spice season’ truly was, those days you could never quite catch your breath. Your relationship with Shinso was still rocky, but during the hectic days when he could see you were struggling he seemed to be a bit kinder to you. You went to a nearby restaurant on your lunch break and pulled out the letter you had received from Dear Friend, you felt your heart skip a beat as you held it, you had only picked it up this morning so you hadn’t gotten the chance to read it yet. 

Dear Friend, 

I hope this letter finds you well, you are my only source of peace these days. Everywhere I look I find something else that annoys me, and work is as hectic as ever, it’s always worse during this season, but things just feel harder. I find solace in your letters though, I can always count on you to bring a smile to my face. I’m glad to hear that your new job is going well, I hope that one coworker you’re having issues with sees how wonderful you truly are. 

Talk soon, 

Your friend. 

You felt your heart swell as you read it, and you sighed dreamily as you held the letter to your chest. There was something familiar about the scent coming off of the pages, but you couldn’t quite place it. Denki joined you at your table, jolting you from your daydreaming and you jumped. “What’s that?” He asked, curious as to the papers you were holding. You quickly tucked them away in your bag, “Oh it’s nothing! A friend of mine sent me a letter. I love getting letters, don’t you?” Denki shrugged as he took a bite of his sandwich, “I guess so, but isn’t it easier to send a text message?” 

November was soon upon you, and there was tension in the air. Shinso had been even more on edge than usual, and your fighting was worse than ever. You were on your lunch break with Mina when you decided to bring it up with her. “Hey Mina?” You asked, looking across to the pink girl. “Yeah, what’s up? Something on your mind?” You leaned on your elbow and sighed, playing absentmindedly with your straw wrapper. “I just, I just feel like Shinso just doesn’t like me very much. Ever since I came here, he hasn’t been nice to me at all.” You lamented. Mina chewed on her lip thoughtfully, “Well, if you want my opinion on things, from an outsider’s perspective, it seems like you haven’t been very nice to him either. Have you considered his feelings about it? Whenever you see each other it’s like two magnets repelling.” 

Her words stung in a way you had no idea they would, she was right, you really hadn’t considered his feelings about your treatment of him. You tapped your finger on the table, considering her words and what you could do to be the bigger person in all this. “Thanks Mina, that’s very helpful.” 

The next morning, you arrived to work early and helped Shinso without being asked. Shinso was surprised at your behavior, he supposed he should have just accepted it as kindness but there was something in him, the suspicious part of him that made him feel annoyed instead. First, you were helping him sweep, then you were sorting things that he normally sorted, then you were offering to stay late so he didn’t have to. Finally he’d had enough, “Do you think I can’t do my job or something? What’s your problem today?” He asked, words injected with venom, hands on his hips. Tears burned in the back of your eyes, “I-I didn’t think that at all. I just thought--” 

“Thought what? That I needed your help? Even though I’ve been at this job way longer than you have?” He interrupted. You didn’t bother to reply, just grabbed your bag and stormed off into the night, not willing to let him see your tears. Midoriya and Mina stared. “That was, highly uncalled for man.” Midoriya said, before returning to sweeping. Mina walked out after you, but not before sending a scathing glare Shinso’s way. Midoriya finished sweeping and left; Shinso was still frozen in place, left alone in the empty coffee shop.

The next day, Shinso received your letter and it felt like he had failed you, well, Dear Friend. As he read it, he replayed the scene of you walking out into the night, and was filled with regret. I should, apologize. 

Dear Friend, 

I think this week I will try to be kinder. Too often I have not considered the consequences of my words and actions and as a result, people I care about have gotten hurt. So this week I am going to try on kindness. I challenge you to do the same.

Talk soon,

Your Friend  

December came, and like the cold weather you met his apology with stony silence. As time passed, you retained a professional work relationship, though barbed words were still tossed between you, they were less sharp than before. Shinso was outside, reading a paper of some kind when you walked up to him. “Good Morning Shinso!” You said, warmly. Shinso glanced at you and made a big show of checking his watch, “Ah, Ms. L/N, I see you’re on time today. Congratulations!” He replied, a fake smile plastered on his face. You returned his fake smile, “So sorry to disappoint you Shinso.” 

You headed for the door but he put an arm out to stop you, “Oh but I’m not disappointed, far from it. Let’s call it… surprised.” He chuckles and you chuckle too, but yours served to mock him. Instead of gracing him with a reply, you entered the shop and slammed the door before you could follow him through it. 

Denki and Midoriya were sweeping the walk and cleaning the windows, watching the exchange with a mixture of confusion and amusement. “They always argue, why is that?” Denki asked, looking up at his coworker. Midoriya glanced down at him, “Oh it’s simple really. Sometimes when two people like each other very much---” “Wait wait wait! They like each other?” Midoriya nodded, “I think so.” Denki cocked his head to the side, “Well don’t you think we should tell them?” Midoriya stepped off the stepladder with a laugh, “Trust me, they’d never believe us.” 

A week passed, and you were at home, reading and rereading your letter from Dear Friend.  

Dear Friend, 

Have you set your calendar for Tuesday? I can’t wait to meet you, I feel as though I already know your soul, and I can’t wait to match a face to what I already know.

See you soon, 

Your friend 

You squealed and held the letter to your chest, collapsing back on your bed. I can’t believe I get to meet him tonight! You rolled over and glanced at the clock, Perfect, still plenty of time to get to work. You got ready for the day, nervous as you had ever been, you changed outfits dozens of times, wanting to look perfect for this life-changing date, finally you settled on an outfit, dressy but not too dressy, but it still looked good as hell on you if you did say so yourself. You glanced at your clock, “Crap! I’m late.” 

Shinso sat in the upstairs of the coffee shop, reading your letter over and over. 

Dear Friend, 

I’m waiting warmly for our date, even though it’s quite cold out these days. Until then, I count the hours until I’m with you.

See you soon, 

Your friend 

His heart was nearly beating out of his chest, and he had a goofy smile on his face. “Hot date tonight?” Aizawa asked, causing his cheeks to turn a deep shade of red. “Th-that’s none of your business sir!” Aizawa chuckled, “So that’s a yes then, it’s about time. I hope it goes well.” 

You rushed into the shop, smoothing your clothes once you were inside. “Good morning Y/N!” Mina said warmly, smiling at you. You waved breathlessly, “Am I terribly late? Has Shinso noticed yet.” “No and no. He’s upstairs right now.” You felt yourself instantly relax, having him lecture you on a day as important as this one was something you didn’t think you could handle. “By the way, you look stunning today babe!” Mina said, wrapping her arms around you for a quick hug. You smiled and took a step back, doing a spin for good measure. “You really think so?” “We do! Right boys?” She said, gesturing for Denki and Midoriya to compliment you as well. 

They chorused their agreement and your smile grew wider. “Thank you all, I was so nervous it took me forever to get dressed this morning. Which is why I’m so late.” You grimaced. Denki surfaced from behind the counter. “Oh? I know what that means. Our little Y/N is in love. And you’re meeting with them tonight!” Denki said, elbowing your side and waggling his eyebrows. Midoriya rolled his eyes, “And how would you know that?” Mina looked at him with wide eyes, “Oh didn’t you hear? Denki is our resident expert in love. Which is quite remarkable considering that he’s never been in it.” Mina teased, sticking her tongue out at the blonde. 

Shinso came down the stairs and you stiffened, bracing yourself to be yelled at, but he simply said good morning and walked right past you to go behind the counter. Your eyes widened and you leaned in close to Mina. “He didn’t yell at me. What’s wrong with him today?” You whispered. Mina shrugged, “Dunno. He has seemed pretty preoccupied by something today though.” 

“Dammit!” Shinso yells as he spills whipped cream all over his shirt. Denki quickly heads back to where he is and helps him clean up. “Dude, what’s up with you today? You’re so nervous I can feel you vibrating.” Shinso’s hands shake as he wipes off the whipped topping, “Well, you know, big day haha.” Denki quirks an eyebrow, “Big day? What’s up?” Shinso wrings his hands nervously, “Well, I’m meeting her tonight.” Denki gasps, “The letter girl!” Shinso claps his hand over Denki’s mouth and nods, looking around and praying that no one heard his outburst. 

The two headed upstairs where they could speak more privately. “So… Face to face at last.” Denki says, a lazy smile on his face. Shinso nods as he paces back and forth. Denki sighs, “Well, I tell you what, I hope she’s everything you’ve dreamed her to be.” Shinso leans back against the railing, looking up at the ceiling, “Can I be honest with you Denki? I hope she isn’t.” Denki looked up sharply, a judging look on his face. “Because,” he continued, “If she’s as beautiful, or as smart, or as funny as I think she is, then what will she think of me?” 

“Can I be honest with you? I think it’ll go just fine; because you’re smart, and you’re funny and handsome, not as handsome as me of course, but still handsome. And if she can’t see that, it’s her loss.” Shinso shot him a look at the handsome part but still let a small smile cross his face. “Sorry man, I’m just nervous and upset. We’ve never met and I get to meet her, tonight, at eight.” He kneaded his forehead, “Geez, I can already feel how much of a nightmare today is going to be,” He looked at his watch, “Oh lucky me, 3 more minutes, 2 more seconds, 10 more hours to go!” 

Downstairs, you and Mina were stocking the shelves with holiday items. “So... “ Mina nudged you. You hummed in response,” Your hot date tonight, what’re they like? I want to know everything!” Your hand came to a stop near the shelf, “Well, the truth is, I’ve never met him.” Mina gasps, “Never? So this is a blind date?” You shook your head, “No. I know him, we’ve just never met.” You and Mina continued to stock the shelves as you talked. “How can that be?” She asked. 

You turned to her with a smile, “Letters, so many letters.” Mina widened her eyes, “You belong to a Lonely Heart’s Club?!” You closed your eyes and nodded, embarrassed. “To be perfectly honest with you, I was just as surprised as you are. But, I saw his ad in the paper and we started talking.” Mina looked at you skeptically, “What if he’s like old?” You shook your head, “Don’t be silly, the advertisement says ‘young man.’” 

“You haven’t even asked for a photo?” Mina asked, flabbergasted as you shook your head once more. You sat back on your knees and looked at her, “I don’t know his name or what he looks like, but really I don’t need those things. I know what he looks like on the inside and that’s what's important. I know that he’s kind, and soft-spoken, and nice, and terribly well-educated. And he was often the only thing that made me smile on the hard days. That’s what matters to me,” You stretched, “I wasn’t sure about this whole thing at first, but somehow, somehow he made me fall for him through words alone.” 

Mina smiled as she stood, “Well I hope things work out tonight.” She helped you stand, and you stepped back to admire your work. You were in the middle of high-fiving when Shinso came down the stairs. “Hey everyone! Aizawa wants us to stay late to put up Holiday decorations.” Your heart dropped, “Um, Shinso? I can’t.” He gawked at you, “And why not?” You put your hands up, “I have a date, you know that!” Shinso made a face, “I know no such thing.” You placed your hands on your hips, “How can you say that? Why do you think I dressed up today? For my own personal health or something?” 

Shinso shook his head, not in the mood to argue. “Honestly, I have no idea why you dressed up. But either way, I’m just following Mr. Aizawa’s directions.” You leaned against the counter, “Why did he have to pick this one night?” You gasped and looked at Shinso, “Unless it was you who picked it! Because you knew that I had plans.” Shinso stared at you in disbelief. “You know, it’s depressing to know that you hate me that much.” 

He narrowed his eyes, “I do not hate you!” He objected, then he sighed. “Look, can we have a truce?” He extended his hand to you. You took it with a smile, “Of course Shinso, anytime. After all, it’s always you who starts these things.” You start to walk away but he pulls you back at your words. “Oh I’m the one?!” He raised his voice, offended that you would say such a thing. You nodded adamantly, “Yes! Admit it, you’ve resented me since the moment I got here.” He scoffed and let go of your hand like it burned him. “For the record, I don’t resent you.” 

The two of you began to walk in opposite directions but suddenly Shinso whirled around, causing you to do the same. “But if I did!” He yelled, “I would have good reason to!” You looked at him indignantly, “Is this about that bet? The one I made you lose? Because that’s a petty reason to resent someone.” “I already told you I don’t!” You rolled your eyes and stormed away from him, straight outside to the bench, you needed a moment to cool down. “That must be the rudest, most difficult, worst-tempered girl in the world!” Shinso yelled.  

The rest of the day passed without much incident; in the end, you did get to leave as you planned. It began to snow as you walked to the restaurant, each step growing more hesitant. You gripped your copy of Little Women tighter in your hand, praying that the night would go well. Will he like me? You wondered, Will I be what he’s imagined me to be? Can I live up to the expectations I set in the letters? The restaurant was on the corner coming up, you reached it, and paused at the door. There would be no hiding behind your paper and pen tonight, he was going to see the real you. You were jostled by a couple walking past you to enter the building and snapped out of it. He must be in the same boat I am. I’m sure he’s just as nervous as me. 

You shook off your nervousness and gathered the courage to walk inside. You greeted the host, and were seated at a table, your date was nowhere to be seen yet. Tapping your foot anxiously, you set the book on the table sitting up where it would be visible, and you pulled the rose, the other calling card of your correspondence, from your bag. 

Back at the coffee shop, Shinso was barreling in through the door. Denki looked at him in surprise, “Why are you back? Didn’t you have a date like now?” Shinso nodded breathlessly, “I do. I was almost there but I got nervous and ended up running all the way back here. Will you go with me?” Denki nodded, untying his apron quickly and hanging it back on its hook. Once they were outside they could talk more freely. “So… why did you want me to go?” He asked. Shinso sent him a nervous glance, “I’m too nervous to look first.” He admitted, “I need you to look. She’ll be sitting alone, with a red rose and a copy of ���Little Women’. And I have my rose, I’m going to tuck it in my breast pocket.” Denki smiled, “Oh I see. You want me to do a little surveillance, ease your nerves a little bit.” Shinso nodded, they would be approaching the restaurant soon.  

You sipped your water nervously as the hour grew later. Has something happened to him? Is he not coming? Did he already come and leave? The waiter came by once more, “Can I get you anything ma’am?” You shook your head politely, “Not yet. It should only be a little longer.” I hope.   

The boys entered the restaurant, Shinso trailing behind. Once they were inside, Denki elbowed him. “Where’s the rose?” He asked. When Shinso didn’t answer, he was smacked on the arm. “Oh, um, here.” Shinso pulled a wilted rose from his pocket. Denki made a face that was a mixture of pity and confusion, but he didn’t vocalize his thoughts. “Give it to me.” He said, pulling it from his grasp. He neatly tucked it into his breast pocket, then ran his fingers on Shinso’s hair, smoothing it. “Okay deep breaths buddy, I’ll go take a look at your future wife.” He said, tapping the front of his friend’s shoulder lightly. 

Denki awkwardly weaved through the tables, scrutinizing every guest for the items he needed to look for. Each person he made eye contact with looked extremely uncomfortable by the situation but he brushed it off. I have a job to do. One table near the wall, the person had the menu in front of their face so he stood precariously on his tiptoes to peer over it. Instead of a pretty young girl, he was met with the face of an elderly man, “Oh, I’m sorry sir. Have a nice meal.” 

He was nearing the last table, in the corner of the restaurant. He gasped when he saw the occupant, it was you, dressed up with a book on the table, a rose tucked in as the bookmark. He froze and did the only thing he could think to do, he ripped the scarf from his neck and held it in front of his face as he made a hasty retreat back to Shinso’s side.

Shinso saw his friend’s pale face and his heart dropped, eyes wide with concern. “She’s old. She’s old and ugly and has no teeth? That must be it.” Denki shook his head, “I… wouldn’t say that.” Shinso hit his fists together, “Well there must be something wrong! You’re terrible at hiding things Denki.” Denki grimaced, “Well, she’s actually very attractive.” 

Shinso felt his cheeks warm, “Really?” He hesitated, “Will I think so?” Denki shrugged, “Beauty’s a subjective thing, but I think so. She looks like…” Shinso interjected, “Some famous person! Right?” He started listing off names but his friend shook his head at every one. “Someone from our shop.” Denki finished. Shinso gave him an incredulous look, “Our shop? The coffee shop?” 

Denki put his finger up, as if to reply, but he hesitated. “Just spit it out already!” Shinso snapped. “Well, she looks a little like… Miss Y/N.” 

“Wait wait wait, Miss L/N Y/N? Our L/N Y/N?” Shinso asked, his heart beating a million miles an hour. What could this mean? Denki nodded and his heart dropped again. “No no no, that’s not right. You’re joking.” Denki shook his head adamantly, “No I’m not. This girl is the spitting image of our coworker, and your nemesis.” Shinso shook his head, there was no way this was true. It just wasn’t possible, you were abrasive and sarcastic, there was no way you were the girl from the letters. “Take a look for yourself, last table in the back corner.” Denki said. 

Shinso did an almost identical repeat of Denki’s path a few moments ago. He weaved through the tables, and there in the corner, just as Denki said, you were. Shinso froze, then bolted, almost running out into the night, but Denki grabbed him. “You are not going to just leave her there. Go over there like an adult, and figure things out. I expect a status report in the morning. Good luck comrade.” Denki gave Shinso a mock salute and left, leaving him alone at the front of the restaurant. 

Shinso reluctantly made his way to the back of the restaurant, mind running at a million miles an hour. He was in love with you? No way, it was all a mistake. It had to be. Shinso shoved the rose and book back into his bag, unwilling to give himself away. He cleared his throat and you looked up, nearly falling out of your chair. “What the hell are you doing here?” You hissed, anger starting to bubble up inside you. Shinso clenched his fist, bouncing it in the air, “Just out for a drink. How about yourself?” You stared at him, “I’m waiting for someone.” You replied, as if it were obvious. “Anyone in particular?” He asked. 

“Obviously,” You replied flatly, “Like I said before, I didn’t get dressed up for nothing.” “Well, I could keep you company while you wait.” He offered, moving to sit down. You put an arm out to stop him, “Absolutely not. I told you that seat is reserved for someone very important.” A look of disappointment crossed his face, “So you won’t let me stay?” You weren’t sure what made you cave, but you relented. “Fine. 30 seconds.” 

There was silence for a moment, when a thought hit you. “Shinso, are you spying on me?” You asked suspiciously, frustration welling up. “Didn’t believe me when I said I had a date so you have to come see for yourself?” Your voice rose, you were practically yelling. Shinso snorted, “Miss L/N. Who would I be spying for? Mr. Aizawa? Don’t be ridiculous.” You met his excuse with a glare, “Shinso, your time is up. If you don’t leave immediately I will have you thrown out!” 

The waiter appeared, “Excuse me miss, I hate to be a bother but could you and your husband either quiet down or fight elsewhere?” Your jaw dropped, “H-h-husband?!” You exclaimed, flabbergasted by the notion, “This man is not my husband. This is a business associate.” “Oh well pardon me. Either way, you will need to quiet down for the comfort of our other guests.” Shinso stifled a chuckle as the waiter left, leaving you with a seething look on your face. 

Shinso leaned forward on his elbow, “So. Have you known this person long? The one you’re waiting for?” You turned your seething glare on him, “Frankly, that’s none of your business.” A thought struck you that sent pangs of panic through your body, What if he’s already come here? What if he saw us together and left? “Can you just leave, please?” A wave of panic washed over you. “Now why would I do that? It’s not proper for a man to keep a lady waiting. Even if they are an old friend, a dear friend.” 

You sighed, “I really don’t want to discuss this with you Shinso.” The song coming through the speakers changed, a classical song came drifting to your ears. “Ahh I love this tune.” Shinso reminisced, “My mother used to sing it to me when I was a kid.” “Mine to you replied.” Shinso gasped, “Miss L/N! Do you realize what this means? We have something in common!” “Hmm.” You hummed, “Well, it’s too bad I was the only one who grew up.” You replied, a fake smile plastered on your face. 

Shinso met your smile with a fake one of his own; he knew this was wrong, playing with your feelings like this, but he couldn’t resist. He had no intention of telling you tonight, he wanted to test the waters first instead of shocking you with the news. “Ahh I see what’s going on here. You’re nervous because you’ve never met this person before!” You tensed at his words, confirming his suspicions.

The minutes passed, Shinso kept telling you horror stories he’d seen in the news about Lonely Hearts Clubs. You’d had enough of his nonsense for the night. You clenched your fists, and hit them on the table. “If you don’t leave right now, I will scream.” Shinso tried to interject, but your rant had begun, and it was an unstoppable flood. “You know? Dante once described all the depths of Hell. Maybe after this you should go there, you’d fit right in!” “Miss L/N---” 

You stood, “Shinso! You are easily the most insufferable, insensitive man I have ever met.” Shinso scoffed, “I’m surprised at you.” but he made no move to leave. You gritted your teeth, “Fine, be that way. I’m sorry to have to do this.” You screamed, and before you knew what was going on, you and Shinso were out on the street in front of the restaurant. “Oh no.” You whispered, tears pouring down your cheeks. Shinso stood in front of you, he hadn’t meant for things to happen this way. You hit your fists on his chest as you cried, but it didn’t hurt him. “I’ll never forgive you for this.” 

Shinso led you to a nearby bench, and you sat in silence for a long while. You looked up at him with tearfilled eyes, your eyes met his purple ones, ones filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. “Haven’t you had enough? Are you happy now? You got your revenge on me?” You sniffled sadly, “I genuinely don’t understand you, Shinso.” Shinso snorted, “How could you Miss L/N? You’ve never taken the time to get to know me.” You chuckled darkly and wiped the tears from your eyes, anger washing over you once more. “I know you plenty well. I know you’re just a not very smart, not very handsome man with the personality of a python.” The words stung Shinso, even though he probably deserved them, and he stood. 

“Have a good night Miss L/N.” He said, voice tinged with a sadness that made your heart sting. “Wait!” You yelled as he walked away, “Oh Shinso, I didn’t mean all those things.” You reached after his retreating form with a futile hand. Soon he disappeared from view, leaving you alone in the chilly night. You waited on the bench, tears hot against your cold skin as you waited. You weren’t exactly sure what you were waiting for, for Shinso to come back?, for your mystery friend to arrive? You weren’t hopeful for either of those things, and yet you waited. Of course, it’s snowing. You thought to yourself, chuckling at your circumstances. “Oh well, I’ve been waiting for this person my whole life, what’s a few more hours?” 

Somehow you made it home, but you didn’t care how late it was; no way in hell you were going to work tomorrow. You wouldn’t give Shinso the satisfaction of seeing you this way, you felt defeated, and you blamed him. You got into your pajamas, and slipped into bed, cursing the whole day. 

The next day Shinso arrived at work, and you were nowhere to be found. “Miss L/N is not coming in today. She texted me.” Mina told Mr. Aizawa. Shinso overheard this and his heart clenched, he had royally messed up last night. “Hey Mina, what is L/N’s favorite food?” He asked awkwardly. Mina gave him a strange look, but gave him the answer. He made some excuse for leaving and headed to the corner store, and then to your place. He hesitated before knocking, would you be upset I came here? He wondered. 

There was a knock at your door, “Who is it?” You asked hoarsely. You dragged yourself out of bed and to the front door, “Miss L/N? It’s me.” The voice sounded familiar, but with your pounding head you couldn’t place it. You opened it to find Shinso, “Oh, it’s you.” You slammed the door in his face, wincing at the bang. You grabbed a blanket from the couch and wrapped it around your form, then opened the door. 

“I was--- in the neighborhood.” He said, awkwardly. You gestured for him to come inside and sat on the couch. “What do you want? If it’s about last night, just spit it out. I’m not feeling well today.” “So I heard.” He replied, setting the corner store bag on the floor. “You knew I was sick?” You asked, surprised. “I overheard Mina telling Aizawa about it.” “Oh.” 

Suspicion welled up within you and you narrowed your eyes at him. “So, you decided to come here, and make sure I was really sick. You thought I was faking it!” Shinso shook his head in protest, “No! Believe it or not, I was actually worried about you.” You stood up suddenly and retreated to your room, rummaging around in your closet. Shinso followed you and stood in the doorway, “Um, what are you doing?” 

“What does it look like? I’m getting ready for work, obviously.” You said, tossing a shoe haphazardly over your shoulder. “That’s not a good idea.” Shinso said. You scoffed, turning over your shoulder to look at him. “And why not? Because you don’t want me to go to work?” Shinso grimaced at you, “No, it’s not that. It’s the fact that you’re obviously ill and we work in a coffee shop.” You stopped abruptly, “Oh. That’s a good point.” 

You sat on the edge of your bed, feeling utterly defeated. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be mad at this man, the one you felt like you hated as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. “Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?” Shinso asked quietly, he knew he couldn’t fix everything, he did leave last night without telling you the truth after all, but maybe listening was a start. You sighed and somehow slumped even further. 

"It's just--" you hesitated to finish, but there was something in Shinso's face spurring you on, "I love him, y'know? And last night was so awful I just, I don't even know if I can face him." You heard a sharp intake of breath that was quickly disguised as a cough. You began to cry, and Shinso felt his heart sink, he had really done it this time. He made a move to sit next to you on the bed, to try and comfort you, but hesitated. When you didn’t object, he tentatively sat next to you and brought his arm around to pat you on the shoulder. “Miss L/N, I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself for last night at the restaurant. I’m so sorry I ruined the night for you.” 

You shook your head, “No! Because honestly you were right, I hadn’t met him before. He was just someone who was writing letters to me--- such wonderful letters.” Your voice broke a little as you said the last words. “He never showed up?” He asked, though he already knew the answer. You shook your head, “No. I waited and waited but he never came.” Shinso grimaced and looked away, “I feel very responsible for that, I’m sorry.” 

You laughed and it was the first smile he’d seen you crack all morning, “Well, it was kind of your fault that we got kicked out of the restaurant, but even so… If he had cared at all, he would have explained.” 

Shinso stood up suddenly and you thought you had offended him somehow, but he came back with a paper sack in his arms. "Well," he said, handing you the convenience store bag, "I'm sure he'll reach out, maybe he feels the same way. I hope you feel better, I’d better head to the shop now since we’re understaffed. I’ll send the others your best!” “Hey Shinso?” You asked, not wanting to leave your thanks left unsaid, “I really appreciate you coming here today. Spending time with you has made me, like you.” 

Shinso smiled and ran his fingers through his hair in that way he always did, “Thank you Miss L/N, goodbye now.” And with a click of your front door, you were alone, you took a moment, for some reason you were already missing his company, but you didn’t let yourself dwell on that notion for too long; You reached into the bag to examine its contents. 

A smile was instantly brought to your face, the bag contained all of your favorite snacks. I wonder how he knew… Mina maybe? That would make sense. You opened one of the snacks and looked around your room, eyes landing on your paper and pen that lay on your desk. You decided that it would be a good option to reach out to your Friend first, and apologize for last night. 

Dear Friend, 

I am so sorry about last night, it was a nightmare in every way. But together you and I can laugh at last night someday 

You tried to finish the letter, but kept getting distracted by thoughts of Shinso. The way he smelled, the way he was so nice to you this morning, the snacks he had brought, that he had cared to come here at all after the way you treated him last night. You grimaced at that last thought, I was so nasty to him. Well… he certainly deserved some of it but even so. 

Things went on like this for a while, you would write, then a thought would intrude. You know what? We were together this morning, and for the first time, we didn’t fight! Well, miracles do happen I guess. Oh wait, where was I? 

Dear friend, blah blah blah blablah, 

The more you let the incident with Shinso this morning stew in your mind, the stranger you felt about it; It was like he had become a totally new person overnight. Not that you were complaining, he had brought you food, and he smelled nice. Oh no, you stiffened, am I starting to have feelings? For him?! You waved the notion away with your hand, Nah! This isn’t some enemies to lovers romcom! 

Shinso was trying his best not to be giddy. You loved him?! Surprisingly, that was the best news he had heard all day. He shook his head in amazement as he walked back to the coffee shop, How could I not have seen it before? It’s so obvious she’s the person from the letters. And she loves me! And I, I think I love her too. He walked into the coffee shop and Denki immediately picked up on his emotional state. “Something good happen today?” He asked, giving him a sly smile. Shinso shrugged, “Maybe. I’ll tell you over lunch.” Denki nodded, and they got to work. 

Lunchtime came quickly, and Shinso breathlessly told Denki the story. Denki hung on to every word, and had a smug smile on his face at the end of it. “See? What’d I tell ya? Everything turned out fine.” Shinso laughed, “I suppose you’re right. Forgive me for not always trusting your judgement.” Denki put his hands up, “No harm done man. So, when are you going to tell her?” he asked, leaning forward. Shinso took a sip of his drink thoughtfully, “Honestly, I don’t think I’m ready yet. She doesn’t love me persay, she loves the man from the letters. I’m not just going to tell her outright that it was me the whole time, then she might feel betrayed. I want to earn her love, as the real me.” Denki smiled, “Hitoshi, you are really cool sometimes.” He snorted in response, “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that ‘sometimes.’” 

The days passed rather quickly after that, the holiday rush was upon the coffee shop and things were as busy as ever. “Care to grab lunch with me today Miss L/N?” Shinso asked, of course you agreed. This became a new ritual for the two of you, and soon he was walking you home from work as well. One winter afternoon it was snowing as you walked to grab lunch together, and you kept catching the snowflakes on your tongue. “You know that’s childish right?” He teased. You turned and stuck your tongue out at him, “Don’t. Care.” 

Things had changed between you, you weren’t sure of the exact moment, but it had perhaps gone by without you even noticing. One day Midoriya brought up to you just how much it had changed, but you waved him off. “It hasn’t changed that much.” You said. You received a skeptical look in return, “Have you not noticed you’re on a first name basis with him now?” You blinked, then thought back to this morning, when the name Hitoshi passed through your lips as  easy as water. “Oh.” 

Mina was the one who brought this up to Shinso, and he was also taken slightly aback. Oh. I guess things really have changed. “I don’t mind the change though,” Mina continued, “I think it’s great you two are finally getting along! Someone had to get through that stubborn personality of yours.” “Oh quit teasing him Mina! You know he can’t handle it.” You interjected as you walked by, presents in your arms. “Oh! Are those for the party tonight?” Mina asked. 

“Yes! You’re going right?” You asked, smiling at your friend. “Obvs! I’m so excited, presents and food with friends is the best part of the holidays.” You chuckled at her reply, “What about you Hitoshi? Are you coming?” You were painfully aware of the way his name felt in your mouth, it was almost too comfortable. He nodded, “Yes, I have some things I need to take care of here first though.” “Oh really? I’ll stay and help!” he tried to object, but if there was anything he had learned about you, it was that you were far too persistent to argue with. 

And so you were left alone in the shop with Hitoshi Shinso, everyone else had gone on ahead to Aizawa’s house. “Are you excited for tonight? Your mystery man is coming right?” He asked, leaning the broom against the wall. “Of course! Excited, nervous, all of the above. And oh goodness, I am very nervous about that. You have so much in common with him, I’ll surely need you to help keep the conversation flowing.” You were facing away from him, straightening the shelves. “Yeah, about that…” His tone seemed off so you turned to face him, a questioning look on your face. 

Shinso cleared his throat, “I am so sorry about last night, it was a nightmare in every way, but together you and I can laugh at last night someday.” He said quietly. You gasped, tears coming to your eyes. I’d only written those words to Dear Friend, so that must mean… “It was you? You were Dear Friend all along?” You asked breathlessly. He barely managed a nod when you were throwing your arms around him. “Hitoshi Shinso, you are a devil of a man you know that?” You laughed, and kissed him on the cheek. 

“You’re not mad?” He asked, cheek warm at the place your lips had touched. “Of course not. Actually, I couldn’t be happier.” You replied, smiling as you watched your not-so-secret secret lover’s face light up with a beaming smile. “Well, that’s great. I’m glad I have you as my Dear Friend.” He said, slinking his arm around your waist. You walked to the party hand in hand, laughing about how you didn’t know sooner and how you had hated each other at first. 

You rang the doorbell and Aizawa opened the door, an uncharacteristic smile on his face. You and Shinso looked at each other in confusion but you saw Hizashi standing behind him, pointing up. Mistletoe. You internally groaned, of course Aizawa would pull something like this. To your surprise, Shinso whirled you around and pulled you close, giving you a breathless kiss in front of all your coworkers. “I KNEW IT!” Midoriya yelled. Through fits of laughter, Aizawa invited you in. “Took you long enough, crazy kids.”

[girderednerve]

don't be an asshole. this post is long, boring, & full of me complaining about a homophobe in my workplace

okay so one of the things i do at my job is help cover online chats & patron emails for the library. people can submit questions, list the library branch they use and receive replies from staff who work at those branches, so i regularly backread the open tickets to see if there's one that needs to be picked up. also chat is slow & they overstaff it so i'm trying not to be bored

anyway, i paid sharply for this curiosity last week because one of the open tickets that was addressed to my library was a real kick in the teeth. here is a paraphrase, from an anonymous library user whom i immediately identified from his email address: "why does the library never put conservative books on display? the library often puts out liberal books and disgusting queer books. if this continues i won't use the library anymore." (emphasis mine; that bit is a direct quote. around the time the email was sent, my library, which is in a black neighborhood, had displays for pride & juneteenth.)

this is a frustrating & unpleasant question to receive. if i had just found it as an open ticket, i probably would've claimed it myself, tagged it "comments," and responded that a) the library attempts to be inclusive with our displays, according to guidelines from the american library association, b) the library does not tolerate hateful or bigoted language in communications with us, and c) if the patron could identify a more specific gap in our displays, we might consider adding it to our rotation. i'd probably have been polite about it & then talked shit to every single one of my coworkers.

however, that is not what happened. what happened is that the head of our remote reference services assigned the ticket to my coworker, who is a youth assistant, not a manager, and who is moreover openly gay. she wrote back an extremely controlled response asking to have the ticket referred instead to someone in administration who can authoritatively affirm the library's commitment to diversity & inclusion. the person who initially assigned her the ticket followed up to explain that the patron specified our branch as his home location, so it seemed appropriate to her, but then said she'd go ahead and handle the ticket herself. there was no apology or justification for the fact that every other even mildly critical comment we have ever received has been assigned to the branch manager or assistant manager, not random youth staff.

at this point i was basically apoplectic, but it actually got worse: after claiming the ticket, our erudite & endlessly considerate remote reference services manager responded to it two days later, and opened the email with "hello, and thank you for your question!" at no point did she like, object to this patron's use of an actual entire slur, because in that context queer is a slur. she never followed up with my coworker to apologize or update her, which shouldn't have been a surprise because my coworker was also the target of an online bigoted harassment campaign through our chat service & she never did anything about that either.

my manager was on vacation & has since been looped in, and she too is furious. i am just like. i am spinning my fucking wheels here. why do i work with someone who thinks it's okay to treat staff this way, to expose them to risk & do nothing about it? she makes so much more money than either me or my coworker, and she can't even muster basic human decency.

anyway that's my argument against intellectual freedom in libraries, i guess

[httphopewrld]

control me (pt. 2) | (f/m)

↳ part of the ‘lyrics series’

Jimin was just a guy who modeled for your art class, and someone you found attractive, nothing else. You didn’t think anything would evolve from that. But then you asked him to model for your practice sketches, causing you to see him more. That feeling towards him became more apparent as you realized he occupied your thoughts. But there’ll never be anything between us. You convinced yourself. However, that changed when Jimin asked, “What am I to you?” Maybe there was more to your relationship than you realized.

[p.1]

Pairing: model!jimin x reader

Genre: fluff, smut, and angst

Rating: 16+ because there’s some smuuuuuutttt and swearing

Warnings: smut, foul language, dom/sub!jimin, dom/sub!reader, oral (fem receiving), protected sex, fingering, thigh riding, handjob (kinda), dirty talk, body praising, self-doubt (discouraging one’s looks compared to others), pretty soft sex? Nothing too rough, I think, but it’s detailed.

Word Count: 9k+

A/N: it’s a lot more words compared to pt.1, but I thought that it would better to just give you guys the whole thing instead of making you guys wait any longer. I hope you guys enjoy!

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The nosiness of the café bothers you. Sure, it’s a public place, where people can choose their own volume of speech; but boy did it grind your gears when people spoke above a comfortable tone.

Despite the cozy warmth of the café, the cold found its ways underneath the wool sleeves of your sweater. You put your coat back on and sat back in your seat.

He said he’d be on time, but you didn’t want to count on it. He was busy, probably, modeling for other students in your human anatomy class. It was the middle of the week, so what else did you expect? He barely knew you, yet he was your “knight in shining armour” on that fateful night.

About a few days after his rescuing, you called to meet him at a café. To pay him back, you’d buy him any beverage and pastry he wanted, and hopefully, amuse him with your social skills. However, you’d be kidding yourself if you weren’t absolutely horrified to talk to him and were about to pee yourself because you were currently waiting in a pool of anxiety and self-doubt.

If only talking to astonishingly attractive people wasn’t complete social suicide, things wouldn’t be so scary. And if Rachel hadn’t pressured you to go out for coffee with him.

You felt your leg jittering underneath the table, and your bottom lip in your teeth. God, I wish he’d be on time.

As if on cue, Jimin jogged into the café, chest rising and falling rapidly. When his eyes connected with yours, his whole body seemed relieved.  

He sped-walked to your table, taking off his jacket and running a hand through his dirty blonde hair.

“I’m sorry that I’m late. There was traffic, and the bus didn’t arrive on time,” he sat down with a tired exhale.

“You took the bus? Where did you come from?”

“I had a model casting across town. Didn’t get anything though.” He pouted briefly before gently smiling. “I’m sorry for being late.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You chuckled, finding his numerous apologies adorable.

A quick pause in your conversation made you rive with panic.

“Oh, what do you want to drink? It’s cold outside and you appear to have run for a bit.” You gestured towards the chalk menu to your right.

He read the menu before asking, “could I actually get an iced americano and a croissant?”

“Sure,” you replied as you got up from your seat.

You went up to the cashier and ordered your drinks. As you waited for them, you scanned the crowded café. Some were seated on tables or in the leather couches. Others appeared to only be using the space as shelter from the weather as they sent out a quick text or call.

You realized that your gaze always fell back on Jimin as you observed the café. It rested on his clenched jawline as he read something off his phone, and how his leg shook with, what you assumed was anxiousness.

Maybe he was nervous too? You wondered as your name was called.

You picked up the tray with your pastries and drinks and carefully walked back to your table.

Jimin’s eyes lit up when you set the tray down on the table. He grabbed his iced-americano and took a couple of desperate gulps.

You watched in amazement as you put his croissant, your muffin and hot chocolate, and extra water on the table. When you can back from returning the tray back to the main counter, he had finished his drink and was half-way through his croissant.

“I think you can breath, now,” you chuckled as he let out an embarrassed laugh and put down his snack.

“Sorry about that,” he awkwardly smiled.

“Don’t worry about it,” you assured as you sipped your hot chocolate, “you came from a modeling job in the pouring rain. Do what you gotta do.”

He nodded and began eating his croissant again.

It was a few painful beats of silence before you thought of a conversation starter. “What is it like being a model?” You took a small bite of your muffin, “It must be a lot emotionally and physically.”

He leaned his elbows on the table, “Yeah, to be honest. It’s tougher than people realize. It’s a ‘no’-type-of-world, really.” He made air-quotes with his hands.

“But I love it. Most of the time I get gigs that I enjoy, and the other models and staff are supportive and friendly.” Jimin described, smiling.

He took a quick sip of his iced-americano, “Enough about me. You’re doing alright, Y/N? After the whole party?”

You told him about how you didn’t remember much about the night of the party. He helped you fill in the gaps of what you missed. Both of you chatted about yourselves, even sharing dumb things you guys believed as kids.

Despite some brief pauses in your conversation, you both were able to laugh and enjoy each other’s company.

“Oh, how’s your anatomy class going? Last time I was there, you guys were starting a sculpting unit?” He remembered, finishing his croissant.

“It’s going well! A lot of sketching and sculpting on my time.”

“Aaah,” he understood.

You took the last sip of your hot chocolate, “Oh, speaking of the project, could you model for some of my sketches? You seem to be the perfect candidate.”

Jimin feigned an honoured expression, putting a hand to his chest then saluting you. “It would be my pleasure.”

You giggled and cheered, “Awesome! What day would work best for you?”

He took his phone out and scrolled through, what you assumed to be, his calendar. “This Saturday, so in a couple of days?”

You checked your schedule on your phone. To your relief, you were free Saturday. “Sounds great! I think my friend, Rachel, is going out that night, so we’ll have a peaceful apartment for ourselves.”

You felt your phone buzz in your hands. When you glanced down, you saw numerous texts from Rachel appear on your screen.

Rachel [4:30 pm]: hey, Kaleb’s over. He’s crying and he seems drunk. Could you come back to the apartment?

Rachel [4:30 pm]: I can’t handle him alone

Y/N [4:30 pm]: I’m out rn. You can handle Joey. He’s pretty docile when he’s drunk

Rachel [4:31 pm]: could you PLS come? You’re better at the emotional stuff

You looked up at a concern Jimin. He pointed at his own cell, indicating that he was wondering what was happening on your phone that caused your debating expression.

“Rachel is asking me to go back to the apartment because a friend is crying,” you sighed, “she thinks I’m ‘better at the emotional stuff’.”

“You should go,” he suggested, “you seemed quite worried about your friend.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he smiled. “And we’ve been here since two o’clock. I think we’ve had enough of each other.”

You both chuckled as you let Rachel know you were heading back to your apartment.

Jimin gave you a gentle hug before you left and insisted on putting both of your dishes away.

As you exited the café, you couldn’t help but savour the warm that his arms left around your waist when he hugged you. Maybe it was just the feeling of the embrace that made you blush? Or was it because Jimin was the one doing it?

.

.

Saturday came quicker than you expected. You weren’t sure if you were excited or nervous to have him over at your apartment, but you knew that your project needed sketches, and you were the only one who could do it for you.

Jimin came over around dinner time, bringing a glass of red merlot and two plastic wine glasses. You had a pre-made pizza heating up in the oven.

You both chatted for a bit before actually starting the sketching process. If it weren’t for Jimin reminding you of why he was at your apartment in the first place, who knows how long you’d two talk for.

Now, you sat on the couch, while Jimin sat on a chair in front of you.

“Tilt your head to the left—you’re left,” you chuckled as you marked the dimensions of Jimin’s face on your sketchbook.

“I’m sorry,” he giggled, “I promise that I am trying.”

You closed your sketchbook and grasped your glass of ruby wine, “Let’s take a break, shall we?”

“Thank you,” he sighed as if he’d been holding his breath for the entire half an hour you were sketching him.

You swallowed the unexpected large gulp of wine you drank, “Oh before I forget, I need to pay you…” You took out your wallet, “…how does thirty-five dollars sound?”

“You don’t need to pay me, Y/N,” Jimin said while taking a sip of his wine, “you’re giving me dinner. That’s more than enough.”

You put the money back in your wallet and shrugged, “Whatever you say.”

He chuckled as the oven chimed, letting you both know the pizza was ready.

“I’ll get that,” you said as while getting off the couch.

As you were slicing up the pizza, Jimin sat at the kitchen island attentively. You handed him a slice, that he took with great pleasure.

“So,” he began with a mouthful of pepperoni, “why sculpting? Not many people do it nowadays.”

You took a bite of your own slice, chewing on the question. “Well, I like studying the human body—” You stopped mid-sentence when you saw his cheeky smirk.

“Hey, get your mind out of the gutter!” You blushed, jokingly punching at him. Your embarrassment made him laugh.

“Anyways,” you resumed, taking a sip of your wine, “I wanted to learn more about the anatomy and workings of the human body, so I could get better at sculpting. Then, I could hopefully teach a class someday.” You waved your glass in the air, “You know, become an art teacher.”

Jimin’s slow clap made you roll your eyes and give a sly smirk.

“Thank you, but you can stop with the patronizing claps.” You bowed, holding up your glass in a makeshift cheer.

When he stopped clapping you took another slice of pizza. “So, Mr. Model, what’s it like being in the industry?”

“Well, when you say it like that, you make it sound like I’m a porn star,” he chuckled while finishing his second slice of pizza.

You chuckled with him, “Your words, not mine.”

Jimin gave you a playful smirk, “You’d be the first one to watch.”

You put your hands up in a mock-surrender, “No comment.”

You both shared a moment of laughter before Jimin let a sigh.

“It’s good. I’ve learned to build up my confidence. It’s tough making friends, but you find the small pockets of gold, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s a bitch to date though. There’s always someone who’s prettier than you, and they don’t mind letting you know.”

“I feel that,” you held a fist to your chest, “on a spiritual level.”

Jimin laughed at your joke, finishing his glass of wine. You went to refill it, but he covered it with his hand. “I’m all good, thanks.”

You gave a shy grin before putting the bottle down on the counter.

“I’m sorry about the whole relationship thing.” You made brief eye contact with him before continuing, “Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong place?”

“I guess so,” he shrugged, not seeming to want further the subject.

“We should get back to the sketching,” Jimin proposed, getting off the kitchen stool, “you’ll need more for your project, right?”

“Y-yeah,” you agreed, following him back to the living room.

  It had been a couple of months since you and Jimin started talking. It had become a regular occurrence for him to come over to your apartment. Sometimes, for the sketches, you needed for your project, but it was usually to chat over wine.

You eventually introduced Jimin to the rest of your friends. Rachel wasn’t shocked that you two got along well; Joey went into ‘dad-mode’ where he sat between you two whenever the opportunity arose; Kaleb and Jimin were the becoming best buds, and Jason was just happy to have another guy around.

Nonetheless, your whole friend group enjoyed Jimin’s company. So much so, that Rachel proposed that Jimin tag-a-long on the group’s ‘Friday Friend Day’; where you guys go out for food, drinks or have a game’s night.

For this ‘Friday Friend Day’, your group was going bowling. You weren’t too sure if Jimin would want to tag along, because you know how competitive Joey and Rachel can be; but he was overjoyed with the invite.

  “I can’t believe Rachel and the others couldn’t come with us,” You chuckled while you and Jimin moved to the side to wait for your food, “the McDonald’s is only a block, how hard is it to walk!”

“Well, I think Rachel is still calling Joey a ‘sore winner’ after last game,” Jimin suggested, leaning against the wall.

“He is!”

“We won fair and square! We beat you guys by a mile!” Jimin defended.

“You three boys suggested guys vs. girls, knowing we were way outnumbered.” You retorted, moving a step closer.

“Because girls are tougher than they look, so we thought you and Rachel would’ve knocked us out of the park.”

You looked him up and down before smiling, “Good answer.”

“But you two still lost,” Jimin playfully jabbed.

You jokingly punched him, making him feign a painful expression.

Both of you waited for the takeout, talking about Jimin’s upcoming modeling jobs and how your sculpting project was going.

You could feel butterflies rising from the bottom of your stomach as you two walked back to the bowling place; the paper takeout McDonald’s bag swinging at your side as Jimin reminisced about his childhood.

You felt at utter peace with yourself walking with Jimin by your side. The smell of deep-fried chicken nuggets, and the after taste of Oreos from the McFlurry Jimin fed you every now and then. You watched as steam left his mouth as he talked. Both of you laughed as you two pretended to smoke like two children.

“Hey,” you said, struggling to swallow that mouthful of Oreo McFlurry Jimin just gave you, “I know when we talked about this before, you changed the subject, but—”

You swallowed. “Is it tough dating while being a model?”

His eyes darted between you and the sidewalk in front of both of you. He appeared to still be hesitant about the subject.

Did someone hurt him? You hypothesized. A person on the job? Another model?

“We don’t have to talk—”

“It’s like I said before,” he gentle spoke, “it’s just people are more focused on looks, or who’s the most famous.”

You two stopped at the lights, waiting for the crossing signal to appear.

“I dated this person. They seemed to like me—a lot, actually.” He sighed. “And then I found out that they cheated on me. With a new upcoming model. And I broke up with them.”

The crossing sign beamed brightly, and the chime let you two know to start crossing the intersection.

“So now I’m doing jobs here and there, and sticking to people outside of the modeling industry,” he glanced at you and then smiled, “and look where it’s gotten me. In-in a good way, of course.”

You couldn’t help but smiled as he continued, “And I guess I haven’t found the right person to date.”

You turned your head towards him, “Yet.”

His eyes raced to yours. “Hm?”

“Yet,” you repeated, “You haven’t found the right person to date yet.”

He nodded, “Yeah. I guess so.”

.

.

You were pulling an all-nighter at your school’s studio, trying to finalize your sculpture of a head. You would be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t frustrated beyond belief. The proportions looked off, the sculpture was supposed to resemble Jimin but looked nothing like him, and you felt like you were cramming a project that needed more time.

Music blasted through your headphones. Thee familiar burning sensation behind your eyes made you scoff at yourself. A hot tear fell down your cheek, and you used the back of your hand to wipe it.

“Fuck,” you muttered, getting up to wash your hands.

The water and soap against your hands burned slightly, but you didn’t care. The sponge against your skin felt like sandpaper, but you took the pain as if you deserved it. You were mad and ashamed of yourself, for how long it was taking you to even start your sculpture.

The art exhibit, for the sculptures created in Mr. Heinz’s class, was in a month. The pressure was on, and boy could you feel it.

And you weren’t the only one feeling it. You separated yourself from your group slowly to work on your clay model—the one that started off as Jimin’s head but was now a grey mushy pile. Rachel had invited you to ‘Friday Friend Day’ countless times; even saying that she didn’t tell Jimin, because she thought he was the reason why you suddenly ditched the group.

But it wasn’t. It was deeper than that. It was the fact you didn’t feel you could accomplish anything creatively, despite the three-month work timeline Mr. Heinz gave you and the class. No matter how many sketches of Jimin you drew, or the nights you spent molding clay to just destroy it.

You leaned against the counter, facing the grey pile of mush on the table. You wanted to throw the clay against the wall, flip tables, and scream at the top of your lungs. But you just stood there, wiping your hands with paper towels, staring at your ruined sculpture.

You heard your phone chime across the room. You tossed your used paper towels in the rubbish and check your cell.

Jimin [1:06 am]: how tf do you open this door?

Y/N [1:06 am]: ???

Jimin [1:07 am]: the door into the art building? Am I at the wrong place?

Y/N [1:07 am]: what?

Jimin [1:09 am]: I think it’s the art building? There’s a massive mural of a forest on the side?

Y/N [1:10 am]: wtf??! Why are you at my school?

Jimin [1:12 am]: can you just let me in? I’ll explain when I’m out of the cold

You tucked your phone into your back pocket and grabbed Mr. Heinz’s keys to the studio and school doors.

When you reached the front doors, you were surprised to see Jimin waiting with a pizza box and one litre of Sprite. A smile appeared on his face as you approached.

You unlocked and opened the retractable gate with a confused expression and opened the front door. You continued to look confused and laughed in astonishment as you closed the door and the gate.

“Why are you here?” You chuckled and check your phone, “At 1:25 am?”

Jimin followed you back to the studio. “I haven’t seen you for a while.” He admitted. “And I know you like pizza when working.”

“How did you know that I was here?” You asked as you two turned the corner to the studio.

Jimin sighed, as if disappointed in himself, “Rachel told me.”

“She wasn’t supposed to say anything,” you muttered opening the door to the studio.

“What?” Jimin was behind you, pizza and Sprite still in hand.

You made a ‘tsk’ sound. “We can’t have food in the studio, we’ll have to eat in the hallway.”

You pointed to the spot beside the door, “Just wait here while I get some paper towels.”

“Okay,” he said with a mock surrender.

When you came back, Jimin was promptly sitting on the flow with the pizza and soda in front of him. With him looking up at you, for a change, he seemed so-so—soft.

“Here,” you passed Jimin a couple of paper towels and sat down beside him.

You two ate in silence. The only sound was the chewing of pizza, and one of you sipping from the bottle of Sprite. It was like both of you were waiting for someone to start the conversation.

“Why did you stop hanging out with the crew?”

“Excuse me?”

“You,” Jimin finished of his slice of pizza, “stopped coming to ‘Friday Friend Day’ all of sudden and spending all your time here,” he waved his arms in the air, gesturing to the entirety of the art building.

“Well, here,” you mimicked his previous actions, “is where I’m trying to finish my sculpture due next month.”

“I’m sure you’ll get it done—”

“Well, I haven’t so far—”

“I think you just need a break—”

“I don’t have time for a break!” You exclaimed, immediately regretting the volume of your voice.

Jimin took a gulp of the Sprite, leaving a bit for you to finish. He held it out to you, and you gladly took it. Both of you sat in quiet for five minutes. You needed to calm down, and Jimin, seemed, to be thinking something good to say.

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be,” Jimin assured.

You nodded, not saying anything. Until now, you could feel his shoulder against yours, and your knee against his thigh. His hands were just close enough for you to reach.

“I’m just stressed about the sculpture,” you sighed as if letting a one hundred pounds off your chest. “And I don’t know if I’m going to get it finished. I haven’t had any progress with what I’ve gotten done—and it always ends up getting tossed out and restarted.”

“I know, it takes time,” he sympathized, turning his body towards you.

“But you don’t know,” you deflected, feeling your eyes burn, “you don’t know what it feels like to not know if you’re going into a dying industry, and not feeling good enough to keep it alive.”

Jimin pursed his lips and tried to speak, but you continued.

“E-Every time I go into that studio—” You stuttered, trying your best to wipe the tears starting to fall down your face. “I get reminded of how much of a failure I am.”

“Hey,” Jimin pulled you into his side, wrapping a hand around your frame.

Your head rested against his chest. You could smell his oaky cologne on his clothes.

“I-I am sorry—” You apologized, feeling guilty and attempted to pull away from him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he soothed, gently nudging you back to rest on his chest, “you don’t have to move.”

You nodded and leaned on Jimin’s shoulder. His arm shifted to your waist.

Jimin wiped one of your tears with the sleeve of his sweater. You lifted your head to face his.

When his eyes met yours, you realized how close he was to you. You couldn’t help but dart your eyes to his lips before looking back at him.

Then, without a second thought, you moved in closer and kissed his lips. You could taste the saltness of your tears and his lip balm.

Jimin seemed to be surprised at first, but then his hand rested gently against the back of your head; pulling your face even closer this his. The kisses turned into a sort of urgency, and you could feel the hot air from each other’s noses on your faces.

When you both pulled away from each other, exchanging heavy breaths, you giggled. Jimin had your lipstick on his swollen lips. You tried to rub some of it off with a swipe of your thumb, but it made no difference.

“Fuck,” Jimin breathed, smirking slightly.

You woke up in the morning, next to Jimin. At first, you gazed at his face as he rested.

When his eyes fluttered awake, you quickly closing your eyes and pretending to be asleep.

You heard him sigh, “Wow, that sucked.”

Your eyes shot open and he laughed, “I knew you were faking it!”

Both you laughed as you slapped his shoulder.

He brought you into a warm embrace, and you two chatted into each other’s arms.

The events of last night were like the after taste of wine in your mind. The way he opened the door and pushed your against it to close it, kissing your lips and chuckling. How he complimented every flaw on your body as he slipped off your clothing.

The feeling of his lips tracing your frame. How he made you cum against his mouth, screaming his name. You could remember the sweet nothings he whispered into your ear as he rolled his hips against yours.

All his movements were tender and gentle as if he was afraid to break you.

The aftercare was the best part, though. While you laid on the bed, exhausted from the supposed ‘third round’, Jimin wiped your core with a damp cloth and heated up the shower for you. In the shower, you two giggled as you gave each other feedback about the sex you two had. Of course, soap got into Jimin’s eye and you suppressed your laughter as he cursed and tried to get the shampoo out of his eyes.

Before getting into bed, he had given you one of his shirts to sleep in. When he saw that the end of his shirt fell midway down your thigh, he smiled. His arms opened up and you excitingly ran into them. You remembered cuddling with him until you both fell asleep to each other’s calm breaths.

Despite this romantic, almost special, the time you spent together, nothing arose from it. After you got ready the next day and left his loft, you both didn’t mention what happened.

Jimin treated you normally and you reciprocated the same attitude.

Rachel knew something was odd, but you didn’t want to talk to her about the sex you and Jimin had. You were private about it and felt like it wasn’t too serious. You didn’t want to create drama within your friend group, and just wanted things to be back to what they were.

You and your friend group still hung out on Fridays, and you and Jimin didn’t ignore each other. However, whenever the opportunity of completing your figure came about, you took it.

Eventually, you finished your sculpture for the art exhibit. It was a flexed torso, slightly bent forward to show the spine restricting against the back’s skin. When you were sanding it, you realized it was Jimin’s torso that you had subconsciously sculptured.

From memory, and feeling, you had recreated his torso through clay. As you set it on the cart to be taking to the show, you deeply hoped that no one would recognize it was his; and that he wouldn’t point it out.

.

.

“You didn’t have to come over, Rach,” you sighed, opening the door to see Rachel with a bottle of red wine.

Rachel rolled her eyes, “Of course I would come over. You need all the support you can get.” She walked in and took off her heels.

She wore a white suit with matching shoes. Under the suit jacket was only a vest, which plunged to about enough to show off her breast. Her hair was put into a slick ponytail, which swung as she strutted to your kitchen and opened the bottle of wine.

“So, where’s the dress?” Rachel asked while pouring two glasses of wine.

You scratched the back of your neck, “I don’t know, Rach, I’m not one for tight dresses…”

Rachel shook her head. “Just put on the dress and the shoes and come back out here.”

“Okay,” you sighed, retreating to your bedroom.

The dress was a dark raven, with off the shoulder sleeves and a figure-fitting silhouette. The neckline plunged to the tops of your breasts. You wore gold jewelry, matching black stilettos, and a clutch. Your hair was pinned back by two clips on the sides of your forehead.

When you came out of your room, Rachel hollered. You blushed as you gave a little twirl for her, holding your arms out like a ‘T’. She whistled as you walked towards her.

She held out your glass of wine. “That deserves a cheers.”

You grasped the glass and clinked it against hers. “Cheers, Rach.”

You two downed your red liquor, winced because you’re not supposed to drink wine in one go, and headed to the art exhibit like the stunning women you two were.

  The exhibit was filled with students and guests. Everyone was dressed formally, with girls wearing striking dresses and boys in tuxedos. Everyone was sipping on non-alcoholic beverages and bite-sized snacks while observing the beautiful works by talented students.

Rachel was a sculpture of her head with snacks coming out of it.

“Medusa?” You asked, pleased.

She nodded and fist-bumped you. “Yes! You like it?”

“I love it,” you replied, finishing off your mini cucumber sandwich.

Joey, Kaleb, and Jason came to support you and Rachel, in black tuxedos. They were surprised by how well your sculptures turned out.

Joy, the ‘dad’ of the group, pointed out the torso you sculpted.

“Who’s that?”

You looked at him confused. “Hm?”

“The torso.” He leaned closer to the sculpture, crossing the barrier around it with his head.

“That ain’t mine,” He looked at Kaleb and Jason, “and definitely not theirs. None of us have defined washboard abs…”

Joey’s expression turned into one of horror, “Who did you fuck?!”

You shushed him, covering his mouth with your hand. His eyes were wide as if he just walked on his child.

“None of your business!” You hissed, looking around at the faces who gave both of you judgemental looks.

“Y/N—”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You snapped, walking away from Joey and heading to the snack bar.

You took some small sandwiches and stood in a corner somewhere, far away from the crowd of people in the exhibit. You could hear your heavy breaths as you shoved the sandwiches into your mouth, trying to calm yourself down and forget about the night you had with Jimin.

It shouldn’t be such a big deal for you. You had nothing established with Jimin. You liked him, that was for sure, but nothing could’ve escalated from that. The two of you were friends and would stay like that.

But you couldn’t help but think of how needy his kisses were. Like, as if he had been waiting for you to kiss him, to make a move. How happy he seemed the morning after. You couldn’t fake the affection you two exchanged.

You looked up at the ceiling, thinking of how ridiculous you must’ve looked alone in the corner stuffing your mouth with mini cucumber sandwiches.

“I think you can breathe, now,”

You turned around to see Jimin with his hands in his suit’s pockets. His hair was parted on the side, effortlessly voluminous and stylish. He had a dangling earring in his right and a stud in his left. He looked luxurious. And you were slightly annoyed.

You swallowed your mouthful, “You look great.”

“I would say the same for you, but I think that would be an understatement.” He approached you and appeared to look you up and down briefly.

You looked at the sandwich in your hand. “You want the last one?”

He shrugged, “Sure.”

As he ate the sandwich in one bite, you wiped the crumbs off your mouth and reapplied your lipstick.

Jimin dusted the crumbs off his hands and held out his arm. “M’lady?”

You blushed and took his arm.

You showed him the art in the exhibit, giving little details about the students who had created the sculptures. Jimin seemed to be taking it all in, nodding and stepping closer to look at the art.

It felt normal. You two chatted normally, like before. But you’d be lying if everyone ounce of your body wanted to scream at him and ask why nothing happened after that morning.

Don’t create drama. You ordered yourself. He probably doesn’t want to talk about it anyways.

“Is that-?” Jimin pointed at your sculpture. “Me?”

You chuckled and rubbed the back of your neck. “Y-yeah.”

He stayed silent, and you jumped to fill it.

“I-I should’ve probably asked you about it, to be honest. It’s probably not the best to sculpt someone’s bare torso and display it in front of the public—”

“It’s amazing,” he awed.

You looked at him ins shock, the thought of him being stunned by your work suddenly washed away the thought and anger towards that night.

“Thank you,” you smiled, “that actually means more than you realize.”

You two smiled at each other for a moment, drinking in each other’s faces.

“I know we haven’t talked about that night,” he began.

The rest of his sentence was muffled by the rushing back of irritation and hurt from before. The self-doubt and realization of the difference between you two.

“I’m going to get Rachel,” you started walking away, but he grabbed your arm.

“Why?”

You looked at his grip on your arm and then at his face. “S-so she could show you her sculpture.”

You ripped your arm out of his grasp and walked towards Rachel, leaving Jimin confused.  

When you approached Rachel, who was chatting with Joey, she looked concerned. “Y/N? What’s up?”

“I ate too many of those sandwiches, I’m feeling sick.”

Her face grew more worried. “Oh my God, do you need us to come back with you?”

You shoed that idea with your hand, “It’s alright. Stay here,” you feigned a convincing smile, “you deserve it! Your sculpture is amazing.”

She rubbed your arm sympathetically. “Thank you, Y/N. Are you sure, though?”

“One hundred percent.”

“Are you sure, sure Y/N?” Joey interjected, his eyes examining your face for any sign of you lying.

You rolled your eyes and playfully pushed his shoulder, “Yes, father. I’m fine.”

He pouted at your response, “I’m not your father.”

“Then stop acting like it,” you giggled, walking away and out of the exhibit.

You took the bus home, holding back tears of frustration towards yourself and Jimin.

To be honest, you didn’t know why you really wanted to cry or why you were mad at Jimin anymore. Maybe you were madder at yourself, at this point?

When you opened your front door, the tear burst from your eyes and sobs stormed out of your mouth in desperate cries of pain. As you leaned against the door, you felt your body struggle to gain propositional breaths and the taste of salt from your tears in your mouth.

You threw your clutch against the closet across from you and took off your stilettos. You didn’t care if the neighbours heard your frustrated screams and sobs. It had been forever since you cried your frustration and exhaustion out of your body.

You felt the cold tile against your feet as you walked to the bathroom to take off your makeup. You looked at yourself in the mirror, ashamed to see your mascara running down your face and mixing with your satin lipstick. It looked like someone had dumped a bucket of water on your face.

Your limbs felt heavy with sadness as you washed your face of makeup. You hated crying. It made you feel weak and vulnerable. The last thing you wanted was to be the girl who cried about everything.

Before leaving the bathroom you looked into your puffy red eyes using the mirror and gave yourself a peace-sign. You chuckled at yourself. Jesus, I look like a mess.

You changed out of your dress and into a baggy shirt and shorts. Your bed felt like a safe haven around you. Whatever had bothered you felt more like a hum as you wrapped the blankets around your body and quickly sobbed.

You retrieved your laptop from your bedside table and opened Netflix; the solution to all your problems.

In the middle of one of your favourite TV shows, your telephone rang.

The displayed showed that buzzer to the apartment building was paging your apartment. You answered the call, thinking it was Joey checking on you.

“Y/N?” Jimin’s voice echoed on the other end of the line.

Shit.

You sniffled and cleared your throat, “Yeah?”

“Are you okay? You left all of a sudden.” You could hear the genuine worry in his tone.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

A quick pause, then him making a ‘tsk’ sound. “Is it because of me mentioning the night we had sex?”

You held the bridge of your nose, “Jimin, I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Is this why you’ve been upset for the past month?”

An uncomfortable tension sat between you two.

“What am I to you?”

“Jimin—”

“Are we just friends? Are we friends who just have sex? Are we more than friends? Do you want to be more than friends?”

“Jimin, I don’t want to—”

“We need to talk about this, Y/N.” Jimin insisted. “Either through this intercom or in person.”

“I don’t know why we need to talk about this, “ you huffed, sitting up in your bed, “it doesn’t matter.”

“It does!” He suddenly exclaimed. “You’re clearly bothered by it and I want to know why! It may not matter at all to you, but it does to me! So at least give me a moment to ask you what the hell is up and why we didn’t talk about it for a month.”

You stayed silent, stunned by his unexpected outburst.

“Okay,” you meekly replied, pressing ‘one’ on your keypad. The call ended with a loud beep, letting you know that he was allowed into the apartment building.

   You two sat across from each other at the dining table, fiddling with the stems of your wine glasses. When you let Jimin, who was still in his tuxedo, into the apartment, you two exchanged quick greetings and you gestured to the table for both of you to sit down and chat.

Now, it was a game of chicken, to see who would start the conversation.

“I enjoyed that night, by the way,” Jimin broke the silence, looking at his wine glass.

You cleared your throat. “I did too.”

“Then why didn’t we talk about it?” He glanced at you before looking back at his glass and chuckling. “Like, if we both enjoyed it so much, shouldn’t we at least mention it?”

“I thought you didn’t enjoy it,” you replied.

He made eye contact with you. “Why?”

You shrugged, “I was waiting for you to say something about it, I don’t know.”

Jimin took a sip of his wine before admitting, “I was waiting for you to say something.”

You both kind of chuckled at each other’s misunderstanding.

“But it’s deeper than that, isn’t it?” He proposed, furrowing his eyebrows. You didn’t answer, so he continued, “I see it when we hang out. Like—something is holding you back. Like something is telling you that what we’re doing is wrong, even if it’s just talking about why curly fries are better than regular ones.”

You giggled at the last part of his sentence, remembering that conversation that you two had.

“So what is it?” Jimin peered into your face.

You found your throat was closing up, and your eyes were burning. You quickly looked up at the ceiling to prevent yourself from crying, but it came to no avail.

“I like you, Jimin,” you breathed. “I like you a lot, but I know we can’t be together.”

“What do you mean—”

“You’re hot!” You held out your arms, gesturing to his figure. “You’re a model, in fact. And me? I’m a struggling art student who isn’t pretty enough to date a model. You can’t be interested in me. It physically doesn’t make any sense.”

You were almost sobbing. “And I hate how I keep falling for you! It’s impossible not to! You’re beautiful on the inside and out, and I don’t even know how that’s possible.” You both chuckled at you complimenting at him while you cry your heart out.

“I just—”

“Can I say something?” He asked, and you nodded gratefully because you were embarrassed about the amount of crying you were doing in front of him.

“First of all, thank you,” he said, making you laugh, “also, I don’t care what you think about your looks. The reason why like you is that you’re a whole different person compared to all those arrogant good-looking models I work with—thank God.”

Jimin got up and sat next to you, grasping your hands in his. “When I hang out with, and your friends, it’s refreshing. I love every single moment of it.”

He wiped the tears on your cheek. “And I love every moment I spend with you. I was ecstatic when you kissed me that night. Not only was it hot that you made the first move, but I had been waiting to do it myself.”

He rested his forehead against yours, making you giggle. “And most of all, you need to not be afraid to talk to me. In order for this, or anything to work, you need to speak your mind and let people know how you’re feeling.”

Jimin chuckled as he pulled away to face you. “Of course, with reason. Don’t call people ‘shits’ even if they deserve it.”

You laughed, again, and wiped your tears as he continued, “There are people, including myself, who would want to hear what’s up with you. Why you’re upset, why you’re crying, because we care.”

He grasped your face. “And as some people say, ‘be your first cheerleader’. You’re more amazing than you think. I know it, Rachel knows it, Joey, Jason, and Kaleb know it. It’s your turn to know, too.”

You leaned against his hand, holding it with your own. “Have you ever thought of being an inspirational counselor?”

 You both laughed and Jimin brought you into a hug.

“But you registered what I said, right?” He confirmed.

You nodded against his shoulder. “Yes.”

He pulled away from you, only to kiss you passionately on the lips.

“Can I take you out on a date?” He mumbled against your mouth.

You only hummed in response, unbuttoning his suit jacket, which he hastily took off. His hands traveled up your shirt and found their way to your breast.

“Fuck, no bra?”

“I’m in my home, of course, I took off my bra,” you murmured against his lips, helping him take off his button-up shirt.

“Touché,” he replied, running his thumb over your nipple, which made you shiver with pleasure.

Jimin helped you take off your top, throwing it somewhere on the floor. He kissed down your neck, leaving specks of purple, before sucking on one of your nipples.

You moaned at the feeling and arched your back, leaning into his mouth. He swirled his tongue around your nipple before taking it in your mouth again.

“Jimin—”

“Yes, kitten?”

The new nickname made arousal pool in your underwear.

He looked up at you, waiting for your answer.

You bit your lip. “Don’t stop,” you sighed.

He smirked before resuming his action while messaging your other breast. You grasp the back of his head, enjoying the feeling of his face against your breast.

His hand moved up your thigh, reaching the edge of your shorts. His fingertips skimmed your sides before grazing your clothed core. Your body flinched into his hand before pushing against it, urging him to do more.

“You like that?” He asked coyly, apply pressure on your clothed clit.

You gently rubbed yourself against his hand and moaned.

Jimin grasped your face and kissed your lips hungrily while circling your core with his index and middle finger. You moaned against his mouth as his fingers and your hips slowing heated up your core.

You felt almost come undone, but he pulled his hand and lips away from you.

He must’ve realized your annoyed expression because he was chuckling.

“Can I carry you to your room?” Jimin glanced at your bedroom’s door then back at you.

You kissed him lovingly on the lips before opening your arms, allowing him to grasp anywhere on your body to lift you.

Jimin smiled and hosted you up against his torso with his hands under your thighs. You wrapped your arms the back of his neck, reconnecting your lips with his gently. You felt him slightly struggling to get up from your seat, and you softly pulled away from his face.

You giggled, “I can walk to my own room,”

He made a ‘psssh’ noise, “You’re light as a feather. There’s no need,”

You shrugged and began kissing him again, making you both chuckle against each other’s lips.

When Jimin enters your room with you in his arms, he closed the door by pushing your back against it. You let out a surprised gasp as he kissed your neck, before twirling you around to your bed.

He placed you softly on your bed, placing his hands on either side of your head and peering at you. Jimin just gently smiled at you for a moment, his eye looking into yours.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” he sighed.

You burst into laughter, curling onto your side for a moment before looking back at his offended face.

“What?” He laughed.

“That is about the cheesiest thing you could say right now!” You exclaimed, propping yourself up with your elbows.

“Well, sorry if I was trying to make it a moment.” Jimin rolled his eyes, standing up taller putting hands on his hips.

“Hey, hey,” you got up on your knees to meet him face to face, “it was cute.”

You kissed him, hoping to resume the atmosphere from before. He was stiff at first but melted and began moving his lips rhythmically against yours.

Jimin gently pushed you away from him, causing you to bounce back on the bed.

He started unbuckling his belt, “I think I’ll have to punish you for making fun of me, kitten,”

“What are you doing to do, daddy?” You sarcastically moaned, imitating the pornstars.

Jimin paused for second as he was about to take off his pants. “That was kind of hot.”

You rolled your eyes, “Just fuck me already.”

He winked at you before removing his pants and crawling on top of you. He left open-mouthed kisses down your neck and the valley of your breast, before stopping at the brim of your underwear. He looked up at you as he hooked his fingers around the sides of your underwear.

“Please,” you quietly pleaded.

Jimin smirked before pulling down your underwear to reveal your pussy dripping with arousal.

He blew a gust of air against your core, making you flinch with pleasure. “So wet for me,” he observed, “I bet I could just fill you up right now.”

You urged your core closer to his face, but he only left kisses on your thigh. His hands massage the inner parts of your upper leg but never touching where you need it most.

When you let out a desperate whine, he kissed your clit. Your hips jutted forward as he began kitten lick your clit.

Jimin lavishes at your core, laying his flat tongue against you. He slowly pushes a finger into you, and you feel yourself clench around it. You feel him groan against you, send a vibration through your pelvis. You look down and make eye contact with him.

All you see is from his nose up, from how buried he is against you. Every now and then, you see his tongue work against your clit, and his finger disappears in you. He’s drinking you up like wine and savouring every single moan you make underneath him.

One finger turns into two, and you find yourself almost shaking. Your hands are a mixture of pulling him close and pushing him away. His hands grip your thighs, preventing you from closing them.

“J-Jimin,” you choke, feeling your fluids rush out of you.

When he’s done licking you dry, he looks up at you and wipes his mouth.

“Thank you,” he simply says before connecting his lips with yours.

You can taste your arousal on his tongue while you kiss him.

You begin to pull down his boxers and flip him over onto the bed. You’re straddling him, now, and your hand moves languidly up and down his shaft. He hisses at the feeling and puts a hand on yours.

“Tonight’s about you,” he took your hand off of his penis and kissed it tenderly.

“But I want to make you feel good,” you purred, taking your hand out of his grasp and putting it back where it was.

He sighed as if he let you do something he didn’t want you to do, “Alright,”

You rolled your eyes and shifted your position. You straddled one of his thighs and began rubbing his cock. You moaned at the sensation of his thigh against your naked core. You could see your clear fluid on his leg as you moved at the filthy sounds it made in the air.

“Fuck,” Jimin muttered with blushed cheeks, “you look so hot right now.”

“T-thanks,” you mustered, about to come undone again.

Jimin stopped your hand from moving, making you stop your movements. You slowed down your breaths and looked at him with confusion.

“I’m really enjoying this—” He tried to catch his breath. “—but, to be honest, I’d rather cum inside you.”

Your eyes widen at the word ‘cum’ leaving his mouth. You felt a sudden wave of stimulation awake in your core, making you lean forward slightly.

Jimin smirked, recognizing that you were being turned on. “Would you like that?” He leaned to your ear, and whispered, “For me to cum inside you?”

You whimpered at his words, nodding your head.

He suddenly flipped your over onto your back. His body was close enough for you to feel his warmth, but his body was touching yours.

His hands grazed against the sides of your thighs, opening your legs so he hips could fit between them.

As Jimin was about to thrust into you, you put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“Condom,” you realized, pointing to your bedside table, “the second drawer.”

“Right,” he nodded, agreeing with you.

“Wait,” you got up from underneath him, opening the drawer yourself and fetching the condom, “can I put it on you?”

“Sure,” Jimin smiled.

You opened the small square package carefully and unwrapped the condom onto Jimin’s hard member. He slightly flinched at your feathery touches, probably from being aroused.

“You want to do this?” You asked.

“More than anything,” he assured.

“You?”

“More than anything,” you replied, leaning on your back.

Jimin hovered over you. You two made heartfelt eye-contact.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed as he spread your legs gently.

“I love,” he began as he sunk into you, “the way you feel around me.”

You could feel yourself clench around his thick cock. He fit perfectly inside you, filling up every crevice you had.

Jimin pulled out of you, letting his tip stay inside of you, then snapped his hips against you. His thrusts were slow, making sure to fill you up every time. The heels of your feet rested on his lower back, almost pushing him back into you.

“Fuck,” he grunted.

“F-faster, please,” you requested as he began to pound into you.

“You. Feel. So. Good.” He emphasized with each thrust.

“Same to you,” you choked.

Jimin lifted your legs so your knees were closer to the sides of your head. The new position made each of his thrusts hit your g-spot. You became a moaning mess as he plowed into you, and the room was filled with the filthy noises of your core.

“I’m close—” You mumbled.

“Same—” Jimin replied.

In a matter of seconds, you felt your arousal come out of you, dripping onto the sheets. You could feel his spirits of warm cum in the condom inside you.

Jimin fell onto his side to prevent himself from collapsing onto you.

“Fuck,” you said out of breath.

He chuckled and got out of bed. You propped yourself onto your elbow to see where he was going.

Jimin went to your bathroom and dumped the spoiled condom in the rubbish bin. He grabbed a hand towel from your bathroom counter and dampened it with water. When he came back to the bed, he wiped you core softly, smirking at your flinches from oversensitivity.

“Thank you,” you sighed as Jimin tossed the towel into your sink and laid next to you.

He pulled the covers over your naked bodies and pulled your body against his. Your head rested on his chest, and his head was atop yours.

“That was better than the other night,” you admitted, making you both giggle.

“It sure was,” he agreed, chuckling.

You snuggled into the warmth of his chest, and you felt his strong arms wrap around your body.

Your eyes began to feel heavy, and Jimin must’ve been looking at you because he gently pulled away from you.

“Are you falling asleep?”

“Hm?” You sluggishly looked at him and wiped your eyes. “Maybe.”

He giggled, “You’re adorable.”

You only hummed at began closing your eyes again.

“Before you nod off,” he kissed your lips to wake you up, “are you alright to go on a date this coming Friday?”

“I’d love to,” you grinned, connecting both of you lips in a tender kiss.

He smiled, his eyes turning into sideways crescents, “Okay, now you can sleep.”

You cuddled back into him again, and you felt his head rest on top of yours.

Just as you felt sleep start settle into your body, you heard the front door open.

“Y/N!” Rachel’s voice echoed through the apartment.

“Oh my God,” you heard Joey’s voice whisper in shock, “is Jimin here?!”

You pulled away from Jimin and looked him in the eyes with slight fear.

“Do I say anything?” He whispered.

“No!” You shouted back.

“This shirt looks awfully familiar!” Joey responded.

“Calm down, Joey. Let them be.” Rachel hissed.

She cleared her throat, “Thank you, Joey, for walking me home. I’ll see you later.”

“Wait—” You heard Joey begin and then the front door shutting.

“I’m happy for you, Y/N!” Rachel cheered. “But, next time, don’t leave your clothes everywhere.”

You looked at Jimin and you both laughed.

Eventually, you both fell asleep in each other’s arms. And you couldn’t be happier.

[bloominghope]

FOR TONIGHT ( x )

Inside a Mercedes GLC Coupé, late night — or, potentially, early hours of the morning —, late September: the slow exhalations falling through parted lips. Lips that had been permanently curled upwards all Sunday long; soft smiles when eyes met and the recollections of hazy days, filled with elation, with the utmost joy, were silently shared. Crinkly-eyed grins, displaying tenderness for what once was. Slight, fleeting smirks, accompanied by the silent nudge to a leg underneath the table, so casually that it almost felt normal. 

Lips that now taste the salt, the wetness that he would have mistaken by a droplet of rain, hadn’t he been cozied up under the glimmering stars of the SUV’s roof. Refusing to acknowledge the single, oval-shaped tear making its path down his cheek, leaving a trail ( of the remnants of the past, of a heartache, of what could have been ) as it descends, won’t do anything for him. It won’t ease the heavy feeling on his head or erase how his heart plummeted down to his stomach as soon as he signaled to the right and brought the car to a halt on a, frankly appalling manner, parking spot. 

His brown eyes are shut tight, hands disappearing into the sleeves of his favorite jumper like a child’s would and he’s unspeaking. Is he aware, in the intensity of the moment, that life scurries by in all its ordinariness and vulgarity, imposing itself all around him — in the dark corner of the street where a couple is far too enthralled by the kisses they share or the late workers, speeding by the empty, well-lit streets, caring little about traffic rules and regulations. Is he aware or is he unscathed, unaffected while he glances at something deeper… His own version of life in all its glorious ugliness or maybe… glancing at something concealed, hidden underneath the layers he spent years developing, creating with his own imagination and bringing to life with a lot of hard work. 

Soft strands of brown hair stand in an unruly fashion - one going left and the other right, one swiveling up and a few others resting idly on his forehead - as a consequence of all the tugging and combing, the numerous times he ran his long fingers through it in the previous hours. Simultaneously, his backs moves, ever so unhurriedly, to gently rest against the comfort of seat and a gentle sigh bubbles out, cutting through the silence established in the car. A second, two, three… a long minute, he remains motionless. Stagnant like his life seems to be, he thinks. And then… then he’s reaching for the phone, unlocking it, staring to a background that should have been changed a year and a half away when the future became the past and the plans became memories. 3.27, he whispers, but in an act of courage ( or desperation ), he dials a number. The number that remained engraved into his memory like it was ink to the skin. No answer. He did not expect one. The green icon of the messaging app calls for his attention and without any thought he clicks it, beginning a new chat but words fail. There’s a mess of thoughts, racing and clashing, spiraling in and out his brain, and he laughs. No use for this literature degree sometimes, rushes to the forefront of his mind. He touches and holds the recording button, instead.

“Rylee—“ his voice comes out huskier than he expected, carrying out the exhaustion he hadn’t felt until now, honeyed and low like anything would break if he would raise it an octave, like he would wake her up. It throws him off. He releases the button with a frown, groaning once he equates he also sent the audio message. No point turning back now, he reasons. You might be gone in the morning anyway, the remembrance sends a shiver down his spine and the frown grows deeper. Shaking off the thoughts, he begins again, thankful she hadn’t seen - or heard - the nonsensical first message. 

“I think we’ve been done long before everything begun between us — harsh, maybe. I just mean that… in hindsight, it’s as though it was always the destiny playing a twisted joke on us. Your father has always been your father— bless him— what I mean is, you were always predestinated to be in the spotlight, the public eye, one way or another and by the time we met, I already knew I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t handle the fame. I know you have always been honest with me— you never hid the fame was unwanted but that it would be there, regardless. Yet…” He laughs, humorlessly, the sound melodious but brimming with all the hurt, the emotion. When he proceeds, his voice grows softer. “Honesty is just a game, isn’t it? Life is just a game. I knew we were done before it all begun, yet I lead us on, I continue to let it happen, because I still can’t give it up. Yesterday I couldn’t sleep until some ungodly hour, and I had to fight myself not to go and lie with you… because I knew you’d leave in the morning - or later that day - and even though I know it’s what we both wanted, I know it’s wrong to lie with you. Even if it’s all I wanna do. Even if we’re safe behind close doors and the world can’t see us or touch us. Sometimes I want to shut down the rational part of my brain and throw away every single point that proves we shouldn’t be together, that it wouldn’t stay secret or private for long. But I know it’s a Russian roulette. Did we become insensitive to what is wrong, after we saw each other at that supermarket? My mind went empty, you know? All I wanted to do was hold you and kiss you and mend everything. All I wanted to do was keep you in my arms for as long as I could. All I wanted, all I really wanted to do, was travel back in time and be so close to you that I could tell what scent you were wearing that day and it would forever be engraved in my memory, alongside every little detail of yours. Like how you relax whenever I draw my fingers up and down your arm or how you smile, no matter how pissed off you are, whenever you see me smile at you. Then, you spoke and I broke through the haze because if seeing you was enough to bring it all back, I didn’t want the rest. No longer wanted to hold you because I know the feelings would eat me up alive. Then there was this weekend and… shit…” A sniff ends the audio, the screen of the iphone lighting his face and collecting tears he hadn’t processed were falling. For now, he ignores them and holds the recording button one last time, “I love you. More than I ever realized, and to a point where the whole loving someone until it hurts quote is starting to make sense. I love you in the purest, most ridiculous of the ways, in a manner that doesn’t compare to anything else, to any other feeling. I love you to the point where just seeing you has my heart racing and hearing your name brings a smile to my lips. I love you to the point where I would happily lie with you and hold you in my arms, for the rest of my life. And I don’t think anyone or anything will ever compare. I don’t think I will ever get over you or us, I don’t think I will ever be able to take someone else to the places we used to go. Did I tell you a few months ago, I was entirely convinced I had gotten over our breakup and then, I was driving and our song— can I still call it that?— started playing and it was all it took to erase my beliefs. It’s all it takes to remind me you aren’t out of mind and to make me smile in the most stupid of the ways. I have no idea why I’m telling you this. I’ve been parked in the same spot for a while now and… just… nights are hard. Heartbreak is harder at night. And… And I’m evidently avoiding the fact there are two suitcases in the car’s boot and I have a flight to France in a few hours — and the imminent, looming issue that if I don’t take it, I’m about to be fired. Funny huh? Got a nice job overseas and I’m wallowing in self-pity over how much I love you. Is life ever this laughable? Is it always this comical… Anyway… I’ll go now, I hope I didn’t wake you up. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the job thing, I didn’t want to see your reaction because then I might just actually throw every fucking reservation away and stay with you. I know you… I know you told me you would never move on — and its rich of me to ask when I just said myself that I wouldn’t move on either — but I want you to try and be happy without me, okay? I’ll always be yours. The past eleven years of my life will always be yours. You’ll always be everything I want but I think I should really leave… I— yeah, I should leave now. I’m gonna miss my flight. I love you. Always, always, always.”