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luveline · 3 years ago

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you know, I'm coming right back [Fred Weasley x Reader]

summary: you're a lonely artist and Fred is your adoring model

word count: 2.4k

tags: reader insert, lonely reader, artist reader, seventh year, kids in love, first kiss, getting together, pining, fluff, friends-to-lovers

It was easy for you, usually, to act fine. To feel fine. Any loneliness that clouded your life was pushed firmly into the depths of your thoughts. You tried to focus on the things that mattered, essays and charms and your art.

You loved to draw. You had sketchbooks filled to the brim with sketches, some half finished, others coloured and lined. You drew everything, though you struggled to bring anything from your memory. Everything you drew had to be done right there, right then, with unsuspecting models. You sketched students eating their dinner, scribbled side profiles when you managed a spare minute in class. But you're most impressive artwork was done in the library, where nothing moved. Everyone was silent. You had pages and pages of bored, tired looking students. When exams approached, you hurriedly copied down the expressions of people on the edge of depression and panic.

You had friends, ish. You knew people. You'd had intense friendships that somehow always ended in awkward drifting aparts. Well, you thought. There must be something wrong with me. They liked me before they didn't, so the fault must've been mine.

You huffed out a sigh, pressing your face deep into the textured page of your sketch book, breathing in the smell of charcoal. You were sketching the illusive Fred Weasley, who you'd never truly drawn before. Maybe you had scraps from your second or third year when you'd still attempted to draw moving objects before getting comfortable and accepting that still life was your forte.

He was maddeningly good lucking when his eyebrows puckered in concentration. He seemed to actually be studying for once, sat at a table with his brother, George, and housemates Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

You were sat by yourself, and couldn't help listening to his lilting voice as he bantered with his friends. They were talking about Umbridge (the current victim of the Hogwarts' student body hate train), and quidditch, and their recent ban from quidditch. You'd never played.

"Watch out, dolly fell asleep," said one of the girls.

You bit your lip. You'd been nicknamed dolly by the girls in your dorm because of your porcelain doll you'd had since childhood. Even though this year was your last, you still hadn't felt the need to hide her away. She made you feel much less anxious and alone.

The whole school knew, naturally.

"Don't get any funny ideas," said Angelina, to the twins.

"Come on Angie, you think so little of us?" said George.

"Yesterday I watched you trick a group of forth years into taking puking pastilles." Angelina said.

"It was hardly a trick. We told them they were multi-faceted," said George.

You could hear your heartbeat if you focused. It was in your ears. It bump, bump, bumped.

Bump bump. You flinched, a hand settled on your shoulder quickly moved.

"Wake up, dolly. Library's closing."

You squinted up into Fred's face, head halo'd by candlelight. Lifting your head from the wooden table, you stretched your neck to the left. It clicked.

"Uh..."

"Hmm?" You prompted him, smoothing your hair behind your ears.

"You have - dirt. On your face. Here-" He said, reaching forward. You closed your eyes as he gently wiped the skin above your eyebrow.

"It's charcoal."

"What?"

"It's not dirt," you said, peaking at him through your eyelashes. "It's charcoal."

He looked mildly surprised. You shifted, hoping to cover your sketch before he caught sight of it.

It didn't matter.

"It's me. My gorgeous dolly, you've created quite the masterpiece right there, haven't you? I look vexingly handsome, of course. Thought if that's a consequence of your skill or my handsomeness is anyones guess."

You were lost for words. "Uh, quite."

"Yes, yes, quite. Say, could I keep it?"

"... You want the drawing?"

"I'd love it, if that's okay."

"I," you quickly dug your thumbnail into the paper, tearing carefully at the centre. The paper came away a little ragged and smudged. "Of course. It's yours."

He handled it with care.

The librarian jingled her little bell again.

"Thank you. So, see you?"

"Yep," you agreed.

He nodded his head and bowed out with his friends. You tried not to feel paranoid at their laughter.

You were curled up in a hidden alcove, though it was hardly hidden. Most students knew where to seek privacy in the castle. You just so happened to get there first that evening.

You were trying to sketch Fred again. It felt weird to be missing a page from your book, and weirder still that you couldn't remember his face when he wasn't right in front of you. You tried, but it kept going wrong.

When you finally managed one you liked well enough, you had accidentally ruined it with a heavy hand and the wrong shade of brown.

He looked much too brunette.

You carefully rolled your coloured pencils back up, securing the leather ties tightly so as to keep every pencil confined.

Sighing morosely, you flipped to a new page. Things got so complicated sometimes, it made you agitated. You doodled a little sad face in the corner of your page. When the one thing that you enjoyed in life started to go wrong, it set off your whole mood.

Your birthday was coming up. It had been on your mind a lot lately. You'd spend it alone. That's what you figured. Nobody would know it was your birthday, or if they did, you weren't friends now, so...

You began with an arching circle, bisecting the lines appropriately. Feeling out the familiar lines of your own face came easy, the slight upper tilt of your brows, your hair and your pursed mouth. You always looked sad in the mirror, and it showed, dotted here and there when the only thing to draw was your own face.

The rudimentary outline of a birthday cake took form. The candles were unlit.

In a fit of unhappiness, you scratched out your mouth. It was never smiling.

"What did that piece of paper ever do to you?" said a voice.

You jumped. Fred was peering down at you curiously, wringing his hands. You put your pencil between the soft cover and smashed it flat, closed.

"Hi, dolly."

"Weasley."

"Oh, not even a first name?"

"You neglected mine first," you reasoned, rolling the words. He smiled at your joking tone.

"How rude of me. Hi, Y/N," he corrected himself.

"Hi, Weasley."

He smirked.

"Anymore of me in that blessed vessel?"

"Nah. You never stand still."

"If I pose for it?" He asked. You patted the ground in front of you.

He was a lovely model. He stayed infinitely still, more still than you imagined possible for him. He sat at a 3/4ths angle, chin up but not too far, mouth tilted and eyes open.

His eyes were the one thing he couldn't keep still. You tried not to flame in the cheeks everything you'd catch his gaze on you.

You sketched fast, choosing to hatch rather than render, big swooping lines to give the illusion of a depth that wasn't really there. You would've loved to do a full render, maybe even a colour portrait, but he was beginning to look a little antsy.

You set the book on the floor to face him and pushed it into his eyesight softlt. He turned. He looked nice like that, face bent, hair falling into his eyes.

After a moment, he began scrounging through his robe pockets. He set down a box, a lighter, a pair of gloves.

Finally, he set a galleon onto the floor close to your crossed legs.

"For you," he said, smiling at your inquisitive look. "For the drawing."

"Oh, I can't accept that. And I'd like to keep this one, if it's alright."

Fred thought for a moment. "Alright, you keep it. And the galleon, too, for the one you gave me the other day."

You bit back a smile. "I can't take your money, Fred."

"I can't keep having you draw me for free. It's as valuable a service as anything else. Plus, I'm not sure if you know, but I run a lucrative business these days."

You picked up the coin, rubbing your thumb against the engravings thoughtfully. "It's hardly a service."

"A talent, then. A skill. You're very good."

You're neck almost snapped as you looked into his face, wanting to assess his expression for genuineness. He looked earnest, and kind. You blinked away the gathering heat behind your eyes.

"Thank you."

He waved a hand at you. "Think nothing of it."

"Really-" you cleared your throat, "-you're doing me a favour. I'm not good at drawing things that move."

"I'm sure you're better than you think," he said.

You shook your head, smiling smiling smiling.

"What's in the box?"

"Oh, this old thing?" Fred weighed the box in his hands. It was soft at the corners, like a simple jewelry box that you had in your trunk. He offered it to you. You opened it carefully, the lid sliding free with a shhhhh sound. Inside was an evil looking fruit pastille, a match stick and a dried up flower petal.

It felt like a very private thing to see, suddenly. Such an eclectic collection of items couldn't be random.

"The first puking pastille George and I made. Or rather, the second - the first was forcibly fed to Lee Jordan in our third year. The match stick is from my Uncle's matchbox. I never met him. And the flower was from Ginny, when she was 9." He sounded nervous.

"It's a memory box."

"I- yes. It is. Things are sometimes so miserable now, with Umbridge and you-know-who. Scary, even. I look at them when I feel like it won't ever end."

You took them in for a little while longer and then placed the lid onto the box with nimble fingers. You scratched the lid with a fingernail.

"It's nice. You're right. Things are so awful right now, it's good to have reminders of why we keep going."

"Exaclty. Dolly, can I interest you in a fruit pastille?"

"Not on your life."

"They're perfectly edible!"

"Sure, Fred."

The honest conversation you'd shared with Fred was a catalyst between you. He often came to find you, each time whining and nagging you to just sit in the library like most people do.

"What, so your housemates can throw paper balls at me?"

"They thought you were sleeping!"

A likely story, you thought. He sometimes asked you to draw him, posing with the elegance of a natural born model. It was great for you personally, you felt that you were really getting a feel for his face. Eventually, you were able to draw his face from memory, the details of his nose coming to your fingers as easily as a first year spell.

It became about capturing emotion. You could capture his likeness now without a second thought, but his emotions were much more complicated. How would you show his veiled frustration the day Umbridge kicked him off the quidditch team? Through the clenching of his jaw? The shy veins in his forehead? How did you showcase the fear when he'd come back to Hogwarts after Christmas break, through his eyes, downturned and squinting just a little?

Today, it was poorly hidden elation. "How come you're so happy?" You asked, pencil between your teeth. He grinned. You measured his face with your thumb in the air, forming an L.

"Is it a prank?"

"You're thinking too small."

"A new product?"

"Still need to go bigger!"

"Hmmm," you hummed. Measure twice, cut once. Or in your case, sketch once.

"George and I, we're gonna open a shop."

"A section at Zonko's isn't enough for you?" You asked, casually, though you were very very happy for him.

"It's going to be amazing. We're going to run it, just the two of us, and you won't catch me in these scrappy long sleeves anymore. The next time you see me, I'll be in a full suit and tie."

"The next time? Is that not tomorrow?"

Fred closed his mouth, realising his mistake. He had revealed something he hadn't intended to. "We're leaving," he confessed. "We were going to wait for our NEWTs but... Well, we won't need them. This is going to work."

"So. You're leaving today?" You asked, crestfallen.

"Hey," Fred said, rubbing a placating hand over the curve of your shoulder. "Tomorrow. During the DADA OWL. We have a plan."

"This is goodbye?"

"No! No. Not if you don't want it to be. Actually, I've been meaning to ask you something, and maybe now isn't the best time, I had this whole letter planned and I didn't want to distract you from your exams and-"

"What do you want to ask me?"

Fred straightened. "I wanted to ask - will you go out with me? Not, you don't have to be my girlfriend if it's too soon, I'd love to take you for food someplace, I was going to ask you to Hogsmeade, but when the shop officially became ours, the plans changed so fast and I didn't know if you'd still want-" you cut off his rambling.

"I'll be your girlfriend," you said.

"You will?"

"Sure, if you'll be my boyfriend," you murmured.

Fred moved the arm that had been on your shoulder to the nape of your neck. "That's a dealbreaker," he said, leaning in.

He kissed you chastely on the lips first and then pulled back to look into your face. You chased him, a moment of bravery, and opened your mouth to taste him. He was sweet, like sugar. Your sketch pad crinkled beneath you both as he pressed forward. Your chests touched, heaving.

"You're not gonna be my boyfriend?" You asked against his mouth, breathing hard.

"I'm gonna be much more than that, dolly," he said heatedly.

Your mouth was tingling. "Kiss me again?"

You gasped at the force of him, laughing. He laughed too against your lips, and the sound tickled. He gave you a multitude of short and sweet kisses before pulling away again.

He wiped the wetness from your lip with his pinky finger. "Godric, you're cute. Look how flushed you are! You're insane."

Something churned in your stomach. The butterflies had acquired a trampoline. You felt happier than you had in a very long time. "You're not half-bad yourself, Weasley."

#listened to boyfriend by big time rush while writing hahaha #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley fanfic #fred weasley #fred #fred weasly x reader #sad reader #reader insert #artist reader #fred weasley fluff #sorry for the big blocks of text tumblr has a 250 paragraph limit #why woukd they do that

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liriostigre · 3 years ago

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hey! I wanted to ask what your favorite poetry books are? I have a few but I want to read new and interesting stuff, and I trust your taste :D

hiii ♡

tbh i only started reading poetry collections like,, last year. i'm subscribed to poetryfoundation's newsletter (poem of the day) so i usually just read random poems

anyway, i'm not sure my recs could be considered new (cause i'm gonna start with Mary Oliver ♡) but feel free to message me if you want to know the themes, style, feeling (vibes, if you will) or anything you want to know about these collections. for now, i'm linking my favorite poems in each collection, i hope this helps you choose! ♡

here you go:

Dream Work —Mary Oliver (“Wild Geese.” “Dogfish.”)

Red Bird —Mary Oliver (“Summer Morning.” “Love Sorrow.”)

Blue Horses —Mary Oliver (“To Be Human Is to Sing Your Own Song.” “Loneliness.” “Little Crazy Love Song.”)

The Wild Iris —Louise Glück (“Sunset.” “Retreating Light.”)

Haruko/Love Poems —June Jordan (“On a New Year’s Eve.” “Mendocino Memory.” “Toward a City That Sings.” *under the cut)

Extracting the Stone of Madness —Alejandra Pizarnik (“Primitive Eyes.” “Summer Goodbyes.” *under the cut)

Ariel —Sylvia Plath (“Tulips.” “The Rival.”)

Prelude to Bruise —Saeed Jones (“Postapocalyptic Heartbeat.” *under the cut)

Absolute Trust in the Goodness of the Earth —Alice Walker (“Coming Back from Seeing Your People.” *under the cut)

I Must Be Living Twice —Eileen Myles (“Edward the Confessor.” *under the cut)

Teaching My Mother How To Give Birth —Warsan Shire (“Conversations About Home (at the Deportation Centre.”)

The Black Unicorn —Audre Lorde (“Hanging Fire.” “Sister Outsider.”)

Bright Dead Things —Ada Limón (“The Riveter.” “Glow.”)

Night Sky With Exit Wounds —Ocean Vuong (“Thanksgiving 2006.” “Logophobia.”)

Postcolonial Love Poem —Natalie Diaz (“Manhattan Is a Lenape Word.”)

Crush —Richard Siken (“Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out.”)

Once —Alice Walker (“So We've Come at Last to Freud.”)

“Toward a City That Sings” by June Jordan

Into the topaz the crystalline signals of Manhattan the nightplane lowers my body scintillate with longing to lie positive beside the electric waters of your flesh and I will never tell you the meaning of this poem: Just say, ‘She wrote it and I recognize the reference.’ Please let it go at that. Although it is all the willingness you lend the world as when you picked it up the garbage scattering the cool formalities of Madison Avenue after midnight (where we walked for miles as though we knew the woods well enough to ignore the darkness) although it is all the willingness you lend the world that makes me want to clean up everything in sight (myself included)

for your possible discovery

“Primitive Eyes” by Alejandra Pizarnik

Where fear neither speaks in stories or poems, nor gives shape to terrors or triumphs.

My name, my pronoun — a grey void.

I’m familiar with the full range of fear. I know what it’s like to start singing and to set off slowly through the narrow mountain pass that leads back to the stranger in me, to my own emigrant.

I write to ward off fear and the clawing wind that lodges in my throat.

And in the morning, when you are afraid of finding yourself dead (of there being no more images): the silence of compression, the silence of existence itself. This is how the years fly by. This is how we lost that beautiful animal happiness.

“Summer Goodbyes” by Alejandra Pizarnik

The soft rumor of spreading weeds. The sound of things ruined by the wind. They come to me as if I were the heart of all that exists. I would like to be dead, and also to go inside another heart.

“Postapocalyptic Heartbeat” by Saeed Jones

I. Drugged, I dreamed you a plume of ash, great rush of wrecked air through the towns of my stupor. And when the ocean in your blood went toxic, I thought fire was what we needed: serrated light through the skin, grenade in the chest—pulled linchpin. I saw us breathing on the other side of after. But a blackout is not night; orange-bottled dreams are not sleep. II. I was a cross-legged boy in the third lifetime, empire of blocks in my lap while you walked through the door of your silence, hunting knife in one hand, flask in the other. I waited for you until I forgot to breathe, my want turning me colors only tongues of amaryllis could answer for. It owned me, that hunger, tendriled its way into my name for you. III. In a city made of rain each door, a silence; each lock, a mouth, I walked daily through the spit-slick streets, harbingers on my hands in henna: there will be no after Black-and-blue-garbed strangers, they called me Cassandra. (I had such a body then.) Umbrellas in hand, they listened while they unlistened. there will be no no. after

the world will end no.

you are the reason it no. ends

you no. IV. I didn’t exactly mean to survive myself. Half this life I’ve spent falling out of fourth-story windows. Pigeons for hair, wind for feet. Sometimes I sing “Stormy Weather” on the way down. Today, “Strange Fruit.” Each time, strangers find me drawing my own chalk outline on the sidewalk, cursing with a mouth full of iron, furious at my pulse. V. After ruin, after shards of glass like misplaced stars, after dredge, after the black bite of frost: you are the after, you are the first hour in a life without clocks; the name of whatever falls from the clouds now is you (it is not rain), a song in a dead language, an unlit earth, a coast broken— how was I to know every word was your name?

“Coming Back from Seeing Your People” by Alice Walker

Coming back From seeing your people You were So wonderfully Full Of yourself.

But now You have supped With vampires They have fed Feasted On you.

They arise Bright-eyed Fit.

You alone have lost Not only Your sleep But also Your glow The luster of Affection Heart welcome Your people Sent home With you.

Beloved You must learn To walk alone To hold The precious Silence To bring home And keep the precious Little That is left Of yourself.

“Edward the Confessor” by Eileen Myles

I have a confession to make I wish there were some role in society I could fulfill I could be a confessor I have a confession to make I have this way when I step into the bakery on 2nd Ave. of wanting to be the only really nice person in the store so the harried sales woman with several toned hair will like me. I do this in all kinds of stores, coffee shops xerox shops, everywhere I go. And invariably I leave my keys, xeroxing, my coffee from the last place I am being so nice. I try so hard to make a great impression on these neutral strangers right down to the perfect warm smile I get entirely lost and stagger back out onto the street, bereft of something major. It’s really leaning too hard on the everyday. My mother was the kind of woman who dragging us into stores always seemed to charm the pants off the cashier. She was such a great person, so human though at home she was such a bitch, I mean really distant. I imitate her and I don’t do it well. She didn’t leave her wallet or us in a store. I’m just a pale imitation it is simply not my style to open the hearts of strangers to my true personhood. I hope you accept this tiny confession of what I am currently going through. And if you are experiencing something of a similar nature tell someone, not me, but tell someone. It’s the new human program to be in. It would be nice for at least these final moments if we could sigh with the relief of being in the same program with all the other humans whispering in school. I can’t quite locate the terror, but I am trying to be my mother or Edward the Confessor smiling down on you with up-praying hands. I am looking down at the tips of my boots as I step across the balcony of the church excited to be allowed to say these things. Outside my church is a relationship. On 11th street this guy and this woman are selling the woman so they can get more dope. All their things are there, rags and loaves of bread and make-up. And there was— this was incredible. Two men lying by the door of the church giving each other blow-jobs. They were sort of street guys, one black one white. I said hey you can’t do that here. They jumped up, one spit come out of his mouth. If you don’t get out of here I’ll call the cops. Don’t call the cops we’ll go, we’ll leave. That was a shock. That was more than I expected to see in a day. Something about seeing the guy spit come out of his mouth. He didn’t have to do that. I guess I scared him. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I was scared too.

#btw!!!! i'm sorry!!! SO SORRY it took me weeks to reply 🤕#hope you're having good days <3 #💌

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kodzukenscorner · 4 years ago

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Kuroo, Bokuto, Ushijima, and Iwaizumi the morning after

anon asked: Heeey~ can I request hc for Kuroo, Bokuto, Ushijima and Iwaizumi for the morning after? I'm craving fluff right now 🥺 thank you uwu P.s. you're amazing and I love your work ❤❤

a/n: suggestive content below!

wc: 1,583

✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶

Kuroo

Waking up next to Kuroo was a sight that always brought a smile to your face

The way he shoved his head between two pillow and his crazy bed head never got old to you

But what really made your heart swell was the way he always managed to snake an arm around you no matter what odd position he was sleeping in

This morning, his forearm was resting against your bare stomach as you slept on your back

You attempted to roll over to get closer to him until you felt the ache between your legs

You let out a combination of a groan and a soft whimper but it was still enough to wake up Kuroo

He picked his head up and noticed the small grimace on your face

He immediately pulled you into his arms

“What’s wrong baby?” He whispered softly while his hands gingerly caressed your face

“I’m sore Tetsu” You grumbled into his neck as you pulled him closer to you

As much as he wanted to comfort you, he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face

“I want to say sorry, but I’m not sure if I really regret it”

You lazily slapped a hand on his chest

He ignored it and just peppered kisses along your face and jaw

He simultaneously began rubbing your thighs and you could feel the tension being released

You whined when he pulled his hands away, craving his loving touch to get some of the soreness out

“How about you wait here and I’ll make us some breakfast in bed okay?”

You nodded with a small pout on your lips, telling him to hurry back

You drifted in and out of sleep until the scent of eggs wafted to your nose

You opened your eyes just in time to see Kuroo sitting himself down next you with a full plate of food

He wrapped an arm around you, bringing you in close while he fed you

Every now and again he placed a gentle kiss against your temple or your cheek, whispering soft ‘I love you’s’ each time he did

Nights with Kuroo always left you sore in the morning and as uncomfortable as you were, you loved how soft he was with you the next day

You thrived off of his unusually sweet demeanor and wished this morning would never end

Bokuto

Bokuto is 100% the cuddliest sleeper you’ve ever met

Even if you fall asleep on completely opposite ends of the bed, you always wake up with his arms wrapped tightly around you

But you can’t complain because he was also the best hugger, even in his sleep

If you even tried to move away from him he would whine and reach out for you until he found you again and you were right back where you started

Today you were particularly grateful for how closely he was holding you

The soft rise and fall of his chest helped calm you as the soreness in your entire body sunk in

Bokuto never liked causing you pain or discomfort and always felt so guilty when you woke up in the morning with any sort of ache

As you nuzzled farther into his broad chest you let out a content sigh

Soon enough you felt him start to move and stir awake

You did your best to hold him as much in place as possible, wanting more of his comforting embrace to take your mind off of the stiffness you felt all over

He fluttered his eyes opened, surprised to see you being the clingy one for once and stroked your head

“What’s wrong babe?”

You could hear the slight concern in his voice so you peeked your head up at him and flashed him a smile which he happily returned

“Can you just stay like this a little longer?”

He grinned and pressed a kiss to your lips, there was no way he was going to say no to that

You nestled back into his chest as you felt his strong hands lightly massage your back and sides

He knew that he could get carried away in bed sometimes and wanted to do whatever he could to make you feel better

You sighed in relief and kissed along his neck and collarbone while his hands continued their light ministrations

“Does that feel good?”

“So good Kou” You mumbled in between the lazy kisses you pressed to his skin

You could hear laughter rumbling in his chest and you couldn’t help but chuckle too

Bokuto is usually a whirlwind even in the mornings, so it was like heaven to just have him quietly massage your burning muscles

Somehow mornings like this made you fall in love with him even more

Ushijima

Ushijima always woke up before you

And there was something about mornings with you that reminded him of how much he loved you

He always watched you sleep for a little bit, not wanting to disturb you

But no matter how much he loved the peaceful look on your face he just couldn’t keep his hands off of you

Before he knew it he was snaking an arm under your waist, pulling you closer while the other was outlining the features of your face

It didn’t take you long to wake up after that, feeling his hands on your skin and his intense gaze burning into you

It wasn’t fair how good he looked in the morning, the second you looked at him you felt your breathing hitch

He opened his mouth first “You look breathtaking”

It also wasn’t fair how he practically took the words right out of your mouth

“Sorry I woke you, are you feeling sore anywhere?”

You finally managed to collect yourself and smiled softly at him, shaking your head

“No, everything is perfect”

You nuzzled against his hand that was now resting on your cheek

It’s true that sometimes you’d wake up with bruises on your hips from where he had a firm grip on you the night before

Or with a dull aching feeling that nagged at you most of the day

But today you were feeling nothing but love and complete and utter happiness

Ushijima isn’t the most emotional person you’ve ever met so when you get the chance to see his gentle side like this, you didn’t care about anything else around you

He’s normally a morning person and likes to get up right away to go for a run or do something productive with his morning

But today he seemed much more occupied with drawing mindless patterns across your bare skin

He listened to you tell him a few short anecdotes and hummed every now and again to let you know he was listening

After nearly an hour of just lying in each other’s arms he finally made a move to get up

Before you could complain though, he took your face in his hands and kissed you with every ounce of love he had in his body

Your legs felt more like jelly now than they did the night before

“I’ll meet you in the shower”

He didn’t need to say anything else for you to eagerly get up and join him

Iwaizumi

Iwa is a surprisingly cuddly sleeper

In public he always gets embarrassed at any extreme acts of PDA but in private he just can’t get enough of you

Maybe he’s slightly touch starved or maybe he’s just head over heels in love with you

Or maybe it’s both

Either way he always insists that the two of you sleep with your head resting on his chest

He woke up before you, letting the morning sun stream across your face while he admired your features

He thought you looked absolutely stunning like this, practically an angel

And seeing the deep red and purple marks littered across your skin only made him more wild for you

He liked leaving marks and hickies across your skin to remind you of him

And as a subtle way of letting everyone else know that you belonged to him

He was running his fingers across the different spots when he felt your eyes flutter open

“Good morning” He uttered in his raspy morning voice that drove you absolutely insane

You moved your head off his chest and onto the pillow next to him so you could properly look at him

He turned on his side towards you and gave you an uncharacteristically sweet kiss on the lips

“Good morning” You finally said back

You stretched a bit and you were suddenly aware of the swollen marks across your neck and collarbone

“Hajime...” You whined “Why is my neck sore?”

You asked the question knowing full well what the answer was, you just wanted to make him feel a little guilty for leaving so many lovebites on you

Instead he just grinned unabashedly and pulled you closer to him, tilting your head to the side so he could get a better view of your numerous hickies

“What? I think they look good” He said as he started kissing all of your sore spots

You wanted to scold him more and tell him to be more considerate but his lips just felt so good on your skin you dropped it entirely

If you were truly being honest with yourself you loved the way he possessively marked your skin up

And no matter what you said, you knew he wouldn’t stop

Not that you wanted him to

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howdywrites · 4 years ago

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Chapter Zero

→ an In The Woods Somewhere excerpt

This is from my zero draft of ITWS that won't be in the new draft I'm starting for Camp NaNo. I still thought it would be fun to share since it gives a little insight into Jackie (park ranger main) and a side character named Benny who works under her. NOTE: there is a lot of info in this that's changed as I've outlined so some of the locations will be inaccurate.

Warnings: brief mention of recreational drug use (mushrooms)

Length: 2.3k words

[ WIP Intro ]

Breath burned aching lungs. Boots stomped in slick, dark mud. The icy mist clung to every hair on bare skin and the drumming of heartbeat became the rhythm in which Jackie fell in time with. She jerked, ducking beneath a low hanging branch. Her hair whipped as she cast a worried glance over her shoulder. It wasn’t following her anymore.

A disgruntled skunk and her litter of kits watched her sprint from the home they made in a thicket of bushes. If she had stuck around for just a second longer, Jackie would have paid dearly for her grave mistake. Up on [the mountain], there wasn’t a proper shower to be had at the lookout. In fact, there was almost no running water to be had at all. That’s exactly how she preferred it - being one with nature in every sense of the word.

“Fuck-” A patch of thick mud sent her sliding into the wooden Trail 46 sign that pointed southeast. Jackie held on to it, leaning over with her chest heaving while she caught her breath. A spring of curled hair fell over her forehead from under the brim of her uniform hat. Taking one last deep breath, she swept it back under and ran her hands along her two thick braids to make sure her rubber bands were still attached to the ends.

Static crackled from the radio on her hip. A voice snickered at her from the other end.

“I didn’t know you could run that fast,” the voice teased her, his laughter turning into crackles. Jackie lifted her head and dragged her eyes along the ridge behind her. Ancient trees and wild brush lined the rocky ledge. She squinted, trying to make sense of the map of greens and browns. Despite her year of working in Wyoming, she struggled making out shapes in the woods that weren’t blocky signs. “Surprised you didn’t lose your hat.”

Jackie unhooked her radio and held it up to her mouth. It trilled and went quiet. “Where are you? I swear to god, Benny, if you scare me again you owe me a cone at Marie Bettie’s on Monday.”

She stood there, a hand on her hip and her radio up by her ear. A crease formed between her brows. Birds flit from tree to tree down Trail 42, drawing her eye. Frowning, she didn’t see Benny there. Nor did he respond on the radio. She hesitantly clicked it again. “Benny I’m not playing. Where the hell are you?” She couldn’t hear herself on the other end. Wherever he was hiding, he had turned off his radio so she couldn’t gauge where he was.

Stepping out into the middle of the trail, Jackie circled around like an uneasy horse, feet pressed firmly into the packed dirt. A small creature of amber red and white darted out from a nearby thicket of prickly bushes and skittered across the trail. She gasped, nearly jumping out of her skin. While distracted, a pair of hands touched down on her shoulders, fingers curling over her uniform.

Jackie screeched, launching herself forwards out of the grip of the intruder. The ranger hat on her head tipped off, rolling and bouncing off the gravel. Her arms barely caught her in time to save her face from getting superficial scratches. Squirming, she rolled onto her back and scrambled into a squat. Benny stood there, cackling loud enough to send a few birds flying from their nests in the trees. His smile took up most of his face. Smile lines deepend and the prominent gap between his teeth was on full display.

“I got you good, didn’t I?” He leaned in, holding a hand out for her. Despite the adrenaline soaring through her veins and the annoyance that tumbled within her, Jackie sighed and grasped at it for help off the ground. Freckles splattered his sun-kissed skin, his cheekbones turning to apples with his grin.

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me two cones, now, Wonderbird. Double scoops.”

“Hey, that’s not fair! You know volunteers don’t make squat here-” Benny stooped down to pick up her hat, dusting it off for her. It was true. When he first joined the park just six months ago, Jackie had been assigned as his mentor. The junior program was offered to any college students pursuing their line of work. To get a taste of life as a ranger. They didn’t make a salary, but their summers spent in action were funded by park leadership in the form of bunks and food. A far better deal than what was offered to her in Tennessee. She took up her hat and repositioned it proudly on top of her head. “But I guess it’s the least I could do for doing that.” He pointed down at her green trousers.

A small tear cut across her knee, thankfully protecting her skin from being lacerated by her fall. Sighing, Jackie lifted her leg and inspected the hole. “Luckily I brought my sewing kit with me to the tower. C’mon, let’s finish our rounds. Think the captain has extra radios for tonight? Last thing I want is to not be able to contact anyone - especially this weekend.”

The end of summer break brought in the most guests outside of the spring season. Mostly college students looking to get out of town, but not willing to commit to the cost of going to the Bahamas or Miami all the way down south. Jackie couldn’t remember most of the breaks from her college days. She crunched to get through with her degree as fast as possible. Any break she got was filled with studying or working wherever she could. She would have liked to go somewhere tropical and warm for her breaks, but she preferred the serenity that usually came with visiting state parks instead.

“How many people usually camp here during breaks?” Benny kicked a pale gray pebble into the grass alongside the pack dirt walking trail.

“Could be hundreds. Maybe even close to a thousand or more. Really depends.” Earlier that day, they had already received an influx of campers eager to stake their claim on the best spots in the park before the hoards arrived. Easily several dozen of them, all scattered between RV hookups, the rentable cabins and clearings for tents. “Just be glad you’re not working at any of the offices this weekend. I’d take firewatch over disgruntled campers any day.”

“I can’t thank you enough, you know.” An elbow bumped Jackie’s arm and she glanced at the grinning young man. “If it weren’t for you, Richards probably would’ve never let me take over tower 24. He told me you put in a good word for me.”

Smiling down at the ground, Jackie shrugged and reached out to give him a gentle pat on the shoulder. “It wasn’t all me. You’ve got the passion for this. The drive. Can’t say the same for some of the other volunteers-”

A trill of squealing laughter caught her attention. The two of them paused right at the fork. One path remained wide open with wooden signs encouraging guests to stay on the correct path. The other had overgrowth and a dirt path so narrow, one could hardly call it a trail at all. The usual rope gate meant to block it off had been cut. Both ends laid useless on the ground with frayed edges. Another bark of laughter came from the end it shouldn’t have.

“Damn…” Jackie muttered bitterly under her breath. Just when she thought they could wrap up for the afternoon. Benny puffed out his chest and stood up taller.

“C’mon, ranger,” he chirped, marching towards the rocky side path. “No dilly dallying!”

“You just want to write up a citation.” She snorted and followed alongside him. “You’re starting to sound like the captain.”

Snaking down the path, the trees overhead grew thicker and wider. Branches from lowly pines scraped against their arms. Creatures that remained unseen skittered into their hiding places. The closer they got to the three or four voices chattering away up ahead, the more signs they saw. Brand new, the signs were nailed into the untouched bark of the trees along the path or plastered on wooden signs hammered into the thick dirt.

WARNING: do not proceed! This area has been sanctioned for investigation by the State of Wyoming and local police. Any violations will result in a $500 fine.

“Have these signs always been here?” Benny’s voice lowered to a faint whisper. Jackie stepped carefully around a pile of stones gathered around the base of a thick oak. Her boots slid against their jagged surfaces. “I don’t remember them putting these up.

“I don’t either. I remember some feds were here on Wednesday, but they weren’t up for much small talk.” They stood proudly in their dark suits and shade, holding boxes of flyers and paperwork and speaking in hushed tones to her higher ups. The single chance she had to greet one of them was met with silence. Very rude. “I don’t think this was a missing person’s case, otherwise we would have been informed about it.”

Like something out of a sci-fi movie, bright yellow caution signs littered a shady grove at the end of the short path. The sound of water trickling from a nearby stream joined the quiet voices. The blocky lettering on the big yellow signs yelled at them.

DO NOT DRINK THE WATER! Do not disturb local flora as issued by the governor of Wyoming.

“Dude! You’re going to get us in trouble!” A nervous voice murmured beyond the trees. There, by the creek, four college aged kids stood around a mossy puddle. Two girls and two boys, all wearing their UW school colors. Most likely freshmen given their wide eyes and round faces. One of them stood with his jeans rolled up to his knees in the shallow water, a fist full of curling brown mushrooms that looked like kelp. They went silent at the sight of the two rangers.

“This path is restricted.” Benny took the initiative, his voice wavering just a bit at the end of his statement. Jackie let him take the reins. If he really wanted to do this for a living, he would have to get used to this. As he went over what rules they broke being there, she made her way over to a damp patch of tall grass between two moss covered trees.

Squatting, she spied even more kelp-like mushrooms. They stuck out of the grass like limp, decaying fingers out of a grave. Jackie narrowed her eyes and used a pen from her breast pocket to jab at it with as gentle of a touch as she could manage. It released a pussy substance and a musky scent that reminded her of the single frat party she attended her last year in school. Similar to weed, but different. From looks alone, she couldn’t nail down from which family this fungus derived from. In fact, she couldn’t recall anything remotely similar in all her years of study.

“You can’t do that.” The kid in the water whined, trudging out of the water. He tossed the picked mushrooms. “C’mon, man, we’re just trying to have a little fun! I gotta pay for books next week!”

Jackie looked over her shoulder in time to see Benny’s head fall like a disappointed teacher’s. He sighed and shifted his weight from foot to foot, unable to reply. Tucking her pen back into its spot, she dusted her hands off and stood.

“Here’s what we’re going to do-” She put her hands on her hips and took over for him. She spoke with authority and a rigid stance. “I’ll let you off with a warning, as long as you four keep to the official trails and stay out of trouble. If me or any of my associates catch you out of bounds again, it’ll be a $700 ticket. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The kid slipped his wet feet into his Nike sandals and hung his head. Blonde hair stuck to his pink face and despite his towering height over her, he still looked like a boy. It only made her feel older than she was. The other three murmured in agreement, following behind him. She watched them shuffle up the path until they disappeared behind a thicket of pines.

“I thought I could do it,” Benny sighed, his head swiveling side to side, checking for litter or anything else the rowdy guests may have left behind. Jackie moved to stand beside him and ruffled his mess of red hair. The way his nose scrunched and his shoulders relaxed from the playful exchange reminded her so much of Andre back at home.

“You did better than I did the first time I tried writing a citation - I cried.” Her sidekick blinked, surprised, and chuckled.

“But you’re so good at it. You’ve got a mom voice - in a good way, I mean.”

“Geez, I’m not that old, Wonderbird. First them, and now you? I’m aging by the second. You’ll have to explain to Richards why my knees are bad and my hair is graying when summer’s over, you dingus.”

Benny all but collapsed forward with laughter, holding his stomach and slapping his knee like a cheery grandfather. Jackie smiled so wide her cheeks ached. She had to avert her gaze to not let the homesickness creep in. She would miss him when he had to go back to school. Just like she missed Andre.

The mushrooms among the grass piqued her curiosity again. She stooped down beside them and inspected them without touching. Who knew what they did and who knew why the government and college kids were so interested in them.

“What are they? They were grabbing a lot of them.” Benny squatted next to her, reaching out to touch one. Jackie gently smacked the back of his hand and shook her head.

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t touch them. Let’s get to the office, the captain’s waiting for us by now.”

ITWS Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @lordkingsmith @celestialbunnistories @aeslin-writes @writinginslowmotion @chayscribbles @theramwrites @tiredlittleoldme @sapphcon-ic @hazard-writes @lookingmuchimproved @themidnxghtwriter @draculinawrites @aetherwrites @svpphicwrites @maxgraybooks @writeherewaiting @sjjsalamanders @thelittlestspider @ashen-crest @writtendevastation @ravesthewriter @adie-dee @christine-thinks @cream-and-tea @reeseweston

#itwsdrab #murdereddarlings #writeblr #itws #horror

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strangerays · 3 years ago

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Nothing in Particular Update #2

It’s the Nothing and Particular and Everything update part two: the electric booglaloo. This one is long, so strap in.

It’s been a while since I wrote an update for this story. To be honest, this one gave me a lot of stress, but here I am! Writing this story feels like it is going very slow. I keep telling myself I’ve made a lot of progress (which is true, I have) but for some reason it doesn’t feel like I have? This is likely just my own insecurity. To be frank, I can’t believe I’m still writing this story. If you had told me in February that I’d still be writing this when the weather got warm, I would have laughed.

I am SO excited that I will finally be able to focus on writing now that I’m out of school. I’m afraid to speak the rough deadline that I’ve given myself for this story (the end of August-early September) but now that I’ve spoken it into existence, I hope I can finish! (I hope I can stop watching dumb videogame playthroughs and listening to The Magnus Archives and get something done)

Here is a link to the story introduction and previous update!

TAGLIST (ask to be +/-); @wannabeauthorzofija @a-completely-normal-writer @baguettethebooklover @corkytheguar @writeherewaiting

STORY CHANGES/THOUGHTS/IDEAS:

Here is a big one: I’ve been trying to write this story for myself. I started writing Ray’s story from a place that was personal to me, but I feel like, as that part of myself has begun to heal, I’ve started to think about what a reader would want out of the story. I’m realizing that this is my story so it has to be what I want. Drafts are drafts for a reason, so I’m going to try to get better at letting myself explore what is fun to me.

I always thought I was a discovery writer (I still sort of think I am) but as I’ve finished small sections of the story, I am finding that it’s very helpful to do a rough outline of scenes in upcoming chapters. (I also recommend turning to this if something doesn’t work and you need to retrace your steps!) Just helps me feel more organized!

Jude’s character has got to be one of the most difficult personalities I’ve ever written. Putting her beside Ray just makes it harder. Where Ray is secretive and keeps to herself, Jude is ready to unpack her entire life’s story to anyone. I find that I really have to slow down when writing their interactions. I know this is going to be nowhere near perfect in the first draft, but I think it is a main contributor to my slow writing.

I really like this little narrative I’ve created in the background of the main plot with Ray and Lonan. I love writing these scenes because it’s a way for me to use Lonan when he’s not actively with Ray and to show why Ray is predetermined about things at certain points. Also I love their friendship so much <3

CONGRATULATIONS TO ME on starting to read again because I forgot how much of a help reading other people’s stories can be when you’re struggling with your own oml

I now have a set timeline for the story! Takes place ~4-5 months.

I did that thing where you write a letter from the characters’ perspectives and that was kind of fun

Also just for fun I thought I’d add in that I spent an hour and a half last week filling up a page in my sketchbook with diagrams of the plot. It feels good to be a mad scientist

EXCERPTS UNDER THE CUT!

*At this point, I’m only sharing writing that I am really proud of in order not to spoil the story! This is because I am unsure whether I want to publish this story someday. With that said, that does NOT give you permission to steal my ideas!

CHAPTER: NIGHT CRIES

In the last week of summer, I did everything I could to avoid post-vacation blues. I rode my bike along the gravel roads with no destination, wore my dark sunglasses to people-watch, and fed salami to the minnows that floated on the cusps of boulders. Usually, I sat still for so long that my elbows turned a deep shade of red and the blood in my toes buzzed.

New pockets seemed to open up in Point Blink every day. And with them, came new people. Most of them were older – a middle aged woman who caked her lipstick on, an uncle estranged from his brother, a couple who had miscarried. I hadn’t forgotten about the kids at Mothouse. It was impossible not to think about them. It wasn’t just that I’d never seen them before.

The girl’s limp cigarette bled a trail of smoke that seeped into my Vans. My shirt folded like skin over my bed post. Haunted the room – foiled my mauve sheets and teased my locks. Swept the curtains apart and heated the oak floor. Beams of moonlight leapt to my bookcases; highlighted the posters from various podcasts and bands that I listened to. Wind whistled when I was too still. She forced me to look outside, onto the dark cul-de-sac lit by the reflections of forming rain puddles. No matter whether I sat at my desk or burrowed under my sheets, I felt out of place. She made my bedroom louder. She made my bedroom quieter.

I decided it would probably be best if I never saw her again.

To be honest, I don’t remember much about writing this chapter because it was over a month ago (sorry) but I’m still quite happy with the prose! This comes in after Ray sees Jude for the first time at Mothouse. Based on a first impression, decides that she might want be friends with Jude.

CHAPTER: SORRY

If you spend any long amount of time with someone, you’ll become a thief to their behaviors. If I stared long enough, trees began to replace all of the people we’d ever seen. Oaks had roots that serpentined the ground like children splashing in the bay, pines with needles like spindly old hands, maples with hollows like watchful eyes – all things Lonan had taught me to observe.

CHAPTER: GHOSTS

Then there was the sea – violent and knowing as it romped within bays and alcoves. She had eaten me many times before, both my father and Lonan too. Gulped them as if they were shining plastic wrappings left behind after a meal. I spited her for inviting me once again. I reached up again to grapple with the next rung. It twisted and offered a low whistle.

In these two chapters, Ray is on a photography trip with her class. This is the first time she’s been on this annual trip without Lonan. She left that morning with a goal of being independent and learning to get on with one of the only people she has felt close to. I realize now that the Ghost excerpt sort of sounds like her dad and Lonan have drowned?? Which was not my intention??

CHAPTER: A DIVINE INTERVENTION

“Do you believe in ghosts?” A raspy voice teased from behind me. Cigarette smoke tickled the words, like they were stuck together with jelly inside of her. The question wasn’t particularly calming, but it strengthened my grip on reality. As if the foiled leaves, bark, and dandelions had sprung from the ground and begun to float, they came crashing back down.

I was made of stone.

“I’m not a ghost,” Jude said. “If I was, a ladder would be a pretty counteractive way to outrun me. I could just float up there and haunt you.”

“Maybe you’re a ghost,” she asked, her voice distant.

I shifted my grasp up and down the sides of the ladder. “What?”

“Don’t you believe in ghosts?”

I was reading back some of Ray and Jude’s conversation and there are so many snippets of dialogue that make me laugh because I totally forgot I wrote them... but UGhhH I don’t know if I want to share them because I don’t know whether or not I want to try and publish the story someday. Speaking of that, it’s sort of because it’s so personal to me? I don’t know (this is for future me to pursue) Honestly though, reading these back has made me really happy :)

I wanted to shake her by the shoulders. She acted as though Point Blink could breathe – as though corpses in the cemetery might pull the grass away like dead skin, neighbors would draw blades, and blood-salt would stain her clothes rather than that from the sea. “Trust me, they’ll forgive you. But, I’m just saying, most people around here don’t care nearly as much as you think so. Most of them are way older anyways, so they’re tired of us.”

“Is that you complimenting yourself?” Jude asked.

“Not intentionally,” I said, “but I will take it.”

She laughed. “You shouldn’t be so nice to strangers.”

I wasn’t trying to be. I just didn’t think I wanted her to dislike me.

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing or a good thing,” Jude said. “Being good gets you tucked into a thousand different memories. Being good makes you live a lifetime.”

I almost laughed, but then I wondered what I was to her now. “I don’t talk to lots of people.”

“Sometimes there aren’t many people to talk to. But I thought you would have loads of friends.”

I wasn’t sure what to say to that. “I thought you would too.”

Alarm like grief lit her eyes, but she laughed. I did too.

“You hardly know me,” she said quietly.

Then the girls explore some old newspapers and letters in a fire tower! Spooky fun!

CHAPTER: YOU LET THIS HAPPEN

This isn’t a major spoiler as it’s literally in the blurb I wrote, but Ray and Jude are caught (targeted..??) in a fire. Ray is brought back to a field where she is questioned.

CHAPTER: NOTHING HAPPENS

He was quiet for several moments while he painted a picture with what little details I had given him, then said, “It’s unfair. I think that’s why it hurts.”

“Because we almost got hurt?”

“No. Because it came true.”

His gentle, ragged voice made me think I could tell him anything. Sometimes, I think that, even then, he knew I left something out.

Ray talks to Lonan after the fire... She’s being a bit dishonest about what actually happened.

CHAPTER: WHY NOT

I remember how the barest amount of red light glared across Lonan’s entire scalp and washed his boyish curls magenta from the roots out. When Jude leaned back on the counter, she melded into the darkness.

This chapter is just part of the narrative that I created with Ray and Lonan’s friendship. There isn’t much I want to spoil from it, but I liked this paragraph!

CHAPTER: INEVITABLE

“We didn’t do anything,” I said.

“Someone did. Why won’t you believe me?”

“I think I would remember whether or not someone was there with us,” I said, “even if we didn’t have the picture.”

This was untrue. I hung lots of photos in my room. A long time would pass before I went to a restaurant again, or a specific coven on one of the beaches, or an outfit that I wore, and I would look into one of my pictures and remember it, and then I would be quite angry with myself that I had almost forgotten that thing forever.

“I don’t think you understand what I mean,” Jude said. I didn’t like the way she’d lowered her voice. She sounded different every time I saw her. She reached out her arm so our photos were side by side and our fingers were almost touching. “I don’t think you want to.”

Ray finds herself alone in the school’s dark room with Jude. Based on the contents of one of her photos, she tries to convince Ray that there is more to the fire than what meets the eye.

CHAPTER: (this one is untitled)

I didn’t mind that he followed me everywhere. Even when he was quiet, I didn’t find it strange to be around him. We sat silently through films and went on walks. Once, he had fallen asleep while watching The Iron Giant in my bed. I didn’t know if I should wake him up once it ended. I tried not to stare at him. He’d rolled onto his side and bundled himself in one of my blankets covered in stars up to his shoulders so only his small face poked out like a baby owl’s. His soft breath messed his dirty gold coils. They were at their longest. Except for the ebbing light from a candle on my desk, my house was asleep – Lonan needed to go home.

For the first time, I wondered if anyone cared where he was.

Another small part of the little friendship narrative! (This really is the part of the story where I get nostalgic for my childhood, isn’t it) Ray starts to discover more about Lonan’s home life in this part of the story, but there’s not much that I think I want to reveal about that for now.

CHAPTER: THE CRUX OF IT

Why did I feel so paranoid? I found myself staring out the window, into the film of blue that the late sun shown onto the grass and trying to remember what summer felt like.

My main problem was that I didn’t know how to talk to Jude unless it was about Sugarfell. I ran from the hush of cigarette smoke behind closing doors and heard her loud voice in conversations. Even though there might have still been a part of me that wanted to be friends with her, I didn’t have much to base that feeling off of. I could have spent hours clicking the little pieces of her that I had together, but the crux of it was that I would never know Jude unless I forced myself to.

For some reason, that really scared me.

I spent all week trying to think of what to say to her. By Friday afternoon, I still had nothing.

I left off writing with Ray actively avoiding Jude’s little investigation into the arsonist. Ray doesn’t want to be involved in this because she feels that it will throw her sense of normalcy off course. She really just wants to learn how to adapt to a life without her best friend. (It doesn’t help that she’s got fresh trauma)

What will Ray decide? I don’t know. We shall see. (just kidding I know)

Sorry this update was longer! I think I would like to start updating more often than once a month just because they would be shorter and those of you reading this won’t forget what happened in the last update. There are thousands and thousands of words that didn’t show up in this update because - like I said - I don’t know whether I want to publish this story ever?? I’ll probably talk more about this in a separate update.

Thank you so much to those of you who read about my story! I hope you enjoy it!

p.s. btw I now have a myWriteClub account! You can check it out here and stalk me as I tragically fail my writing goals!

#ffs writing this update was like throwing a boulder into a lake #there was so much I wanted to share #it's really difficult to decide what to share as sometimes a paragraph that I'm really proud of will be really spoilery #I can only imagine this will be more and more difficult as I get further into the story #ANYWAYS #I feel like I'm really beginning to see who my characters are <3 #I feel like a proud mother #To be honest #I kind of hated Jude in the beginning #but now I feel like Ray hates her too so that makes me like her #haha im so mean #tune in next time for a Sapphic spy date

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todaydreambelieversfic · 4 years ago

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Author Spotlight: Coffeegleek Day 3

Author : @coffeegleek

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

At least a few revisions. Then multiple editing passes, and even with my spouse as my proofreader for the past 25+ years, and doing more editing passes before posting to AO3, I still find annoying little typos, sometimes large ones.

If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

There was a crack fic I stopped writing years ago. It was a self-challenge during one of those tumblr trope challenges. I was trying to combine all of the tropes into the same fic as they were announced. It got zero traction though so I gave up. I'd love to go back and complete it, make it better. I had the whole thing outlined too.

What do you look for in a beta?

My spouse. We've been together for decades. He's been proofreading my original science fiction work and various fandoms' fanfics since before we were married. He even proofreads my Klaine smut and doesn't blink an eye. (He's a Glee fan too and on tumblr.) He knows what I'm trying to say when I can't find the right words and supplies them. He catches things I don't. What I love the most is for my original work, he's written his own fanfic. It's BAD. It truly is, but it's so heartfelt and earnest. He even came up with a soundtrack should I ever publish my sci-fi novel and the movie or show rights be bought. You really can't get a better beta than that. <3

There’s a number of friends on tumblr that I bounce ideas off of and who give me advice for topics they know far more about than me and google. I try to thank them in my fics.

If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I’m going to steal another author’s recent answer and say that I could never do someone else’s work justice. However, I would love to see the author’s ideas for their fics even if they couldn’t write a prequel or sequel.

I suck at remembering titles and author names. There were two political fics that I would love to read more of should their authors ever decide to write in those verses again. One was where Kurt and Blaine's dads were running for president and Kurt and Blaine were along for the ride, staying in the same hotels at time (where they first met,) having to do school remotely, having to be the perfect sons for the press and Blaine being fed up because his parents were conservative Republicans. Then there was another fic where Burt was president and Kurt was the First Son living in the White House, along with Finn, and it was hard to date when your every move is watched by the press.

Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I write AU, so canon is only a word often misspelled by me. :) Seriously though, I try to incorporate as many canon elements and characters into my AU fics as I can. It's the kind of AU I like to read as well. What draws me to read and write AUs is taking canon characters, putting them into a different setting, and seeing how they'll react. At their core, they still need to remain the same in principle and have many of the same traits. Like Kurt will always love fashion and be headstrong no matter what. Blaine is always going to have that spark within himself, no matter how depressed or oppressed he gets. Burt and Carole are always going to be loving and nurturing parents at heart. Even in fics where Burt isn't woke, there's a part of him that means well. (Not one of my own fics, but one I read a long time ago.) Different circumstances will change the canon characters and make them react in different ways though. Like, Kurt could end up more withdrawn and hide his love of fashion as a matter of survival and self preservation. He or Blaine could turn into "bad boys." Coach Beiste will always have a heart of gold. Miss Pillsbury will always have a problem with messes. Things like that. I know canon. Give me all the alternate universe versions of it and I will be a happy camper.

Talk about a review that made your day.

I haven't checked for reviews on my fics in ages (because I'm an insecure chicken) so I don't remember any specifically. I do remember there were many that made my day. There are those who take the time to review every chapter. Ones who write only a short note to thank me for writing the fic - both the angsty ones and the cracky fun ones. I love it when someone mentions something that no one else has that I was hoping someone would notice because I was proud of it. I'm not a popular author and don't get a lot of kudos or comments or reblogs compared to many. So each comment and kudos means a lot to me and I'd like to publicly thank every single person who wrote one or hit that kudos button.

Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

I once got a troll who decided it was his job to complain that I had misspelled hors d'oeuvres in one sentence out of an entire verse where the word was written multiple times correctly. It was a series of Klaine Advent one shots for the Empty Nest verse. At first I was shocked and replied with an apology. Then I was, "F this. The person is a troll who didn't read any other part of the fic or verse, just this one quickly written one shot entry, and if all they had to say was that I'd misspelled a commonly misspelled word, then they aren't worth my time." I deleted the comment. There's concrit and trolling. It wasn't concrit.

What advice do you have for people just starting to write?

Have fun writing, even the hard stuff. Know that it's okay to take breaks. Try your best and know you'll get better the more you write and the more you read. Pronouns are your friend and free. Don't put, "I know this is going to suck, so whatever," in your fic description. We all suck at times. It's a part of writing. But if you want folks to read it, using that as your fic's summary isn't the way to go. Just my opinions, which won't even buy you a cup of coffee.

Which fic do you most like to discuss with other people? Why?

I think it’s pretty obvious from all of my rambling that I enjoy talking about both of my series - Empty Nest verse and A Very Hallmark Christmas verse. I'm not a popular author and I know my fics, especially the Empty Nest verse ones, aren’t everyone’s thing, so I never get to really discuss them except with friends that I bug to death in private and via long replies to comments on AO3. (You all are saints blessed by all of the good and patient gods.) I have so much to say about them - the process of writing them, the world building, research, and character decisions that went into every single one. I know they’re not perfect. I know the Empty Nest verse grew miles beyond the ficlette about Burt and Carole that it was meant to be. I know my sense of humor in the Hallmark verse isn’t everyone’s thing either. I still worked really hard on them and am glad that I did. Empty Nest let me release a lot of the fear and anxiety I had for my Hispanic and gay son after the 2016 election. The Hallmark ones were a needed break to put some humor into my life. If others enjoyed them, great. If folks want to know more, my inbox is always open.

What's one aspect of writing fic that gets you really excited?

Writing humor even if I'm the only one that finds it funny. As I said above, writing the Hallmark Christmas movie dialogue and plot and the actors as they were filming it was a blast. Writing the commercials was fun and exciting. In my angsty fics, knowing I wrote a good scene, line, or moment that brought out all the feels. That's more of “satisfaction of a job well done” than excited.

***

Check out Coffeegleek’s Fics

Humorous Spooky Drabbles - Humorous drabbles to spookish type prompts based on a tumblr post called October Drabble Prompts #1 by hallofceleano. The parts in bold and italic are from those prompts. Characters include Kurt, Blaine, Burt, Carole, and Finn. All fun; only #4 has some mild angst. #4 is for snarkyhag and regarding #5 - I know next to nothing about Twilight and had to look up Taylor Lautner on imdb. The liberties I took are my own.

A Very Sloppy Christmas - lucy8675309 posted to tumblr a series of gifs with Kurt dressed up as an elf. It inspired me to write the following prompt, which CoffeeAddict80 encouraged me to write as a fic:

I now want a fic where real Santa’s elf!Kurt gets drunk and vents to Blaine about all the woes of working for Santa. He’s over 100 years old and the outfits are terrible. Why couldn’t they wear clothes like the elves did in that one movie? Drunk elf Kurt has no idea he’s venting to Santa’s son.

Bonus if he wakes up and realizes he just had a drunken one night stand. He isn’t sure who it was with. Only that he’s naked, the guy in the bed beside him is naked and showing off a really great ass. Then said guy turns over and after Kurt’s done staring at his dick, he looks at the guy’s face and realizes who it is.

It’s a Twisted World - I decided to challenge myself by combining the posted 5 weekly Klaine AU Friday themes and adding another one of my own. So that means: Farm, Fairytale, Vintage (1900’s,) Super Powers, Zombie Apocalypse, and Harry Potter World Klaine with a splash of a fic idea I thought of while in the produce section of the grocery store. Each week, the story will continue, though each part stands alone. This is not a brilliant work of perfectly composed fan fiction. What it is, is fast-paced, cracky fun, with a large dose of innuendo. At least it had my son laughing his ass off. I hope y'all enjoy it too. :)

#author spotlight #coffeegleek

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jenovahh · 5 years ago

Text

Comm 05 - NSFW - Opulence Ch. 2

Rating: NC-17, Explicit Tags: Female!Reader, NTR, Cunnilingus, Penetration

A continuation from the same person who commissioned Opulence! Thank you so much!

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He is displeased.

That much you can tell just by looking at how is jaw is clenched, his movements rigid, but still elegant as he uses his knife to cut off another piece of his steak. You can’t help the pit of guilt that sits deep within your heart, knowing that you are the cause of his unhappiness.

He’s not making conversation, leaving the outing feeling cold and forced, and you do your best to remain in high spirits despite knowing that this date gone sour is all due to your own indecision.

It had been about four or so months since start your affair; you hated calling it that, but could find no other word more fitting to the fact that you were still in a (supposedly) committed relationship while entertaining another man’s affections. Your own infidelity nagged at you in the back of your mind, the proverbial elephant in the room in every sense of the word.

Which is exactly why your lover was currently cutting very fiercely into his steak.

Since that first time you had come together with Emet-Selch, you made an arrangement meet on the weekends; you would take your car to a nearby parking garage where you would leave it there for the night and slip into Emet-Selch’s luxury car, legs cradled by his fine leather seats and his cologne filling your senses.

The first month or so was hot and heavy; with the two of you hardly able to keep your hands off each other. His hunger for you would spark your own, the two of you sometimes hardly able to even get through the door of his apartment before clothes would start getting pulled off, if they ever made it off at all. Emet-Selch was a lover beyond compare, always pleasing you, even if you knew it also fed into his own pride. He took great care at learning your needs, wanting to see to them before seeing to his own.

You wondered if the desire between the two of you was palpable, despite your best efforts to keep the appearance of “just friends” when you continued to meet at the local coffee shop for lunch. He continued to let you keep up appearances of paying for your own food, swiping your own card, but as soon as you sat down you’d find a crisp twenty dollar bill waiting for you at the table. It was obvious that eating out constantly at the small cafe didn’t even put a dent in his finances, let alone his ability to treat you to fine dining every weekend.

He had proved his devotion, his ability to love and provide for you time and time again. He had cared for you more than your boyfriend ever had, even at the start of your relationship when the butterflies were strongest, which served to twist the metaphorical knife just that deeper. At this point, anyone was well within their rights to ask why you still remained with your boyfriend, the fact you were cheating on him aside.

Why remain with someone who did not love you, when someone who wanted to give you the world was right there?

A part of you knew you were even more terrible continuing to lead Emet-Selch on like this. He deserved better, no matter how much you expressed your love in other ways. He did not always say it outright, that he was jealous, possessive of your attention.

It would show in how hungry his hands were, how hard he bit down onto your flesh to leave marks in places he knew would be hard for you to hide. Places where you’d have to get more creative in your lies to your boyfriend, hoping you would eventually run out. He would buy you clothes that were so clearly outside of your budget, that if your boyfriend had paid attention, he would have noticed. Any and everything to wrap you up in his love, a clear beacon to anyone that was paying attention that you belonged to him, even if you refused to accept it yet.

Though from his sour mood, you feared it might not be that much longer.

You lightly squirmed in your seat, feeling the delicate silk of your underwear beneath your dress. It was one of his favorite ensembles that he had gotten you, all black lace that was so sheer, one could question why you would wear it at all. Hopefully this would be enough to pull him from his obviously dour mood, and buy you a little more time to at least warm up to the idea of finally ending things with your boyfriend.

You do your best to not force what little conversation there is, talking idly about your day, your job and its many frustrations. He responds with slight grunts to let you know he is listening, but otherwise makes no point to engage at all. You suppose it’s only fair, even he has his limits. You say nothing as you both finish your dinner and don’t bother for dessert. He’s silent the entire time as he helps you back into your coat, as he helps you step into his car. You wonder if you should say something to ease the tension, but know that he will speak when he is ready.

The hotel’s opulent stone glints even in the night as he pulls up to the front, his hand already outstretched for the valet to take his keys before the poor lad can even rush over. His hand is warm as he helps you out of the car, ever the gentleman even if he is upset with you for reasons you are still unsure of. Instead, you focus on the echo of your heels against the fine marble flooring as you stroll through the lobby, doing your best to not clutch Emet-Selch’s arm too tightly lest you give away your anxiety. You can hardly remember him walking the two of you over to the receptionist where he pays for your room, so caught up in your thoughts.

The quiet hum of the elevator finally jolts you out of your stupor, your legs moving automatically at the slight tug of Emet-Selch pulling you along out of the elevator and down the hallway. The tension seems even worse now with you right outside the door, the two of you both knowing the only reason you come to these hotels, but neither of you willing to say the first word that will make it easier to breathe.

The door swings open, and he finally releases your arm to where you may step inside the room first. You take a few steps into the suite, its wide open space no longer a shock to you as you lightly toss your clutch onto the bed. After a few months had passed, you had slowly adjusted to the life of luxury Emet-Selch had lived, seeing it better to accept his gifts rather than fight him on it.

He has still yet to speak, so you begin to slowly peel your coat off in a way you hope is sexy, unused to the act of seduction. You were capable of playing a tease of course, but before someone as confident as Emet-Selch, you had to admit that you were nervous, considering the mood he’s in.

Nonetheless, you feel his eyes on you as you move to hang your coat across the back of a chair, aiming to go for an innocent approach instead. You make no moves to let him know you are ready for him to have his way with you; merely strolling over to the nearby closet where you bend over to peel off your heels one shoe at a time as the skirt of your dress rises up the backs of your thighs. You hear his own clothes shift, spying him taking off his own coat in the reflection of the windows lining one wall.

“Did you want to talk?” You ask tentatively, gently putting your heels away. You give him a passing glance as you move to take your tights off, stopped by his hand practically slamming into the wall next to you. You jolt in surprise, preparing to turn and face him but his hips press against your backside, letting you feel how hot and hard he is in his slacks. His free hand reaches around to clutch at your hip, to press you even closer against him.

You do your best to keep up your act, your surprise genuine as he had never shown any kind of force in your time together. The way he held your hip right now was tighter than usual, a strength shining through that you didn’t think him capable of. You remain silent, waiting for him to speak, whether it is to answer your earlier question, or to say anything at all. If he is mad at you, mad at something else entirely, you would have him share his thoughts with you instead of letting the silence drag on.

“Emet,”

“You know I’m upset, don’t you?” He interrupts, his voice a low growl in his chest. You feel rather than hear him speak, the rumbling baritone of his words pressed against your back and the warmth of his breath against your neck. His lips press gently to your skin, a complete foil compared to his rough handling of your side as he keeps you locked in place against him. “Answer me.”

“Y-Yes.” You tremble, not from fear, but something else entirely. Excitement wars with anxiety feeling the hard outline of his arousal pressed against your lower back, but your rational mind fights to focus on his next words so you can learn the reason for his ire.

“How long must we continue this way?” He breathes, his hand leaving the wall to lay flat against your stomach, slowly drifting upwards. You gasp as his fingers dance up to your fluttering pulse, giving a light, yet possessive squeeze at your response. “I will admit...perhaps I had miscalculated your willingness to stay with your boyfriend…” He seethes, spitting out the title as if it is the most disgusting thing.

Somehow, despite knowing it is you in the wrong, you still find it within yourself to draw upon your own anger, bucking against him, earning a hiss from between clenched teeth. “Miscalculated?” You echo, trying to turn to face him, but his grip on you won’t let you budge. “What are you saying,” He cuts you off with a well placed bite on the back of your neck, hips pressing against you insistently as the hand on your hip leaves to slowly push the hem of your dress up your thighs. Somehow the heat of his hand rivals that of the one between your legs, your head trying to tilt downwards to watch the action but his hand on your neck won’t allow it.

“You know what I’m saying. Don’t twist my words.” He whispers lowly, jerking your dress up suddenly to where it bunches around your hips. You gasp as he roughly grips at your tights, yanking hard enough to rip through the sheer material, your eyes going wide with the action. His hand practically leaps to get back between your legs, fingers slipping between your lower lips, feeling the dampness of the sheer silk you wear. Your legs tremble already from his ministrations, eager for him to slip a finger inside but he continues to merely rub his fingers along your slit.

“D-Don’t tease me,” You whimper, but surprisingly he does not let up. In fact, his touch seems to grow even lighter as he presses himself impossibly closer to you.

“Hasn’t it been you who has been the tease for so long, my love?” He murmurs against your skin, hips grinding his length on the curve of your ass, his other hand yanking the collar of your dress down. You can hear the seams rip and tear at his display of strength, appalled he would so carelessly manhandle your clothing when you do need something to go home in, never mind the fact he had paid for this dress himself.

Once he is satisfied with how far he was torn your dress, that same hand goes to greedily cup a breast, squeezing none too gently in a way that shocks you with how wet it gets you. You feel as if your lungs cannot keep up with the pace of events, chest rising and falling so rapidly into his hand as you fight to breathe alongside the moans he pulls from you. “W-What do you mean,” you rasp as he pinches a nipple betwixt two fingers; rolling and tugging until you are quaking with need under his attentions.

“You know what I mean, don’t be so innocent now.” He chuckles darkly, a shiver running down your spine at his low tone. “I have excused your actions thus far, the cruelty you have shown me...don’t start doing it on purpose now.” He bites hard at your neck, sucking the skin hard enough you know a mark will be there.

“Emet, don’t,” you beg, but he does so anyway, and you hate that it feels too good to make him stop.

“Don’t what?” He snarls, pulling the two of you away from the wall. He urges you both to the bed and you let him lead you, too aroused and confused to do otherwise. The soft sheets cushion your fall as he practically shoves you down, climbing atop you before you have the chance to even move. He attacks your neck with a ferocity you’d never seen before, his hands holding you so tightly as if you might vanish if he lets go.

“Don’t show my love for you?” He questions and the query is like a stab in the heart. Your eyes jump to meet his molten ones, a sea of gold glittering with a pain you felt idiotic for never noticing. “Well?” He hisses, spreading your legs so that he may settle between them.

Your draw your bottom lip between your teeth, already knowing the answer but too afraid, too cowardly to vocalize it. The actual act of any visible marks had not come up in verbal conversation between the two of you; as if he had already known, had already been considerate of your own internal struggle.

So willing and ready to lie in wait while you chipped away at his heart.

“Emet, I,” You try to begin but he seems to have none of it, finding a nipple to pinch between his fingers once again that has you releasing your bottom lip to cry out.

“No excuses. Not tonight.” There is such finality in his voice it shakes you to you core and you tremble as you feel as though you have no choice but to obey. His other hand finally makes its way back between your legs to stroke at your core, your folds glistening with your own juices from how wet you are. Your hips practically leap into his touch, already so hypersensitive from his teasing. Your breath comes out in little pants, your eyes unable to leave his own as his fingers delicately swirl across your clit.

“Look at you...so beautiful…” he praises, leaning in close and you meet him halfway, kissing him deeply as your hands leap bury themselves in his hair, swallowing his groan as his fingers press harder for just a moment, but go back to their light teasing as he breaks the kiss. “My love...you must know how you’re hurting me, don’t you?”

You nod hesitantly, rewarded with him pushing your underwear to the side for your honesty. You moan long and low, thighs clenching around his hand as you try and press yourself into his touch. “I-I don’t mean to,” you whine but it falls on deaf ears as he continues his teasing.

“You still have, regardless.” His fingers on your skin are light, almost as if they are floating just above. You’re a right mess, you know you are, but feel helpless to do anything about it as you can already see where this is going. “So tell me, just how you’ve been hurting me.” He tilts his head thoughtfully as he runs his fingers along the planes of your stomach. “Or shall I have the honors?”

You swallow thickly, feeling like you’re hardly in control of your breathing. “Please don’t tease me,” you whine, trying to angle your hips to where his fingers will slip inside, but he keeps moving away.

His eyelids lower as he sighs, tongue swiping across his lips. “Very well. I will cut to the chase.” Leaning in close, he holds your gaze. “I have tired of this affair.”

Your heart drops immediately, tears already pin pricking behind your eyes as you try to process his words, but he continues, seeing he has upset you. “Not for the reasons you think, my love. I tire of it, because I no longer want to be the ‘other man’.” He sighs, and it is loaded with such hurt you feel as if salt had been added into the wound. “My feelings go far beyond just a little fling. I have wanted you from the moment I first saw you, and knew the risks by engaging in an affair with a woman who was already in an established relationship.”

You hang on his every word, your arousal drifting slowly to the back of your mind until he plays with your clit again, maintaining that pleasure but not driving it any higher. “I have been nothing but courteous to you...kind to you. As much as I have longed to have you for myself, I could see your reservations, despite how you had accepted my seduction.” He smirks at that. “Perhaps I had been too confident then.” He chuckles, the sound rich and velvety like dark chocolate.

The sun has long since set, his skin bathed in the low lighting of the lamps in the room. The city twinkles outside the window, his eyes like twin flames as they sparkle with any light caught within them. You find yourself as enchanted in this moment as you had been day one, at his ethereal beauty that seemed almost otherworldly. You find yourself arrested by his beauty despite everything, feeling your heart wrench all the more at his words.

“My own miscalculations notwithstanding, even I have my limits love.” He whispers, lips hovering just above your own, the scent of your earlier wine drifting across your face. “I hate to do this, but I must present you with an ultimatum this night. Either you become mine, completely, or tonight is the last we shall spend together.”

Nothing would ever lead you to think for a moment that he was bluffing, despite how your mind tried to deny it. Your mind, your foolish mind, wanted to play it off as a joke, a cruel joke, but your heart knew for a fact the severity of his statement.

“Hades…” Your lip trembles as you try to look at anywhere that isn’t him, now faced with the reality of your actions. You struggle to keep it together, even as he slides down your body, strong hands pulling your legs over his shoulders as his breath ghosts across your slit, so wet you can feel it through your panties.

“I can’t...we just...what would people say about you?” You try, the excuse already making your tongue feel like ash as he leans his head to your thigh, his hands ripping your tights further down your legs to expose more skin to his ravenous gaze.

“About me? Love, you are the one in a relationship, not I.” He laughs, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin of your inner thigh. “As far as anyone in my circle is concerned, we merely see each other, as adults are free to do. In fact, most assume already that we are involved. I would like to confirm their suspicions if it’s all the same to you.” He purrs, pressing his lips against your core, your thighs nearly clamping his head between them.

“H-How would we even see each other?” The excuse is terrible, but still you press forward. “Even now we can only meet each other on weekends, not to mention you live clear across town,” your query is stopped with a sharp bite to your thigh, the yelp you release less than dignified.

“It would be nothing to get the proper services to move you out of your shabby, little apartment and into my home. Really dear, you must come up with better excuses.” He reprimands, to which you furrow your brows in anger.

“They are not excuses!” You retort, pushing at his shoulders, but your arms are weak from his ministrations, to which he smirks. “Then are they truths?” He asks.

“No,” you say before you can stop yourself, biting down hard on your lip at your slip up. Any hope that Emet-Selch won’t notice is thrown out the window as you notice the intelligent glint in his eyes, the golden pools pinning you fiercely.

“Well? What is the truth?” He presses, his grip on your thighs increasing in strength unconsciously. “Do not think to lie; not when our arrangement is built around it. I deserve your honesty.” He rumbles, and you feel your lip tremble as you try to hold back your tears.

“I’m not nearly good enough for you.” You admit, eyes drooping as your hands move to wipe at the tears that have begun to fall.

“Don’t cry.” He coos, moving to climb up your body, arms snaking around to hold you close. “What could have ever put that notion in your head?” He questions, pressing kisses to your temple.

“Hades, look at us!” You cry, pushing him back to look at you. “You are an architect! A successful one at that, you are a businessman, a CEO, and you ask me how I think I couldn’t possibly measure up! Just one of your cars is probably worth more than a year’s salary for me!” You try so hard to keep from raising your voice, finding it hard to do so when you are caught in the whirlwind of your emotions. “You have shown me a life that I never would have known otherwise; of dining at restaurants whose food I can’t even begin to pronounce. Sleeping in four star hotels, riding in luxury cars…” you trail off, finally able to look him in the eye.

“What do I look like, driving around in my dingy little car, dating someone as amazing as you?” You whimper pitifully, your chest heaving as you finally reveal what had sat in your heart.

“I can always buy,”

“Do you really think that would make me feel better?” You cut him off, feeling a growl of your own rise in your throat. “I have enjoyed your gifts, truly I have, but these are not gifts someone like me is used to accepting! Dinners that are worth a weeks worth of groceries, Hades! Dresses that are worth the rent of my shabby, little apartment!” You huff, watching as he seems to process your words.

“Do you know how much it has hurt to care for you as deeply as I do, despite feeling so hilariously out of your league?” You ask, swiping more tears off your face. In little time do you feel his hands reaching to cup your cheeks, thumbs swiping to stop the tracks of your tears.

“Is this what you’ve been holding inside you for so long?” You hear him ask, your eyes fluttering to meet his own. The love and adoration you see there calms you, taking deep breaths as he continues to caress you. “If I knew these were your fears, I would have soothed them immediately. My love, you must know that I care for you as much, if not more so.”

The confession makes your heart do little flips, breath stolen away. “You could’ve been a barista at the shop where I met you, and still you would’ve enchanted me, even then.” He smiles, leaning forward to press a kiss to each of your eyes. “Your social standing means nothing to me; I want you to stand by my side.”

The words themselves feel like enough to get you crying again, but you manage to keep it together. “You really mean it?” you ask, wanting to hear it again.

“I love you, my darling. Please, stay by my side.” He asks, almost begs, and you nod, giggling lightly as you see his smile broaden. Leaning forward he presses his lips to yours, the kiss soft and chaste until your bodies slide against each other just so, arousal rekindling as his tongue slips inside your mouth, taking over the kiss hungrily. Your legs start to curl around his hips again, but he won’t have it, hands caressing your thighs. “You’re mine.” He growls, and the sound of it sends shocks up your spine as he presses the head of his cock toward you entrance.

“D-Don’t tease me anymore,” you whimper, unsure if you really could take much more of it. He presses a kiss to your temple just as he slides his length inside you, smirking at your drawn out moan as he pushes himself inside inch by delicious inch.

“No, my love. You have earned your reward.” He purrs, finally fully hilted inside of you, his cock filling you ever so sweetly. It nearly knocks the wind out of you after being stimulated for so long, but feels even more delicious for it after being denied. He gives you a few moments to adjust to his girth, no matter how many times you have been together. You pull him down for another kiss, pouring all of your love and affection inside of it, sighing as he finally allows your legs to ensnare his hips.

He pulls out slowly, savoring the feel of you as much as he wants you to feel the length of him, his golden eyes focused on your face as you throw your head back in abandon. “H-Hades,” you gasp, breasts bouncing as he slams back inside, that earlier forcefulness rearing its head and your face flushes brightly as you find you like it. Your arms loop around his shoulders as he nips and kisses at your neck, further cementing the fact you are now his.

So caught up in your pleasure, you do not realize that your phone has started to ring.

You’re almost jolted back to reality somehow, your head turning to your forgotten clutch in a panic as you hear the chiming sounds of your ringtone. Your panic rises as you feel one of Emet-Selch’s hands leave your body to reach for it, opening the clutch with little effort and fetching your phone.

When he smirks, you feel your stomach drop.

“How...fortuitous.” He cackles, grinning at the screen before facing it towards you. Your eyes widen as your boyfriend’s name flashes on screen, the phone still vibrating in Emet-Selch’s hand. “You don’t even have to go home and end things tonight. You can cut to the chase, right here.”

“Hades! That’s so...so,” Exciting? Your mind supplies. “Shameless!” You blurt, feeling your cheeks sting from shame.

“Well you must forgive me later then, I find myself wanting a bit more assurance that you will end things.” Emet-Selch sighs, making a show of turning the phone back to finally pick up the call.

“Hello?” He answers, voice crystal clear and sharp, crisp and professional. The esteemed Emet-Selch. “Oh, you’re looking for her? I’m a colleague of hers, if you give me a moment, I can let you speak with her. I believe she had something of import to tell you.” His grin is devilish, arm outstretched as he hands the phone to you. With trembling hands you take it from him, heaving out a sigh before finally putting the phone to your ear.

“H-Hello?” You greet, swallowing thickly to try and have your voice sounds as normal as possible.

“Hello? Babe? You all right?” To hear him call you “babe” makes you visibly frown, but you say nothing about it as you force a smile into your voice. “I’m all right sweetie! Did you need something?” You ask in an attempt to distract him.

At that moment Emet-Selch resumes his movement inside you, stroking painfully slow that you would hit him were you not doing your best to quiet your noises. “The boys canceled on me tonight, and I noticed you weren’t home. Have you been going out on the weekends?” You try your best not to roll your eyes, despite knowing your boyfriend can’t see the action. Of course now he would notice your sudden absence at home.

“Yeah, I’m just...out with some colleagues! We had dinner and now we’re having drinks…!” Your pitch nearly skyrockets as Emet-Selch slams particularly hard into your core, shocks of pleasure racing to every nerve ending in your body. You toss him an angry look, to which he looks frustratingly unrepentant, continuing his slow measured strokes inside your body.

“Are you okay?” You can hardly hear your boyfriend’s words over your racing pulse, can hardly recall what he had even said as your body continuously draws attention to how wonderful Emet-Selch feels inside of you. “I-I’m fine,” you rasp, biting down hard on your lip as you try to arch your hips toward his. “T-Tell me about your day?” You prompt, desperate to push the weight of the conversation back on him.

“Yeah, sure. Today at work,” your boyfriend’s words slowly become background noise, your mind hardly even able to supply the necessary “mhms” to let him know you were listening as Emet-Selch continues to fuck you. The pleasure steadily builds, Emet’s thumb pressing insistently at your clit in an attempt to wreck your already ruined voice, his brows furrowing at how you are unfortunately too good at keeping your voice even despite the pleasure he gives you.

So he stops.

You flash him a pleading look, trying to hook your legs around his hips but he won’t budge. He won’t move at all, lips pressed in a straight line as he fixes you with a stare that says everything and nothing at once. A whole conversation passes between the two of you with just a look, nothing needing to be said with words.

Just as you begin to open your mouth to speak, he pulls out and plunges back in, tearing a moan from your throat before you can cover it. Your face heats in shame, but what surprises you more is how good it felt, finally able to let that moan go.

“Babe?”

Emet-Selch thrusts again, another moan torn from your throat, and this time you make no move to even bother to stop it. The grin on Emet-Selch’s face is absolutely devious, dark lips pulled into a smug smirk as he resumes his motions to coax more moans to the forefront.

“Babe?”

It takes you a moment to find the words to respond to your boyfriend, one of Emet’s hands trailing up your body, greedy fingers rewarding you with a squeeze to one mound. You can feel your grip on the phone slacken, hardly able to maintain a firm grip as he assaults your body with pleasure. Somewhere through the haze you can hear your boyfriend’s distressed calls of your name, unable to make yourself care that there’s no hiding just what it is you’re doing.

At the very least, you don’t have to hide anymore now.

You shed your inhibitions and moan for your lover, eyes fluttering shut as you arch your body into his waiting touch. His pleasure seems to double with your actions, allowing yourself the time to merely enjoy the sensations your bodies create together. In the back of your mind, you can’t help but feel a little sorry for your boyfriend, to find out this way.

Only a little.

“What are you doing?!” You hear your boyfriend shout, obviously very angry now that he’s put two and two together. Lazily you place the call on speaker, dropping it next to your head so you can reach back for Emet-Selch.

“I’m leaving you.” You say simply, doing nothing to hold back the continuous whimpers and moans Emet pulls from you. He fucks harder, the sound of skin on skin surely being picked up by the phone and that in itself gets you wetter as he slams into you. “Faster,” you moan, your hands twining with his as he loses himself to the rhythm of his thrusts.

You grip his hands tighter, trying to find your right words to say between each moan Emet-Selch pulls past your sinful lips. “Maybe if you weren’t...constantly neglecting me…” Emet releases one of your hands long enough to press a thumb to your clit that has you squealing before you can finish the sentence. “I would...I wouldn’t be here, with another man…” It feels harsh to say, but you know it to be true.

Months ago, you would’ve never see yourself in the arms of another man, no matter how well he took care of you. You had loved your boyfriend until it felt like you couldn’t anymore. When he had started spending less time with you, it tore you apart, piece by piece.

It was his own fault, for being blind to the fact that someone else could come along and put you back together again.

“I’ve found someone who treats me like I’m his entire world. Someone who knows how to please me, who makes me feel loved...” You bite down hard on your lip, feeling your orgasm close. “H-Hades,”

He doesn’t need to hear how weak your voice is to tell how close you are to the edge, needing that final push into oblivion. With the ease of practice does he angle his hips just so, press down on your clit in a way that has you crying out in release as your orgasm washes over you. Your legs lock around his hips, holding him close as your walls constrict around him that forces a deep groan out of him, your vision feeling like it’s blurring around the edges as bliss laces itself through your veins.

Coming down from your high, you manage to weakly turn toward your phone as Emet-Selch continues to chase his own release. “Goodbye...I’m Emet’s good girl now.” You sigh, ending the call as you turn your gaze back to the man above you. His eyes are shut tight, mouth open slightly as he moans your name with abandon.

“I’m so close,” he rasps, hips slamming into your own. “Gods, I,”

“I love you, Hades.” You tell him, meaning every single word from the depth of your heart. “I’m yours now.”

With those words alone he falls over the edge, barely managing to pull out just as he comes, stroking himself as his seed lands on your chest. You gladly accept it, taking in his orgasm as it is a sight of which you will never tire. Head thrown back in ecstasy, throat bobbing as he gulps down air. His lips sighing your name so lovingly, so adoringly that it makes your heart swell just to hear it.

As he finishes, he bends over to claim your lips, the kiss all fire and passion as his tongue dances with your own, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. You can hear him growl “mine” underneath his breath, his hand on your hip giving a possessive squeeze when he does so. Parting for air, he peppers your jaw with kisses, showering you with affection, tickling your chin so that he can hear you laugh.

“Hades,”

“I love you too.” He purrs into your skin, not stopping his silly affections for you as he continues to sprinkle kisses across your face. “I’m so glad you’re mine.” The relief in his voice is evident, even past the smug air at having witnessed you breaking up with your now ex-boyfriend in front of him. When he looks at you, you swear not even your ex-boyfriend had looked at you with nearly as much ardor.

He reaches to hold you close, but you push him away, laughing all the while. “Hades! Let’s get clean first!” You smack him lightly on the chest, watching as he grabs your wrist, bringing your hand to his lips to pepper kisses along it as well. “Have you always been so affectionate?” You ask, watching as his eyes slide to yours, lips pulling into a genuine smile.

“I have. I was just waiting for you to be mine first.” He whispers against your skin, turning your hand so that he may place a kiss upon the back of it. “You do not know the joy I feel in knowing I get to take you home tonight.” Those words alone give you enough of an idea, relief at no longer having to hide your true love blossoming in your chest.

“I look forward to it.” You grin, sitting yourself up to caress his face. “In fact, I look forward to a lot of things.”

It takes very little time for you to be moved from your shared apartment with your ex, to the penthouse apartment of Emet-Selch. The change still takes some getting used to, having to park your cute and comfortable hatchback next to his line of luxury cars. There is a bit of back and forth between the two of you as far as redecorating goes, your main complaint being that his home does not feel like home; it is too empty, too minimalistic, as expected of someone who is rich. You find great joy in seeing him give a reserved sigh any time you bring any new knick knack or decoration into your home.

Due to your months of already being in an affair, adjusting to a life of leisure is a somewhat easy transition. At times you must remind Emet-Selch, Hades, your precious Hades, that while the silver and gold is nice, you still enjoy your comforts. He could easily purchase you clothes from designers from cities you had never even heard of, but you enjoyed the simplicity of finally being able to afford all the online dresses you’d been eyeing for months. He never saw fit to deny you, willing to do whatever it was to make you happy.

He had even offered for you to quit your job; he made more than enough to take care of the both of you. Another offer you had once again turned down, still wanting to be able to work and make your own money and feel independent. You had actually managed to snag a job as a personal secretary, something he was unhappy with at first, but you had eased his doubts and told him it would be fine.

You liked your boss enough, and the pay was even better than your previous job, seeing as the large office building you walked into felt like it reached into the very sky itself. The sound of your heels clicking against the immaculate floor makes you feel powerful as you stroll into your boss’s office, shutting the door softly behind you.

“Good afternoon.” You greet, shifting the stack of folders in your arms. Silence rings through the large office, your brows furrowing at his obvious rudeness. “I said,”

“I heard what you said.” He interrupts, sounding as bored as ever. “What is that you have?” He asks, as if he shouldn’t have to bother.

“The reports for--”

“Bring them here.”

You bite down hard on your lip before saying something you will regret, keeping your chin up as you calmly stroll over to the large, ornate desk near the far glass wall. Windows reach high to the ceiling, the city sprawling out behind him.

Coming to a stop, you gently place the folders on his desk. “These are the reports for,”

“Ah, ah.” He tuts, golden eyes flickering, waggling his finger. “Bring them over here.” He purrs, and the sound goes straight to your groin. Gingerly you pick up the files, doing your best to remain composed as you circle the desk to stand in front of your boss. “Now, sit them down on the desk.”

As you prepare to follow orders, his hand reaches out to catch yours, yanking you into his lap. “Hades!” You squeal, hardly able to keep yourself from colliding with him. His hands quickly grasp the backs of your thighs, spreading your legs so that you may straddle his lap. Chest to chest, you can feel your heart racing a mile a minute, eyes flicking to the door in a panic.

“You did lock the door behind you, didn’t you?” You hear him ask, trying to peel yourself off him, but his strength won’t let you budge. Really, where did he get it from…

“I think so?” You squeak out as he pulls you atop his bulge, your face heating instantly. Somehow you are not surprised by the fact he’s not at all bothered at the prospect of his door being potentially unlocked and anyone just strolling in.

“No matter. It’s not my fault if someone comes for an unexpected visit.” He purrs, hands sliding to grip your backside in his hands. Giving a firm squeeze he lifts his hips toward your own, your breath stolen away as pleasure zips through your body. “I will simply tell them I am punishing my secretary for getting no work done on the job.” He smirks, hiking your skirt up even higher, clearly enjoying your embarrassment.

“I can’t get any work done if my boss can’t keep his hands off of me,” You give him a smack, to which he happily gives you one on your ass in return. “You are just looking to get caught!” You hiss under your breath, hardly able to stifle your laugh at his innocent expression.

“There’s nothing to catch my dear. You are mine now.” He grins, bringing you down for a kiss. It takes you little time to return it, your bodies melding together as you loop his arms around his neck. Those reports on his desk lie abandoned and forgotten, but perhaps they could be worked on another day.

#Emet Selch #FFXIV #ff14 #solus zos galvus #Shadowbringers #ffxiv writing #writing commissions #ffxiv commissions #Comms

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neighborhoodmoonchild · 5 years ago

Text

Music To My Ears (Jin x Siren!Reader)

Genre: Supernatural Au, College Au, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Explicit language (just a bit), whole lotta angst, brief mentions of suicide, story also goes back and forth from Jin’s to Y/N’s POV, Fluuuufffff

Word Count: 9K, lets goooo

“What about Jiwoo?”

“No way.”

“There’s that girl from my psych class, Dae?” Jin scoffed and shook his head furiously.

“Anyone that shares a class with you Joon is a no-go. I want simple and easy, not a therapy session on why I’m ‘afraid’ of commitment.”

Joon shakes his head with a light chuckle, “Maybe you should be asking yourself that question.”

Jin laughs at his friend like he’s the funniest thing in the world, when Joon knows very well he’s not.

“Easy, I’m not afraid, I just don’t need a girlfriend right now. Monogamy is boring.”

Yoongi pulls his headphones off completely this time and turns to the two idiots taking up all the space on his bed, “Then why even bother with girls at all. Try flying solo for a while.”

That earns him a long, exaggerated eye roll.

“Because Yoongles, a man has needs.” If there was one quality Jin didn’t have, it was subtlety.

Being the most popular, handsome, and eligible guy on campus (self-coined, in case you couldn’t tell) was both a blessing and a curse. The pressure to pursue and please was insurmountable, and while Jin enjoyed a good challenge, he just wanted to relax and have some harmless fun while he could.

College wouldn’t last forever, and the endless pool of easy, available, no-strings-attached hook-ups died along with it, so Jin made it his mission to make the best of his last year here.

Only rule: girls in his dorm? OFF LIMITS. He made that mistake first year, and he still gets the stink eye from Yeri every time he goes to wash his clothes, and don’t even get him started on the various times the lights just “happened” to go out while he was taking a shower.

Everyone else is fair game and no repeats allowed. Some would call him a player, but he prefers opportunistic. I mean, campus is just serving him all of these gorgeous women on a silver platter, so what’s he supposed to do?

A painful groan breaks Jin from his thoughts, his attention flicking to the dark haired man now leaning so far back in his chair, it might just snap in half.

“Look, all I’m saying is that nothing good can come from your little ‘quest,’ ok?”

A snort from the eldest causes Yoongi to spin around and chuck his notebook at him, exasperation clear on his face.

“Except everything about it. No feelings, no mess, just fun.”

“Just because you don’t acknowledge the mess, doesn’t mean it’s not still there,” Yoongi counters, earning silence from his friends.

Jin ponders for a moment. Sure, sometimes he picked the wrong target and things got a little weird, but it couldn’t be that bad, right? It’s not like they didn’t know what they were getting into with him, he’s a pretty open book, ask anyone.

Then again, it’s not like he stuck around long enough to really gauge the outcomes, and to be honest, he doesn’t think he will be for a while. It may seem selfish, but come on, it’s not like any of these girls aren’t getting anything out of it, and he sees how some of them walk around all high and mighty afterwards. If anything, they’re using him just as much as he’s using them. Why not play the game if it’s a win-win?

The conversation on that dies out as quickly as it came, and after laughing about Joon’s mishap with his zipper in Physics for a solid 30 minutes, Yoongi gets fed up and kicks them out so he can finally study.

The walk back to his room is uneventful. His dorm is rather quiet at night, all the partying and adult shenanigans happens in Seo Hall or down the street at Phi Beta Nu. Jin loved a good kegger as much as the next guy, but the betas are just too stuck up their own asses you have to be fully inebriated to have any fun.

As he rounds the hall, he sees a slight steam sweep through the doorway to the communal bathrooms. If he were up to it, he totally would’ve messed with whoever was in their so late at night, but after the conversation with Yoongi and Joon, he couldn’t bother.

Usually his friends would be excited or at least fake being into his dumb conquests, but he could tell they were starting to worry about him. Jin wasn’t always like this, looking for easy and replaceable love, but after his girlfriend of almost 2 years broke up with him before they both started junior year, he just didn’t see the point in the long-term when it would all just fall apart in the end.

Jin was tired of putting in so much time and effort only to get slapped in the face and his heart ripped in two. No, the easiest way to protect your heart from breaking was to pretend you didn’t really have one, or at least use a fake while the real one is hidden away.

‘Love’ everyone but truly love no one.

Suddenly, he’s stopped just beyond the bathroom doorway, a sweet and soft voice dripping from the warm and damp air like fresh honey for only him to savor. It wasn’t uncommon for people to belt it out when they were alone in the shower, but this was something so uniquely and incredibly different, it pulled him in without any resistance.

Jin was not a pervert by any means, he’s always respectful and gentlemanly when it counted, and he knows it certainly doesn’t look that way as he carefully tiptoes through the doorway to find the source of the melody turning his insides to jelly and making his heart beat a little faster than normal.

Jin knew, he KNEW, this was a bad idea, but something inside him just told him to keep going. He could pinpoint the exact stall it was coming from, could almost see her outline through the curtain, when the singing stopped.

So lost in his haze, Jin didn’t even realize he knocked over an empty caddy by one of the stalls, causing a light bang, and indicating to the mystery girl that she was no longer alone.

Before he could process what was happening, Jin was out of the bathroom as fast as lightning, the sound of her curtain ripping open spurring his feet to move faster. He was out of there and hiding behind the corner like a crazy person, praying to God he wasn’t found out.

Jin had never ever done something like this before, and he was hoping the first time he messed up would not be the time he got caught.

The water now off, he could hear her footsteps as she slowly peeked out from the doorway, searching for the suspect. Jin’s heart beat so loud he was scared she’d find him by that alone.

It was quiet for a moment, and Jin let himself sneak a peek past the edge of the hall, hoping to catch a glimpse of this mystery girl. To his surprise, all he got was a flash of hair, the red color tinting her cheeks, and the fluffy pink of her robe as she quickly made her way down the hall towards her room.

He didn’t want to keep watching, anxious she’d feel his eyes and turn back and see him, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Her stature, the curve of her body, the sway of her hair against her shoulders and back, it was so mesmerizing, and he could not for the life of him get her voice out of his head.

After she was locked away in her room, Jin began his retreat to his, only looking back once in the direction of her door.

‘No dorm mates, remember that,’ he repeated in his mind, over and over and over again. But no matter how hard he tried to hear that like a mantra in his mind, her voice was louder than any thought he could provide.

You were still a bit paranoid after last night. You lived in a dorm for heavens sake, and a coed one at that, of course other people would be in the bathroom. Usually, you waited late enough for everyone to be either gone partying, studying, or on the rare occasion, sleeping.

After all, you didn’t see anyone, it was probably just your brain making things up thanks to too many late nights binging horror flicks.

Still, you couldn’t help feeling wary. You rarely break your ‘no voice’ rule, but you just couldn’t help yourself sometimes. You missed letting the notes and melodies fall from your lips, no matter how dangerous it could be.

Late night showers with the water masking the sound became the only way you were able to take a break from playing mute. You didn’t like lying to people, but you just couldn’t risk it.

Not after what happened last time.

With your backpack strapped safely to your back and arms cradling your notebook, you cautiously made your way to class. You made it a habit of trying to avoid eye contact with everyone all together. Sometimes even a look could draw them in, so pushing everyone away was best.

Of course, this was nearly impossible to do as a student, but you learned ways to keep it at bay. Hide yourself in as many layers as you could, don’t wear anything eye-catching, keep your head down, and never stay too long.

You even requested a room to yourself, in fear a roommate would stir up unnecessary trouble, and you wanted to get through college as incident-free as possible after first year.

Of course, all of these precautions didn’t stop the trouble all together. When you first came to school, people, especially guys, were all over you. They’d cast the shy card, the innocent card, and when you wouldn’t fall into their traps, they’d casted you out all together.

The shy girl everyone wanted became the prude people avoided.

Albeit it was a bit lonely at times, you remembered that you weren’t here to make friends, you were here to get an education. On you couldn’t get where you were from, and one you had fought fiercely to obtain.

You weren’t going to let that be ripped away from you by a little bout of loneliness.

You made it to class with a few minutes to spare, your notebooks and pencils taking their places sprawled across your desk as you awaited instruction.

Class went by slower than usual, and you couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching you. You weren’t a stranger to wandering eyes, but they usually lost interest rather quickly. This time, however, you could tell every time they’d wander back to you, and you knew better than to indulge and find the culprit.

Instead you ignored it, trying hard to focus on the lesson, and then suddenly, class is over and you realized you missed the assignment.

After waiting a few minutes for people to clear out, you made your way down to the professor, one you’d met plenty of times before, and began to sign.

Learning sign language was a skill that helped tremendously. Suddenly, you went from racing to write your thoughts out on paper, to being able to have sort-of easy flowing conversations when needed. Most were more than happy to accommodate you, bringing in an interpreter and some even knew a few basic signs to talk with you. For the the less forgiving ones, you still carried around your pad and pen.

You asked him if he would repeat the assignment due for next week, hands a bit shaky. You weren’t the best, but it was understandable. He happily obliged, and you took down the information on your planner.

After thanking him, you turn to head out, when a pair of eyes meet yours.

Jin couldn’t even escape this girl in his dreams. Suddenly, her voice echoed through every cavity of his brain, the image of her hair flowing as she walked down the hall distracting him from his daily tasks.

Now he was on the verge of being late for class and he couldn’t help but blame the girl a bit. He knew he was just being petty, but how could someone like her have evaded him for so long? How had he not noticed her before?

He was a charmer, a magnet for girls like her, so how had she slipped right through his fingers? Jin admittedly was more interested in the mystery right now than the girl herself, but he seemed that they are one in the same. After all, he couldn’t really be interested in someone he had never met before. And he didn’t even know why he was so taken in the first place.

Jin now made it his new mission to find out who this girl was, whether she wanted to be found or not. He needed answers; why was she up so late? Why did her voice effect him so? Why had he never seen her before now?

When he finally stumbled into Psych, he never expected he’d find his suspect so soon. Yet, there she was, a few rows ahead of him, hair pushed behind her ears, supplies all laid out before her, and he didn’t mean to, but all he can do is stare.

How fate had lined this up so perfectly for him and what he did to deserve it, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that now that he could see her properly, in the daylight and not hiding behind a corner, the beating of his heart sped up so fast he was sure he might have a heart attack right there.

After intensely staring at her for a few seconds, he could sense the change in her demeanor, knew she could tell he was staring. He tried multiple times to pay attention to the lecture, but he just couldn’t seem to hold his focus on anything accept her.

He desperately did not want to make her feel uncomfortable, yet he could tell that’s exactly what he was doing. He could slap himself for it, now she’d never give him the time of day.

Jin spent so much time going back and forth with himself over what to do, he didn’t realize class had already come to a stop and people were filing out. As he snapped himself out of it, stuffing his things back into his bag, he saw that girl get out of her seat.

The bounce of her hair when she walked towards the professor made his stomach do flips, but he pushed the feeling aside to be reasonable. Was she pretty? Yes. Was he attracted to her? As much as you can be to a stranger, he guesses.

He watched as she rose her hands, moving them quickly albeit shakily, and the professor responded to her, giving her the notes for the assignment, which she quickly jotted down.

Now, that was interesting. Why was she using her hands to communicate when she could’ve just spoken to the professor? Jin was even more intrigued than he was before.

Just as he was about to leave them to it, she turned around, instantly locking eyes with him. Jin wasn’t sure what to do. Does he say hi? Pretend it never happened and flee? But before he could choose an option, you were already on your way towards him.

You weren’t planning on confronting him, but he was conveniently still there, standing, staring.

You’d never seen this boy before, but then again, you never made it your mission to remember names and faces. After all, they would never be permanent.

This time, however, something stirred inside you. A feeling like fate, maybe, wanted you to take initiative just this once.

You couldn’t pinpoint what exactly in him drew you forward, to believe that this was all okay and that you weren’t making a big mistake again.

Maybe it was the way his warm brown eyes seemed to grow when you caught his gaze.

Perhaps it was his lopsided smile as he internally decided what to do.

Good looks were something that obviously came naturally to him, but it wasn’t that.

No, you could feel something different emanating from him.

A hidden warmth so purely good you couldn’t help but let it pull you in, no matter how scarily quick it was causing all your protective walls to crumble to the ground.

Stopping just in front of him, you tilt your head a bit to the side, questioning.

He just stares for a moment, realizes what he’s doing, and quickly plays it off cool, his hand coming to scratch the back of his neck.

“Hi, um, my name’s Jin. Nice to meet you.” His hand shoots forward to grasp yours, fingers sliding against one another’s and then falls back to his side.

You take a minute to think. He probably doesn’t know sign language. Maybe I should get my pad out.

You reach in your bag for your paper, when he clears his throat.

“You can talk, right?” He asks, but his tone is edging more towards statement, like he already knows the answer.

You freeze. Lying to him felt wrong, more wrong than it did with everyone else, which was incredibly strange due to him being a complete stranger.

You retract your hands, and look back up at him, shaking your head no.

His expression turns to confusion, which you quickly mirror. It’s when he notices your face that he scrambles to explain.

“It’s just...” he takes a deep sigh, “I heard you. The other night.” He stops, looking into your eyes for understanding. You don’t get the hint, so he continues.

“I was walking back to my room last night, and I heard someone singing in the shower. Their voice was so beautiful. So I waited around a bit, and I saw you leave.”

You can feel the flush rise up through your cheeks, staining every inch of your face in utter embarrassment and fear.

How could you have been so stupid?

Shaking your head no so vigorously it might fall off, you quickly rush past him. You needed to get out of there. Create some distance; a LOT of distance. No way were you going to make the same mistake again.

Expecting him to just drop it, you’re surprised when his footsteps echo behind you.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to make you upset... I just-“ but before he could finish, you whip around, throwing your arms up, signaling him to stop.

You rip your pad and pen from your bag, and scribble out your frustration.

His eyes drop from yours to the pad in front of him.

“Just leave me alone. Please.”

You turn to leave, but he steps in front of you.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? Why can’t you just talk to me. I know you can.” He seemed almost upset with you. How could he be upset with you?!?

“None of your business. Goodbye.” You shove it in his face and once he’s flustered, you make your escape.

Making your way back to your dorm, fuming at the absolute audacity of this guy, you make a mental note to never trust yourself again when it comes to stupid feelings. I mean, how the hell you had felt any warmth in him was beyond you. How dare he act like he knows you. He doesn’t know a damn thing!

You were so caught up in mentally beating the shit out of this ‘Jin’ guy, you didn’t even notice him walk past you and go into his room just down the hallway.

“And then she just shoves her notebook in my face and walks off! What the hell?”

To say Jin is thoroughly aggravated would be an understatement.

He could deal with a girl just not being interested in him, whatever, but for a girl to make him feel stupid like that?

He wasn’t sure about a lot of things, but he was 100% sure that that girl was the one he heard singing in the bathroom the other night. He feels it in his bones.

“Well, you did basically accuse her of faking being mute or whatever.” Yoongi was only half painting attention to the conversation, once again mind clouded with all of the work he had to do. Jin could tell, but he was too frazzled to care.

Sure, he definitely could’ve handled the situation better, but everything about her made him nervous, and then she shuts him down, without so much as a second thought? She didn’t even know him for heavens sake, how could she treat him like he was just some douche?

“I didn’t mean to, I was trying to be nice, but she is just so frustrating. I didn’t demand she tell me her life story, I just know she can talk and I wanted to hear her voice again.” Yoongi ignored him, so Jin sighed as loud as he could and left the room.

As he was walking back to his room, he passed your door. He took a quick glance at the name sprawled across the little cut-out butterfly that the floor advisor made for all the tenants. Y/N.

Her negativity towards him should’ve deterred him, even stopped him all together. Oh, but that’s not how Jin works. Now he had even more of a reason to figure this Y/N out. He was going to get her to talk to him if it was the last thing he did.

In his room, he grabs his laptop and starts researching sign language. If she wants to play hard ball, I’ll learn the game.

Despite his love of simple and easy, Jin couldn’t resist this challenge, and he couldn’t help but feel like this was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.

Forget one night stands, he wanted to, scarily enough, put in the work for this one. Something in his heart was telling him you’d be worth the effort.

He’d find a way to get to you, no matter how long or hard it’d be.

Jin understands having secrets and your right to keep them, but what could be so bad about a voice?

After as peaceful of a night’s sleep as you could get in a dorm, you had almost completely forgotten about the encounter with Jin yesterday. Keyword: almost.

It could’ve just been completely forgotten all together if he hadn’t been standing outside your door as soon as you walked out for class, an annoying smirk plastered to his smug little face.

You were startled, which only seemed to make his smile grow, as if annoying you made his entire day. The dynamic you two had developed over less than a full day of knowing each other was nothing short of absolutely insane. How could two complete strangers suddenly be so ‘comfortable’ around each other?

Obviously Jin was more comfortable with you than vice versa, considering he went from listening to you in the shower, to confronting you in class, to now waiting for you outside your room. Either this guy is incredibly bold or incredibly stupid.

One glance might see a friend waiting outside your dorm to walk you to class. Another might see a stalker waiting for their prey. You knew Jin was just curious, it wasn’t something you hadn’t encountered before, so you entertained the thought that he just might lie somewhere in between those two extremes just to humor yourself.

He approached you, carefully, his demeanor shifting, softening, like he didn’t want to press you. Maybe he just has one of those faces that always looks annoying for some reason.

You prepared yourself to walk away, to shake your head, give him the finger, stomp on his foot, you don’t know, just something, anything to get him off your back.

He would probably say something incredibly ignorant without meaning too and you’d have to take it in one ear and out the other without taking it to heart. After all, you didn’t want to fight with him. You didn’t really want anything to do with him considering your history and his revelation about a few nights before.

But as you lifted your hand to back him off, he started moving his hands in a fashion you had become familiar with. You watched the motion of his hands, the shapes he creates, the orientation of his palms, and realizes he’s trying to sign to me.

This kid. This fucking kid, who you just met yesterday, one you had definitely gotten off on the wrong foot with, spent his night, which could’ve been used to party, study, whatever. He spent it on learning some sign language. He spent all night practicing signs so he could talk to you.

Not sure whether you should be flattered or frustrated that he now could technically talk to you in a way you couldn’t just blatantly ignore, you stood, mouth gaped as he continued to move his hands over and over again.

It was sloppy, obviously, but the idea was there. He never took his eyes from you, waiting for you to understand and respond.

“I’m sorry,” he signs, “can we start over?” The look on his face closely resembles regret. He was actually apologizing. A college guy apologizing for acting like a jerk? Well, this was a first.

You wanted to forgive him right away. Honestly, he was just being normal. It’s not his fault you had a secret. You knew you overreacted, but you honestly wanted to throw him for a loop first. See if he could keep up with you, if it would be worthwhile to indulge in conversing and learning about one another, even though it broke all of your rules.

This was the first real contact you’d had in a long time, and you kind of missed it now that you’d had a taste.

You desperately want to break into a stupid grin, but remain stoic, which sends a rigid chill through Jin. He’s nervous you won’t accept his apology. That you’d hate him forever and he’d never get to know you, the real you.

“Why should I?” It takes him a minute and you repeating it once more for him to finally understand what you’re saying. He’s not surprised, after all, you don’t know him, he doesn’t know you, there is no basis of trust established, and all you had was his bad impression from yesterday to go on.

He thinks, mulling over in his head not only a proper response, but how to sign it well enough you’ll understand.

“I don’t know,” he thinks again, “just a feeling we could be friends.” He chuckles a bit at his awful signing, which he can tell is as bad as he thinks just by the confused way your eyes move following his hands and face.

It was honest. No bullshit. No lines. He was telling the truth, a truth you knew and felt on your own. Something drew you to him, you could feel it from the moment you locked eyes with him. After what happened the last time you let yourself get too close to someone, you were eager to push this feeling away to avoid repeating old mistakes.

Something about this one, though, felt different. It’s like he wasn’t seeing the side of you that lured people in. He was seeing the side of you that just wanted to be normal. The you that could put up a cool, collected front but easily break it down with your stubborn, childish, annoying side.

The you that was usually so well hidden from the outside world. Jin brought out the real you, the human in you.

It was too much to ask of a stranger, yet here he was, putting in the work and then some, just for the minuscule chance you might accept him, let him into your world.

He wasn’t looking for much, he just wanted to know you. You seemed like this perfect, put together girl that could have the world wrapped around your finger if you wanted. Yet you blockaded yourself from the joys and wonders of life, and he wanted desperately to understand why. Not for selfish purposes, but because he could see that you were forcing yourself to stand alone.

After all, he is the complete opposite. He has the world wrapped his finger and he knew it, exploiting it and taking all it offered him. Compliments, opportunities, lovers, they were his for the taking and he happily indulged. He couldn’t see how you could have the same opportunity and blatantly ignore it.

He could tell you weren’t happy just by looking in your eyes. The way you avoided him and others, how you went straight from class to your unshared room. How long had you cut yourself off from the rest of the world?

Jin wanted to understand the why so he could figure out if there was a way to change your mind. To show you that life had so much to offer, so many wonderful things, that you’d want to open up, experience life in a way that would leave every day feeling better than the last.

The last thing he thought you needed was a ‘knight in shining armor.’ No, you didn’t need help, he could tell you were strong, but he did think you could use a sidekick of sorts along the way. A friend, someone who indulges sometimes too much in the joys of life. Who better to show you just how fun life can be? Now all he needed was for you to be willing to let him.

Again, it was a lot for him to ask of you, a stranger, but he figured it was worth a shot. Worst case scenario, you’d tell him to bug off and never talk to him again, but you didn’t exactly talk to him much as it is, so there was nothing really to lose.

You, on the other hand, had a lot to lose.

Your first year, you had ignored the warnings of your family against going to university. You’d been homeschooled all your life to protect you, they had said. Turns out, they were actually protecting others from you.

You’d been starved of non familial human interaction, so when this kind-hearted guy paid attention to you, it made you feel special. Of course, it wasn’t as simple as you thought.

Back then you’d known little about controlling your abilities. When you spoke, it naturally affected some people more than others. This guy had been so far under your spell, it quickly edged on dangerous.

You’d tried to break things off as carefully as possible, spare him the hurt as best you could, but he wouldn’t, no, couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

It got worse, and suddenly you found yourself sitting in a police station being questioned about his suicide and you vowed never again.

Never again would you hurt someone like that; would not only put someone else through that, but yourself as well.

Pushing people away kept them safe. You were dangerous.

And all of a sudden, this goofy, broad-shouldered idiot with a dopey smile comes crashing into your life and you can’t help but feel like you won’t be able to shake him even if you tried.

As long as you kept quiet, you figured, what was the harm in letting him hang around?

You let out an exasperated sigh, one that catches Jin’s attention as he eagerly awaits for you to sign something, anything.

“Fine. Forgiven.” Light glimmers in his eyes as he flashes you a big grin, happy with the verdict.

“Friends?” He adds, extending a hand for you to shake. You stare at his fingers, hesitant and nervous that a touch could even be a trigger. You slowly take his hand, and after finding no problem, shake.

“Do I have a choice?” You sign, and take his loud laugh and head shake as a big fat no, not that you were surprised.

He follows just behind you as you walk to class in silence, but he starts to move his hands again, and as you look over, you see, “Cool, can I copy your Psych homework?”

Instant regret.

Did you see that right? No way, maybe you missed something. You signal him to sign again.

“Are you Friday homework busy?” He doesn’t seem to catch on that what he said made no freaking sense whatsoever, so you sign ‘again.’

Jin rolls his eyes, repeating his hand motions for the third time, and you still can’t figure out what the hell he’s on about.

It’s been a few months since you’d started ‘hanging out,’ though 99% of the time it was Jin just following you around, watching you do homework or other mundane things, and asking you to let him copy your assignments when he couldn’t be bothered to do them himself.

It was something hard to get used to at first, but soon you found yourself falling into a rhythm with him. Suddenly he was a natural part of your every day, something you quickly looked forward too even though you you would never tell him that.

So after being around him for so long, you knew he could sign better than that. Usually he’d catch himself, laugh off the embarrassment, and let you help him get it right.

This, needless to say, was highly unusual.

Jin, on the other hand, found your confusion hilarious. He didn’t give it away that he thought as much, because he was doing it on purpose after all.

After spending a few months with you, he’d noticed how quickly you placed him into your routine. As much as he enjoyed that, he wanted to change it up. He learned a lot about you, from the way you twirl your pencil when your bored, to the way you tuck your hair behind your ears when you’re embarrassed. Even your cute ugly laugh when he does something stupid.

He loved all those things, loved that you share them with him, but you were still hiding a part of yourself, and Jin was determined to find it and uncover it. He just wants you to be completely, wholly, and unapologetically you, because to him, nothing could be better.

To say he became quite infatuated with you with every new discovery would be an understatement. He felt like a lovesick puppy sometimes, and all he wanted was to hold you in his arms and tell you dumb jokes to make you smile.

Of course, you probably only thought of him as a friend, and Jin was totally fine with that. He was just happy that you’d accepted him at all, and he wasn’t about to ruin that over what was probably just a silly crush.

So, Jin had come up with this ‘clever’ plan to get you to actually talk to him. With everything he’s learned about you, he knew how impatient you could be, especially when frustrated.

If he signs so bad you can’t understand him, you’ll quickly get fed up and open your mouth, considering you’d caught yourself almost doing so numerous times before. While Jin was also very anxious about stirring up your wrath, he thought it would most likely be worth it in the long run if he could get you to speak.

And you were quickly falling into his trap.

How in the hell was he not seeing that his structure was making zero sense? You try to sign to him, tell him to knock it off, but he just looks at you confused. He knows these signs so why is he acting like he doesn’t understand you?

You could feel a few wandering eyes, knowing fully well that they were getting a laugh out of your charades session with Jin. You could feel the heat creep up your neck, and you wanted so badly to tell him to piss off, stop messing with you, to cuss him out.

You bit your tongue for as long as you could, but the dam finally collapsed, your fist flying into his shoulder.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Quite being an asshole!” You whisper shout at him, and the cheering erupts in Jin’s mind, confetti cannons bursting, a song of victory playing on loop.

He couldn’t help the smile that quickly took over his face, no matter how intense your death glare was. He wanted to lunge forward and hug you, for you to say something again.

He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he was dying to hear his name drip from your lips, no matter the context.

“Sorry, what was that?” He prodded, softly punching your shoulder back.

Rolling your eyes, you tense at the realization you just spoke out loud. What the hell were you thinking? That was just it, you weren’t.

Your hand flies to cover your mouth, not wanting to make eye contact with Jin. You didn’t know what to expect except the absolute worse, and when he rests his hand on your knee, you look up.

His expression is sympathetic, “You know, you don’t have to be scared to talk to me.” His voice is low as to not scare you.

You search his eyes for a telltale sign that he’s affected. Usually, their eyes turn a bit hazy, but his were clear as day.

Considering you’d just cut yourself off from people as best you could, you weren’t sure if there was a possibility there were people out there that couldn’t be affected. Obviously others like you weren’t, but you could tell when you were near another sea-born, almost like a telepathic bond you had with your kind.

Jin was an enigma to say the least.

The fear that coursed through your veins subsided a bit, and it was slowly replaced with a building excitement. You might have found someone, a human none the less, that you could finally speak to. Your time of solitude might have finally been over.

Jin was scared to say anything else. He thought maybe he’d pushed you to far, been unfair, and built a new barrier between the two of you. It was when he saw the smile crawl onto your face that he realized he might have just cracked you right open.

Seeing that smile, one full of potential and excitement he didn’t quite understand, was like caffeine to the butterflies in his stomach. His heart raced a mile a minute, a warmth coursing through his veins filling him with an energy he’d never known before.

Now this was something he could get used to.

What he wasn’t expecting was for you to lunge forward and wrap your arms tightly around his neck, taking him a second to pull himself from the shock to return the hug.

“You wanna go somewhere and talk?” He asks, and your eyes light up.

You pull him up from his seat in the library, heading towards the dorms nodding your head.

“By the way,” you start, Jin following close behind you. You turn your head to look over your shoulder at him, a smirk on your face, “I know you did that on purpose, Jin.”

He knows he should’ve been worried by the tone behind your words, but once his name left your lips, that was all he could focus on the whole walk to your room.

“Never? Like, never ever?” Jin’s face contorts in amused surprise. He’d been questioning you for the past hour about everything under the sun, from childhood pet trauma to inappropriate crushes.

You roll your eyes, though a giggle escapes your lips, “No, I’ve never ever thought of a teacher that way.” You hold his pillow tighter to your chest as he falls over the end of his bed, clearly exasperated and not believing you for a second.

“There’s no way. There are at least, like, 3 of your professors that are, objectively, sexy as hell and you’re telling me you’ve never thought about?”

You shake your head, “Nope, not once.” The laughter easily flows from your lips as he gets frustrated.

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say.” He smirks at you, and you pretend to get defensive.

“What, and you have?” That sends him over the edge in giggles, rolling around the bed, causing the whole thing to shake, including you.

He lifts himself up and stares at you, “Of course! I’m a normal, healthy man aren’t I?” You’re not sure how to respond without laughing and making him question himself, so you just playfully smack his arm and agree.

“Fine, fine. I guess I’m just a weirdo then.”

“Amen to that!” He bounces, smirking at you, earning himself another slap. He fakes hurt and snatches the pillow from your arms, pouting.

“I may be a weirdo, but you’re just a big baby.” Your hand caresses through his brown locks, his eyes peeking from the edge of the pillow, the smile in them giving himself away.

Being able to talk to each other out loud opened many new doors for the two of you in the weeks that followed. It was exciting to get to know someone on an intimate level like this, without fear of it going south the way it had before.

It was, surprisingly, normal. The most normal you had felt in a long, long time.

Suddenly you had someone to share your thoughts and feelings with, even the most mundane of them. Friendship unlocked this whole new side of yourself you’d never experienced before.

Jin felt the same way. He didn’t realize how he was just blowing through life like it was nothing until he met you. Every minute was spent finding something new he cherished about you, instead of wasting it away with childish things like he had in the past.

He found new meaning in every day, spending more time living and having fun with you, rather than complaining about his trials and tribulations to Namjoon and Yoongi (which they were utterly grateful to you for).

You both had something to look forward to every day; each other.

In the beginning you thought you were total opposites bound for failure. Jin was this upbeat, extrovert with a wild side. You were the quiet, introvert scared of human interaction.

Turns out you both just needed a nudge to find there was more in common there than you thought.

You both could be loud, stubborn, silly, and an absolute mess.

Could be quiet, modest, and hide yourselves away.

Both could be intense and emotional, but there for the other no matter what.

Jin was the yin to your yang. You could be whatever the other needed at any specific moment in time.

You both didn’t want to admit it to each other quite yet, but he was your best friend, the only person you wanted and needed, and vice versa.

You’d never experienced love before, didn’t know what it felt like or what to expect, but you believed in your heart it had to be something like this.

As you get up off the bed to put your shoes on and head back to your room, his hand wraps gently around your wrist. It’s late, the light of the moon seeping through his blinds, and he can’t help but admire the way it lights up your face as you turn to look at him.

“Stay?” He asks, and you don’t even have to answer.

Cuddling up to each other under the multitude of blankets covering his bed, you can’t help but truly feel at peace for the first time in your life, with your head laying on his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat echoing through your ears as you both fall asleep.

You stayed in bed all day. Didn’t answer your phone when it went off, didn’t answer the door when he knocked, just stayed wrapped in your blanket, eyes focused on the clouds beyond your window.

It was the third anniversary of the incident. You didn’t know what else to call it. Black clouds hung over you, and the feeling like everything you had built with Jin would crumble the same way cast them harsher overhead.

You hadn’t even told him about it yet, amazed he had never once pushed you to do so either. Jin was curious by nature, but he knew some things about your past were off limits, and he respected that.

That didn’t stop him from worrying about the distance lately. You are his best friend, and you spent a majority of your time together. So when that came to an abrupt halt the day before, he desperately wanted to find out why so he could help pull you out it.

He missed you, and he hated knowing something was wrong that he couldn’t fix.

You were just about to pull yourself up to make a cup of tea when a loud series of knocks came from your door. You figured it was probably Jin again, but when they got harsher and faster, you decide to check just in case.

The mug you cradled in your hands fell to the floor, a light crash sounding out as it cracked into pieces.

“Shit.”

You picked them up as quickly as possible, tossing them to the trash and returning to the door.

A cold rush bled through your veins, a violent churn brewing in your stomach as you opened the door.

You didn’t even have time to prepare yourself before she was in your face, visibly distressed.

Her brown hair the same as it had been that day she locked eyes with you as you were escorted from the station, watching an officer hold her as back as she tried to go after you.

You thought she’d given up on crucifying you, or at least tried to. You never expected after three years for her to show up in person, eyes blazing in search of vengeance.

“I heard you’ve lured some new victim into your trap, where is he? Or have you already strung him up like you did Jay?” She spit, venom lacing every syllable.

You didn’t have much of a choice, so you moved away from her assault, giving her full access to search your room.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Look, Lia, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that I’m sorry.” You keep your voice soft as not to stir the pot, but it doesn’t help. She’s visibly enraged and nothing was going to change that.

She pauses her search to rush you, get in your face, causing you to retreat, but she holds you in place like a rag doll.

“I won’t ever accept your apology. You killed my brother you bitch,” her grip on your arms tighten, causing you to wince.

“If you think, even for a second, that his death wasn’t all because of you, then you’re fucking thick. If it wasn’t for you, he’d still be here!” She choked, tears streaming down her face.

Paralyzed. You felt nothing, not the warm tears on your cheeks, the grip of her hand on your arm, the sharp sting as the other made contact with your face. Even as she left and a new figure entered your line of vision, you stood there; empty.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Jin wants to reach out for you, but is scared it might make things worse. It’s when you collapse in his arms he lets the breath he’d been holding in out, wrapping his arms around you, cradling you tight as you cry.

He’d never seen another person talk to you, let alone assault you like that girl just had. He was still processing everything that happened, and couldn’t help but wonder how far it would’ve gone if he hadn’t shown up.

A few minutes later, he’s holding you cuddled up in a blanket on your bed as the crying subsides.

Jin wants to ask what the hell happened, who that girl was, and why you just stood there and let her hurt you? There was no way in hell you could’ve done anything to deserve that outburst.

He peeks down at your tear stained face, red and wet snuggled into his chest. His heart felt like it was being crushed inside of him. Seeing you in such a state physically hurt him.

He hears you sniffle and looks down to see you peering up at him through wet lashes.

“I have to tell you something.”

Out of every possible thing you could’ve told him, this was not even in the realm of things he could’ve expected.

He was still trying to grasp the whole ‘siren’ thing, which should’ve sent him running for the hills, but the way you explained what happened with the guy first year, then the incident with his sister a few hours earlier, he didn’t think he could just walk away.

His mind and heart were in a battle, one choosing sanity and the other choosing you. The way you refused to look him in the eyes as you spilled your darkest secrets cast a heavy sadness onto him. He not only felt the pain from your words, but the pain you were feeling.

He knew he should’ve ran to comfort you, hold you, tell you it’d be alright and that it wasn’t your fault.

But a dark thought kept him rooted to his seat across the room from you.

What if it was?

He didn’t want to think this way, to believe that you could be behind something so horrible, but with the revelation of your ‘affliction’ his mind couldn’t help but wonder there.

You said it left people feeling like there was no other way. Like they were forced to pine for you, to long for you, until they couldn’t take it any more.

He’d heard stories of creatures from the sea that lured men to their deaths. Now he was face to face with one, and he was torn between the you he knew and the you he read about.

The horrid thought that everything he felt for you was all a trick made him sick to his stomach, and he couldn’t bring himself to look at you.

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but once that thought took hold, he couldn’t break free from it.

He needed air, space, time to think.

All of this meant walking away from you.

A part of you knew it from the way his face dropped as you snuck a peek from the corner of your eye. It didn't stop the sinking feeling that you once again ruined everything.

You didn’t even bother looking at him as he left, missing the horrible attempt at a fake smile as he went, slightly shaking.

As Jin closed the door behind him, you both let a few tears free fall, crying for everything you had built together as it all came crashing down.

You didn’t care about Lia, the incident, anything. You just wished you’d never come here, met Jin, and hurt him. He deserved better than a monster.

And a monster is all you’d be.

“I’m just happy you’re finally coming home sweetheart. Your dad and I miss you.” A pathetic little smile formed on your lips, holding the phone with your shoulder as you finished packing the last things into your suitcase.

“I miss you guys too. See you in a few hours.” You set your phone down and cross the room to grab the book you’d been reading and shove it in your bag.

Christmas break finally arrived to relieve you of the dragging of classes and stuffy dorm. It’d been a while since you’d found time to go home, but you realized this was something you needed.

To get away.

It’d been over a month, and you quickly fell back into your old habits. Class, room, nothing in between. You dropped Psych, avoiding Jin at all costs, although he’d figured he’d done his best to avoid you as well.

The warmth that had taken up space in your previously empty life had fled as quickly as it came. You didn’t talk to anyone, you didn’t sign to anyone, you took on extra classes to finish early. You wanted to be done. You wanted to go home.

Luckily, you had the opportunity to take all online classes your last semester, so you would not be returning to the dorms in the spring. That chapter of your life was over, and even though you were sad to see it go, you knew there was nothing holding you here anymore.

The hassle of it all just wasn’t worth it.

Grabbing the few things you had left, the rest of which you had sold since you wouldn’t need it anymore, you made your way out of the room, locking it for the last time. Before you turned to head down the hallway, you took one last look down the hall to a familiar door.

You figured he’d probably already left for the holiday, since most of the dorms had. Not that it mattered, you wouldn’t speak to him and he wouldn’t speak to you.

Strangers once again.

The once resentment you harbored towards him for cutting you off without explanation was filled with sympathy. You couldn’t expect him to understand and accept you after everything that had happened. You wanted him to live a normal happy life, fall in love with a normal girl that would be good for him.

You couldn’t give him that and you had to accept that. In the end, you were happy with the time you did have together. He’d always be your best friend, no matter how much time and distance separated you.

You both harbored no ill feelings towards each other, it was just something that had to be done, something that was inevitable in your opinion. People like you and people like him just weren’t meant to be.

Grabbing the handle of your suitcase, you make your way down to the lobby to return your key and head to the train station before your train left.

Stepping out of the elevator, you see a familiar figure standing at the front desk, back towards you.

You could tell that brown hair from anywhere though, and you slowed your pace to give him enough time to leave.

Instead, he turns in your direction, a bag in one hand, an envelope in the other.

Your eyes meet, and you have half a mind to just keep walking, you could mail them the key once you were home.

He quickly blocks your path, however, eyes not leaving yours.

It’s awkward and intense and neither of you know what to say, or whether you should say anything at all. After a minute, Jin clears his throat, extending the envelope out to you.

You stare at it, and look back up at him as he shakes it, inviting you to take it.

“I wanted to leave you this before I went home, but since we’re here...” You take it from him, but as you are about to open it, he steps closer and lays his hand over yours.

He stares down at you, his expression soft, like it had been months before when he held you in his arms at night. You had missed that, so, so much.

“I-I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry,” he starts, a red tinge finding solace at the tips of his ears.

“I shouldn’t have left you like I did. I was just, scared. I didn’t know what to think about everything and I thought maybe I was being affected,” he cringes at that, voicing his thoughts of you possibly ‘controlling’ him made him feel like a dumbass, “I know, it was stupid and not fair at all. I just...” he pauses his rant, waiting for any hint of a reaction from you, but you stay silent, waiting for him to finish saying whatever was on his mind.

He takes in a deep breath, “I thought that everything I felt for you might not have been real. I got scared it was all in my head and I didn’t know what to do. But, I realized that everything about me and you was the only sure and real thing in my life. I missed the way you roll your eyes at me when I make dumb jokes, the way your noise crinkles up when your trying to understand something, the way you laugh obnoxiously when I do something stupid,” His hand moves forward to grasp yours as he continues his rant.

“I miss listening to you try to convince me that Spider-Man is the most earnest Avenger even though we both know he’s not,” that earns a crack of a grin despite the tears forming in your eyes. “I miss holding you close at night and hearing our heartbeats mix together in the open air as we fall asleep.”

Jin cups your cheek in his other hand, thumb sliding to wipe away a fallen tear. You lean into his hand, reminiscing in the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I miss you.” He says, his face inching closer to yours, your breaths mixing together between the two of you. You don’t know what to say, but luckily he takes initiative and slowly closes the gap between you.

A warmth envelopes both of you, spreading from your lips and seeping into every fiber of your bodies. The feeling of his lips against yours steals the air from your lungs and heightens every one of your senses. His hands find purchase on the small of your back, your arms curling around his neck to dispel any space between you.

The tension that releases from you is replaced with what you can only describe as pure love.

As you pull apart, Jin rests his forehead against yours, placing another kiss to your lips as you giggle.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to figure out. I love you.” His smile spreads to yours and you rub the tips of your noses together.

“I love you too,” he leans in for another kiss, but you stop him, a smirk on your lips, “even though you most definitely are a dumb-ass.” He laughs, breathily and pulls you tighter to him.

“I deserve that. I’m your dumb-ass, though.”

You part ways to head home for break with the promise of seeing each other in a few days to spend Christmas together.

When you settled onto the train, you pulled the forgotten envelope from your coat pocket, taking the letter out that resided inside.

As the train began its journey, you read every word of the letter with warmth in your heart.

In detail, was every single thing about you he had fallen in love with.

He’d fallen in love with you; all of you.

And he’d never walk away again.

You’d never be alone again.

The End.

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Hey Guys,

First story is officially out! Hope I did you all and Mr. Worldwide Handsome justice. This ended up being longer than I originally anticipated, but I think it needed it to really set everything up. Also, if there are any typos or grammatical errors, feel free to let me know, I’m human, I make mistakes. Kicking off 7 Days of Halloween with a cute little Jin-ie love story, what could be better? I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Stay Spooky! More to come!

P.S. Sorry it’s a bit late, Tumblr is on the fritz and wouldn’t let me post it.

-Moonie🌙

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kouvei · 5 years ago

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I got tagged by both @kiwibirdlafayette and @sweetdollywrites and didn’t notice it until now ^^;

Tagging: ...I feel like I’m a bit behind on this and most of the people I can think of have probably already been tagged, so if you want to do this, consider yourself tagged!

1. what’s a motivation for your writing?

I mostly just love making up stories and since I usually write stories I want to read, I want to be able to read my own work again.

2. which of your characters do you love to hate?

Okay, this is a tiny spoilery thing, but Mordred’s current life family. They are all awful in different ways and I hate them so much, but they make for great antagonists.

3. what inspired you to write your wip?

I read Avalon High back in middle school and then sometime in high school, my mind was searching for a new story to occupy myself with and I thought up a story about Arthurian characters. I enjoyed it so I thought up a second one later and started writing my wip.

4. which of your characters would you go watch a movie with?

Hm... Kay. Okay, technically, not entirely my character(almost none are, really) but I’m ignoring that for now. He’d be fun to talk about the movie with later and if we were just watching the movie at home, not in a theater, he’d be up to Mystery Science Theater it with me. (Incidentally, that’s also how I get through horror movies: mocking them until they can’t hurt me.)

5. what old wip would you really like to reboot?

There was a story I worked on a while back about a group of fairytale-esque villains being kidnapped and “reformed” while they’re all really resistant to the idea. They keep pointing out how the morality they’re being fed has some real issues and talk about why they did what they did. For instance, when the reformer guy starts lecturing about how stealing is wrong under any circumstances, a few of them point out a bunch of situations where that is not true. They’re not innocent by any means, and they eventually acknowledge they did some truly awful things and try to be better, but the guy trying to reform them also acknowledges his black-and-white view of the world is probably wrong too.

6. what’s an unpopular opinion you have regarding writing?

It’s a weird one and one I have from experience. I think writers should know punctuation and capitalization grammar before writing, for their own sake. Because especially with dialogue, word or grammar checking doesn’t usually catch that and when you do learn it or want to publish your work, going back and correcting is a MASSIVE pain and with any works you haven’t corrected, it’s not fun reading them when your mind keeps getting swamped with errors.

7. would you say your style’s more ornate or bare-bones?

Probably bare-bones.

8. would you want your story as an rpg game?

Yep! Or at least certain parts of the story.

9. your story’s getting an adaptation! live-action or animated?

I don’t know if I can decide! Assuming it’s either what I’d want it to be in either a live-action or animated(i.e. art style if animated, not Eragon if live-action), I might go with live-action if it’s a movie, animated if a TV show.

10. do you like to draw your characters as well as writing about them?

Very much yes!

1. Why do you write? (ie; what’s your motivation?)

Already answered above.

2. Who, of your characters would you want to spend a day with?

Ooh... that’s a hard one... Mordred probably. Although I would really like to hang out with Arthur or Morgana too.

3. What’s your favorite part of writing?

Dialogue. Might be obvious in my writing, but I like to write interactions between characters.

4. What is one genre and/or trope you despise writing?

There’s a couple, but a less serious one is framing. You know, the evil Badguy McVillain usurped the throne and framed the heir for treason and murder and everyone believes him? 99/100 times whenever I read it I have to put the book down to cool down. Usually if I write it, I’m fine, since I can do it in that 1/100 way that doesn’t stress me out to infinity and beyond.

5. Who are your biggest influences?

Riordan is very much an influence, I love his sense of humor and how he incorporates myth into a modern setting. J.K. Rowling used to be, but it’s turned into using some of her base ideas and going in a different direction for... a lot of reasons.

6. If your work got a film deal- Animated or Live action?

Specifically for film, then live-action. I just have a weird preference for live-action films but animated tv shows. Not sure why.

7. Are you more of an outline person or write-as-you go person?

Both, usually. I have some idea of where I’m going and some plot points to get there, but the in-between is up in the air.

8. What’s the most emotional thing you’ve ever written?

I’m not 100% sure, but it’s probably a reunion scene. I like to write those. For instance, one of my old wips has a scene where the main character meets her previously brainwashed brother, who remembers everything he did, and she hugs him while he’s crying and apologizing for something he had no control over.

9. Would you want to live in the world(s) of your story?

Yes! It has modern conveniences and technology with magic and a medieval air. Also, earth’s basically the same as it is now, just with the option to go to Avalon if you want and a slight risk of getting stuck in the middle of a monster or magic attack.

10. (and, because I’ve seen most do this)- Any goals for your WIP?

I really want to finish the first book and publish it, then write the next book and make a series.

My Questions:

Why do you write?

If your wip got a tv show, live-action or animated?

What’s your favorite thing about writing?

What’s your least favorite thing about writing?

Do you like to plan more or see where the story takes you?

Who is your favorite character to write?

What plotline do you want to put in your wip but probably won’t be able to?

What old wip do you want to start working on again?

What is/are your favorite wip(s)?

Which of your characters would you like as a roommate?

#ask game

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comicteaparty · 4 years ago

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June 13th-June 19th, 2020 Creator Babble Archive

The archive for the Creator Babble chat that occurred from June 13th, 2020 to June 19th, 2020. The chat focused on the following question:

What is your physical and digital workspace like when you’re working on your story?

🌈ERROR404 🌈

LOL it really depends on what stage I'm in of the process - My storyboarding space is at home, as comfortable as I can be, a beer and some food at the ready and pure silence. The cats have to be freshly fed, otherwise I'll be harassed and lose my headspace entirely LOL. I usually work on my story boards digitally, just at a very small scale, with my script/outline on my computer and working on my ipad! The double screen helps a LOT, although i would just print out the script if I had access to a printer, haha. When I'm working on the actual page itself, it's a very different story. I usually just try and work on it in tiny little batches during the day when I'm stuck at home, and usually work around the animals as best i can, lmao. Truthfully, I really prefer to be in a coffee shop when I'm working on finishing pages, it makes me so much more productive than i am in this house with so many things to take care of right in front of me, but, obviously, that's a bit difficult to do these days. ;; I usually reserve food and drink until after I pass a milestone in inking/sketching to help motivate me to keep going for as much as I can before taking a break, and I need some kind of music or video playing in the background to keep myself from being absolutely bored out of my mind. My shading process, since it's in black and white, is very easy and i can finish it in one setting, easy, no matter what I'm working with. I also work digitally for my pages, of course, although I don't need more than my ipad and clip studio for it!

DaeofthePast

freshly fed cats

🌈ERROR404 🌈

They are BEASTS when hungry, the little bastards (love them)

I may only work in peace when they're post-food napping lmao

DaeofthePast

we only have one, but same

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I work almost entirely in the corner of my IKEA couch at home I used to work at a proper desk with a Cintiq, but when I switched to Procreate on an iPad, I migrated to the couch and surrounded myself with a nest of clothes and blankets and books and... here I am, bein' cozy. With terrible posture But when I was between jobs last year, I did rent a little coworking space down the street so I could get out of my pajamas and go get comic stuff done there. It was a godsend. I like drawing at my favorite coffee shop every so often too, but I tend to hide my work while I draw, and there, everyone can look over my shoulder The coworking space had a tall artist desk that was rarely used, so I often grabbed that one. Not cheap, but to stave off cabin fever, heck yes, worth it.

🌈ERROR404 🌈

Ahhh I've been really thinking about getting a studio space one of these days I really shouldn't rn, with my finances as they are, but I could REALLY make use of one recently

LadyLazuli (Phantomarine)

I loved the space I used last year. They recently had to close for... current-event reasons... and are going to reopen with all sorts of plexiglass barriers between the desks I feel so bad for them. Good studio spaces are wonderful, I would support them again if I ever was out of a job!

🌈ERROR404 🌈

it's good they've found ways to make it safer, though!

carcarchu

My old workspace was in the basement of my home in canada and it was always perpetually freezing even in the summer and i was frequently visited by spiders so my current workspace is a huge improvement in that regard. I do miss my old ergonomic desk chair though. I'm definitely not the kind of person who can draw in bed or on the couch. I need to be in workmode and having a designated space just for that is necessary for me to get in the right headspace for that.

DaeofthePast

my workspace rn is just my desk with my laptop and my drawing tablet. my laptop is stacked on top of a pile of books so i can see the screen (otherwise my tablet blocks my line of sight). it's kinda simple

chalcara [Nyx+Nyssa]

Depends. I have a Cintiq Mobile Studio, so I can draw pretty much every where and sometimes in the oddest position, but most of the time I am on my desk with the cintiq hooked up to a second monitor so I don't have to look down so much.(edited)

Holmeaa - working on WAYFINDERS

For Wayfinders: Thumbnails are somewhere cozy and the only physical work. Me and Q sit and plan them out together. The rest of wayfinders are made on Photoshop, and flat colors in clip paint studio. In the world I would love a nice studio place in an office with others. During corentine I have been working from home, and I am not that good at it, being quite the extrovert. Before corentine I was in a artist residency where I worked on Wayfinders which had a workstation and all the programs we could need. It is so nice and me and Q are going to return there when it opens up again!

Miranda

I have an iPad so usually on the couch, cozied up with coffee and pillows and blankets. But sometimes at the table. But usually on the couch like the gremlin I am

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

I have a large drafting table, a mini drafting table, and a lapdesk in my papasan when we ink/draw! Toning and letters are all done on the desktop in its own space

Miranda

I need to get a good lap desk. But that sounds like a grand setup!

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

My first time hearing about a lapdesk

Omg I need one

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

They are the best things ever Mine has just the pencil holder !(some come with cup holders and its a waste of space imo)

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

Wow I like your setup of the drafting tables

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

I wanna show pics of them....if im allowed in this chat?

Joichi [Hybrid Dolls]

I hope so, I'm not sure which channel we can post studio photos at? I did see some did before?

FeatherNotes(Krispy)

Ill post in shop talk since creator babble gets archived

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

my current space is uh.... a bit better than my last one. I used to work on an old writers desk for a decade and I did most of my comic work sitting there cramped up with my desktop taking most of the space. Now I have an L shaped desk where I have my desktop on the shorter end. The longer end it's my pen, pencils, and watercolor stuff. my display tablet occupy the space at times so switching from digital and traditional without worrying about setup hassle is a lot better than what I dealt with before lol.

I'm glad the days I had to curl up and draw with no privacy are long gone now

kayotics

I’ve got a little drafting table where I draw all my comic pages. I’m messy with my pens so they’re kind of strewn about until I start to lose them. Then I put them back. I’m not particularly neat. I spend most of the comic process off the computer, so most of my digital work is just on an iPad where I can sit anywhere. I try to keep good lighting around my drafting table and there’s always loose eraser shavings all over.

Natasha Berlin (Pot of Gold)

I got myself a lil corner desk by the dining table. Not as well-lit as I'd like, but it's decently ergonomic and I started putting posters on my wall Plus I can leave work mindset easily by turning off my computer and forgetting about the dark corner in the dining room XD(edited)

sssfrs (JOE IS DEAD)

My desk is really sloppy and covered in all kinds of junk. I have a harmonica, a ball of yarn, a bunch of ink bottles, etc on my desk. I have my sketchbook under my tablet and usually a notebook somewhere for writing. My tablet sits to the right of my laptop (on top of sketchbook) while I'm not using it and when I'm using it it goes over my computer keyboard. I sometimes have a glass of water or some food sitting to the lefthand side

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

The only thing I wanna share about my workspace is this

once i spent over three hours looking for that damned pen

never again

🌈ERROR404 🌈

Ajkdhfkjs the models for hte magazine im crying

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh my God

shadowhood (SunnyxRain)

mad giggling

Deo101 [Millennium]

youre gonna manage to lose the string

Tuyetnhi (Only In Your Dreams!)

omg

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

i know in my heart deo is right but still i hope

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

You should weld a metal chain to it

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Watch me lose the whole tablet

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh nooo

I believe in you!

TaliePlume

My workspace is a black table with a white, yellow, blue and green tablecloth with 3 black chairs. It's next to the kitchen. On it, is my laptop and the left side is my clipboard, 3 blue folders full of writing. Then above it, is 3 sketchbooks and another blue folder from a class that I took in community college.

June 16, 2020

sagaholmgaard

I have one long desk at almost three meters. On the left side is all my coffee and tea supplies, in the middle is my work space and on the right is my dining table xD I get everything done from there, despite having a mobilestudio so I COULD sit anywhere and work, lol. It's a blessing during holiday seasons to be able to bring it everywhere, but at some I like my designated working space. Although I am moving in a few weeks, so who knows what my new workspace will be

Moral_Gutpunch

My workspace is anywhere I can draw or write. It's more of a "Will I be interrupted over something petty or stupid" issue than space. Not that I don't want more space.

Mitzi (Trophallaxis)

My workspace is a big, broken corner desk I managed to lug out of an old apartment when it was gonna be trashed. Before then, I'd just draw in bed. I don't remember, but I'm pretty sure the folding chair I sit at is a similar affair. It's got a Dollar General throw pillow on it so I can at least say I'm trying to save my back. The top of the desk is a mess of mostly old bottles and cans, pencils, incense ash, and my old tarot deck. I love this setup dearly. This is the first time I've ever had my own desk space, much less a space I can decorate or leave as messy as I want. Got my own art up on the walls with sticky tack and all! Also the cat's scratching post is directly behind me, because we've learned the cat won't use it unless it's as in the way as possible. What can ya do, lol.

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

Oh cats...

Desnik

I got spoiled with an adjustable desk. It is six feet long, and has a whiteboard top for noodling with dry erase markers

my main computer is set up on an adjustable stand so it floats over the desk, and then I have my cintiq, which we tried to mount on a similar stand but then it was just too heavy

I keep my dice collection nearby because fidgeting helps think things through sometimes

and rolling to make odd decisions never hurts

lately during the quarantine I've been sharing the office with my spouse so we've had to establish rules over when it's okay to bug each other(edited)

oh yeah and we also have a whiteboard installed in the office, and it rules!(edited)

Shizamura 🌟 O Sarilho

Mine is pretty simple: I have a laptop that's long stopped being portable and is now mostly just sitting at my desk at all times and a 19 inch Ugee as my display. I usually keep a lot of stuff on top of my desk, but it's mostly just a mess because I have been using it for work too for a while now

Cronaj (Whispers of the Past)

I suppose I'll talk about my setup too :) My main setup is where I do digital art. I share an office with my SO, so we both have workspaces on opposite walls from each other. I work on a corner desk that holds my beefy computer, two monitors, and a Huion Kamvas GT-191. That's where I draw my comic and pretty much everything else done digitally. Ngl, it's a mess right now. I have comic notes and location floor plans in sketchbooks and DnD character sheets spread out all over the surface, and random pens and sticky notes. In the corner of the room, we have a nice large-format printer where I produce prints for conventions. I actually sketch my pages on an iPad pro in Procreate, so during the sketch phase, sometimes I'll just bundle up on my couch and do it, or before quarantine, sometimes I'd sketch on the go. My other workspace (which hasn't gotten much love as of late tbh) is a drafting table in the corner of our living room. I keep a tabletop easel on it and my Copic markers, as well as whatever I'm working on at the moment. (RN it's some ink washes.) The drawers hold all my ink, pencils, erasers, etc. Next to the drafting table is where I keep all my large charcoal, graphite, and oil pastel drawings (mostly school projects), and my large paintings. Other than that, I have a nifty little cart where I keep painting supplies :) I will say, this setup is by far an enormous improvement from my previous setups.

#ctparchive #comics #webcomics #indie comics #comic chat #comic discussion #comic tea party #ctp #creator interview #comic creator interview #creator babble

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thetortureartist · 5 years ago

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Introduction

About me . . .

I am a Dominant, Male, Feeder. . . . An artist, skilled in the areas of Sculpting, Drawing, Painting, Woodworking, Leatherworking Etc. I enjoy expressing my kinks and interests through my art and writing, as well as making my own BDSM equipment and toys.

I have been involved in the BDSM lifestyle, and BDSM community for over eighteen years. My kinks and interests include. . . . Curvy/Thick Girls, BDSM, Pregnant Girls, Enemas, Fat Girls, Feederism, Really Fat Girls, Inflation of all types, including, Fluids, Air, Cum, Food/Stuffing. Etc. . . . Pretty much anything that involves, or results in a girl having a big, round belly. . . . Extremely Fat Girls, Force Feeding, Teasing & Humiliation, Piggy Play, Corporal Play & Punishment . . . and many other related activities that would fall within the BDSM & Feederism lifestyles. . . . Oh . . . and did I mention that I like . . . FAT GIRLS??? . . . Honestly, I appreciate, and I am attracted to beauty in all shapes & sizes. . . . From "Average" to Extremely Huge.

While my "Real Life" involvement in BDSM goes back some eighteen-plus years. . . . My awareness of, and interest in it, has existed since I was very young . . . as early as eleven as I recall.

But my interest and attraction to Feeding and Fat Girls goes back even further . . . to when I was very, very young. I have had an obsession with Fat Girls, the act of feeding them, and making them fatter, almost as long as I can remember.

Both my interest in BDSM and Feederism existing long before I was aware of a sexual/arousal connection.

I can remember being as young as seven or eight. . . . Drawing cartoons of a very hungry girl going from one fast food restaurant to another. . . . Eating and eating . . . growing progressively fatter. . . . Her belly expanding against the table, and pinning her in the booth. . . . Her clothes gradually splitting at the seams. . . . Until finally, she ended up lying flat on her back, too fat and gorged full to move.

I also drew other cartoons of girls being forcibly fed and fattened . . . by usually unseen antagonists, or sometimes by machines. . . . Fed until they were incredibly huge and often perfectly round.

I kept those cartoons well hidden, and was always scared to death someone would find them. . . . I wish I still had those crude cartoons. . . . But sadly, they are long gone. . . . Having been destroyed at some point for fear of being discovered.

So you could say my perversion has been life long. . . . How or why I initially became exposed to it, or how these kinks and interests became so engrained in me I cannot say.

But I do remember . . . the 1937 Merry Melodies cartoon "Pigs Is Pigs" captivated me from the time I first saw it as a child. And it has stuck with me all my life. . . . It certainly contained themes of BDSM and Feeding. . . . Force Feeding against someones will to be exact.

The 1951 cartoon "Chow Hound" also sticks in my mind. . . . Particularly the end scene with the forced, funnel feeding.

So blame cartoons again if you must. . . . But I for one, am so glad someone decided to make those silly little cartoons all those years ago. . . . Though I am sure their intention was to tell a "moral lesson", rather than creating arousal . . . Ooops!

There is also the 1971 movie "Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory" . . . You know . . . the Blueberry Girl scene! . . . Yet another intended moral lesson gone awry. . . . Turned into a life-long perversion/kink for many out there.

But I am who I am. . . . I make no excuses for it . . . and I know there are many, many others out there . . . both male and female, just like me.

About my art and writing.

I am a perverse, imaginative individual, with a highly creative, extremely fertile mind. . . . I have countless thoughts and ideas, and enjoy expressing my kinks and perversions in the form of drawings, sculptures and written material. etc.

Over the years I have created these works primarily for my own personal enjoyment, and as a means of purging my thoughts and ideas, to make room for new ones. . . . When I come up with a thought or idea, it tends to stick with me until I do something with it. . . . So . . . sketching the idea out, or writing it down allows me to get it out of my head and recorded into some tangible form. . . . Thus leaving my brain free to create other new ideas.

Unfortunately most of this material exists only in the form of sketchy outlines, disconnected scenarios and ideas, rough sketches or doodles. Most of it not developed enough for any kind of public dissemination.

Often times I may work at something, getting it partially developed . . . then, Real Life issues or some new idea interferes, and draws my attentions elsewhere. Some of these ideas may often sit for months . . . or in some cases, years before I come back to them.

Recently, I have been trying to bring some of these works to the point of completion. And I have decided to finally post some of these publicly for the enjoyment of those who are like minded . . . and share my particular kinks.

However, my Real Life / work situation often leaves me very little time for these indulgences . . . an hour here . . . thirty minutes there. So postings may be few and far between. . . . But, I do have a few works nearing completion, and will post when I can.

I am posting on Tumblr first. . . . I had set up a Tumblr account some time ago with the intention of starting to post there. . . . But then Tumblr had their morality implosion. . . . Though I do still see such material being posted there . . . having to scroll through their dashboard to look at stuff is a fucking pain in the ass.

So I was going to use Twitter . . . as it seemed to be the place to where most have gravitated. . . . But discovered while it is well suited for the posting of pictures . . . it is not well suited for the posting of longer writings.

I have also had a Deviant Art account for many years . . . but never have posted anything there. . . . Turns out, Deviant Art isn't as “deviant” as they profess to be. . . . I am not fond of their censorship practices.

There are other places to post this sort of material . . . but for now, Tumblr seems to be the place to start. . . . I may also cross post to Deviant Art to see what happens. . . . If I do post material anyplace else, I will post appropriate info and links.

By no means do I consider myself a "writer". . . . My writing is crude at best. But let's face it, I am not attempting to write the next best seller, or block buster film here. This is masturbation material! . . . Fatty Porn . . . Fatty-rotica if you will. . . . If my writing manages to make some cocks hard, and some pussies wet . . . well then . . . mission accomplished!

This material is not for everyone. . . . It is intended for “mature” adults only. . . . If you ARE NOT interested in such subject matter, please go elsewhere! . . . There are countless diversions on the internet to entertain you.

For those who are incapable of understanding or accepting this sort of material. Who seek it out purely for the "Freak Factor", and "Shock Value". . . . Who feel compelled to post comments telling me what a Sick Pervert I am . . . a Twisted Fuck . . . a Perverted Freak . . . that I am Fucked In the Head . . . Etc. Etc.

Thank you! . . . I am well aware of this. . . . I embrace it . . . I promote it . . . I live it . . . and I do my best to indulge it, nurture it and grow it every chance I get. ;)

So please don't waste your time and effort, or the time of those who do enjoy such material. . . . Just go find something that you enjoy, whatever it is, and focus your attentions there. . . . Trust me my friend . . . there will come a point in your life when you realize TIME is far to valuable to waste.

For those of you who ARE interested in such things . . . Please. . . . Enjoy!

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twilightvolt · 5 years ago

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And so, another year has come to pass.....almost. ^ ^

Remember when i said i was branching away from Digimon back when i drew up Venom fanart? y’know, “I wanted to be more than what i used to be.” that being “a Digimon artist.”

2019 was basically just that. lots and lots and LOTS of fandom hopping.

If last year was me recovering from the pain and crippling anxiety of 2017, then this year was me finally getting up again, learning to stand up and live for myself rather than in fear of those i shouldn’t care about anymore. life still hasn’t been too kind to me even though, compared to last year, we’re in a better space. but i’ll get into more detail about that while i go through everything month by month on the clock.

Before we begin, if you’d like to see the previous years, here’s the links!

2018:https://twilightvolt.tumblr.com/post/181732950569/i-kinda-was-saving-this-for-when-i-had-the-time-to

2017:https://twilightvolt.tumblr.com/post/171806337539/a-3-month-late-art-summary-featuring-art-that-i

Might wanna grab your popcorn, my dudes. this is a long one.

January: On the Web

Coming out of 2018, things were pretty ok if i remember. i don’t remember much from this month aside from a few doodles i did like this one from when Spiderverse was the hottest thing. this was one of the last things i drew in my old style. before i decided to officially change things up in the next month.

February: Gotta Kick it Up

Pokemon Sword & Shield were announced and things were hype! oh, how things soured as the months went by. lol

But yeah, this was me taking that experimental sketchy pencil style from that Smash Bros. drawing and rolling with it all the way! it’s become my new go-to style and even though it’s still hella sketchy at times, i feel like it looks better in comparison to my old ink outlined drawings.

March: The Overdrive Dweebanoids

Oh right. my old Ben 10 phase that lasted for a millisecond in 2016 returned with a vengeance. and it was glorious. lmao

It spawned an AU that i didn’t delve into much, but if i ever get that spark for my favorite alien watch bearer, i’ll get back to it.

April: True Blue Lizard Bois

My Ben 10 streak continues and i was crankin’ out art left and right for it. i luved all the “doodle dumps” i made, but this drawing was wholesome and i picked it because of that.

To some extent, this could be a comparison between my past and my present. that being Overdrive!Ben being what, at the time, was my current obsession while Digimon!Vivi was a representation of where i used to be, back when i was starting out and entering Digimon OCTs on Deviantart.

May: Return to the Realm of Sleep ~HD ReMIX

Now THIS i feel was one of the grandest drawings i’ve done this year. hell, i even made a wallpaper out of it.

like, it was just a redraw of an old drawing from 2017. but to me, it was a way to tell me just how far i’ve come since then. and i couldn’t be happier.

This was also the month i rebooted my DA after a long time of inactivity!

....Iiiit didn’t really work much, but i’m still working on it. though i highly doubt it’s worth it considering most of the ones i used to hang with there are either people i don’t wanna associate with or people who left while i was gone. seriously, it’s a ghost town there.

June: Art Fight 2019 ~Dreams Vs. Nightmares~

Ahh, my second year of Art Fight. for this year’s event, i wanted to be a tad more grandiose. like drawing up this banner. i like being extra and stuff even if it kills my drawing hand, so yeah. lmao

...

Florida thunderstorms are friggin’ terrifying. idk HOW anyone can get used to that.

July: - BREAK DOWN -

Oookay, it was hard picking my favorite attack this year cuz i pretty much was satisfied with all of them. but i had to go with this attack because the artist i drew it for was someone i really admired for years and i’m just happy i could finally have an opportunity to draw them something. like, i luv how it came out, so yeah.

This was also the month i forced myself to finally do the thing and let go of the constant fear i felt towards certain people i used to hang with. while remembering 2017 will never NOT hurt, i can’t let that fear rule over me forever. i have to take control and not let it stop me from doing what i want. and that’s exactly what i did.

August: Ricky ~Sapphire, Emerald and AlphaSapphire

Oh yeah! after Art Fight ended, i returned to Pokemon randomly cuz i wanted to go back to my roots for a moment. revamping Ricky, formerly Ragna, and Yagami was something i’ve been meaning to do for awhile and it reignited a waning love for a series i started growing distant towards since Gen VII.

I used to really like Ricky’s old design even though i barely ever used him. but i guess this just shows how much more original i’ve gotten in terms of character design. ^ ^

September: Heartbeat Inferno

Now, i haven’t really talked much about what’s been going on life wise for most of this post, but trust me when i say irl, things weren’t really.....happening. like, it’s hard when you live (or rather, lived now) in a place with little job opportunity and you have NO experience whatsoever. the lack of progression must’ve hit something in me, so the week i drew this was me just....shifting moods, feeling everything at once. one day i’d be agitated as hell, the next i’d be so depressed i took a some odd hour nap and didn’t wanna get out of bed. like, for most of this year, i haven’t felt this stressed out and frustrated with myself. so this sudden crash was kind of....unwelcome.

But this drawing was a fresh change though, if i’m being honest. i’m not usually this uncaring about how clean the coloring job is, but i like it! i’d choose that other drawing i did for my friends’ birthdays, Skirmish at the Cable Club, but this one had a more personal drive behind it.

October: - PAPERMOON -

beastarsbeastarsbeASTARSBEASTARS--*COUGH COUGH AHEM* I MEAN....hai. :D

Continuing with my Pokemon shenanigans, i drew this big piece which was something i had in my head for years now, but never actually acted upon it cuz i always felt it was too big of an idea to work on. i’m happy i’ve managed to capture what i envisioned originally.

As for interests, i’m sure most of my current followers can deduce that i quickly shifted gears to Beastars as soon as the anime was released and so far, i regret nothing. it’s spawned a metric butt ton of new art from me and the way i see it, this phase ain’t stopping as long as this series continues. brace yourselves fam, i believe i’ve finally found the successor to my Digimon phase. lmao

Like, damn, i had a tough time choosing art for this month. i was stuck between this, - SMILE/WILD SIDE - and Slip Into Madness. so many good drawings i was satisfied with, y’know?

November: The Future is Now

I was SO planning on putting something else here, but then suddenly i just kinda had this urge to redraw that uggo gouache painting of Miyagi from highschool. and it turned out so good that i had to. like, really. lmao

As with the redraw of Dream Drop Digital’s key art, it was a reminder of how far i’ve come since then art wise. and i feel like i’ve accomplished so much this year because of it. ;w;

December: Winter Lights

And now we’re back to the present time. after over a year or so of living in Florida, we’ve moved once again back up north a bit. yet another clean slate, but things seem to be looking up despite the rather large bumps in the road the past week or so. lately i’ve been feeling that seasonal depression starting to set in, but i think i’ll be fine as long as i stay positive. cuz y’know, it’s not being happy all the time. it’s just knowing that things will get better someday.

One of the other reasons i drew this drawing was cuz i REALLY wanted to have something Beastars related on this clock. this series (and Legoshi in particular) really inspired me, so i had to leave a wedge open for my boi.

Looking back at the beginning of this decade (as 2020 would mark the next one), i realized that the 2010′s were basically me becoming more artsy. finding enjoyment for a new hobby that quickly became something i’m now more passionate about than video games which i didn’t think would EVER be the case.

Funny enough, it all started in the RP section of a little forum for an MMO called Wizard101. i was only in middle school at the time and, to tell you the truth, i had no idea i’d be going at it for this long. thought i’d just do it on the side but not really delve into the art world more.

But despite all the trips and falls, fandom drama or otherwise, i wouldn’t change anything if it meant i wouldn’t have the friends who’ve stuck by me in the aftermath of those times.

I may not be really succeeding in much, but it’s the small steps in life that matter most in the end. these past few months in particular was me getting fed up with feeling sorry for myself for not doing the things i was interested in in the past, getting over my regret and making plans for starting something new even though i know i’ll suck at first and not worrying so much about how others might perceive me.

And just like how life was changing for our resident grey wolf this first season, mine seems to be doing the same. and i believe this decade ended on a better note than i thought it would during the past couple years leading up to this.

Here’s to a new decade! ^ ^

~ For a future I want to believe in. ~

#art meme #summary of art #2019 summary of art #year end reflections #2010's reflections #rambles

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bhaalble · 5 years ago

Note

Could you tell us a bit more about your Tabris?

Me, vibrating at the speed of sound: I MEAN IF YOU WANT I GUESS ITS WHATEVER

To keep this somewhat on topic I'm just gonna cover the major points in her life and her basic temperament.

Alright. So my girl, Sythia, right?

This girl

So, to cover the origin: Sythia is the middle Tabris kid, six months younger than Soris and 4 years older than Shianni.

These three were thick as thieves, growing up, and were also the biggest troublemakers in the Alienage. Adaia passed down her combat training to Sythia, and bits and pieces of it to the other two. That arrow in their quiver made the three of them feel almost invincible. Obviously they couldn't do too much: humans had the law on their side. But they werent as helpless as so many around them were forced to be by the ban against weapons in the Alienage, and that granted a certain kind of freedom.

They would scrap with human brats that came into the Alienage to start trouble, hijack wheels from noblemen's carriages, mess with guards. Red Jenny would have been proud. Shianni usually instigated, Sythia would provide the muscle to back her up, and Soris would talk them out of trouble at the end. They managed to keep their noses juuuust clean enough most of the time but it seemed like nearly every week one of the Tabris kids was being dragged into Valendrians home for a long talk. They didn't mind. They were strong, clever, and fearless, and it felt good to take something back from the humans.

All that changed when Adaia disappeared. Sythia was 16 when her mother was taken by humans, never to be seen again. It changed everything for all three of them. They weren't idiots, they had always known there could be consequences. But suddenly it all felt so viscerally real. That they could disappear someday, and no one outside the Alienage would give a damn. And with Cyrion spiralling around his own grief, Sythia was forced to grow up very quickly. While her father eventually managed to recover, she had to step in to fill Adaia's shoes, make sure Shianni was taken care of, make sure everyone was safe and fed. It took a lot of the fight out of her: she learned to not look a human guard in the eye unless necessary. To take whatever was thrown at her and not answer back. To bite down at all costs. Her combat skills lay dormant and useless for a good 6 years

At least until her wedding day reminded her why she carried it in the first place.

Basic outline of her temperament:

-extremely loyal person. She doesn't connect easily with others, but when she doesn't you couldnt get her off with a crowbar. She would do anything for her family, and nearly anything for her friends.

-Strong sense of responsibility, usually to the point of neglecting her own needs. Sythia is constitutionally incapable of not throwing herself on every sword that presents itself to her. When she feels that something needs to be done, she can't feel really at ease until she does it herself. It's a valuable trait, but often it can make her wary of other people. She knows that once she bonds with someone, she won't be able to draw strong boundaries: their needs will become a part of her world, and she will need to meet them.

-Freedom oriented. She doesn't enjoy being told what to do or telling others what to do. Sythia doesn't really believe that "order" is in itself a good. If liberty has to come at the expense of chaos then she'll happily take the chaos. And there is nothing on this Earth that justifies violating someone's autonomy unless they are actively posing a risk to others. Tends towards open-minded.

-Indecisive. Hates being forced to choose, especially between two people

-Forgives, but rarely (if ever) forgets

-Actually pretty funny, but doesn't think that she is

And finally, Romances

Morrigan: So Sythia had a crush on Morrigan pretty much the second they met, but they danced around those feelings forever. Like I said, Sythia places a high value on autonomy. She eventually came to understand that Morrigan enjoyed her company more than she let on, but trying to get past the sixteen locked doors between what Morrigan says and what she feels felt....violating, somehow. She flirted with her a bit, yes, showed genuine concern for her well being, but Sythia held back the actual depth of her affections for most of their journey because she wasn't really sure they'd be wanted. Ultimately it took them till the panic that was the night before Landsmeet for them to confess to each other. It's a relationship with a lot of back and forth: Morrigan is often frustrated by Sythia's reluctance to look at the bigger picture and not get lost in the concerns of individuals. But it's a relationship founded on strong mutual affection, respect, and trust. Both of them would do anything for each other.

Zevran: On face value the elf assassin's easy breezy covergirl approach would seem like the last thing Sythia would want. But after a few months of it seeming like everyone in the world needed her to be in charge, in control, something with no strings attached seemed like an appealing idea. Just her luck she ended up developing feelings for the guy.

She liked Zevran pretty much immediately when they met: it was rare for her to see another elf seem so unbothered by the world. He was fun, and more than that didn't particularly need her to be the savior against the Blight. They hooked up early in the journey, with the relationship steadily maturing and evolving in the intervening months. Zevran finds her to be anchoring without binding. She is able to let him be vulnerable while still accepting there are parts of him he may never be up to sharing. Sythia, meanwhile, finds him to be exactly what she needs to lighten the load. He doesn't try to pep talk her into greatness. He simply stays by her side, and, when the wreckage is all around them, still finds energy to quote bawdy poetry.

Doesn't hurt that he's got the best ass in Thedas.

If you have anymore specific questions lmk ajsjdhd I love talking about my girl

#sythia tabris #oc: sythia tabris #dragon age #dragon age: origins #da: o #zevran arainai #morrigan #grey warden #warden oc #warden tabris

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revolution-john · 5 years ago

Text

How to Get to Destin

Downtown Hillsong crawled with potential felons on Fridays. The Hillsong County courthouse was a four-story beige brick building where motion hour for criminal cases was held every Friday. That’s where Maddie planned to meet Bone Sommers. Bone practiced law, but everyone knew he didn’t try at it much. He made a run for commonwealth’s attorney about five years ago and lost. After dropping that race to a known liar and embezzler, he went back to his dad’s old scrap yard and had been living there in a trailer ever since. He was smart and under the radar enough that Maddie wanted him for their lawyer if anything started flying from Dollar Bill’s trial and landing on her.

In the past year she had made a dozen or more runs along what the local cops called the The Flamingo Pipeline. A straight shot into Florida and back, two-day turnaround. There were a scary number of doctors in Florida prescribing without care oxycodone, hydrocodone, and Oxycontin. Prescribing any and all kinds of painkillers. Then, like all the rest, Maddie didn’t take long to get greedy. After her Pipeline runs she made regular monthly rounds at four local doctors and two pain clinics in nearby Inez. A side investment. There were a lot of loose ends, loose lips. Any of this could come out during Dollar Bill’s trial and Bone was at least some hope, if he would show up.

It was early afternoon before Maddie saw Bone’s truck pull into the courthouse parking lot. It looked put together with random pieces from his scrapyard, a gray fender wall, a tomato-red tailgate, and Bone looked as poorly thrown together when he popped out from the driver’s side. A short man, his jeans were too long and the heels of his boots had ridden the cuffs frayed against the ground. He was forty-seven and looked sixty, except in the eyes. His eyes were sharp blue under mostly oil-black hair. Wrinkling his face against a shaft of sunlight, he walked slowly, and Maddie seemed to remember he usually moved faster.

“Bone,” she said and nodded. “I’ve seen you move faster. What you been up to, besides making me wait outside a courthouse for two hours?”

“Maddie. Well, honey, I’ve been having a heart attack and not giving two shits, lately. I guess I won’t ask how you been. Not so good, considering you need a lawyer.”

“A heart attack?” Maddie asked. She was looking in particular at the cigarette pinched in the fingers of his free hand. In the other was a cup of coffee. “When was that?”

“Been just about two weeks now. On my birthday, if you can believe that.”

Maddie pointed to the cigarette.

“Yeah,” Bone said in a way of acknowledgment. “You think it counts as suicide?” He pulled a four long, hard draws and flicked the stub against the side of the courthouse.

“Not really sure, but late happy birthday.”

“Ah, to hell with happy birthday,” he said, but was surprised she remembered. That was something.

He lit another cigarette.

“Okay then,” Maddie said. They had moved to the side of the entrance and Bone sat with his legs swinging off the side of the brick wall that lined the sidewalk.

“I hope it counts as suicide, cause that’s my intention.” He might have been talking to himself, eyes fixed across the street to a man selling green and red crosses made from beads. “You see that guy? His name’s Simon and he’s deaf and dumb. He hocks them bead crosses for seven bucks. I went by the Dollar General store and bought the same stuff and turns out it only costs about fifty cents to make one, when you figure it all up.”

The man, Simon, always smiled. She had seen him out here a few times. He smiled more in a day than Maddie had smiled in the last ten years. She looked again at Bone’s cigarette. “How many of them you going to smoke before we go in and get this started?”

Bone nodded, took a last drag from his cigarette, and caught up with Maggie. He hadn’t been in a courtroom in twelve years.

Maddie married badly. Her husband, Shane Younce, was a no count, quick-tempered, spoiled mama’s boy who convinced himself he was a real man by beating Maddie into the hospital about three or four times a year.. Less than three months into the marriage, It was a hard thing to handle sober and so Maddie started buying weed from the car garage just below Hillsong’s public swimming pool. And for a time the weed and the liquor and beer kept her mind just numb enough to deal with Shane and all the hell he brought. But the Younce’s were connected in the little town, and for the very same reason she couldn’t even consider a divorce, she also found it wasn’t difficult to get stronger drugs riding on their good name.

In the first week at the garage, dropping Shane’s name, she connected with Dollar Bill, a mid-level drug dealer who sold in bulk from the back of the garage. He fixed her up with whatever she needed, and for the right price, too. From there it happened fast. One buy led to others and within two months Maddie was driving the Pipeline.

The set up was a good one until an undercover fed got Dollar Bill on audio and hidden camera selling him a Ziplock bag stuffed with pills. First thing Maddie thought to do was call Bone, who was okay with getting some work. She had a few thousand saved back from buy money for her last run that never happened. It really wasn’t her money. Fact of business, she didn’t really know whose money it was, but that wasn’t going to matter if she got sent to prison when Dollar Bill started singing.

The catastrophic possibility of Dollar Bill singing to the feds was what Maddie outlined for Bone outside courtroom B on the second floor, the circuit court level. She waited for what he would say while he shuffled around the water fountain.

“Can’t for the life of me see why they never put chairs or benches or something in the hallways,” he said, squatting beside the fountain.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“What about all of this, Bone? I’ve done handed you a wad of money. What are we going to do?”

“Not much to do while the judge still has court going on.”

She cracked the double doors to the courtroom and saw Judge John Carter Henley up in his high seat. He moved papers back and forth in front of him. Some blonde woman in a power suit was leaning up to talk to him so her calf muscles were nice and round and smooth. It made Maddie sad all over again thinking about her own stick legs and her belly pooch from drinking too much beer. Made her want something to drink right that second.

“I’ll have to sit down with him in chambers,” Bone said. He said his last word as if he were spitting something foul from his mouth.

“I need a drink or something,” Maddie said.

“You and me both.”

Maddie thought back to Bone talking about suicide when he first got there. “And what’s all this stuff about suicide?” she asked. “What the hell, Bone.”

He straightened up against the wall and slid to his feet. The wind escaped his lungs in a gush of air like it had been held captive, a secret from the rest of his body.

“I don’t know, Maddie, honey. I’m just tired is all. It drives me crazy that you probably wouldn’t be dealing with any of this if it wasn’t for that husband you got.”

“You might be right,” Maddie said. “But nobody twisted my arm, either.”

“Well, least you got something to get your blood going, even if it is worrying Dollar Bill Damron’s going to point his finger at you.” Bone’s face went still and serious. “The worse kind of life is one where they just ain’t nothing happening. It’d be nice to just strike out and head to the beach somewhere. Not Myrtle Beach. I mean a real beach. Some place like Destin, that town in Florida. You may even went past it or something on your trips down there.”

“Sonofabitch, I’m dead in the water,” Maddie hissed, more at the wall than to Bone.

The courtroom doors came open and three men tucked sideways past them. Maddie peeked in and saw a lot of movement near the bench. Bone asked the men before they rounded the corner if court was breaking and they told him the judge ordered a fifteen minute recess. He took Maddie’s elbow and leaned into her. When they were clear of the doors into the courtroom, Bone gave out a loud grunt.

“Maddie, honey, I just can’t do this for you. You already paid me, but I have to tell you that going up to the judge before Dollar Bill or whoever even mentions you is pretty much insane, no offense. You’re implicating yourself, understand?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I should’ve told you before now, but I’m in a rough place,” he said.

“You think?” She ran her fingers through her hair. “Jesus, Bone. So what am I supposed to do?”

“Go home,” he said. “I’ll keep my ear to the ground and give you a call tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to go home,” she admitted. “Let’s get something to eat or whatever.”

“Shane makes home not such a great place to be, I guess,” Bone said. “We’ll figure something out. We will.”

He turned the corner and left. The bailiff for courtroom B closed the suite doors and a quiet dropped all around Maddie.

“I don’t want to go home,” she said again in the empty hallway.

The diagnosis was exactly the same as a month ago. The heart meds weren’t doing what they were supposed to be doing and the right coronary artery had experienced too much trauma from the heart attack. It didn’t help, the doc said, that Bone hadn’t stopped eating red meat, had continued smoking, and drank more now than he had before.

“There’s something else,” Doc Bradley said just before the appointment was over. “Your blood results showed cocaine in your system, Bone. Cocaine. Are you seriously telling me you’re using cocaine?”

“Um, yeah. I snorted a little to see what it was like. Trust me Doc, you don’t really want anything to do with coke. The results are undesirable.” Bone stopped. The look on Doc Bradley’s face was too much. He had forgotten that they blood tested him every appointment. Now the whole visit was going to be about cocaine. “Let’s chalk that one up as post-traumatic stress, what’s say, Doc? I’m just trying to get my head around this thing.”

“You are not terminal, you jack ass,” Doc said. “You’re not the walking dead. It ain’t good, I’ll say that. I won’t bullshit you. But you’re not dead.”

Bone nodded his way out of the appointment, took some ass-chewing, and left the office without having changed his views on anything. He lit a cigarette and reached under the seat and found the pint of vodka. He chased three drinks with some flat Pepsi and left the parking lot driving slow and careful.

The pay lake sat like a shined plate fifty yards or so from Route 670. Bone knew Shane would be there only a short time, fishing for bluegill to rig for bait if his net gave out fishing for cat down at the spillway. There was a window of opportunity, though, and Bone knew how to make the most of a window.

He had borrowed Casey Osborne’s truck, because Casey Osborne didn’t really give two shits if he got deep into anything. He was too far gone on meth and knew eventually he would end up in prison sooner or later. Deep tint, green-maybe-blue-maybe-black paint job, easy to forget with all the other trucks at the lake. Bone parked at the edge of the dirt parking lot and took a quick inventory of who was there. Other than Shane, only three other guys were fishing the lake. He could make that work. Tucking a row of quarters into his palm, Bone made a fist, pulled the ski mask down to his chin, and got out of the truck. Soon as his feet hit dirt, he took a dead run toward Shane. His figured if the three guys noticed who he was, it really didn’t matter. Two reasons: one, he was dying and, two, about everybody sort of wanted to see somebody beat the lights out of Shane Younce’s eyes for how he always treated Maddie.

Shane hardly had time to realize he was in something deep before Bone started popping him in the chest and shoulders and then the thighs. Hooks, jabs, a lot of punches landing everywhere except his head and face. Shane wasn’t a small guy, so he fought back some, but after about five hits to the torso he mostly lay on the ground and took the beating. Bone didn’t stop until Shane threw up, a bright yellow puddle that covered his tackle box. Once that happened, Bone took off in a sprint back to the truck. In the rearview he could see the other guys making their way over to Shane. They were smiling.

Bone got a phone call from Maddie two days after tracking Shane down at the pay lake. She wanted to talk to him and asked that he come to her mom’s house on Rolling Branch. He saw Maddie first thing when he made it to the end of the long dirt driveway leading to the house. She waved from the porch steps and didn’t move when Bone got out of the car.

“You look more ragged than the last time I saw you,” Maggie said.

Bone sat down beside her. “Well, everything’s still making sense then.”

Maggie laughed, but it was weak and forced. She picked up his right hand and turned it over. His knuckles were skinned and raw.

“Destin,” she said.

“What?”

“Destin. Remember you were talking about heading out for a beach somewhere? Somewhere like Destin. Not Myrtle Beach.”

Bone took a pint bottle of vodka from his jacket pocket and took a long pull. “Absolutely I remember.”

“Be nice wouldn’t it?” Maggie said.

“That’s a fact.” He offered her the bottle. “So Destin. That’s what you called me about?

Maggie took his hand again and pulled him to his feet. “Come on, let me show you something before you finally finish the world’s longest ever suicide.”

Behind the house, the yard fell off in a long grassy slope. When they made it to the edge of that slope, there was another smaller one, soft and sandy, that ran straight to the river. Maggie took small steps down the sand bank and helped Bone until they both stood on flat land at the river’s edge.

The water was usually a muddy brown, but the full afternoon sun sent flashes of white light across the surface. Maggie sat down, pulled her shoes off, and put her bare feet in the water. Bone watched the dancing light for a few more seconds and then did the same, closing his eyes so the only thing he could hear was a strong, steady current moving farther and farther and farther away.

#short story

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