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kaibutsushidousha · 7 months ago

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A Day in Haruki’s Life - Sick Visit (Sagrada Reset 4)

[INDEX]

In class, she was always looking front and right, resting her cheek on her left hand. Although this "always" was very recent. She was assigned to her new seat only last month. But after a month, she couldn't possibly remember what she did in her previous classroom.

This was the last class on July 4th, Tuesday. Haruki Misora was looking front and right with her cheek on her left hand, paying no attention to the world history lessons she heard. As usual.

Her eyes pointed to an empty seat. The boy who usually sat on it wasn't there today. His voice was weird yesterday. She now realized she should have cared more about that. Haruki sighed a sigh too minor for anyone to notice.

The elderly man on the teacher's desk lectured about a revolution that happened in France and Russeau's ideals. That didn't matter. It wasn't the moment to be wasting brain power on the ramifications of a revolution that concluded centuries ago or who gained political supremacy.

Asai Kei caught a cold and missed school. The greatest question in Haruki's mind was how to cope with that.

Kei getting sick was not exactly a rare occurrence. It happened multiple times every year. He was not the kind to worry about his health every day and didn't treat being a bit under the weather as a big deal. That contrasted weirdly with the way he's plenty careful, sagacious, and knowledgeable about most other subjects. How come he never learned that it's more efficient to treat colds at their earliest stages?

Kei had a strong resistance to pain. She caught on to signs of him having a headache or feeling unwell and doing nothing about it. Besides, he was surprisingly lazy in his habits, sometimes even skipping on brushing his teeth.

(That's fine. It's not my place to complain. Kei's body and health are entirely his own.)

Haruki had three major questions she was concerned about.

Whether or not to visit him.

What to bring him if she chooses to visit.

Whether or not to contribute to the U-Res's assignment.

All difficult questions.

She wanted to visit him.

But going to Kei's apartment and wishing him well would not improve his condition. If anything, it was more likely to strain him. Therefore, visiting him would be entirely counterproductive.

The only plausible reason to go to his apartment is concern for his diet. It's possible that he wouldn't bother with eating properly while sick. But if she visited him bringing food, he would have to try it.

(I could make congee in his apartment.)

She thought she just had a great idea.

It served as a reason to visit and defined what to bring. All she needed was a pot and rice. Also pickled plums and kelp for the stock. She'd rather make something more elaborate, but he'd prefer it simpler.

(I already know how to make congee. It's not any difficult. But I can't afford to fail. I'll look up detailed recipes online later.)

Haruki nodded imperceptibly. She had decided to go to Kei's apartment after class and make congee. A major unplanned event. A plan that deserved a red circle on her calendar but there was no point in doing that when she only had the idea on the day it would happen.

Now the only question left was about the U-Res assignment.

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The U-Res assignment was something her classmate Minami Mirai brought up during their lunch break.

Haruki normally had her lunch with Kei on the landing of a staircase. But he was absent, so instead, she opened her lunchbox alone on her class desk.

She tried to get started but didn't have an appetite.

She put her chopsticks down before touching her food and instead took her phone. She got a feeling that Kei texted her. It was just her imagination but she still opened her messages and reread Kei's previous posts.

Most of it was business messages. The most frequent type of conversation was him assigning a time and place for them to meet and her answering "Understood". He was overall less friendly through text.

(Should I message him? But if he's sleeping now, that'd risk waking him up with the notification noise.)

While she was deep in thought, Minami Mirai approached with her usual radiant smile and spoke.

"Howdy. Can I eat with you?"

There was no reason to refuse. As Haruki nodded, Minami turned the front desk's seat 180 degrees and sat facing Haruki.

"Ennui got you today, Misora?", she said while she opened her small elliptical bento box.

Ennui. A word she heard before but didn't know the meaning. Not an English word, as far as she remembered. The Japanese-English dictionary under her desk wouldn't be of any help.

"What do you mean by that?", Haruki asked despite not being interested. Day-to-day conversation was all about lack of interest not being a reason to cut a subject short. For whatever it was worth, Kei enjoyed pointless chatter.

With her chopsticks in her right hand, Minami scratched her cheek with her left.

"Oh, there's no reason. I expected you to be feeling Asai's absence, so I shot my guess."

Her question was about the definition of ennui, but the answer she got was slightly off the subject. But the topic didn't prove itself worth further pursuit.

"Ok."

After a quick nod, Haruki picked up her chopsticks again. The main dish of her lunch was pepper-filled meat. Haruki was not a picky eater. As per the usual meaning of the expression, this meant she had nothing she refused to eat, but in Haruki's case, it also meant she didn't have any standout preferences. Anything goes.

"You're going to visit him, right?", said Minami, picking up a broccoli with her chopsticks.

"I'm considering my options."

"Why? What is there to consider?"

"Do you think I should?", Haruki asked after some pause.

"Of course. Can't let the romantic moment go by you."

"Colds are not romantic."

"Oh, they are. You gotta shoot for him while he's sick and weakened."

Haruki didn't believe a cold could weaken him. She took a bite at her pepper-filled meat. It tasted like ground meat and bell pepper.

Minami bent herself forward with excitement, wildly moving the broccoli still on her chopsticks up and down.

"By the way, Misora, do you know the easiest way to heal a cold?"

"To take your medications and sleep a lot?"

"Think less realism and more miracle of love."

It was hard to envision a miracle as an easy option but she was invested in any way to cure a cold.

Minami raised her left index finger because she still hadn't put that broccoli in her mouth after all this time. Haruki began to suspect she didn't like broccoli.

"Step 1: kiss him to transfer the cold to you."

(Is this going to work? Many types of virus are indeed transmissible through contact between mucous membranes, so maybe she has a point.)

Next, she raised her middle finger, forming a peace sign.

"Step 2: he's cured because his cold went to someone else."

(This is likely wrong. That's a superstition. Since it's common for colds to be highly infective and short-lived, is structurally natural for people to heal from their colds soon after contaminating others.)

But Minami was assertive.

"In short, kiss him and he'll get better. LOGICAL!"

Her reasoning was sound but based on a false premise.

"That's very improbable.", answered Haruki.

Showing no signs of wanting to hear a counter-argument, Minami finally eats her broccoli.

"I don't believe it either. But that's my U-Res assignment. Do colds really heal when passed to others?"

"What is the U-Res?"

"The club I'm part of."

She gave a seemingly practiced introduction. The U in U-Res stands for "unidentified". Res is short for "research club".

"Summing up, the U-Res is a research society for anything unidentified."

She understood it, but couldn't find their methods of study pertinent.

"Me hypothetically catching Kei's cold and him recovering from it wouldn't qualify as proof that colds can be cured through transfer."

That didn't suffice as evidence correlating the transfer and the healing. He'd simply have recovered after transmitting it.

"That's why we want as much data as possible. The goal is to identify how long it takes for someone to recover from a cold, whether or not they got someone infected, and draw statistics from there."

Their approach was more decent than she expected. But she still had many doubts.

"I believe the moment of contagion goes unnoticed in most cases."

"Yup. I don't think we can get precise statistics for that."

"Then wouldn't it be pointless?"

Minami picked up a cherry tomato and grinned.

"Uhuh. The real goal of the U-Res is to put serious research into pointless stuff and make up whatever conclusion we want. No one cares about the truth."

(Their research is pointless but that's the appeal. I lately began to understand the point of pointlessness. Pointless actions are optimal for turning the process into the real goal.)

"So kiss Asai if you feel like it.", said Minami with a suggestive grin.

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That's the whole story of her U-Res assignment.

Haruki was apathetic to most matters. Participating in them or not made no difference to her. She rarely refused when asked for help.

But this was one of these rare exceptions. For the sole reason that it concerned Asai Kei.

He wouldn't be comfortable with infecting others with his disease.

(I'm pretty sure I can't cooperate with the U-Res.)

With that decided, the chime rang marking the end of the day's last class.

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After class, Haruki went home and borrowed her mother's biggest shoulder bag. Aside from her school bag, the only other bags Haruki had was a tiny purse for small objects and a sports bag that would have been too big. Neither extreme was the appropriate size.

She packed her mother's bag with the smallest earthenware pot and the congee ingredients and immediately left again. She didn't feel any need to change her uniform.

Her walking pace was quick. Without detours, Kei's apartment was a 15-minute walk away from her house, but she decided to pass by the shopping district. Her kitchen had no pickled plums. The probability of Kei having some in his fridge was low.

Without Kei walking by her side, her balance felt unstable. This sensation always assailed her when she walked alone. Perhaps her memory of his pace was the only thing keeping her able to walk straight. She was aware this was a misapprehension but that didn't fix it. The shoulder with the bag felt heavier because of the pot.

Entering the supermarket, she went straight for the groceries area. She found honey-filled plum pickles and nodded with satisfaction.

(Is there anything else I should buy?)

She had all the ingredients she needed for the congee. But she got the feeling she was still missing something. Her instincts told her so. Or perhaps the kind of anxiety that doesn't disappear no matter how perfectly you do things. But she couldn't afford to quit racking her brain. She kept the thoughts running as she headed to the cashier.

It's always full of shoppers before dinner hours. The line to the cashier was considerably lengthy. Getting to the tail end of it put the confectionery corner right in sight.

(Is that what I was missing? Kei loves sweets. Maybe he should have something for dessert.)

But they only had daifuku and dangos lined up. Too bulky options for someone sick.

The line to the cashier moved. Haruki gathered her coins and paid the precise amount.

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Ten minutes after leaving the supermarket, a Western confectionery store caught Haruki's eye. March Hall.

March Hall was a small store with an even smaller eating space, dealing more in takeout sweets. She ate cream puffs here with Kei before.

There was a poster on the entrance. B5-sized, very discreet. None of those baiting words like "best-selling", "new menu", or "limited-time offer". Not even a single exclamation point. Only the words "Peach-in-jelly".

Passing by the sign, Haruki stopped in her tracks.

(That's it. Peach.)

She was missing peaches. When you think seeing someone sick, you think peaches. She couldn't remember who taught her that, but she had it registered as common sense.

Haruki turned back and entered March Hall.

She was the only client there.

The only employee smiled from behind the counter.

"Welcome."

Haruki walked toward her.

"I'd like two peaches-in-jelly."

She would eat jelly with Kei. What a wonderful plan.

But the clerk's expression dimmed.

"I'm sorry. We are out of peaches-in-jelly for today."

Sold out. Unfortunately, she'd have to give up on that. This late on a business day, there were few slices of cake left on the display cases as well.

"Would you like this fruit tart instead? It's made with a lot of peach."

The clerk's hands pointed to a tart. Tough choice. It fits Kei's tastes, but would he feel like eating tart while he has a cold?

Since she was talking to an expert, it didn't hurt to ask.

"Do you have anything someone ill would want?"

The clerk smiled.

"Are you choosing for someone else?"

"Yes."

"Alright. How about ice cream?"

(Good point. Something cold makes sense. But it doesn't have peaches.)

The clerk spoke with conviction. Like she was describing a ceremony with centuries of proven tradition.

"Ice cream is what a sick person needs."

"More so than peaches?"

"Peaches are great, but ice cream is champion."

Haruki wasn't so sure, but it was undeniable that this woman was more knowledgeable about Western desserts than Haruki.

"We don't have the peach flavor, but I recommend this natural apple ice cream."

(Apples. Yes, I might have heard that an apple a day keeps the doctor away.)

Haruki takes a second look at the fruit tarts before making her decision.

"Apple ice cream for two, then."

The clerk had a sweet smile.

"Yes, miss."

She took two cups of ice cream out of the case and packed them with dry ice in a thick paper bag.

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After 10 minutes of walking fast so the ice cream wouldn't melt, Haruki arrived at Kei's building.

Pickled plums on her right hand. Apple-flavored ice cream on her left. And a pot, rice, and kelp in the bag on her shoulder. All perfect.

And yet, Haruki wasn't moving toward the entrance. She still hadn't decided whether or not she should visit him.

Her doubts came late, but they were still pertinent.

She hadn't imagined the situation enough. Visiting Kei's apartment required pressing the buzzer. She would need him to come out and unlock the door.

Were this congee and ice cream worth forcing him out of his bed and making him walk all the way to the door? Tough question. Haruki believed sleep was the most essential factor in recuperation.

Besides, all of her actions were built on the unconfirmed premise that he had not made dinner for himself yet. It was possible that he already had something ready in his kitchen, and even that he already ate. Depending on the situation, Haruki's actions could be putting him through unnecessary work.

(What to do?)

To go or to return. She couldn't decide.

On further thought, she notices something.

She already had her question answered for the longest time. After all, she never visited Kei in the previous instances he was ill.

The reason for that was simple. Asai Kei is outstandingly competent. He gets almost everything done on his own. Being alone doesn't distress him.

There's no reason to worry about Asai Kei. The logical thing to do would be to stay put until he's cured.

She took another look at his apartment. At his window. And then she checked her phone. She was expecting him to call. But she knew he wouldn't.

(Yes, I should leave.)

Believing Kei would be better tomorrow, Haruki decided to leave as if nothing happened.

She wasn't happy about it. But to Haruki, this wasn't the time to care about her emotions. She believed Kei needed the rest.

She turned 180 and began walking slower than her usual pace.

The ice cream was going to melt at this rate. But that didn't matter anymore.

The sun was setting. She walked alone in the dark pre-evening streets. She could hear the sound of her shoes against the asphalt. For every step she heard, she felt Kei's absence. Nothing unusual about that.

At the next crossing, she stopped at a red light.

There she realized Kei's apartment was still visible if she turned back.

Suddenly, her phone beeped. No one was calling. It was the new message sound. She picked up her phone to check the reader's name: Kei.

Haruki hurriedly opened the message. It took oddly long for the screen to load. The signal turned green. That didn't matter now.

The message was finally readable.

[I'm craving some ice cream. Can you buy a tub for me if you have the time?]

She couldn't believe it. Was that a miracle?

(I was right to trust the expert. Ice cream really was better than peaches for someone with a cold.)

Impressed, she turned back. She ran to Kei's apartment. But her rational side kept telling her this didn't make sense.

(Kei doesn't send this kind of message. I can't claim to know everything about him, but I know enough to tell that was not him. There must be a reason. This message has to be...)

There had to be a reason, but did it matter what it was?

(What's important is that Kei wants ice cream and I have some, no? I can ask for his reasons when I'm there.)

Despite the mental hurdles, Haruki was back on her way to Kei's apartment. A lot faster than she was before. Along the way, she stopped, realizing that she should answer the message first.

That was the moment.

She heard running steps behind her until they stopped.

Haruki Misora turned back and understood everything.

She knew someone was hiding behind the street lamp. But its pole was too thin, leaving her completely visible. Covering part of her face at best.

"Minami?", Haruki asked, internally reviewing the earlier events of the day.

Minami Mirai. A classmate. The U-Res girl who insisted Haruki should visit Kei during their lunch break.

She came out from behind the lamp, laughing nervously.

"Hi."

"Have you been following me the entire time?", Haruki asked after some thinking.

"Kinda. Sorry..."

(I don't see why she had to apologize. Wait, wasn't stalking illegal? No, I must be mistaken.)

"Why were you doing it?"

"I, uh... just thought I'd be fun..."

"Was it?"

"Honestly, yeah. My favorite scene was when you passed by the confectionary shop, changed your mind, and came back for it."

She couldn't grasp what was so amusing about it. But she wasn't going to complain about having successfully entertained someone.

Minami Mirai suddenly adopted an angry posture, putting her left hand on her hip and raising her right index finger.

"But you ruined the moment, Misora. Why'd you quit your visit?"

"Because I realized it was unnecessary."

"It's not about being necessary."

"It came to me that it has a chance of inconveniencing him. Which means I must turn back."

"You're not a nuisance. He'll be happy to have you."

(That's for Kei to decide, not you.)

She couldn't imagine Kei being displeased about it, but she could never tell what he was thinking and she could easily predict that he'd push himself when he shouldn't. No matter how bad he was feeling, he'd pretend to be fine.

"I won't discuss that. Just confirm to me that you messaged him about it."

"I sure did. No way I could let this go by."

Haruki didn't understand her motive.

But it was thanks to her that Kei texted Haruki. She had nothing to complain about.

Haruki smiled. Her smile was so tiny that it could go unnoticed by someone using a magnifying glass.

"Thank you very much.", said Haruki.

Minami blinked in surprise.

Then she nodded with her sweetest smile.

"You're very welcome."

"I'll be back after having ice cream with Kei."

She had to hurry or else it'd melt.

"Go ahead. Take your chance to spoonfeed him."

She gestured with her right hand as she spoke. Not really decipherable but Haruki could tell from context that she was pretending to feed someone with a spoon.

Haruki nodded.

"Understood."

"Wait, are you really going to?"

"Isn't that how you take care of a sick person?"

Haruki remembered her mother doing that for her when she was little.

Minami giggled. Her laughter was not her usual kind. It was more refined and guilty.

"Yeah. That's exactly how you take care of a sick person. Have fun. Bye."

Haruki nodded and turned her back to the waving Minami.

She walked fast. Heading to Kei's apartment with a smile.

Along the way, a thought crossed her mind for reasons she couldn't understand: Maybe she should reconsider her decision not to contribute to U-Res's assignment.

That was a thought to mull over for a while before she arrived at Kei's apartment.

#sagrada reset #a day in haruki's life #haruki misora #minami mirai

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hismercytomyjustice · 5 months ago

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So I started writing this yesterday and then I got SO MANY FEELS and it was SO LATE but…

Def got a little too into my own head earlier with the finale approaching for my BG3 fic. So I reread the draft I have of the final three chapters. And I just…I’m so happy with them??? (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ) I don’t even feel like they need any major overhaul editing or anything either.

I have NEVER felt confident about writing endings, but I’m feeling alarmingly confident about this one??? Like, even my OCD doesn’t seem to have anything disparaging to say??? ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!??

I mean, I truly hope other folks feel the same way when they get to the end. But right now I’m just so fucking happy that I do?

Wildly long self-indulgent post about my BG3 fic and the writing process for it below, if that’s something you’re into.

Writing this fic has been such an unexpected rollercoaster of emotions for me. It’s taught me so much about how my OCD manifests and impacts my writing, in addition to building my writing confidence back up in general.

It’s the longest thing I’ve ever written (just about twice as long as the longest before that?!) and I feel like I’ve grown SO MUCH as a writer while working on it for the past six months. I went from thinking I would never write description well to finally feeling like I get it??? I mean I’m sure I still have loads more room for improvement, but I’ve always felt like description has been my biggest weakness as a writer and I finally don’t feel that way anymore??!!

Same with writing endings too!!! I def feel like I have a lot more progress to make on that front, but like…oh my god I actually wrote one I’m super proud of??!!

Not only that, but this fic taught me I actually can jump around while writing??? I’ve always written super linearly before and tbh I still do, but when I got stuck on chapter 12/13 for almost two months, I skipped to the very end because I had an idea spark for that part and because of that I’ve been able to lay more of the groundwork for what I hope is a satisfying wrap up.

God, I was so fucking mortified to bring up my struggles with fanfic writing to my therapist. In retrospect I realize that’s because my OCD spirals around it were getting out of fucking control…

Just a super fun refrain of:

“This isn’t a big deal, you’re doing it for fun. It’s ridiculous how upset you are over a literal hobby no one is forcing you to do. It’s just a fanfic. No one cares about it. It’s not even real writing. No one will even read it or like it anyway. You’re wasting your time. See? You can’t finish anything. You’re stuck at the 60k mark because you lack discipline and commitment. You can’t do this, so you’ll never get anything original published. How many things have you started now that you’ve never finished? You haven’t finished writing anything in almost a decade. You’re wasting your therapist’s time talking about something so absurd. She’s going to laugh in your face.”

And fucking on and on and on.

But like…none of that was true??? FUCKING SHOCKING THAT MY OCD WOULD LIE TO ME, AMIRITE?! When has it EVER done that?!

I just wound up sitting there telling my therapist I was stuck and I had lost the passion for the fic like I always did and I’d wasted three months and 60k words on a story that was never going anywhere because I wasn’t good enough to write it.

And she asked me “What would help you get unstuck?”

And I thought about it and was like: “Maybe if I start posting it, folks will read it or bare minimum I’ll get enough kudos and hits to make my brain go brr enough to finish it?” All I wanted at that point was to regain the drive to finish writing the story I’d put so much heart and time and effort into already.

I mean OF COURSE I hoped folks would read it and like it and leave kudos and omg maybe even leave a comment??!! And since BG3 was and is such a big/popular fandom I was also hoping maybe I could surpass the level of achievement I hit with my multichapter Cardcaptors fic a few years back, if nothing else.

And like, as of last night, this is where I was sitting with both:

And YES. I know that stats are NOT what I should focus on at the end of the day. But GOD IF I DON’T CRAVE THE EXTERNAL VALIDATION!!! Don’t we all…

And like, honest to god, this fic doesn’t have to surpass my CCS fic! One of the absolute (hehe) best things to come from this whole experience has been getting to interact with other cultured Bloodweave sommeliers (haha). I seriously cannot get over just how nice and encouraging and fucking amazing everyone has been with their comments!!! And that multiple people have taken the time to comment on each chapter as they come out??!! Like, I am living the fucking dream!!! (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

I get so fucking excited every week to share my newest chapter because I desperately want to know how my pressganged Bloodweave book club will react. Like, my HEART IS SO FULL OMG!!!! They are gonna make me cry frfr!!!

I have personally been such a terrible commenter in the past on fics I’ve enjoyed (i.e. I didn’t fucking comment), but I am trying to become a reformed member of AO3 society because the support I’ve gotten (especially when the doubts start to creep in) has been incredible!!! 100/10, would definitely recommend!!!

And like, some other great stuff has happened that helped me so much along the way too! I read The Accountant’s Guide to Taking Down an Evil Vampire Lord (and maybe bagging Astarion while you are at it) by Cinnamontails. While I was reading it, writing description FINALLY FUCKING CLICKED for me! I was just like “Omfggg?! This is what people are talking about when they say description should do more than one thing!!!” Up to that point I pretty much believed that was like a sort of writing koan or something. Something everyone says, but that isn’t actually meant to be understood because it’s unknowable? Or something like that.

Lemme tell ya, I fucking love learning about writing. I’ve gone to countless writing panels at cons. I listened to podcasts on writing for YEARS (Writing Excuses, I Should be Writing, Ditch Diggers, etc). I’ve read so many books on writing. Watched YouTube videos, took a class, etc, etc! But for some reason the “description should do more than one thing” adage just did not compute. Until I read that fic!

Up to that point, description had always felt like something I threw in as padding around all of my dialogue and character navel gazing. And I fucking STRUGGLED with it as a result. It always felt SO FUCKING BORING to me. I hated it, especially because it never came easily. But now I FINALLY understand and I LOVE writing it!!!!

I went looking for some more tips on writing description and picked up Description: A Busy Writer’s Guide by Marcy Kennedy, which broke things down even further for me!

I felt personally attacked by this part in particular:

“Irrelevant description is what gives description a bad name.

You might think that’s obvious, but so often in my editing work, I’ve seen authors describe things in detail that have no bearing on the story at all. Usually they do it because they’ve been told at one time that they weren’t including enough description and no one told them what kind of description they needed to start including or how to properly include it.”

I am not exaggerating when I say, until very recently, to write description I would find photos of locations, buildings, character inspo, etc and try to focus on what someone more visually inclined would want described because I don’t have a super robust mental image generator. I’ve never had the “I see a movie in my head” while reading gift. Super jelly of folks who do tho! I get more like…flashes maybe? And I didn’t even realize that until I actually made myself pay attention to what was going on in my head while reading fairly recently. I sincerely thought I had aphantasia and people were exaggerating when they said they could picture things in their heads.

Like, when they’d tell you to look at something then close your eyes and envision what you remembered in school (was that just me?). And I’d be like “Okay so we’re just closing our eyes and trying to remember the individual things right? No one actually sees anything.” COLOR ME SURPRISED to find out that WAS NOT the case!

I don’t think I have aphantasia anymore, but like, on the scale from 0 (aphantasia) to 10 (see a movie in my head), I’d say I’m maybe a 3? I can’t envision a whole room or even like…a moving image? Moving images in my head are almost more like extremely short flip books. And the more I try to focus on them, the more out of focus they become. I also really struggle to envision things I’ve never seen before. Like, as a literal picture in my head I mean. It’s easier for me to imagine like…a picture I took of my dog than my actual dog? And like, if I try to do something like envision my bedroom or something, I just kind of pick a point and go from there like “Okay this is what my bed looks like, now it’s gone. This is what my dresser looks like, now it’s gone. This is what my end table looks like, now it’s gone.” It doesn’t form a bigger picture in my head. It’s more like a mental checklist where I think about the different attributes of something (like the color of my sheets, or how many pillows I have) rather than actually see something like the whole bed? Idk. That’s the best way I can think of to explain it.

Ngl, that might very well be part of why writing description like was so difficult and SO FUCKING BORING to me. I didn’t really see things in my head and I’m not a very visual person in general, so I don’t focus a ton on those details anyway as a reader or when I’m physically somewhere. So l felt like all my description was so hamfisted and awkward as a result, and I had absolutely no concept of how much was enough or too much.

But then she goes on in the book to say:

“All description filters through the viewpoint character and is colored by who they are as a person.” And I was just like…ohhhhhhh!!!! That’s exactly what that fanfic did!!!

And then:

“What they notice will also be largely influenced by their circumstances. A character heading into a job interview will be hyper aware of their own appearance, whereas a character who’s crawling around in a cave looking for hidden treasure won’t. A character who is running for their life will notice different things about their surroundings than will a character who isn’t in immediate danger.

If it’s not something they would notice, then we either have to leave it out or come up with a believable, realistic reason for them to notice it.”

Like. OF FUCKING COURSE?! THIS MAKES SO MUCH SENSE?! HOW DID I NEVER GRASP THIS BEFORE?!

Marcy Kennedy goes on to give other tips like “a good description is specific” and “a good description allows less to be more.” And about how it’s more important to focus on specific, unique details than to try and describe everything about the scene/character (like I would do before). Like, focusing on stuff readers will actually remember and that paints a clearer picture.

She also delves into the specifics of writing for the five senses (another thing I always heard suggested, but never felt I executed well). And on how people naturally notice things from bigger/more obvious to smaller/more specific. She also talks about the psychology behind the things people naturally notice and why and how it’s impacted by who they are as a person (ex. the career they have, their gender, etc).

She gets even more specific with stuff like:

“Description for the purpose of grounding should be quick and needs to happen within the first few paragraphs of a new scene.

If time is the only thing that’s changed, we’ll need to use even less description than if our characters also changed location.

As a general guideline, describe a place in the most depth the first time that setting shows up on the page. Later on, unless something important has changed, a brief re-orienting passage is enough.”

I have DESPERATELY been searching for something this specific. Like just PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD TELL ME HOW MANY SENTENCES/PARAGRAPHS TO USE AND HOW FREQUENTLY TO USE DESCRIPTION. And ON GOD that’s exactly what this book does! ദ്ദി ꒦ິ꒳꒦ິ )✧

I still need to finish reading it but omfg I about lost my mind when I found the holy grail I’d been searching for.

And like, I’m sure my description still needs work and I’m using a sledgehammer instead of a regular hammer sometimes. But I’m learning and growing! And I’m sure it’ll become easier with practice! Hell, half the time I’ll write something and not realize until, oh I don’t know I’ve pretty much finished my fucking 100k word fanfic, that I fucking never really physically described my Tav?! I shouldn’t have said that… Now everyone will notice if they hadn’t already.. FUCK.

BUT! My absolute FAVORITE thing to write is character and being told “write description through the lens of your character” got me so fucking hype. I’m not sitting there anymore like “What’s in this room, what would a reader who sees what they read in their head (definitely not me) find most interesting?” and am instead like “What would Character A notice in this room? How are they feeling right now? What does X remind them of? What are they thinking about? What do they like and dislike, how does that impact what they pay attention to?” And I FUCKING LOVE IT!!!!

And I AM SURE this is not groundbreaking information for 99.9% of folks but IT WAS FOR ME!!!!! It has easily doubled my word count for everything I’ve written since then and I’m not stuck massively overthinking it all now! And I actually enjoy it! It doesn’t feel like a miserable slog anymore!

And this is THE MOST OBVIOUS in how my BG3 fic chapters literally DOUBLED OR TRIPLED in length after I got my hands on this book in the middle of writing the fic lol. Almost every shorter chapter in the first 75% of the fic was written prior to me reading this book. And the longer ones? Those were added after!

Like, chapter two originally didn’t include the Owlbear scene. It just ended after Astarion walked out of the fortress. Meanwhile, chapter five and six DID NOT EXIST. I kinda panicked when I realized the story felt too Astarion heavy when it was supposed to be about both of them. I also felt like the pacing for the story in general was off (too fast). So I went back and added those. Leon and Victoria WERE NOT IN THE STORY until I went back to add chapter five.

Since I was doing alternating POV, if I added another chapter for Gale I needed to add another for Astarion. So I decided to make Astarion’s about them needing to find Gale an artefact in the Underdark. I started researching artefacts there that would satisfy the orb, but wanted to dig deeper and lay a little more groundwork for Astarion starting to care more about Gale and learning to be more kind/compassionate overall.

My headcanon for Astarion is that he’s always been a little selfish, or at least he thinks he is. I expanded on that later on in the fic by implying his parents weren’t the best of people. I felt like Cazador would smell blood in the water as far as folks with prior abuse of some kind were concerned, like a lot of abusers do. So Astarion spent his life up until he moved to Baldur’s Gate trying to be his own person despite the box his parents wanted to fit him in. That was my reason for why he left the Dalelands so young (by elf standards). He was still a grown ass man, but hadn’t reached maturity as far as his parents were concerned.

And like, why did he go as far away as Baldur’s Gate? Because it is like THE OPPOSITE SIDE of Faerun. And there’s no real info on his family anywhere, so I felt like maybe he wasn’t super close with them if he moved so far away. My idea was he felt he couldn’t escape their expectations without putting some real distance between them. And then, in the process, he winds up with Cazador, someone even more determined to mold him into what they want him to be rather than what he wants to be.

I feel like so much of Astarion’s arc in game is about finally being able to become his own person. And I thought it would pair really well with the tragedy of him being turned by Cazador if that happened just when he started take back control of his own life.

My headcanon is a lot of Astarion’s selfishness stems from no one ever being there for him or looking out for him, so he can only rely on himself and fuck everyone else as a result. Except he’s not nearly as callous as he pretends and deep down he genuinely wants to care about others. He just doesn’t know how to do it and feels like it can only come at the expense of his own autonomy/safety/happiness.

SO. What artefact would Astarion have that he could choose to give to Gale? Initially I thought maybe something small like the Ring of Color Spray. That didn’t feel significant enough though. Like, yes it would be something of his that he was choosing to part with, but it wasn’t a big enough of a statement to me. So then I tried to find a cool/powerful weapon or something else that he would be less inclined to part with. Whee, more time researching artefacts! But that didn’t feel right either, so I decided it should be something with more personal significance because that’s the biggest kind of sacrifice he could make at this point.

So! What would Astarion have that would be powerful enough to satisfy the orb? And why??? Cazador doesn’t exactly seem like the type to give his spawn anything, not even the basics (i.e. Astarion’s 200 years of starvation). Especially not something like a powerful/helpful artefact. And I was like “well, I mentioned they traded favors before back in chapter four, so maybe Leon enchanted something for him?”

BUT WHY?! I really liked the bits and pieces we see of Leon in game. I feel like he’s the quickest to believe Astarion when he says Cazador plans to sacrifice them in the ritual. And he also has a human daughter! Which, yeah, that whole reveal in game gave me major brain worms. Because WHAT. There was a human child just running around Szarr Palace? WHY? What was her life like? What did the other spawn think of her? And I was also so sad we never really saw much in game about her and her father. Even though Leon loses Victoria to Dalyria. I was really surprised there was no follow up to that for him, but lord knows Larian already had 8 billion other things going on, so I get why it wasn’t something they delved further into.

But what would Leon ask for in return for such a big favor? Ooh, what if Victoria’s ill? Cazador doesn’t exactly seem like the type to be like “Oh, sorry, please take all the PTO you need and here’s some money for a healer!” I’d imagine resources suited to caring for a sick human child would be limited in Szarr Palace. And Dalyria has been looking at Victoria like she’s a literal snack for a while now (which is why she kills her in game), so what’s a vampire papa to do???

So then I had to figure out why the self-purported selfish Astarion would agree to help them. At great personal cost, no less. He never mentions Victoria in game and I don’t think there’s anything in game either that indicates he’s ever done her wrong. Leon certainly didn’t seem concerned about him in that regard, so I decided maybe he’s ambivalent toward Victoria.

So why would he care?!

And then the Drizzt brain worms came back in full force. Because of that fucking phenomenal scene in the DND campaign with Neil fanboying, haha. So maybe Victoria has an interest in Drizzt too? Or maybe in his wife? Like, why wouldn’t a scared little girl who’s stuck in a nest of vampires look up to a strong female role model who is capable of fighting back and saving the day? And I figured Astarion hand’t exactly broadcasted his interest in Drizzt, so maybe this gives him an opportunity to actually connect with someone for once? I feel another major part of Astarion’s character is he is SO FUCKING LONELY. He doesn’t know how to establish actual relationships with people because he never has. And why would he, seeing as any new person he met would just wind up as Cazador’s dinner (as far as he knew anyway). I feel like he’s had to hardcore compartmentalize that part of him for the sake of his sanity.

But now here’s this sick little girl who he can actually help. And she understands what it’s like to dream a hero will swoop in and save the day. And she happens to be interested in stories about the same Drow Ranger who he’s found his own escape from The Horrors™ in?

Idk if he still would have agreed to help Leon in the fic if he’d had much more time to think about it. So instead he has a moment of weakness where he desperately wants to do something good for once (the only other time having been his sparing his “darling boy”). Something that’s never been done for him, but that he could do for Victoria. He could pretend to be her hero for a little while and get something useful out of it in the process. Win-win!

And like, this doesn’t make them bffs or anything. It’s more like a pivotal moment that just started to lay the foundation for his “redemption” in my fic instead. Then I just kept thinking more and more about what his life was like after with Victoria, who’s already come to trust him a little since he doesn’t treat her poorly or look like he wants to eat her. Especially since I figure that’s probably a pretty novel experience for her given her circumstances.

But he and Gale are in the Underdark! Which has magical artefacts! So why couldn’t they just spend a few thousand words locating an artefact so he doesn’t have to give this ring up? Sure, I could make it imperative Gale needs an artefact like yesterday, but that didn’t feel like enough. Thus Tav’s sister was born, lol! And my Tav became much more of a character in the fic because I did WAAAAY too much research on the Drow for chapter five and was completely fascinated by them.

My Tav was never supposed to feature as much as they did in my fic. They’re literally my Tav from in game, though I didn’t really have an in-game backstory for them. They were just supposed to show up in my fic to help with some scenes/dialogue in lieu of me having to write more interactions with the companions I didn’t feel super confident writing because I didn’t feel like I knew them/their unique voices well enough. To my own detriment, I am obsessed with being as IC as possible when I write fic. Just my personal preference in my writing!

This was my basic ass outline from back in April when I realized I needed to add extra chapters. The checkboxes are chapters drafts I’d finished by that point:

I was about 42k words in when I made it. And the outline changed a little too! I combined my planned chapters for 15 and 16 into one and wrote something else for 16.

And then I got to the bane of my existence, Chapter 13… (≖_≖ ). That was around the 60k mark.

Originally I planned for Astarion to be kidnapped by the spawn and get tortured (a little) and then be rescued by Gale & Co. But it just didn’t feel right. So then I thought “Gale should get kidnapped too, that’ll be more interesting!” And THEN I had Cazador show up. But he was being too…nice? Maybe not nice, but like…too chill/accommodating? Because I didn’t want the fic to get EVEN LONGER by setting Astarion’s progress with his trauma back to the stone ages with prolonged exposure to his abuser.

Originally I had Cazador show up, throw Astarion around a little and then Leon was like “Mister Cazador, sir, he has a tadpole, can we all go somewhere you aren’t so I can take a look at it?” And Cazador was just like “HMPF. OKAY, I GUESS. BUT DON’T FORGET I’M ~EVIL~, even though I’m acting pretty blasé right now!” Cut to Gale, Astarion, and Leon chitchatting in the Favored Spawn room.

And it just…was not fucking working. I felt it didn’t make sense for Cazador. It wasn’t boogeyman enough. Like…no way would he just let them traipse off, even with the tadpole as the reason. Something else needed to happen. Something that would give him an actual reason to have to put Astarion on the back burner. Something BIG!

But fucking WHAT???

My OCD chimed in with: “So happy you asked! Remember that other insecurity you have about being fucking terrible at writing villains? Surprise! It’s true! You’ve hit the biggest part of this fic and now it’s all pointless because you don’t know how to make Cazador be believably mean! Aren’t you glad you wasted three months and 60k words on it? You never finish anything anyway, so why should this be any different?”

Which is why I brought all of this up to my therapist in the first place. Because I was so fucking disappointed in and frustrated with myself and had all but given up on this fic. I didn’t know what to do next or how to fix what I broke and my motivation to keep writing it was long gone. But if I stopped writing it now, I was 1000% convinced I’d never finish it and I fucking hated that. I was so excited about this story for so long and it felt like it was all over because I “sucked as a writer, lacked commitment, etc.”

It took a while. Like two fucking months, to get out of my own head enough to finally write something I was happy with for chapter 13. I firmly believe I finally got to that point because of how much support and kindness I received from the folks reading my fanfic (who hadn’t found out I was a fraud yet - actual quote from my OCD). I cannot thank all of them enough for helping bolster my self-esteem and helping me get my motivation back! And also because my therapist helped me kill off my own boogeyman of sorts (my OCD around writing)!

Originally I wasn’t going to post this fic until the first draft was completely done. Didn’t matter that I was at 60k words. It wasn’t done, so it wasn’t going up because I hate when people orphan fics. Absolutely no shade to folks who do tho! Life happens! Motivation wanes! But I did A LOT of my own orphaning back in the day on ff.net and I still feel guilty about it to this day. But I pushed past my fear with the encouragement of my therapist and FUCK it paid off!!!

Once I got over the hurdle of writing 12/13, it was pretty much smooth sailing from there. And, omfg, people ACTUALLY LIKED both chapters?! ON GOD?! I felt like they were pretty solid by the time I finally posted them, but it was still hard not to worry I had falsely convinced myself they were good. What if Cazador was TOO mean now? Or what if he still wasn’t mean enough? What if this was too hard of a left turn with the story? What if what if what if…

I seriously cannot thank the folks who’ve commented on both enough for helping allay those fears of mine. It means so fucking much to me that there are so many people out there who were just SO FUCKING KIND to me when they didn’t have to be! ( ˃̣̣̥︿˂̣̣̥ ) A HUGE thank you to folks who’ve reached out to me or interacted with my posts about my fic on tumblr too, especially asymmetricjest whose ear I know I have talked off at this point in the internet-sense! Knowing there were folks who liked my fic enough to go out of their way to seek me out on tumblr for my Tuesday sneak peeks and to even like my and comment on my posts about writing the fic was a MASSIVE boost to my self confidence! It also made me feel like maybe I had a story worth telling after all!

I also gotta thank my bff Gourmet for letting me talk her ear off too and for reading the first three chapters before I even posted them. I was SO FUCKING NERVOUS about posting a multi-chapter fic for a brand new fandom (to me). I was especially worried about my characterization of Gale and if it looked like I knew enough about BG3 to be qualified to write a story about it lol. Not that that’s even a thing, but it felt like it to me. Like someone was gonna bust down the door and be like “well, actually” until I gave up on writing and became a hermit in the woods.

Gourmet also made the mistake of telling me sometimes she writes on her phone, which I have taken to heart and then some… I do like 95% of my writing on google docs on my phone now. I went from writing next to nothing to having already written 198,088 words this year. Yes, I’ve been tracking it. Yes, I love spreadsheets. No, I haven’t posted everything I’ve written yet.

That was another thing I struggled with in regard to my OCD. Not just with writing, but with life in general. It’s been so hard for me to accept everything does not have to be perfect before I can do something.

I constantly talk myself out of shit because it’s not perfect. Like:

I should start working out! What’s the research on the perfect amount of exercise? What types? How often? For how long? Etc. And then I come up with a detailed day-by-day routine of working out an hour every day that is not even remotely feasible for me, so I never do it! And I won’t let myself just do 10 random minutes of exercise either because that’s not what the experts said you should do, so that means I can’t do anything!

Down to shit like, “I can’t work out because my office is a nightmare. There’s too much stuff everywhere.” And “I can’t just go for a short walk by myself. That’s cruel to my dogs who I already don’t walk enough. But if I walk them too, I need to walk them enough, which is at least 20 minutes each. Because a dog should have 30 minutes of exercise a day.” So now my 10 minute impromptu walk has turned into an hour long dog walk because I can’t walk both of them at once (they’re big dogs and I’ve gotten hurt trying to do that before). Which then becomes too intimidating/overwhelming, so I just don’t do it at all! Yay, avoidance!

This is exactly how I’d talk myself out of writing. Just “a real writer would do xyz and since I can’t/don’t, I’m not a real writer. If I don’t write everyday, I’ll never get anywhere. I need at least an hour to write and if I don’t have that, what’s the point? Maybe I’ll just make myself write for 5 minutes a day instead! But that doesn’t feel like enough progress, so that’s not being a real writer.” Just analysis paralysis combined with a hardcore all or nothing mindset. I would spend way too much time focused on my word count each day and beating myself up about it being too low instead of just being happy I was writing, which is something I enjoy doing (ISN’T IT?!).

I used to be a bank teller about a decade ago. It was boring as fuck during the week because there were too many branches around (there was another of our same bank literally one building away from us) so we didn’t get a ton of customers. That resulted in a lot of downtime that I had to fill with something that wouldn’t get me in trouble (i.e. reading or playing on my phone). We also didn’t have internet on our computers as tellers. So I started taking little pocket notebooks with me and writing in between customers. Which was apparently fine! My coworkers would ask me what I was doing and I’d tell them journaling or something like that because I was embarrassed I was writing original romance stuff.

I wound up writing 3 different 50k original works during that time. I’d write in between customers then go home and type up what I wrote every day. And it fucking worked! It gave me something fun to do instead of stare at a wall all day, it kept me from being too perfectionistic about it, and it lowered the demand on my executive function! Win-win-win!

But then I got a different office job where there wasn’t downtime in between tasks (or at least not that you could enjoy without getting in trouble) so that fell by the wayside. I probably could’ve been writing on my work laptop or something instead, but I had undiagnosed ADHD at the time and spent so much time procrastinating while trapped in the office because it didn’t take me that long to do my work. I also didn’t realize a lot of ADHDers procrastinate because then they get a spike of adrenaline as a deadline looms, so. Yeah. Classic ADHD in retrospect.

But writing on my phone is a whole different ballgame! It doesn’t feel like “real” writing. I can do it whenever! Waiting in a doctor’s office? Write! Woke up in the middle of the night? Write! Laying down on the couch with no motivation to move? Write!

It lowers the barrier for my executive function because I always have my phone on me! No longer am I like “do I have enough time to go to trouble of opening my laptop, opening my google doc, trying to remember where I was, etc” and getting too worked up over having “dedicated” writing time because otherwise I’m not a real writer. There aren’t all these mental hurdles I have to leap over anymore. It’s just “I want to write” > “picks up phone”.

Do I feel fucking deranged writing almost 200k words so far on my phone? ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY I DO! Could I write way faster on my laptop? 10000%! But it works! So I try not to think about it too much, lol. I have started editing more on my laptop though because editing on my phone takes for fucking ever. Editing in general takes me for fucking ever.

But yeah, this was wildly fucking long but I just had a lot of stuff I wanted to mentally process about this whole process because it’s been a really fucking big deal for me. And writing stuff out helps me process it.

If you’ve actually read all of this, you are a saint and I hope some of it resonated with you, especially if you’re a writer too. And, even if you aren’t, I hope it was at least interesting/entertaining!

God, I am so pre-upset about finishing this fic, lol. I don’t want it to end. It’s given me so much structure to my weeks and so much to look forward to. It’s gonna fuck with me once it’s over and I have to find other stuff to occupy my time and I don’t get my Wednesday dopamine hit. I mean, I’m hoping I’ll be writing something else by then (I do have an HH fic that’s 30k+ words already that I need to finish). But I fucking hate change and it’s gonna be a big change for me after I’ll have spent around 7 months on this whole thing.

But seriously, I cannot thank the phenomenal folks who’ve supported me along the way by reading, kudosing, bookmarking, subscribing, commenting, etc enough! This fic would not have gotten written without your support! And thank fuck for my therapist too because I had literally no idea my OCD was so obsessed with my writing until I was in the midst of this fic.

But yeah, it's been super cathartic to journal about my process with this fic and how I've learned and grown from writing it. And my OCD is definitely not completely gone when it comes to my writing, but it's more manageable at present and I'm def gonna take that as a win!

#hismercy’s musings #ancient books and horror stories #my writing #my fics #my writing process #actually ocd #actually adhd #bg3 fanfic #wildly long post

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trisloshr · 9 months ago

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ok im doing this cus @tiny-vermin tagged me and i love verm so i do it (wasting time in class anyway)

last song i listened to: splitting this by spotify/ itunes/ youtube (I Will Listen To 3 Songs At Once) 1. そして、人になる/ mi8k one thing to know about me miyake is my fav vocap ever. yay. 2. 曇天ノ陰ニ/ コン love this album love this song the intro is awesome and the album ver is even better fuck uesssss... 3. 美しき世界/ クロxヒメ sooo good these vocals soooo beuatiful im obsessed (About to start a spiel about lost albums and archiving but i wont)

putting the rest under the cut cus all i care about is music

last book i read: sorry for not reading ok i tried to reread lotr this sem n failed awfully. libby was like Dumbass cant read lotr on top of class in the next 15 days fuckyou. ummm my new issue of dekopon came in yesterday i did read that...

last film i watched: for film class we watched edge of tomorrow last week thought it sucked. everyone booed when they kissed. um. transformers 1984 watched that with friends. laughed so hard Never watch transformers with 2 autistic guys its like being stuck between them on the couch holding the popcorn. and also digimon it was Awesoemeeeeee i love digimon

last tv series: over spring break i started watching the o.c. with my cousin and its rlly fun to watch with a running commentary. once the term started i hvent picked it up again but over the summer id probably finish it. seth is like stilesteenwolf before stiles teenwolf im obsessed withhim.

last thing i googled:

from last friday dont know why i needed peggle make phonecall at 1am Delirious from my all nighter

last thing i ate: all the food here sucks i cant wait to go home i ate indomie for dinner. but when i go home im so excited to eat dry wonton mee... laksa... moving away from home makes u crazy cus i never even liked laksa that much before but now im desperate

sweet savory spicy: awesome splatfest Brother im indian of cause im gonna say spicy. but for snacks i always go savory recently ive been buying lots of chocolate though i have to be in a mood

Amount of sleep: got an hour of sleep on friday and went to 9h of class and slept 16 hours after hope this tells u all that u need to know. theres one week this term i decided i didnt wanna do any hw and i was awake like 4 hours everyday idk what happend to me

currently reading: a book about character design and illustration called イラストのこと、キャラクターデザインのこと by sakazaki chiharu. uts sooo cute... tbh my school library has a lot of really good books but theres no time i also borrowed typographics 2 cybertypes: zines + screens and it looks really cool. would love book recs tbh art books or otherwise

#this reminded me of deviantart journals

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cxldblxxded · 1 year ago

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❛ keep reading , i want to see how long you last . ❜ ( from jamie >:) )

in honor of the slug puppet i lubed up on set yesterday // @mystiika

SOME LEVEL OF interest has already been lost in his book when Jamie enters the room. Whenever they're in the same space together, Cad can't help but pay attention to him. He loves the other shapeshifter quite dearly, a fact he doesn't try to downplay; how could he not offer a look and a smile whenever he arrives?

ALL FURTHER INTEREST is lost when Jamie walks over, drops to his knees, and parts Cad's legs such intentionality that he doesn't have time to question it. He thinks to close his book and set it aside, but Jamie stops him before he can act: keep reading, I want to see how long you can last. Ah, this must have been premeditated. The thought alone makes his cock twitch - he already knows the answer to Jamie's hypothetical, but his attention is obediently turned back to his book nevertheless.

FINGERS UNDO HIS belt, tracing down the line of his zipper before opening it and pushing into his jeans. A few exploratory strokes are given to his rapidly stiffening dick through the fabric of his underwear before granting him the small mercy of releasing him early from his boxers as opposed to letting him strain against them. More languid strokes are given once he's free, enough to pull at Cad's attention on his book, and Jamie wastes no time welcoming him into his mouth once he's well and truly hard.

HIS MOUTH IS hot and wet, and the feeling prompts a quiet sigh from Cad as his attention falters. Jamie's tongue lavishes the underside of his cock as he begins to bob, setting an agonizingly slow pace, and Cad struggles to find his place again; he's lost it, so he merely returns to the top of the page and starts over. The words mean next to nothing right this moment, and he's right about to try to parse letters into real words when Jamie takes him deeper.

PERHAPS HE COULD'VE held focus if not for the obscene squelching noise of spit that accompanies Jamie taking the entirety of his cock into his mouth. His head falls back against the chair he sits in, chest giving one good heave before he forces himself into a proper sitting position again. He has a task at hand, after all, which at this point is to reread the same sentence that he's read three times in as many minutes. He'd reread it a fourth time, but he makes a grave mistake when he sneaks a peek at Jamie over the top of his book.

THERE'S A LINE of drool dripping down his lover's chin, and a hand finds itself on the back of Jamie's head, gripping his hair and gently pushing him down to meet the subtle newly upwards pump of his hips. He feels Jamie's throat tighten as he fights his gag reflex and more spit is forced from between his lips, and the combination makes Cad's breath hitch. Despite this, he lets go, chest shuddering as he reclaims his breath and stills his hips, and his eyes drift closed for a moment as he reorients himself before once more looking back to the book. Behind it he sees Jamie straighten a bit as he slides off his cock with a pop so he can catch his breath, a hand easily working his length slick with spit and precum. His thumb brushes his head and teases his leaking slit, prompting another quiet gasp from poor Caduceus -

ALRIGHT, WELL, JAMIE'S got his answer. He takes Cad back into his mouth as the book is finally discarded in favor of both hands settling into his hair, fingers curling into a firm grip as Jamie's head bobs and his hand jerks him in a faster rhythm than before. There's a hiss to Cad's breath as he watches, hips slightly thrusting into him, chest shallowly heaving as he loses all rational thought in favor of his senses. Jamie sounds hot as Cad's throbbing cock squelches in his wet mouth and he begins to let out muffled moans around him; he looks even hotter with drool spilling down his chin, eyes clouded with lust behind his lashes. Tongue teases his length yet again, swirling against his underside before pulling back just enough to lick the slit of his sensitive tip again.

CAD'S HEAD TILTS back and his mouth falls open in a ragged pant as he cums, fists clenching in Jamie's hair as he does him the service of taking him further into his mouth. Jamie's hand pumps him a few more times, helping him ride the waves of his orgasm, and he swallows his load around him so there's not as much of a mess when he finally pulls away. There's some smugness in his expression as he knows Cad's going to have to reread everything later.

THAT'S A LATER problem. Now, once he's got his breath back, Cad uses his grip to pull Jamie up into a hungry kiss, hands slipping from his hair down to his sides, kissing him for a moment before slipping off the chair to pin the other underneath him on the floor and start undoing his pants.

THE BOOK WILL have to wait.

#ic #mystiika #this is. kind of a lot #anyways. lovely weather we're having #usfw #got so lost in the sauce i forgot to @ u LOL

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olivieblake · 2 years ago

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Hi Olivie! I am back with some praise for “The Lovers Grim”!!! I did read this in November but life went crazy (as it always does) so I am just now sending you my praise. (spoilers included). This is a bit long but most of its length just comes from me sending quotes I loved so hopefully if you just skim those it won’t be as long, I’m sorry :(

I keep telling people that it was a lot sexier than the preceding books in the fairytale collections so that made it super fun overall!!!

Clara and the Devil: What a fun way to start! I love stories where the devil shows up and there’s temptation so I knew I was going to love this one, and I did! I love Clara, I find her super relatable to me. I keep notes in my notes app on my phone as I read your books and I just have written “this is just sexy and everyone is horny” so many times hahah (please take that as a compliment because it is). THE ENDING TOO LIKE 🥵 MY GOD I LOVED IT. Made me want to immediately go jump the WEBTOON, which I did and am obsessed with. The female version of the devil is 🥵 and I definitely have some theories on everything. I’m really liking the bargains with the universe part, I too make bargains with the universe in the hopes it will help me. I read the new update from yesterday too and ahhh so excited to see where everything goes. THE ART OF COURSE IS BEAUTIFUL SENDING MY PRAISE TO LITTLE CHMURA.

I loved this line from the story “I’d asked him to meet me on the beach in the middle of the night, which were terms the devil readily agreed to. He was very agreeable that way, which I hated, but which I also understood. He was reliably available for my sins.”

Both the “Apple’s a bit much don’t you think” and Devil’s food cake made me laugh hahahaha. I also really liked the line “There is more to being good than simply abstaining from vice.”

Once it Happens: OLIVIE THIS STORY!!! It’s truly a story I always dreamed of wanting and just didn’t know existed so I’m super thankful you wrote it. I also did cry as well as feel a whole range of emotions (which as an emotionally repressed person is some of the highest praise I can give you). I’m a lover of the idea of being in someone’s orbit/fate drawing people together/invisible string/soulmates so this story was exactly what I needed. I consider this (and La Petite Mort obviously which I actually reread in December as a pick me up with the audiobook-also fantastic-and loved it even more the second time around.Thanks for that book❤️) my two matches made in heaven. This story actually explains why I ship certain ships, like nicolibby for example, just because I find this type of dynamic to be a super strong and important connection so it makes it hard to fathom them being with other people (for me specifically). Even the bit where “Once it happens, it can't unhappen. It can't be undone.” made me think of “we met, so now we can’t detach” type thing. Most of my favorite ships have this type of dynamic so it made me love this story even more. This story is one I still think about 24/7 and it just made me think a lot/it said so much in so little and left such an impact on me. I think I tabbed every paragraph in this one like I loved it and could probably just sit here and write down every one and tell you all my thoughts etc but that would waste so much of your time so I shall refrain. Just know “I LOVE THIS STORY SO FUCKING MUCH” was written in my notes on this one about 100 times. Enjoy a few of my random rambles:

All the different times they could meet/that it happens and THE ICE CREAM SHOP BEING A COMMON THEME.

“They are children together, opening gifts. They are teenagers, discovering life. They are adults, and sad ones, and when he tilts her chin up for a kiss she breathes something into his mouth he's certain is one word: Finally. He will marry her within a year.” THIS MADE ME CRY

“They live separately and their lives never cross. His children will have her smile and her sense of humor, and neither of them will ever know it.” THEY STILL HAVE THE THREADS OF EACH OTHER IN LIVES THEY DON’T KNOW EACH OTHER (this also made me cry)

The ice cream shop closing 😭😭😭 and then figuring out they grew up in the same town and they think about how they could have met a thousand different ways and didn’t, it’s funny how they came so close and she says she’s glad it finally

THE ENDING PARAGRAPH I’M CRYING AGAIN

Literally thank you for this story and thank you for just writing all my favorite stories and books, much love❤️❤️❤️

Captain McIver’s Ship of Souls: This one was so funny and I loved seeing Arno just be confused about humans haha but I was so intrigued. My personal favorite thing was that the finfolk crave blood and the multiple blood sucking scenes, I don’t know what that says about me but hey it WORKS for me and made me just so very happy to see. THANK YOU QUEEN. The twist in this one was also super good, I didn’t see it coming. I have decided that Eilif from the TA6 universe is one of Arno’s cousins (it is canon in my heart and that is all that matters <3) Here’s some moments I absolutely loved.

“Captain,” comes the voice of Eli's first mate. He's the one who was last to jump on Eli's orders, Arno notes, and dislikes him slightly, though without any particular reason.” We love when a love interest hates a person for just not respecting their love interest!!! ONE OF MY FAVS

To Make a Man: So interesting!!! I was trying to guess what type of creatures they both were the whole time and the stakes were super high so it was so hard to put down. Marcelo has some great lines like ugh THIS MAN he was down so bad. The angst in this is god tier. I just love that they each brought a little bit of peace to each other for a time, and in my head they can find their way back together in however many years.

“Lina, Lina, Lina. You are the softness of your skin, the sharpness of your mind. You are the knife-edge of your humor, which doesn't look like humor at first because, on you, joy looks like suspicion. You are the distance you so meticulously keep between us. You are the door, the latch, the key I understand now that I am an invasion; even with my best intentions, you can only trust me the way you'd trust a flood. There's no choosing which parts of me you accept or which parts of you I want. We seep in through each other's cracks, all or nothing” I LOVED THIS LIKE MY GOD I LOVED IT SO MUCH

“He would have traded euphoria just to keep her, to make her the subject of his tedium. To live a colorless life in the shade of her bones, in the sound of her breath, knowing and eternally recounting the monotony of her details until he grinds himself down to nothing, never learning or experiencing another beautiful thing.” STOPPPP SO GOOD

“Someday, she thought, she would remember this for all that it was, and for all that it wasn't. She would resurrect this very moment into countless perpetuity and embrace the searing pain of it; suffer the boundless joy. Because it had been real. Every moment of it. Every blessed thread.” PAIN

Kill the Bachelor: Another dream I didn’t think to have but like two contestants on the Bachelor ditching him and falling in love??? Amazing. The TV script set up was so cool too it really made me feel like I was just watching episodes of the bachelor. All the satire in this was A+. This one also had me laughing a bunch. Anway, men suck and women are always better (but Josh’s crush on Lauren was cute too)

YAY woman in STEM!!!

“Do you ever feel like you're in this crowd of people and nobody really sees you? Like, you're there, but nobody gets you, you know what I mean?" Yes all the time

KARA (sympathetically)

“A sad day for all Bachelor fans indeed, Craig."

CRAIG (nodding)

"Sure is, Kara! And now, Andrew with the weather."

That made me laugh out loud

I’ll be sending my praise for YES super soon (hopefully soon at least lol I have condense my thoughts/praise to make it not a novel like I LOVED that book and CecilyPorter have joined the crowd of my beloved ships-they are up there with nicolibby, mayracal, and aldoregan for me and by now I’m sure you know how much I love those other 3-so yeah that probably says everything you need to know but I can’t wait to express more of my love of them to you later haha). I’m currently reading “Grow Your Own Optimist!” and loving it so far!

-Amanda

hahaha never apologize! I'm so happy you enjoyed the stories and I'm never mad about getting to know which quotes you liked. I agree, "once it happens" is one of my favorite stories. I feel like that one might be the olivie brand in brief summation? just... about love and life and time and fate and also blowjobs and ice cream. anyway

OH I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT CLARA POSTING AGAIN. I can't wait for you guys to see the end of this season. I mean obviously you know by now I'm obsessed with chmura's art but also I'm pretty proud of how the story ends, because I never intended to keep writing in this universe and wasn't sure I could do a sequel that felt the same way, but I think (fingers crossed) I managed it. I'm really excited to show you the finished product!

#the lovers grim #clara and the devil #filling the bucket

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littlesentences · 1 month ago

Text

Life ripped the paper out of Death’s hands with two fingers to read and reread and reread the only words on the piece of paper.

The clock couldn’t have too many more chimes to get through, but they could feel the other family getting closer in their ears, and knew it didn’t matter how many more chimes the clock had to get through. Their hiding spot had been ruined, and it was only a matter of time before the other family opened the front door of this house.

And that was without thinking about the footsteps from everywhere and nowhere.

The clock stopped chiming, but the pressure in their ears didn’t ease, and all Death wanted to do was leave again. This hiding spot wasn’t meant to last them forever, just until they thought of somewhere better. Like a cage.

Death looked at Michael and chose not to think about how Life was staring at the paper in their hands, or that there was someone in Michael’s hospital room. “Was the deal the only thing that kept them out?”

Michael shrugged. He wasn’t looking at Life, and he hadn’t just found out that there was no way out of his subconscious. So there was no reason why he should be looking so … far away. Then Death heard a sigh from nowhere and wanted to hit him over the head.

There were more important things to worry about.

Like the growing pressure in their ears.

And squeak of the doorknob turning.

They were so sure they had left no sign of life on the outside of this house, there should have been no way for the other family to find them once the clock had stopped chiming. Unless they also felt the pressure in their ears. It made sense. More sense than if they didn’t. Death and Life felt the pressure between each other the same.

Death quickly looked over at them. At the hands hanging between their legs, old and withered, paper loose in their fingers—and Death had never thought of touching them, they knew they would feel like worn leather, the way all old skin does.

Death looked away.

They had held the hands of so many old souls, helping them through doorway after doorway. This time—

The front door closed and the other mother said, “Spread out. Find them.”

Their eyes found their way back to Life’s hands—the hands that had held new souls that had experienced nothing. Death wondered if their hands would be softer because of it. They wondered if their own would be harder.

They had seconds before they needed to leave.

“No one but you and I know I’m here yet, and I’m trusting you to keep my secret.” Michael’s sister. Death didn’t know if it would be a good thing or not. “I know our parents came to see you yesterday, and I don’t know what they told you, but I’ve been staying with a friend because it’s easier than living with the ghost of you they had created.”

If they couldn’t hear three different sets of footsteps, Death would have yelled. Michael’s family always chose the wrong time to do things like this.

Death could only hope his sister wouldn’t be reading out a eulogy.

But even if she did, none of them would have time to listen to it. Michael’s other sister walked into the kitchen, and it took her two seconds to find them all on the ground. Death hadn’t known a child’s smile could look so scary.

“Clever, hiding here,” she said, and Death wondered if she hated the sound of her voice. “Too bad it’s too late.”

They didn’t waste their time saying anything back. Death just held the idea of safety in their head and said to Michael’s subconscious. “Take us away.”

They were somewhere completely new, and Death didn’t expect it to last too long, so they said it again and was only a little surprised Michael’s subconscious took them away.

Michael must want to get far away, too. And if the way he was rubbing his hand meant anything, Death though they knew why.

Sparing a look for where they were now—somewhere Death didn’t know how to describe—they looked back to Michael. Back to his hands. “I take it she’s holding your hand?”

Michael nodded.

“Why couldn’t you move the first time she talked to you?”

Death didn’t think it was the first time his sister had talked to him, but he knew what they meant. “I was trying to squeeze her hand back.”

Like those words had been a secret code, Life whispered to no one in particular, “There has to be another way.”

Mountains. That was the word for the thing all around them, and from the view, Death would guess they were also on one. They were on a flat part of it that ended a couple of metres ahead of them. Death looked back to see trees behind them, leaning like they were on the side of the mountain, stopping once the part they were on started.

This was the first time in the last week either of them had seen the sun. Death did not think about the fact that it was setting, making the sky orange and red and pink and purple. Like a rainbow.

They looked to Life to find them staring at their hands.

Their voice had been so soft, so lost. Death hadn’t even known they could feel that much. Because what else could they be doing as they stared at their hands but mourning what they had lost.

Their existence had been a promise, they would live for as long as humanity, maybe even longer. They were promised to be forever, but it had been ripped from them without a word, their bosses leaving them to figure it out on their own, with barely a call to make sure they were alright and had gotten the message.

Die with Michael or on their own terms.

It should never have even come down to it.

And of course it was Life who was still staring at their hands, fighting the end with everything they had.

When no one said anything, Life looked up, twisting their head to meet their eyes. “There has to be another way.”

Still no one said anything. Because what were they going to say? That the only other way was to wait for Michael to die? That wouldn’t help anyone, and Life would only reject it more. They had to accept that there was nothing else to do on their own.

At the heavy silence, Life pushed themself to their feet with barely a groan. Their voice was louder, more broken, more … just more, when they said again, “There has to be another way.”

Tears were in Life’s eyes, and Death realised they hadn’t known Life could cry. They shook the paper in their hand. “This cannot be it, this cannot be the only thing anyone thought to give us.” Their eyes focused on Death. “This cannot be our end.”

They did not know what to say to the pain in Life’s voice, to the way it shook and broke.

The setting sun cast an orange glow over everything, touching the tops of trees on the mountains that went as far as they could see, turning the flock of birds flying through the rainbow sky into nothing but darkness. Death had forgotten how bright the end of a day could get.

“I’ll do anything, anything, just let us live, please.” It was no question who Life was begging to, even less of a question of whether or not Death could move. If they did, they would have wrapped their arms around Life. “I’ll be mortal, you don’t have to look after me anymore, just let us live, please. You can do whatever you want to me, just let us live! Please!”

Life kept begging, and Death looked back to them to find tears running down their cheeks. They wondered if the words hurt to say as much as they had hurt to hear.

Light from the setting sun glowed around them and Death almost begged Life to shut up. They were begging for both of them to live, for only Life to give up eternity. Death would have done the same without a second thought, but they would not cry as they died. They had decided that a long time ago.

But the way Life was not asking for both of them was testing that.

Death clenched their jaw and stood, staring at Life with Michael between them. “Look at me.”

They sounded so young, but Life was still shocked into shutting up and looking at them. In Life’s eyes, Death saw the pain that had been in their voice fading, and Death changed what they had been going to say. Replacing pain with anger wasn’t the best idea, but was better feeling nothing.

“There is no one coming to save us, and there is no way we can get out of here alive. That is a fact, and has been from the moment we got here. That does not make it any less sad, but it does mean you can’t cry over it, and you can’t beg for a different ending. We will all die by the end of the day, one way or another, and that is something to cry over.”

Death swallowed and blinked and kept going. “It is not a broken promise, our bosses had no idea this would happens and they’ve probably already chosen their next Death and Life. And we will die.” They looked away from Life, out into the mountains and sky so pretty it could have been a painting. “We were going to die anyway, eventually. And it may have been in a way were less aware of, fading out as humanity died out. But this is how we’re going to end, and nothing is going to change that.”

Death looked back at Life and wondered if everything always looked this blurry through tears.

The world inside Michael’s subconscious was quiet as Life and Death looked at each other, and their end inched closer and closer. In the quiet, Death thought it was stupid to have decided not to cry when dying after you had lived for so long.

The moment would have gone on for as long as they could have gotten away with if their hadn’t started screaming.

Just in front of the line of trees were the other family. None of them looked happy, and with the other mother in the lead, they walked up to them. The way she was looking at Death and Life, they expected her to talk to them, but instead she looked at Michael.

“Michael come home,” she said, crouching so she could stare better at the back of his head. “Come with us, we can help you.”

Death had no idea how Michael hadn’t turned around. Even looking at her, they almost couldn’t tell the difference. Her tone making it too easy to think it was his real mother, wanting to take her baby boy home and take care of him.

The gaping hole in her chest made it obvious that she was not Michael’s mum, though. But Michael couldn’t see her. Maybe he just thought it was his real mother from his hospital room, and so he couldn’t do anything. Although he had to feel the pressure in his ears that said it was not.

“Michael turn around, it’s your mum.” She sounded so tired and sad that Michael twitched.

He was still rubbing his hand, but Death didn’t think he was focusing on his sister anymore.

Life must have seen it, too because the next second Life was standing between the other mother and Michael, cane out beside them like they weren’t afraid to swing it again. They probably weren’t. There was nothing they could do about their situation, but they could make Michael’s last minutes hurt less.

To no one’s surprise, the other mother shut up when they looked up to see Life between her and Michael.

Death liked to think they saw fear in her eyes.

“JEN!” The shout came from everywhere and nowhere, filled with fear and relief.

Michael’s sister said something, but Death missed it, instead looking at Life. They point their cane at the other family and said, as deep as they could, “Leave.”

So many words were flying around Michael’s hospital room—none of them yelling, most of it something a parent should say when they found their child after looking—but Death curled their lips as the other mother scrambled back to her own. The other father and sister helped her up and gave Michael’s back one last look before going away.

Death started to wonder where they went before remembering that they didn’t really care.

Death looked down to Michael, ignoring the pressure between them and Life, to find a small smile on his face. It was a smile Death had seen too many times. If they had to guess, they would say his parents had finally shown how much they cared about their daughter.

Quietly, Michael asked, “Can you stay?”

He sounded eight.

It was Life who said, “As long as we can.”

His family arranged themselves in his hospital room, hopefully leaving enough room for the doctors, and Death looked at Life.

They could do nothing, or they could do what everyone had been waiting for all week. Life nodded. Death smiled.

They hated leaving their fate in someone else’s hands, too.

A few words were said, nothing that Death really had to listen to, so they didn’t. They just looked out at the mountains, and the sunset that hadn’t moved or changed since they had got here.

At least they all got to die somewhere beautiful.

It was Death who put out their hand first, and Life who held it.

There was the sensation of hand touching hand—of new touching old—of Death touching Life—of memories of a life long forgotten coming back, and Death couldn’t be sure, but they swore they gasped at the memories of a happy, well-lived life long before anything modern touched the world.

They swore there was someone else there—someone equally as happy—someone so familiar they felt them in their bones. But they did not recognise the face.

And then there was nothing at all.

Prev.

Next.

#im fine how are you?#how to be human #mine #writing #original #;)

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halloumie · 2 years ago

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8 July 2023

Was very sick yesterday. Probably heat exhaustion. Got a migraine, started vomiting at 11pm. Went out twice during the day and the temp was pushing 30 degrees. I felt like this every other day in sg. i'm grateful i don't feel like this often here.

bad interview yesterday for a job i really wanted. by the end of this month i would've racked up at least another 10 interviews, with no result or end in sight. i blanked out and i wasn't confident. i'm never confident.

also we got the keys to the house yesterday. ainan and his paternal family arranged for a plasterer to strip the artex ceiling. there was a hole drilled into the ceiling of the dining room and i looked at it w horror for a couple moments, because there's probably asbestos in the room coming out that hole. an orange cat came by. they also bought paint.

i'm really nervous and worried about the fact that i cheesed my way into a helpdesk interview, with a made up background and no real clue of what helpdesk folks do. i'll watch some videos about it, i guess.

i should start making peace w the fact that i'll likely be job searching for a large part of my life. i'm still uneasy, despondent and anxious about searching and failing. i think i'll never get it. never get a job. but no point wasting my whole life in these bad feelings.

4.55pm

one thing i want to work on is becoming a calmer and more relaxed person. i grew up under extremely anxious parents. i find myself spiralling into repetitive thought patterns. any problem that arises becomes an obsession. for instance, the major problem i've been facing now being my inability to get a job. it takes over everything else, takes precedence and seems inseparable from all other actions and thoughts. when i was a kid i would associate completely irrelevant actions like arranging items in a certain way would indicate that another thing going on in my life would go well.

these days i spend way too much time doom scrolling reddit, finding others who graduated and seemingly cannot get jobs. i browse for jobs all day and when not browsing, fear that i may never get a job. then i spend all day before an interview stressing, reading and rereading about the company, how i should behave and carry myself, some sample answers to possible questions, only to blank out during the interview or be unable to provide satisfactory stories. (which is ridiculous because all i do is tell stories)

then i neglect everything else. i don't wash the dishes enough, don't eat enough and rarely exercise.

i think becoming calmer would also help with the confidence bit. i would ideally want to meditate daily. run every other day. practice japanese and leetcode. i don't know any calm person who isn't confident. it's like being calm stems from confidence in their abilities. think mira and ainan, for the most part.

i cheesed my way to a support interview. it's on monday, and i am panicking. i've never soldered any damn thing in my life. i suppose i could focus on things i can do: system setup, installing software and printers. i feel nervous, difficulty breathing and eye spots as well as the beginnings of a possible migraine. i don't want to feel like this. i don't really know how not to feel like this.

5.56pm

i want money so i can have a dog. then i would have a companion. i also want some way of self introduction, beyond 'i'm in between jobs now'. say, i'm a software engineer, or i work in construction. etc. but i know ultimately it doesn't matter, because people learn who i am and my character traits become more important. also i don't want to be totally dependent on others. but it really isn't that catastrophic as i've said it is.

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latinopercy · 2 years ago

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i recently (mostly) reread pjo/hoo and my feelings are complicated because hoo is lowkey just bad. nico is so dear to me but i can’t help being frustrated with how every single character was handled in hoo. especially nico even though he objectively got more development than half the seven. so many loose ends and (imo) unecessary romance subplots and strangely ooc moments i want to pretend it isn’t canon but that solution pisses me off because the hoo characters really are compelling. then earlier today when i was thinking about where i could find HOO Literary Criticism in 2022 i realized house of hades came out 9 years ago and i felt my brain break because i truly remember it like it was yesterday (i don’t know if this feeling resonates) anyway i think my 12 year old self was right and this series should have been wrapped up over several more books and gone darker. <- my dissertation sorry this is out of the blue id love to hear ur thoughts

yeah hoo is sort of like supernatural to me where it's full of potential and a couple stand out moments but ultimately wastes all of it so i just have to sit here with the version of it that exists in my head for the rest of my life because i can't just let the potential go.. like yes the romance WAS unnecessary and boring yes all of the characters ARE underwritten and inconsistent yes i AM going to reread it just to see nico speak a man to death

#you should read trials of apollo now though if you want to see some of those loose threads tied up...

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littlepadika · 3 years ago

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hi angel 🥰 i’m just in the middle of rereading calling home !!!! i was just wondering, could you ever do a one shot of like sweet pea calming frankie during the middle of the night if he has like an anxiety attack or nightmare? i love the dynamic between those 2 and would love to see how sweet pea calms frankie 🥺

Hi bb sorry this took me a hot minute to get to. First off... i'm thrilled you are re reading my series! Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: PTSD, anxiety, comfort, fluff

AN: This is early in their relationship. Probably right after chapter 5. Therapy also referred to in this drabble

source: @uuuhshiny

You blinked up at the ceiling, sleep momentarily thinning. You heard low muttering beside you.

"Frankie?" You turned reaching over to his side of the bed. He was shaking and sweaty under your hand. "Frankie!" You sat up, this time going to the other side of the bed to flick on the bedside lamp. The dim yellow light revealed Frankie twitching and muttering incoherently. Sweat clung to his forehead. His mouth was pursed in between a frown and snarl. His jaw was clenched tight. His whole body was stiff as a board. He was deep in a nightmare. You heard him say something like "no no".

You had been over this scenario with Frankie. He advised you not to touch him when he was having nightmares in case he acted on instinct and accidentally hurt you. But now that it was real, you couldn't just watch him endure a nightmare like this.

"Hey... hey..." You stoked his arm with your fingers lightly. He jerked away from your touch with a grunt. When he turned his head you saw that there were tears in the corner of his eyes. "Oh, Frankie... Wake up please. Come on, baby. Please wake up." You just continued to slowly stroke his arm, his chest, eventually making your way up to his face. He seemed to be calming down.

Then he abruptly sat up, scooting away from you reflexively.

"Wha-What's..." He looked around the room and then trailed off when he saw you watching him, concern evident on your face. He wiped his wet eyes.

"Nightmare." You explained though you were sure he already knew.

"Did I hurt you?" He immediately asked, looking away in shame. His humiliation mixed toxically with his adrenaline and fear from the dream.

"No. You didn't hurt me." You answered quickly, pushing yourself up, but you resisted hugging him for fear he was still overstimulated. You offered your water bottle to him. "Do-do you want to talk about it?"

Frankie shook his head, looking down at his sweaty self. "It's the usual dream. The helicopter crash." He shuddered, trying to pull himself into the present and away from his distorted memory. He took a couple sips of water and then handed the bottle back to you. Mentally he did the exercises he had practiced. Name one thing you see: Sweet pea. Name one thing you hear: A passing car. Name one thing you feel: Soft sheets. Where are you? Home. Home. Home.

You waited patiently through all of this, giving Frankie space to speak when he was ready. He took a few deep ragged breaths, his fists clenched on the bed below you. Too scared to touch you yet. He worried that he may have scared you off. That now you would have seen that all of his demons were real.

"I'm sorry I woke you up, sweet pea." His gruff voice was dripping with guilt. You frowned, not in frustration at him but at the stigma that led him to feel so terrible about dreams he could not control.

"Frankie...you didn't bother me." You couldn't resist laying a hand over his bare stomach feeling him relax at your touch. "I'm glad I woke up. I want to comfort you."

He sniffed, new tears in his eyes. He was still looking away from you. You understood. It was such a vulnerable state for anyone, let alone someone who had endured as much rejection as Frankie had.

"Can I hold you? Is that okay?" You feel your own voice shake with emotion. Your power and your love was limited with him not in your arms. As much as you knew your voice could move mountains, you needed to console him with more than words.

"Yes. please." Frankie exhaled finally looking at you, his brown eyes misty and wanting. You wasted no time climbing over his legs and pulling his face into your neck. His arms linked around your back, holding you close.

His skin, that earlier vibrated like it was trying to break apart, settled under your touch. Solidifying enough so he could finally sense each part of his body. Hands, wrists, elbows, shoulders, and so on. He mentally listed each one as it related to you. Your hands on his head. Your chest on his chest. Your breath on his neck.

"I have you." You promised, knowing the words would help ground him. "I have you. I'm not going anywhere. Just be here with me."

"I'm so tired of this." He whispered into your warm embrace. "I just want to be better."

"I know." You sat back cupping his face in your hands, rubbing your thumb over that patch of grey in his beard.

"I was doing so well." He continued to beat himself up. He had been so pleased to have gone nearly a month without any nightmares or PTSD. He tried to think of something that could have triggered him but yesterday was a normal Thursday. He didn't drink. He didn't have a stressful customer at work. He had sex. He showered. Sometimes there was no trigger and that was the most unsettling type of episode.

Frankie ducked his head, resting his forehead in between your breasts. He wished he could crawl inside you and away from his thoughts. His PTSD made him nauseous and too hyper to sleep. He was both hyper-focused and dazed at the same time. Every nightmare always felt like an omen that things were going to get bad again. He was going to start craving and then eventually relapse.

You rubbed his back in slow circles trying to coax him into a more normal breathing rate. A minute passed, the only sounds were Frankie's rough breathing and your slower one.

"What else do you need?" You asked gently.

"Can you- can you light the candle please?" He requested in a muffled voice.

"Sure." You smiled, reaching over to his side of the bed and pulling out the lighter. Your candle, already well used, was soon flickering brightly. The floral scent you and Frankie loved, filled your brain making sleep slowly start to edge its way in. You could feel his breathing slow. "That better?"

"Mmhmm." He grumbled. Something about the scent grounded him to this chapter in his life; the one with you in it. He wasn't that lonely guy anymore. He wasn't in a war zone. He had everything he could ever dream of right in his arms... and yet... this still happened. "I'm sorry, sweet pea."

"What for?" You tousled his hair affectionally.

"For-for being messed up."

"Frankie..." You nudged his head up so you could kiss him deeply. You let him take the lead, pressing him tongue into your mouth and pulling you tighter against his chest. At your quiet moan he pulled back letting you finish your thought. You didn't care how many times you had to say it, touch it, kiss it into reality: Frankie was perfect the way he was.

"You aren't messed up." You murmured, holding his eyes with your earnest gaze. "You're strong. You're resilient and brave. I love you because of that. You're like... a phoenix. You rise from the ashes." Then you giggled. "Sorry I just thought of a hybrid between a catfish and a Phoenix."

"Ha." He laughed shakily, tightening his arms around you. "A fish on fire. Sounds about right."

"Or a bird with whiskers." You snorted.

He kissed you again, relishing your little giggles against his lips. You laced your hands with his.

"I'm here to remind you to be kind to yourself. Remember how far you've come. I'm so proud of you, Frankie."

Once again he reflected on how lucky he was to have you in the flesh. Your empathy amazed him. It had from day one but his awe grew monumentally tonight. You weren't scared. You saw all of his brokenness for what it was and you only loved him harder. He had to trust your vision of him when his own internal compass failed.

"You tired, little pea?" He chuckled when you yawned cutely, after trying to hold it in.

"No." You told a small lie, just to keep him from trying to put your needs first. You weren't going to sleep until you knew he felt safe. "How are you feeling? Be honest, please."

Frankie searched his body with another deep breath. "Better. I'm just really amped up from the adrenaline. But go back to sleep, little pea. I'll read or something.”

"Mmm read to me?" You asked holding back another yawn.

"Sure." He chuckled. You rolled off of him pulling the covers back over you both. Frankie grabbed his copy of The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue. You latched onto him like a koala bear and hung onto his deep voice. Frankie appreciated the weight of your arm on his stomach and head on his chest. You could hear his heartbeat below your ear slowing.

Frankie paused his quiet oration to peer down at your relaxed face and fluttering eye lids. "I love you, sweet pea."

"mmm love you too." You breathed in reply.

For the first time, Frankie was able to go back to sleep after his nightmare.

~~~~~~~~~~

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bobohu4eva · 4 years ago

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Pink Lace - Chapter 5

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Tag list: @smolbeanmika @leave-me-in-the-summertime @totallynerdstuff @bbhmystar @nana-banana @kimyhappy @thegreatandi @geniusloey @deligxt @baekswifey @bbhyun506 @lovebuginlove @bellamendoza @baekyeonoreo @bobohumyonlyboo

Masterlist

After your conversation with Baekhyun Monday evening Tuesday was spent desperately trying to get Baekhyun off your mind, with little success. He’d asked you if you liked him like that, and you couldn’t tell him no. Hell, you knew in the back of your mind that the answer was definitely yes, you just couldn’t bring yourself to say it to his face.

As much as you did like him, the prospect of starting something with a customer who was also your professor was still terrifying. What if you two got together and people found out? Or what if things started to go south and you were still stuck with him as your teacher?

Despite your other schoolwork, and cleaning basically everything you possibly could, your mind just kept racing with every different possible scenario for if you did tell Baekhyun how you felt. And most of them were quite unpleasant. He could lose his job, you could make class absolute hell for yourself if things didn’t go well, and so on. Different possibilities played themselves out in your mind over and over, and there was little you could do to stop it.

However the thoughts that stuck with you the most were the ones where things didn’t end badly. Thoughts of his arms around you, his comforting words whispered in your ear, and the gentle touches of his pretty hands on your skin. As much as you fought it, the attraction was there.

The way your mind bounced between thoughts was stressful to no end. Every time you tried reasoning with yourself, you just thought about how good he made you feel when you were alone together.

Baekhyun was always so willing to be vulnerable with you, it made you feel appreciated. He was so open about his feelings, and honest with his intentions towards you that it made it difficult to push him away. You wanted to be able to show him the same kind of vulnerability as well, but the possibilities if you did still frightened you too much.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to go on like this forever, sooner or later you had to figure out what to say to him.

Your essay was plaguing you as well. You’d tried to start it on several occasions, but Plato’s writing was so old timey and incomprehensible you didn’t even know where to start. It also didn’t help that every time you tried to start writing, all you could think about was what Baekhyun would think. The idea of turning a shitty paper in for him to read and grade made you feel sick. You knew you were shooting yourself in the foot putting it off but you just couldn’t bring yourself to start it either.

“You’ve cleaned everything in the apartment. Twice. What’s with you today y/n?” Mia asked as she walked out of her bedroom and into the common area, finding you once again wiping down all the surfaces in the kitchen.

“I’m trying to distract myself, was that not obvious?” You knew what was coming next.

“Baekhyun still on your mind?”

Yes. He was. In every possible way, good and bad, and you couldn’t stop it.

“I think I do like him.”

“See! I knew it!” You rolled your eyes at her. “Anything exciting happen yesterday? Did you decide to keep the money?” She asked, sitting down at the dining room table, you sitting down across from her.

“I’m keeping it, I tried giving it back but he told me some stuff and turns out he doesn’t need it after all.”

“So he IS rich?!”

“Yeah... although not from anything cool or fun. His rich parents died recently.”

“Oh shit, that sucks. That must’ve been an awkward conversation.”

“Not really. I don’t know why but talking to him is getting easier and easier. I even stayed after he told me I could go.”

“You really must like him then, damn. Can’t blame you though, he is hot.” You shot her an angry look but you both knew she was right. “So what are you gonna do about it?”

“Do about what?”

“You liking him. He obviously likes you a lot too, so what happens next?”

“Nothing. He’s my professor.”

The look she shot you next said something reminiscent of ‘are you fucking serious’.

“Oh come on y/n this guy is hot, and rich, and super into you. Even if he is your professor you can’t pass up a fling at least.”

“And when it ends? What then? Or if someone finds out he’s fucking a student? He’d lose his job and it would be my fault.”

“No, it would be his fault, and he’s rich anyway so it wouldn’t even matter.”

You thought back to your last conversation with Baekhyun, and what he said about his parents. Even if he did choose to risk it for you, the thought of him losing a job that meant so much to him still didn’t sit right with you.

“It would matter to me. Either way I don’t want other students shit talking me either. If my classmates found out there was something between us it would be hell.”

“All I'm hearing right now, is that you just need to not get caught. The semester is only 16 weeks, as long as nothing gets out while you’re in his class nothing too bad can happen. You just have to be careful.”

You thought about it, and she wasn’t exactly wrong. As long as nothing got out while you were his student, nothing too bad could happen.

“He won’t lose his job if people find out we’re together later on when I’m not his student anymore, right?”

Mia shrugged. “He doesn’t hold any power over you anymore then so I don’t see why he’d get in any trouble. People might just think it’s weird since he’s older. How old is he anyway? He looks young.”

“I’m not exactly sure... Somewhere around 30? Late 20s maybe? I should ask him.”

“Yeah you should. I still have homework I need to do, I should get back to that.” She said before getting herself a glass of water and retreating back to her bedroom.

The next morning you were exhausted. You hadn’t gotten much sleep because of everything that was going through your head. You wanted Baekhyun, and he wanted you, but there was still too much risk involved. But part of you kept thinking about what Mia had said as well. Could a fling really be that bad?

You were nervous to see him too. You still hadn’t given him an answer to his question, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to dodge it forever. Lying seemed like a decent option, but you knew with how honest and vulnerable Baekhyun always was with you, you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to lie to him. Especially when you did want something more with him, you were just scared.

As philosophy class drew closer and closer you felt uneasy. You felt bad seeing Baekhyun again without giving him an answer, but you didn’t know how or what to say. You only hoped he wouldn’t press you for it.

Class went by and you didn’t speak to him. He didn’t keep you after either, which was a relief. You had been hoping he’d at least go over some stuff that would help you on your essay, but you had no such luck, and you needed it done by midnight if you wanted any credit.

When you got home you cursed yourself for procrastinating so much, but you had other homework too and you knew you’d be able to focus on that better, so you started it first.

Eventually your mind got sucked into your physics assignment, and you forgot about Baekhyun and the essay, too focused on the task at hand.

By the time you were done with your other assignments it was 8pm. Four hours until you had to submit your essay. One hour went by just reading and rereading the text you were supposed to write about. Another was wasted on an intro paragraph you kept deleting, because you still couldn’t understand the text. When 10pm hit, and you started to panic.

You realized that you weren’t going to be able to do it. Your mind was now in freak out mode and you couldn’t concentrate anyway. Either the paper wasn’t getting turned in at all, or you needed to do something fast. In any other class you would’ve BS-ed your way through it to turn at least something in, but you just couldn’t do that knowing Baekhyun was going to read it. You weren’t going to be able to submit it that night, but you needed to at least contact him and explain so he wouldn’t think you were stupid.

By 10:30 you found yourself scrolling through your contacts, staring at his name. You’d thought about emailing him, but he probably wouldn’t see until morning and you didn’t have that much time.

In hindsight you probably would’ve been fine to just send an email and try to get an extension, but the combination of anxiety over your grade and wanting to talk to him had his name in your phone looking better and better.

So you called.

Your nerves were on fire as you waited for him to hopefully pick up. Was this stupid? Would he even answer? Worst of all, what if he was disappointed in you for not being able to do the assignment?

After a few rings, he picked up. “Hello?”

“Hi Baekhyun, it’s y/n.”

“Y/n? Are you alright what’s going on?” You could hear the concern in his voice even over the phone, and you remembered why he gave you his number in the first place.

“I- I can’t do the essay.” You felt your voice shake, before unloading all your grievances in one breath “I read the thing a million times and I still have no idea what it’s about and I put it off until tonight cause it was making me so anxious but I still can’t focus and now it’s too late and I don’t know what to do and I’m freaking out.”

You heard him sigh. “Slow down, It’s okay, I know it’s a difficult assignment. Have you at least started?”

“No..” You felt tears swelling in your eyes, threatening to spill and you’re sure he can hear it in your voice even over the phone. “Can I just skip this one? I tried to start it so many times but I don’t know how to analyze something I can’t even understand.” You choked out.

“Y/n...” You could tell he was thinking of what to do. He probably shouldn’t give you special treatment, and you knew that but right now you hoped he would just give in. Unfortunately you had no such luck. “I’m sorry but I can’t let you just not do it. It would make it too obvious that I’m treating you differently than other students.”

“Then can you at least help me? Or give me more time? Please?” You begged.

“I’m still in my office. I can help you if you meet me here.”

You felt your palms get sweaty and your heart beat faster at the idea of going to his office again after what had happened last time, especially this late at night and in such a fragile state.

“O-okay. I’ll be there in 10. Bye.” You said, hanging up before he could respond.

Quickly you got on some shoes and drove yourself to the building his office was located in. Last time you’d been in there he’d asked you about your feelings for him, and now you had to go back. You told yourself to just focus on getting the essay done, but the thought still hung around in the back of your mind as you walked down the hall towards Baekhyun’s office. You felt jittery and embarrassed, but you needed to do this for your grade.

After taking a few deep breaths to ready yourself, you knocked on the door, and heard a muffled “Come in” from the other side, so you let yourself in. Baekhyun was sitting at his desk, which was covered in papers you assumed he’d been grading. Instead of the nicer clothes he would usually wear during lecture, he was just wearing a black t shirt and sweats now.

“You know you scared the shit out of me when you called. I thought you were in danger or something.” He said to you as you sat down in front of him. “I really didn’t think you’d call me over school work.”

“I’m sorry..”

“It’s okay! I’m not mad or anything, just surprised. What part of the text are you having trouble with?”

“All of it...” You felt your lip starting to quiver. “I’m sorry I know this sounds so stupid and you probably think I’m just trying to take advantage of how you like me but I promise it’s not like that.” You said, looking down and fidgeting with your hands, trying to hide the frustration on your face.

Baekhyun crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, smiling. “I never said I thought that. I told you it’s not an easy assignment, it’s ok if you’re having trouble. Plato can be difficult especially for people who aren’t used to reading things that old.”

“I should’ve at least started earlier...”

“Probably, but it’s too late to dwell on that now. Let’s just try to go over the reading together, yeah?” You nodded.

He moved his chair to your side of the desk before opening your textbook to the reading for the essay.

“So the first thing that makes The Ring of Gyges so confusing is that you don’t really know who’s talking. Basically it’s a conversation between Plato and his brother Glaucon where they’re discussing justice, and it’s actually Glaucon speaking for most of it, not Plato.”

You were listening to what he was saying of course, but you were still distracted by the proximity. Baekhyun was sitting right next to you now, arms almost touching. The only other time the two of you got that close was at the club. And you did not need to be thinking about that while he was explaining your assignment to you.

“Are you following me so far?”

Your eyes immediately shot up from the book to meet his, and you quickly nodded. Having him look you in the eyes again like that made your face feel hot.

“Glaucon argues that people only peruse justice for the benefits of it, and not because they actually want to be good people. He uses the example of a ring that grants it’s user invisibility, therefore allowing them to do unjust things like steal without being caught. He tells Plato a story about a man who finds such a ring and uses it do overthrow the king.”

You groaned. “It still doesn’t make sense though, what does some story about a stupid ring have to do with justice?”

“Well, if you were given the ability to steal and deceive people for your own benefit, without ever having to worry about getting caught, wouldn’t you do it too?” You stayed silent. “Basically, what you need to understand is what Glaucon is arguing. He’s saying that doing good deeds isn’t a part of human nature, and everyone would behave unjustly if they knew they would never get caught. Therefore, justice is something people pursue not out of want, but out of fear of the consequences if they don’t.”

All you could do was stare at him. It was infuriating how attractive he sounded while explaining it to you.

“Do you have a bit of a better idea what to write about now? Remember it’s only two pages, so don’t stress too much.”

You snapped yourself out of your thoughts. “Yeah, it makes a bit more sense now... do I still need to finish it tonight or?”

“Friday. Just email it to me by midnight on Friday and I won’t count it late.” He said, smiling again.

“Thank you for doing this, I’m sorry it was so late and everything.”

Baekhyun just chucked, “You know if it’s you I don’t mind. You could keep me here all night with questions and I wouldn’t stop you. But you understand now, right?”

The way he was smiling at you now along with the closeness was making you slightly dizzy.

“I think so, Glaucon is basically saying that injustice is better than justice then right? Because everyone would do unjust things if they’d always get away with it.”

Baekhyun nodded.

“So according to him the best way to live life would be to do things you know are wrong, but without being caught.”

“Exactly. See, I knew you were smart, y/n.” A smirk had made its way onto his face as he spoke.

You couldn’t help connecting what he was saying to what you were feeling inside towards him. You wanted him, and you knew it was wrong, but how could you deny it to yourself when it felt so right?

“Baekhyun...” You asked, hesitantly. “D-do you think it’s okay to do things you know are wrong, as long as no one finds out?”

“I think it depends what you’re talking about.” He answered, now looking you in the eyes again with intensity. “I would never kill anyone, for any reason, even if I knew I could get away with it. But, if I really wanted something, I think I would take it.”

You were hyperaware of how his eyes were now scanning your face, lingering on your lips. “Take what?”

A hand made contact with your thigh, slowly moving up until he stopped, right below the hem of your shorts. His thumb drew soft circles on the sensitive inner flesh, giving you goosebumps.

“I know you feel it too, you want this, don’t you?” Baekhyun asked, now moving a stand of hair out of your face. He let his hand rest on the back of your neck, keeping you facing towards him.

Your heart felt like it was about to short circuit from how fast it was beating. Your palms were sweaty and you could feel yourself shaking slightly. The way his thumb stroked your neck beneath your ear made you shiver, and you knew he saw. All you could do was stare back at him, dumbfounded. Any words you tried to get out stuck in your throat. He was right, you did want it. Now more than ever.

“Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you right now. I dare you.” He said, running his thumb over your bottom lip, eyes fixed on how it trembled beneath his touch. He was slowly moving your face closer his, but you didn’t stop him.

Your silence told Baekhyun all he needed to know, and his lips quickly found yours. Immediately you let yourself melt into the kiss. You felt your whole body buzzing, finally getting what it had wanted for so long. His lips felt unbelievably soft against yours, moving in a slow rhythm as his other hand came up from your thigh to cup your face as well. You wrapped your arms around his neck and deepened the kiss, letting it become messier and more desperate.

“I like you” you pulled away just enough to whisper “so fucking much.” You felt him grin into the kiss as your lips met again.

He tasted like strawberries, and you felt high as your lips kept crashing together with more and more need. Your whole body felt like it was set on fire and simultaneously dunked in an ice bath, every nerve vibrating with want.

When Baekhyun pulled your bottom lip gently between his teeth you let out a soft moan, and he started to lose it. He broke the kiss, standing up and pulling with him, before backing you up against the wall, a hand on either side of your head.

“Sweetheart, don’t push me” He breathed, and started peppering kisses along the side of your neck, from under your ear down to your collarbone, sucking and biting on the way.

Trapped between him and the wall, you felt weak and breathless. Your brain was in overdrive and you gasped at his ministrations, hands burying themselves in his soft hair. His hands had traveled down to your waist, holding you against him tightly.

“Baekhyun” You breathed out, rubbing your thighs together as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot.

“Fuck, y/n. Don��t say that.” He forced the words out through gritted teeth.

His body pressed you into the wall, and your arms wrapped around him pulling him into you even tighter. He was completely consuming your senses and your knees felt wobbly from the intensity of it all. He was already smothering your entire front, but you tried to pull him even closer regardless.

You felt something hard press into your hip as his mouth covered yours again, and this time you shamelessly moaned his name into his open mouth.

Much to your disappointment, Baekhyun immediately detatched himself from you, backing up until his back hit the opposite wall of the office. You could see how turned on he was by the outline of his dick through his pants and the pained look in his face.

“Fucking christ...” He said, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. You just watched from the other side of the room. He kept his eyes closed and you observed as his jaw clenched and unclenched before you heard him continue. “You have to go. If you don’t I’m gonna fuck you on my desk and I won’t be gentle.”

Your throat went dry at his crude words, but you couldn’t deny your own arousal. You walked back towards him, reaching out to touch his chest which was now rising and falling rapidly, but he grabbed you before you could make contact. His grip on your wrist was so tight it was almost painful. His knuckles were white, and you could see a drop of sweat trickle down the side of his face.

His eyes bore into your own with a stare that warned you not to try anything more.

“I’m sorry y/n but you have to leave. Not tonight. Not like this.” With his free hand he grabbed your belongings off his desk, shoving them into your arms.

Still speechless, he opened the door and pulled you outside before going back in and closing the door behind him. You stood and stared at his office door for a minute, recollecting yourself and processing what the hell had just happened.

Eventually your shaky legs began making their way down the hallway, back towards your car. You were pretty sure a janitor saw you as you turned the corner just down the hall from Baekhyun’s office. You kept your head down, trying to hide your face best you could while hurrying past.

Once you were sitting in your car, you slumped into the seat, mind still in a daze after what happened in Baekhyun’s office. You waited for your breathing and heartrate to slow down before you drove away.

Baekhyun left shorty after you as well, unable to concentrate on anything but the sound of you moaning his name. He felt terrible for throwing you out of his office but he’d meant what he said. He didn’t want his first time to have you to be in his office, purely fueled by pent up lust. He wanted to give you more than that.

More than anything, he just couldn’t believe he’d gotten what he’d wanted for the entire summer. It didn’t seem possible, but now it had happened. And you actually kissed him back. It felt too good to be true. He felt himself once again struggling to sleep, but this time because he was too excited. This time, he didn’t have to keep himself up wondering, he knew he had you. He just couldn’t wait to see what would happed now.

You on the other hand couldn’t stop worrying about that exact thing as you stared at the ceiling above your bed. What would happen now? The thoughts weren’t fearful anymore, there was just too many of them to shut your mind down enough to sleep.

You’d finally allowed yourself to give into him, and there was no more turning back.

Next Chapter

#baekhyun #exo #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic #exo fanfic #exo fluff #exo smut

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