#not to mention getting my period after 6 months of nothing having one

[leviiackrman]

Me: I wanna be productive so bad! I wanna finish my drawings!!

Illness: how about barf up a lung?

[lavenderspence]

Missing the happy hormone | S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: emotional reader, period mention, fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Apparently Spencer Reid could make anything better - even the emotional disaster of being on your period

A/N: First, huge thank you to the cutie that sent in this request, you literally caught me while on my period so this was born. Also, here’s to my inability to write short fics, this is your only warning that i can make and will make anything long, lol. Also, my titles suck omg. And shoutout to my crazy bestie for making me a Mamma Mia girly, she rocks.

But also, happy one month to this blog! When I carved out this little space for myself a month ago I wasn’t really sure how I’d feel being back here and writing again, but so far it’s been a treat. A huge thank you for all of your support and love and thank you to my mutuals and everyone that interacted with my blog. 💕 Here’s to many more months to come!

Request: spencer x fem!reader on her period/ovulating and shes in tears all the time?? Im ovulating and have been crying for hours and keep calling my mom lmaoo he’d been so lovely and sweet I know it I can feel it in my bones

masterlist

It was a slow day at the BAU. The most exciting thing in the 6 hours Spencer had spent at work was Rossi’s invitation to dinner the following weekend. 

Paperwork had piled high after their last 2 cases, so every team member was hunched over their desk, writing and revising reports. It was a never-ending cycle - finish a report, close the file, open a new one, and start all over again.

His eyes had started getting tired after four and a half hours, his hand had started cramping and he was down two pens so far, yet there was still a prominent pile on his desk.

He suspected Morgan and Emily might have pushed a file or two from theirs onto his load, seeing as he was getting done the fastest. Regardless, every few hours JJ was bringing even more to pile on top of everything that wasn’t finished, so buried in paperwork they stayed - no matter how fast he wrote or read, or how used to the load he was.

He was just thinking about getting up to prepare a fresh pot of coffee so he could function properly for a few more hours when his phone started ringing. He felt around the pockets of his suit jacket, where it sat draped on his chair, and then pulled it free. 

His display showed an incoming call, a picture of you as he hugged you, hands around your middle and face almost buried into your neck, a soft smile gracing both your faces. A scenery rich with reds, browns, and yellows stood behind you, the beauty of fall was nothing short of spectacular. 

The picture you’d taken last year when the team spent a weekend at Rossi’s cabin in the woods, surrounded by the beauty of landscapes and leaves, nature for miles. 

He accepted the call right away, a small smile on his face. 

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, if a little raspy from misuse. He hadn’t talked much in the last few hours - just a distracted short answer here or a hum there. He was happy you were calling, though, welcoming the reprieve from the most recent report. 

It was silent for a few seconds, and he wondered absentmindedly if maybe you hadn’t called him on accident, and then there came a tiny little sniffle from your side. 

“Sweetheart?” He prompted, “Are you there? What’s going on?” Worry was starting to creep into the base of his spine, but he still remained calm and kept his voice gentle. 

“I’m here. Hi.” Another small sniffle, “All’s good. Just…I was just wondering how much longer you’d be gone.” Your voice was small,like you thought you might upset him by asking, and a little crackly, like you yourself were upset about something. 

His eyebrows furrowed, and he checked the time quickly - 3:57 pm. 

“Probably about two more hours, there’s a lot of paperwork we need to go through.” His eyes met Emily’s as she sent him a curious, questioning look. 

“Oh, okay.” The resignation was clear in your voice, “I’ll see you later then.” The call ended abruptly, and it took him a second to catch up.

He couldn’t help but feel like not everything was as good as you claimed it was. For one, you rarely called to ask when he’d be home - you knew his work could span into the late hours, or even stretch for days. You let him update you on any changes in his work schedule. 

In your interactions, your voice was usually upbeat and teasing - especially on the phone. Your kindness was always evident in your voice, as was your mood. You were a sunshine person, if he ever met one, that’s probably why you and Penelope formed such a close bond upon meeting. 

There was something that nagged him - a change in your mood he could pick up on just by your voice - too low, too small, and the cracks that he could now identify as he replayed your conversation in his head. You were keeping yourself from crying out, and yet there was nothing more apparent than the tears in your voice. And that made him worry. 

“Reid, are you okay?” Emily’s voice snapped him from the hard stare he’d been giving his phone in the last several minutes since the call ended. 

“I…I don’t know.” His eye twitched, and he cleared his throat before he tried and failed to articulate exactly what was happening - he himself had a hard time understanding. One thing he knew was that he needed to get home. “I..um, I need to go. Can you, please?” He asked, gusting at the remaining three files on his desk before he pulled his suit jacket on and grabbed his satchel. 

Morgan and Emily shared a mildly concerned look before they both nodded their heads, “Yeah, go. Text to let us know if everything is okay.” Morgan reminded him before he exited the bullpen with a fast step and tried to keep calm.

He was aware the situation wasn’t anything that he needed to be incredibly worried over - if something was really wrong, he knew you would have let him know. Yet, he couldn’t help the way his heart constricted by the sound of your voice, or the overwhelming desire to come home and gently hold you, see what could have caused this behavior. 

You were curled up on the couch, watching as Donna helped Sophie get ready for her wedding, the gentle melody of “Slipping through my fingers” filling the empty apartment. Your eyes were watering, to the point that everything was starting to get blurry. A shaky exhale left your lips.

Today has simply been a rollercoaster. Kissing Spencer goodbye this morning was the highlight of the day. What followed was nothing short of an emotional disaster. 

You’d teared up during breakfast, images of picking berries with Spencer flying through your mind. The desire to make it a reality was strong. 

Following that had come the overwhelming urge to bawl your eyes out, for no apparent reason whatsoever. Just cry and cry until you had it all emptied out and you could take a deep breath and continue with your day. So, cry you did, and then you’d finished with your chores for the day. 

Apparently letting it all out and emptying your tear supply hadn’t happened. Seeing as around 3:30 you’d started missing your boyfriend so much, the need to hear his voice had won out, so you’d called him. You felt the need to have him home to hold you because this month’s visit from mother flow was making you feel like a crybaby.

But then there was disappointment at the notion that you needed to wait close to 3 hours before that could happen. So you quickly ended the call before he could pick up on the tone of your voice, and then you shed a few tears. 

Now here you were, rewatching Mamma Mia because you really needed a pick me up, and once again, eyes shining as the tears started falling. At this point, it was a losing battle, so you let them fall, humming to the song with a broken voice. 

That’s exactly how Spencer found you, not a minute later. His keys were in his hand, the satchel on his shoulder, and he was just a little bit out of breath. 

The moment his eyes met you, they softened as he dropped everything and sat down next to you. His hand reached up and he cradled the side of your face, wiping your tears away. 

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper.

“Look at Donna painting Sophie’s nails, it’s...” You hiccuped, another wave of tears washing over you. “And you’re home, why are you home?” Your question was met with a furrow in his brow, as his thumbs continued wiping underneath your eyes. 

“You called.” He answered simply. 

“But you said-” He stopped you before you could finish your sentence.

“I did, yes. But you sounded off and sad, so. Want to tell me what’s going on?” He prompted you gently as he pushed your hair back and pulled you into his lap after, feeling like you needed the physical contact. 

You weren’t ashamed to admit it, per se, but you were ashamed that your hormones had caused him to leave work and race home to be with you. 

“It’s my period,” you mumbled, hands wrapping around his neck as you hid your face in his chest, too tired to prevent your eyes from watering again. “It’s been going on all day. Randomly, I’d just get so emotional, and the tears would start. I was missing you so much too, and then hearing the song, bam, tears again. I’m so done with this Spence.” You sounded barely coherent, with your face pushed as close to him as possible. 

It all made sense now, you’d been cranky a few days ago, and then you’d told him last night your cramps were unbearable, so he knew you were on your period, but right now he felt like an idiot for not figuring it out himself. 

“It’s okay, everything is fine. The drop in estrogen and progesterone, following your ovulation triggered this. This in turn reduced the production of serotonin, your happy hormone. So, we just need to boost it a bit.” He whispered into your ear as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“How?” You sighed into his chest, almost being able to pick up on the sound of his heartbeat.

He got deep in thought for a few seconds as you breathed in his scent, and a sense of calmness slowly overtook you now that he was home and holding you. One of his hands was running soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand, fingers interlocked. 

“How about we take a trip to the store and get you some snacks? We’ll pick up dinner on the way home and then I'll hold you some more and you'll pick a movie for us to watch.” He suggested, kissing the crown of your head once, twice, and many more times until you gave him an answer. 

“Yeah, yeah, I think that would help, but just having you here has done wonders.” You finally laid your head against his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. He smiled, and so did you. Having him here really had helped immensely, and when had it not? He was your other half, your rock, and even when your emotions ran rampant or you were feeling down, just his presence, his touch, and his understanding were enough to make it all okay. 

Later in the evening, Penelope sent you a photo of Sergio sleep-hugging a little plushy you’d gotten him, and the waterworks started all over again. Luckily, Spencer was there, wiping your tears and kissing your head, saying a thousand things without actually speaking a word.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Requests are open for both Spencer and Hotch if you want to send any!

[inky125]

Mary Linton and Jack Marston meeting in 1922

Okay but these are just my headcanons for the very improbable scenario that they end up bumping into each other in the future. / My headcanons for what they would do with their lives after the events of rdr/rdr2

(I'm going to explain them under the cut)

Okay so, starting with Jack:

I want to believe Jack lived a more or less normal life after killing Ross, successfully getting away with this one (1) murder, and having that as a skeleton in his closet. Not finding peace really, so the whole revenge thing doesn't fix his miserable life but he can go on to try to do something with his life. Gunslinging doesn't really have a place anymore here.

When the US joined WWI I know that boy DID NOT join the US Army, he would NEVER join the group that killed his dad, or make the same mistake as him and make a deal with the government. He would rather be jailed for dodging the draft, what will they do, threaten him with what? He has nothing to live for really, so they can't make him. I don't think he cares much if he gets shot (he has a like saying as much in rdr when he duels Ross).

After the whole jail thing he'd go back to a more or less normal life, I'd guess he would have to have a regular job and write whenever he's able (I want to believe that one Easter egg in GTA is canon...it is to me...), but I don't think he'd be able to make a living just from writing.

As for Mary, I always wondered why Mary was dressed the way she was during the credits cut scene in Rdr2. Because I'm guessing it takes place in 1907 (given that most cut scenes appear to happen at the same time more or less than the epilogue). But I wondered why Mary was dressing in black; I mean, during the Victorian era there were very specific mourning traditions, especially for women. Wearing black was pretty much a part of a social thing, you'd publicly mourn. The extension of your mourning would depend on who died and what was your relationship with them.

And here is the thing, Arthur had died 8 years ago by then, we could assume Mary had found out shortly after of his dead because newspapers in the Rdr2 universe love to brag whenever law enforcement/Pinkertons kill renown outlaws. (Even Arthur and Hosea get mentioned years later in some sort of article in 1907 too). And additionally, we know that Mary kept up with how the gang, especially Arthur, was doing through the news on the newspapers. So again, it wouldn't be crazy to assume she knew about Arthur's death back in 1899.

So then, why is she wearing a black dress to visit his grave in 1907?. Black is the color of mourning, but as far as I am aware (and correct me if I'm wrong) it was not required to visit a grave back in the day. So I like to headcanon Mary mourning Arthur like a widow, because widows would have to wear their black weeds for 2 years (there were different periods of mourning, for instance Mary's clothes could be classified under the 'half-mourning' type, meaning there has been at least 6 months since her loved one passed away, meaning she could now wear some jewelry, other colours, ect.

But here is a little extra, Queen Victoria popularized among some women the practice to never abandon their period of half mourning, and especially, keep wearing black the rest of their lives even if they move on, as a sign of love for their dead husband.

Mary and Arthur never got married, but I like to think Mary lived as a widow for him. Continuing with her life as normal, of course, but always having that bittersweet ache in her heart, dressing in black out of respect and love for him and the life they couldn't have. Even if she had wanted to move on from him after she realized they couldn't be together as Arthur wouldn't leave the gang, I think she would have folded if Arthur had gone after her (I mean she did re-initiate contact after they were supposed to never speak again), and I think she was still preparing herself emotionally when she heard the news that Arthur was dead, ironically not moving on from him.

She didn't remarry, Jamie made good money and maintained her, Mary knew the kind of life she didn't want and she could be respectable and old as a widow. Plus marrying someone new at her age would be a titanic task.

I think Mary kept her mother's brooch Arthur returned for her as her reminder of him, given that she returned the picture and the ring. In fact she's wearing it when she visits Arthur's grave in-game!. So I kept that

It just warms my heart to think of the very few people left who knew about the gang finding each other in usual ways. Maybe next time I'd do Sadie or Charles. I'm just a sucker for this kind of things

[heartandfangs]

NOT IF IT'S YOU— PART ONE.

GENRE University AU, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Angst, Smut, Fluff 

PAIRING Nerd!Heeseung x f!Reader

WARNINGS 18+ ONLY MDNI, Jealousy, Cursing, Making out, Arguing, Anxiety, Depression, Flirting, Mentions of food, Brief violence, Brief mention of alcohol, Brief mention of somnophilia, Crying (all sorts), Degradation, Breast worship, Multiple Orgasms, Squirting, Coming untouched, Heavy spit play, Light BDSM, Edging, Spanking, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Cream Pie, Dry humping, Praise kink, First-time blow job, Ball sucking, Fingering, Cum eating, Ear licking, Biting, Public Sex, Light bondage, Dom!Heeseung, Brattysub!FemMC, Sub!Heeseung, Softdom!FemMC, Other OC’s

SUMMARY Befriending a nerd who wants nothing to do with you in a coding class you want absolutely nothing to do with becomes the challenge of the semester— and you’re determined to ace that shit no matter what.  WORD COUNT 29k (Fic Total)

AUTHOR’S NOTE Long time no see— it’s P, the romantic at heart! This one’s for the people who play otome games, whose favorite spot on campus is the library, and who are afraid to be loved but want to love as hard as they possibly can.

Enjoy my contribution to the tropey Uni AU genre! Also wtf thank you for 1k followers (If you’re a minor please unfollow me. Idc if that puts me way back under. If you’re not, thank you, and stay tuned bc I will do something to celebrate… once I get through 6 months worth of notifications rip)

See end of part two for author’s note cont.

Masterlist, Part Two

© 2022, Heart and Fangs. All rights reserved. Do not translate or post anywhere.

“Have you ever gotten the random urge to give someone a blow job?”

You lifted your head from your notes, eyes wide and scrutinizing. Why did your friend have to be so damn loud in the library, of all places?

A scoff barely escaped your mouth before you dived back into your textbook, “There’s not a person with a dick on this university campus that deserves one from me. Why? Have you?”

“All the time, but especially when I’m on my period,” Rin confessed, “Hormones.”

“Oh, I bet.”

I don’t know how Rin finds the time to think about these things… 

Your friend pouted while drumming her pencil against the communal library table as if she could hear your judgemental thoughts. There were more important things for you to worry about, clearly. 

You sighed as you began to pack up your backpack to catch your most dreaded class of the semester, coding. 

It was an elective you immediately regretted taking, but you swore to yourself to see it through to expand your skill set. Unfortunately, it was just a week into the semester, and the horrid feeling that you would fail a class for the first time was way too real.

Rin continued to spew nonsense, “Maybe I should check this dating app—”

You slung your backpack over your shoulder and ruffled Rin’s hair on your way to the elevators, “You are a slut, aren’t you?”

“Please stop acting like you’re not,” Rin rolled her eyes and raised her voice just enough to carry over the bookshelves and be heard by unsuspecting students, “There’s only so many otome games one can play!”

“Shhh!” You hissed at her to shut up, eyes shooting daggers at the snickering girl.

She must’ve been spying on you every time you pulled out your phone to take a break. What did she have against your little games? After your first relationship went up in flames, they were a pretty decent replacement for dating and soon became an addictive hobby. 

They were great time-killers, required minimum commitments, and had a plethora of eye candy to choose from. Even if you did screw up, you just needed to wait a few days to replenish your lives. Plus, they all fit in your pocket…

And they could never break your heart like your ex had. 

‘I’m gonna kill you’, You mouthed at her over your shoulder while slamming your fist against the elevator button. 

Rin tapped her lips with her middle finger and sent you a flying kiss. Deep down, she hoped you’d come across a sweet boy for your own good.

While you stared at the colored lines of code on the monitor in front of you, determined to at least figure out how to embed one damn photo onto your website for tomorrow’s critique, your silent tablemate on your left tapped away at his keyboard with ease.

Everything about the guy screamed overachiever; it was 45 minutes after class had ended, and he was still working away on his project after everyone else had left.

Meanwhile, you were pretending to know what you were doing by typing in some random characters and then immediately deleting them. Being the anxiety-ridden person you were, you managed to work up a nervous sweat, your palms going numb.

Fuck, this is embarrassing. I should just leave and figure it out once I get home.

The student next to you didn’t seem to have any issues, but then again, the course you enrolled in was actually a combined class with different levels, and clearly, this wasn’t his first course in the subject. It was definitely an odd curriculum; you weren’t sure why you hadn’t read the class description more thoroughly. 

“Hi! Mind if I sit here?” You asked the student earlier upon seeing the closest open seat available.

The boy didn’t say hello, he merely spared you a glance, adjusted his glasses, then resumed the staring contest with his computer screen.

“Okay…” You said with a touch of annoyance in your tone. His eyes barely shifted to your face in response, and then he was back to typing.

His standoffish attitude from the moment you walked into the class and took the closest open seat next to him irked you more than it should’ve. 

It wasn’t until you sat down next to him that you were thrown off by how big the guy actually was, but even more so, the faint scent of sweet lavender wafting off of him. You weren't sure whether it was cologne or detergent, just that it somewhat reminded you of your favorite macaron flavor.

How unexpected. Well, that ruins it, you thought. 

Even if the guy smelled pretty damn nice, he was snooty in your book. If he didn’t have such an aloof attitude about him, you might’ve befriended him just to reach out for notes in the class in case you got sick. 

Rin often called you a prideful bitch, and you’d brush off her accusations, but deep down, you knew her words had some weight to them. Prideful was a fair adjective; your strong desire to handle your own business kept others at bay, which was great for someone like you who liked to be left to your own devices.

Though pride paired with stubbornness wasn’t necessarily the most beneficial combination when finding oneself in a pinch…

Nearly two hours of the class begrudgingly swept by, and you were still stuck on the initial steps, your brain utterly confused by the jumble of lines and coding rules you had to adhere to. It was a huge struggle to keep up with the pace the professor taught, let alone ensure the material stuck in your brain. 

It also didn’t help that the boy next to you had the audacity to pull up a window of manga on the side to read while you were struggling your ass off.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed at him.

Now, the class was well over, and you still managed to convince yourself to stay even though the shit your professor covered in lecture went in through one ear and out the other. 

After such a long day of stacked classes, your facade slipped, and you dropped your head into your hands. If you were honest, some of your pride slipped along with it. Since you were so busy, the last meal you had eaten was yesterday’s dinner, and you were starving. There were tons of other class assignments you hadn’t even touched yet. 

You bit your lip and watched the boy out of the corner of your eye, debating for a solid minute if you should ask for help. At this point, you were just wasting precious time that could be spent running to the nearest McDonald's for a burger.

In the name of efficiency, you decided to reach out for help from the person you least wanted to ask— but just this once.

“Hey. Could you show me how to add an image to my site? I can’t figure it out even though I tried to follow the directions….”

First, you saw the boy’s brown eyes widen ever so slightly before he looked over you in consideration. 

If he says no, I guess I’ll go fuck myself. 

“Sure.” 

Oh.

Feeling your heart flood with relief, you replied gratefully, “Thank you.”

You were taken aback when you watched him slide off his chair and drop to his knees by your side. He leaned over the edge of the table to take control of your mouse and keyboard, his attention fixed on the debauched code on your screen.

Really, you two could’ve just switched seats, but you decided to let him do his thing while you tucked your hands under your thighs and watched. Your brain was beyond trying to make sense of what he was inputting into your code.

Funnily enough, the silence between you two was even more awkward than it had been before you spoke to each other. Still, you refrained from distracting him, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. 

After a minute, you decided to check him out instead.

Your eyes shifted between the computer screen and his calm, concentrated features since you hadn’t really gotten a good look at him before.

His black, wispy bangs hung just over his dark eyes, and his circular, silver-rimmed glasses sort of amplified their roundness. They held a touch of naïveté in them– but when you looked at him from the side, they were sharpened due to focus.

Admittedly, he had the softest-looking set of lips, the kind that anyone would easily be jealous of. The slope of his nose was just as cute, to your annoyance.

Your eyes trailed downwards to the pronounced curve of his throat, but just for a moment before returning your attention to the screen of code.

He was attractive in an unexpected sort of way.

It actually was kind of sweet that he’d be willing to kneel on the questionable floor of the computer lab to help you out. You wondered if he was trying to make up for ignoring you at the beginning of class.

“Is this the photo you want to add?” He hovered the mouse over the recent file in your downloads folder.

“Yeah.”

You must’ve really fucked up your code because the slowest five minutes passed before he clicked save on your program, and most of it you spent trying to act like you hadn’t been staring at him every other second.

The boy finally stood up with the slightest groan, and to your dismay, the sound went straight between your thighs.

Woah there.

“Try refreshing that,” He instructed while rubbing at his kneecaps through his jeans.

With the click of a mouse, you refreshed the program to see a jpg of your favorite Shrek meme pop up on your otherwise bare-bones-looking website.

“Wow— it actually works. Thank you,” You were unable to help yourself from beaming up at him, rather impressed at his efficiency.

He merely nodded, averting his eyes.

Was he older than you or younger? Did he work on the weekends? Have a significant other? A myriad of ridiculous questions bombarded your mind.

“What’s your name?” You asked.

That was a good, normal place to start.

“Heeseung,” he stretched his arms over his head and winced at the slightest crick of his shoulder. All your eyes could focus on were the sharp lines of his waist peeking out under the edge of his sweatshirt. 

You introduced yourself as casually as you could, “My name’s ___. This really isn’t my thing, so thank you.”

“Anytime,” He said simply, rubbing at the back of his neck.

In a flash of a second, the shameless part of your mind dared to imagine how that shy expression of his might twist into one of pleasure— how his breathy sighs would fill your ears while he was hunched over, bracing himself on the table. At the same time, you pictured yourself between his long legs, mouthing kisses over his bulge, watching him twitch above you all the while.

‘Who’s the slut now?’ You could already hear Rin’s ridiculous comments; she must’ve poisoned your brain with the thought. 

Feeling yourself starting to go slightly demented from the turn of events, you excused yourself and threw your supplies into your backpack to leave as quickly as you could, entirely oblivious to how Heeseung stared after you on your way out.

Heeseung meant it when he said, ‘anytime.’

From that day on, there wasn’t an instance where he didn’t hesitate to help when you asked him for it. Each day, you grew less and less hesitant to ask him for assistance which was… interesting.

What was even more unbelievable was that he never asked for anything in return, and you were so grateful, so smitten by him. The assignments you received were absolutely distressing, yet Heeseung didn’t appear to resent your requests and was always more than willing to lend you a hand. Based on your life experience, that was far from normal. 

There was a question that you just had to ask a few weeks into the semester when he was helping you work on one of your projects for the nth time.

“Honestly, do you like doing this?” 

Heeseung leaned back in his chair and appeared contemplative while stretching his wrists. “No. Coding is a tedious process, but if you’re referring to helping you,” He looked at you with an earnest gleam in his eyes and gave you a small smile, “Yes, I really like helping you.”

It was the first time you felt your heart skip in a while.

Right then and there, you could’ve dropped to your knees and let him use your mouth however he pleased. Fuck everyone else in the class; you would’ve done it.

On a serious note, it was unfortunate that you had nothing to offer him of value in the class.

Your creative mind worked so differently, and you two didn’t share any other classes you could help him with. So you often tried to make up for it by conversing and attempting to get to know him.

Emphasis on attempt.

The downside to your interactions was that he rarely engaged with you on the occasion, even when you tried to initiate a casual conversation with him.

“What are you always reading during class?” You glanced over at his screen curiously one day.

Heeseung was always quick to minimize the extra window when you caught him. “Nothing much, just manga. Need something?”

“What? I— No, I was just wondering,” You’d quirk a brow at him, and he’d return to his task.

Every time you came into class and took the same seat next to him, you’d greet him, and he’d greet you in return but left it at that. After assisting you with an issue, he’d always quietly turn back to his computer and pick up where he left off. Maybe you’d be able to get in a question or two, but he hardly talked up a storm.

Even when you probed him about his life, Heeseung merely gave short replies or shook off your questions. He was so difficult to get to know and apparently didn’t care to hold a conversation with you outside of coding. Still, you were insistent because you were a relatively private individual yourself. Really, you tried to understand where he was coming from.

“I’m so glad I don’t have classes after this,” a yawn escaped your lips as you covered your mouth with your hand.

Heeseung’s typing never ceased, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” You stared at his profile, waiting to see if he’d continue the conversation. After a second too long of waiting, you asked, “Do you have any night classes?”

“I don’t. I have work.”

You perked up in your seat. “Oh? Where at?”

“I’m actually about to change jobs, so it really doesn’t matter,” Heeseung responded curtly. 

You sank back into your chair. “Oh. Sorry.”

He turned to look at you as if to say something, an apologetic expression nearly taking hold of his features, but he seemingly held himself back and returned to his work. 

Still, within the coming weeks, you grew curious about his family as well. One day your curiosity was at its peak, and you rattled off questions about any possible siblings he might have. That was less intrusive than asking about a significant other, right?

“So, are you an only child, or do you have any siblings?” You probed during a particularly long day and difficult class session. When one’s brain was already fried, it didn’t hurt to completely give up on figuring something out, especially if you had Heeseung. 

Just for today, you promised yourself as Heeseung was clicking away at your keyboard, helping you out as usual.

“... I have a brother,” Heeseung hesitated, “Stepbrother, actually. He’s a student as well.”

“No way? Same major as you?”

“No…” and he left it at that, making you wonder if they weren’t on the greatest terms... Or if he just didn’t care to share more of his life with you.

Nonetheless, your attempts to converse with him day after day eventually took a toll on you. Clearly, you were bothering him with the questions, but it’s not like you just chose anyone to put effort into getting to know. Why couldn’t he understand that? Most people would’ve loved getting asked about their life and would easily drone on and on about themselves. 

Rin would cackle at you now if she only knew of your circumstances. As if you would ever tell her with the shit way things were going. 

God, I should just stick to my little otome game apps with automated responses.

After several weeks of your relationship with him going nowhere, your savior became the source of your frustration.

Guys never helped you out without an ulterior motive or expecting something in return, so it was almost inconceivable to think someone like Heeseung existed. His caring personality subverted your initial expectations of him, and you knew his selfless actions came from a sincere place, but still…

This had grown beyond needing his help in class. All you wanted to do was get to know Heeseung because you had taken a genuine interest in him.

Was that asking for a lot?

The day you walked into class and plopped into your seat without saying hello to him, Heeseung knew something was up. The boy had gotten much too used to your greetings every day.

Barely able to contain your irritation with him, you stared straight ahead at your screen and got to work, despite feeling his eyes on you. 

Beside you, Heeseung was desperately trying to read your stoic expression. He’d glance at you meekly, and look back at his computer for a few seconds, only to peer over at you again. 

This cycle went on for the next few minutes until you heard him greet you first, for once.

“Hey, ___–”

“Hey,” You barely spared him a look and settled back into your workflow just as swiftly.

Stumped by your odd behavior, Heeseung drew his hands into his lap and fell quiet once more.

Just when you thought he’d leave you be, Heeseung pulled up to your side in his rolling chair, that signature lavender scent of his invading your senses. His knee bumped into yours but stayed there.

“Do you need my help with anything?”

“No, thank you,” you replied coldly.

You saw him wilt out of the corner of your eye, and something vengeful in you felt good about making him feel the way you’ve felt for the past months. The other part of you just felt plain guilty.

Feeling suffocated, you abruptly left the class to get some fresh air. You were hoping the open-air foyer filled with wooden benches would grant you a moment of reprieve.

Choosing the farthest bench from the entrance, you sat down and propped up your legs, pulling your knees close to your chin. The evening breeze swept across your flushed cheeks, and you were mortified to realize tears were threatening to spill down them.

It was childish of you to reject Heeseung’s attention once you finally got it, but… you couldn’t help it. You knew the attention wasn’t due to any sort of genuine feelings toward you; it was merely your petty behavior that provoked him.

Was this how it felt to be rejected while trying so hard to befriend someone? Is this how people felt when you made them jump through a hundred hoops to get to know you? 

You thought back to when you took the chance to let someone in for the first and last time. Had you just been too much? Or maybe not worth the trouble?

If that were true… maybe that was the reason your first love had cheated on you. 

Old feelings bubbled up in your chest, and suddenly everything really felt like shit. 

To make things worse, you were sulking. Even though Heeseung could tell something was up and was trying to diagnose the situation, he still infuriated you. If anyone had to deal with an aloof individual for as long as you did, you were sure they’d go crazy too.

Especially if they were as cute as Heeseung was.

Fuck. 

There was no way you were about to cry in public over a boy, the most angelic, frustrating boy you’ve ever met. 

Not everybody reciprocated people’s feelings equally, and it was simply life to deal with it. Still…

Once you buried your face into your arms, you released your pent-up emotions with a shaky breath, letting the hot tears fall and soak into your jeans. You decided to stay there for a while, long enough until you knew everyone in class would be gone, so you could rest assured no one would see your pathetic tear-stained face.

It was a good half hour after class ended before you made your way back to collect your belongings and catch the bus to head home. Somehow, you cried for the majority of it as quietly as you could.

It actually helped a bit, as it had back then. 

When you pulled open the door, you froze like a deer in headlights.

Heeseung stared up at you with wide eyes from where he was sitting; he was the only one left in the class, which you hadn’t counted on.

He wasn’t waiting for you, was he?

“Um…” You trailed off and slowly turned to leave again, but he was already out of his seat, making his way toward you.

Jesus—

You were hardly ever standing next to each other, so facing him head-on at his tall stature was intimidating, even with his cardigan and those nerdy glasses of his. Perhaps it also had to do with the unfamiliar look in his eyes and the intense concern in them.

“Are you okay?” He reached out to touch your arm, but you stepped back and caught him by the shoulders, holding him back at arm's length.

Unable to look at him directly, you stared down at your shoes next to his, eyes stinging again as if you didn’t just spend half an hour crying.

Just seeing his face and hearing his voice brought on a flood of confusing emotions.

“Yeah? I-I’m fine,” You insisted.

Even though Heeseung couldn’t see your face, he saw your tears fall onto your sneakers and felt your grip curl into his shoulders.

“___, if it’s something I said or did…” Heeseung’s voice went soft, and you nearly jumped when you felt his hands slide over yours, his thumbs stroking comfortingly over your skin, “You can tell me.”

His mere touch slowly brought your anxiety down, one stroke of his thumb after the other— at the same time, it sent shivers along your skin. 

It’s what you didn’t say or do.

Fear threatened to cut your voice off completely. You took several deep breaths, trying to sort out your thoughts so that you could properly convey how you were feeling. 

Here was your chance to be honest with him from the get-go. It was scary, but you needed to try.

“I consider you as someone who I’m really grateful for, Heeseung. Especially after how much of your time you’ve given me this semester,” You sighed, glancing up at him even though your vision was blurry, “You’re a really talented guy. It’s just impossible to get to know you because you like to keep to yourself. I think I understand why you do. Even I don’t like letting other people in all the time...”

Something seemed to click in his mind at your words; you saw his lips part ever so slightly in realization, his eyes widening a fraction.

“... But it’s still hard to be on the receiving end of that. However, if that’s where you want me,” You pulled your hands out of his, letting them drop to your side, “Then there’s not much I can do about that.”

Quietly, you brushed past him and packed your backpack in a hurry to leave.

Heeseung fell silent behind you, and when you left him, you kept your eyes trained on the floor.

The next day, you remained in a foul mood as you chose to sit on the opposite side of your table to avoid the tension of being next to Heeseung for two hours straight. As you expected, the student who usually sat there confronted you about it.

“Hey, this is my seat. I’ve been sitting here all semester.”

You didn’t care to grant her your full attention and continued typing, “I don’t see your name on it.”

It was definitely a shitty thing to say, but you couldn’t bring yourself to give a damn at that moment. 

She was stunned into silence and subsequently stomped over to the next row to take her seat next to Heeseung. There was no doubt that he overheard your confrontation. 

Class sped by while you were laser-focused on completing everything you needed to get done for that period— without Heeseung’s help. At least one good thing came out of taking notes and watching Heeseung work these past several weeks; your evolving skill set. You were far from excellent, but you had gotten at least a bit better with the basics. 

This time, you didn’t plan on sticking around after class.

It seemed like Heeseung was prepared for you not to because the moment you stood up and bolted to the door, he was already out of his seat, hot on your trail.

Heeseung called out your name.

You ignored him, even as he easily caught up with your pace. His silence yesterday already confirmed all you needed to know about how he felt about you. 

He caught your elbow, and you stopped to look him dead in the eye. “What do you think you’re doing? Let go.”

Heeseung immediately released you, “Sorry, I just wanted to talk—“

A menacing force slammed into your back, propelling you straight into Heeseung’s chest. Someone halfway down the hall called out a sarcastic apology, but it barely registered— you were startled by how Heeseung steadied you against his hard body.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You scowled, already shaking his hands off despite your body aching at the feeling of him so near, “What did you want now?”

Heeseung‘s eyes wavered, but he managed to hold your scrutinizing gaze. 

“Do you want to grab dinner?”

He really felt the pressure of an impending ‘no’ when all you did was stare at him.

You frowned, “What?”

Heeseung gulped but continued, “You don’t have any other classes for the day, right? There’s a really good Thai place just on the edge of campus, and their Pad Thai is the best— at least within a 20-mile radius.”

Was he doing this all of a sudden because he pitied you?

“You don’t need to do this.”

Heeseung looked like he was on the verge of panicking, but just as quickly, a sense of determination overcame him. 

He took a step forward, “But what if I want to?”

You looked off to the side, “I’m confused. Why all of a sudden?”

“I know it’s like I’m doing this out of the blue,” He sounded in a rush due to nerves, so he slowed down his speech, “I’m not good with words, and it’s true that I’m easily distracted by my classes. But I do care about you, ___.”

Your chest throbbed as he peered down at you from under his lashes with furrowed brows, “I know I’m usually pretty distant, and I can’t make up for everything in a night, but I really would like to talk with you over dinner… only if you want to join me.”

Heeseung’s expression appeared so hopeful, and his gaze held an amount of tenderness that had you shifting your weight under the unusual attention you were receiving. 

What was that look he was giving you?

He felt you brush by him, and he hung his head. 

Heeseung felt his stomach twist with guilt, he knew you wouldn’t give him a chance after how he’d been treating you—

“… Fine.”

Heeseung straightened up with wide eyes and turned to face you as you set off in the completely wrong direction. 

“It’s this way,” He eagerly called after you.

You came to a quick halt, then turned back around, crossing your arms, “Lead the way then.”

He smiled to himself when he heard the unmistakable sound of your stomach grumbling ever so faintly.

 

Walking across campus with Heeseung was convenient because the majority of people made plenty of room for the two of you, all thanks to the giant by your side. Usually, they’d have no issue bumping shoulders with you or overlooking you. 

Must be nice to be able to part seas of people, you thought enviously. 

Heeseung remained quiet for the majority of the walk except for mentioning a direction here and there. All the while, you were trying to anticipate what Heeseung might have to say to you once you got to the restaurant. 

The sky grew to be a deep orange by the time you entered the quaint Thai restaurant at the front of the campus. A simple aqua blue neon sign that read 01 Thai shone across asphalt above an old, cream colored building. While you considered their signature menu options, you turned Heeseung’s words over in your head.

“I do care about you, ___.”

Do you really?

“And what would you like to order?” The cashier asked you.

“Oh. I guess I’ll try the Pad Thai.”

“Anything to drink?”

“Just water, please,” You absentmindedly dug in your pocket to hand over your card, but Heeseung was already handing over his. 

Your brows drew together as you quietly glanced up at him, not wanting to make a scene.

He gave you a nervous smile, “My treat.”

You looked over your shoulder for seating, “I’ll Venmo you later.”

“No need,” He shook his head, guiding you to a corner table. 

“I will.”

Even from across the small wooden table, Heeseung sensed your lingering discomfort, understandably. He looked like he wanted to say something, but so did you, so he waited.

After a contemplative moment, you met his eyes and folded your hands on the table. “Heeseung, don’t tell me you're doing all this just because you feel bad.”

“No�� I mean, in a way, yes. I know how I can be, and I’m sorry that you had to deal with that. I never meant to hurt you the way I did.”

I really did emotionally throw up on him yesterday, and his silence didn’t make it any better. Even now, I still feel high-strung about the whole ordeal, but he seems sorry about it…

“Listen, I get that you feel guilty, but if you really do just want to be friends, there’s no need for anything crazy. Just talking would be nice to start.”

“Right...” He stared right at you. 

Your brows knit together once more at the uncertainty in his voice.

“Right,” Heeseung repeated, almost to himself, “That’s doable. Although guilt plays a significant part in driving me to do what I’m doing… Please know it’s not my only motivator.”

Heeseung startled you when he reached out to take one of your hands in his. You still looked utterly confused, so he exhaled softly before squeezing your hand and running the pad of his thumb along your knuckles, just like he did back in class. 

Goosebumps immediately broke out on your skin from the heat of his touch.

Oh.

Behind his glasses, his eyes were intent; you had his full attention. “I’ve been really out of touch with people these days, and I regret it. However, I had some personal things I was working through. It’s not an excuse, but I do care about you, ___. I hope you can eventually find a way to forgive me.”

At his sudden admittance, your heart rate began to pick up. Immediately you hated how vulnerable his words made you feel, but that also meant that they were real. His forwardness rendered you genuinely speechless; even your mind drew a blank. 

It seemed like he could sense it.

“I-I see,” You stared at your daintier hand in his own, then looked back up at Heeseung’s keen gaze. 

His brows drew together, and his lips curled upwards ever so slightly, “Am I making you nervous?” He sounded like he was making a discovery. 

Heat immediately flooded your face once more, and you took your hand back out of embarrassment. 

He gnawed on his lip, his eyelids lowering a fraction, “Sorry.”

A waitress pulled up to your table with a tray of steaming bowls, and Heeseung thanked the waitress as she left while you reached for a pair of chopsticks.

“What kind of question is that?” You mumbled while you picked at your noodles. Your brain was failing to make sense of Heeseung’s feelings towards you.

He didn’t let up.

“You make me really nervous, ___,” Heeseung dared to reveal in a low voice. 

As he expected, his declaration drew your attention back to him. Your eyes narrowed at Heeseung, who wore a small yet knowing smile, clearly trying to get a rise out of you. 

Is this really the same guy who chased me down to grab dinner with him?

Little did you know the boy sitting across from you was attuned to your every movement— from the quickened pace of your breath to the twitch of your leg when his knee brushed against yours underneath the table.

Naturally, he would be after spending so much time at your side for the past couple of months, taking note of your little habits and mannerisms. 

He also knew you’d be skeptical for a while after this, that it would take time to prove his sincerity once more. Heeseung was willing to overcome that by any means.

When Heeseung realized he had stunned you into silence, he finally looked down at his own plate. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop teasing. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

“Agreed,” You were grateful for the change of subject because you just barely survived his sudden undivided attention. Also, you were beyond famished.

All the while, your mouth was watering at the sight of the food, so you took a bite of the Pad Thai and savored the flavorful spices on your tongue. It was pretty damn good, Heeseung had taste. One bite of noodles, and suddenly, you felt as though you were gaining back your senses. 

He’s kind of flirty, isn’t he?

After several more bites and a nice gulp of cold water, you felt ready to hold a proper conversation.

“Don’t bullshit me anymore, Heeseung,” You commented, propping your chin up on your palm.

He chuckled softly, and you squinted his way.

“I’ll try my best, ___.”

Over dinner, Heeseung allowed you to delve into his mind, which was certainly a treat. 

Not without difficulty, of course. 

His answers remained vague unless you pressed further; it was like pulling teeth, but you could tell he was trying. With enough persistence, he divulged you.

“Do you just really like to keep a low profile?” You asked, referencing his deflection of your attempts at conversing with him during class, “I mean, I figured you just found me annoying.”

Heeseung slowly began, “I wasn’t in the best headspace this semester. Things at my old job weren’t going well at all, and those issues combined with the stress of my classes resulted in me feeling very closed off from my surroundings.”

You scratched your cheek. “I see. How does that usually affect you?”

“I tend to isolate myself under pressure, and it becomes difficult for me to connect with… well, those around me,” Heeseung explained, running his fingers back and forth over the grain of the tabletop. 

“Hm, that’s tough. Honestly, you always seem like you have your shit together.”

Heeseung shook his head, “It’s… a facade of sorts.”

“Well, a lot of people have one,” Your eyes wandered down to your plate, it had been scraped clean for a while. 

The shop was empty save for you two, it must’ve been growing closer to closing time, what with the moonlight shining through the windows. 

“Yeah? What’s yours?”

Ah, now it’s his turn to take a shot at me.

Being vulnerable was difficult, especially with all of Heeseung’s attention on you. Silence fell over you two, but he waited, even when it felt like you weren’t going to speak. 

“Probably enjoying being alone. Not that I don’t, but it depends on how I’m feeling that day. I see independence and loneliness as two sides of the same coin.”

It was the truth, to an extent. You enjoyed the benefits of being independent, but there was a fine line between that and being lonely. 

“It’s a normal human thing to go through,” You shrugged.

It’s how I’ve always been, and it usually keeps me safe. But I can’t believe I just admitted that to another person, let alone Heeseung. Though that’s the whole point of this conversation, isn’t it?

“Um, anyways…“

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel lonely.”

Your eyes flitted to Heeseung’s expression; he seemed cautious yet sincere.

“Don’t be. It’s not your responsibility to make me feel otherwise.”

It was a difficult realization to come to, and as such, you gave a detached response. In due time you’d have to see if he meant everything that he said.

With an inward sigh, you felt disappointment replace the anger that had been slowly filtering out of your system for the past hour. Heeseung was willing to try to be friends, which was more than you could’ve asked for, so deep down, you fought your desire for him. You were being given the chance to take things day by day and come to terms with the reality of your situation. 

“Besides, being lonely is a good skill to have. It’s weird to say out loud, but I really think it is,” You stated, glancing out the window into the dimly lit streets, “It’s useful and easier than most people think.”

When Heeseung said nothing in response, you turned to look at him once more, wanting to hear his voice. 

Something from him, anything.

Instead, you met those dark brown eyes behind his glasses; they contained a mix of something you couldn’t place and a tinge of sadness, but most surprisingly– knowing.

You fidgeted with the hairband on your wrist. “What? What’s wrong?”

Heeseung spoke, “Nothing… What do you mean?” 

His question seemed hollow as if he feigned confusion; his eyes told you everything yet nothing, all at once– like he could see right through you. 

You shook your head, voice coming out as a whisper, “I don’t know… You’re making me nervous again.”

“Sorry,” Heeseung blinked and shifted his eyes elsewhere, and suddenly you felt like you could breathe, but just barely. 

He distractedly removed his glasses to pinch at his nose bridge, and that’s when your breath caught in your chest. 

A slight smile tugged at your lips, “Hey, you look different without your glasses.” You were apt to change the subject.

“Oh, really?” Heeseung moved to adjust them back in place quickly.

“Wait,” you leaned over the table and placed your hand on his to stop him, wanting a better look, “You look really handsome. Not that you don’t with them on, but….”

Heeseung noted how intrigued you looked, the fascination brightening your features. It was certainly a contrast to the way you regarded him just a moment before. “I’ve worn glasses my whole life. I don’t look odd without them?”

“No, but I think you’re cute either way—“ You curiously brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, and his brows rose in surprise. 

Upon realizing what you had done, you promptly sat back in your seat and stuffed your hands in your pockets. 

“I— You just look different,” You tried to cover up your embarrassment with a smile. 

You hadn’t intended on getting touchy, but you just couldn't help it. Then again, he comfortably initiated way more physical contact with you today than he had all semester. 

Heeseung quietly glanced off to the side, and then his eyes were back on you without a moment’s notice, observing.

Ah, there’s that churning sensation in my stomach again.

Even though you could see his eyes clear as day, you couldn’t read him as easily this time.  

“Thanks,” His eyes flitted away as he fixed his glasses back in place.  

Uh-oh. Did I mess up? Did I turn him off by touching his hair? Or with my comments on his appearance?

“We better go, I think they’re closing,” You rubbed your cheek while throwing your backpack over your shoulder, “Thank you for dinner.”

“Sure. Thanks for hearing me out… and for sharing,” Heeseung led you to the door and held it open for you.

His voice sounded odd, almost tight. 

“Yeah...”

It had been a rollercoaster of a day so far; you weren’t sure what kind of note you were going to end it on. 

The brisk night air hit your skin and made you shudder. You turned towards the bus stop across the street, anticipating an arrival soon, “I’m headed over here. I guess I’ll see you in class?” 

When you glanced back over your shoulder, Heeseung was looking after you in such a way that caused you to freeze. His demeanor had shifted from the start of dinner to now like there was a barely tamed intensity about him. He felt unpredictable— he even seemed on edge. 

What was going on? Maybe you really stepped on his toes earlier with your comment about his glasses. It certainly wasn’t your intention; you meant it as a compliment. 

He could’ve been self-conscious about it, you idiot!

Heeseung gave you a curt nod, “Get home safely, okay?” 

You frowned. 

“Okay…” You paused before giving him a quick hug. 

Next to free food and a bit of communication, hugs diffused most escalating situations, right?

But even to you, it felt like a blur; you barely gave him enough time to return it, and then you were slipping out of his grasp just as quickly as you had drawn close. 

“Bye,” You whispered. 

Taken aback, Heeseung dropped his arms to his sides as he watched you jog across the street to board the bus that arrived a moment before and nearly took off without you. 

He inhaled deeply.

Now, his whole body ached. 

Oh, he hated you even more for that.

The cold suddenly seeped into his skin. It hadn’t affected him until you left his side. 

Your bus took off just as his phone faintly vibrated in his pocket. He lost count of how many times it had gone off during his dinner with you, but he hardly paid it any attention. He ignored it for the past two months but couldn’t bring himself to block the number. 

Finally, he decided to answer it. 

“Heeseung! Do you know how many times I’ve called you today? And the day before? Over the past eight fucking weeks? We were supposed to meet–”

“I was at dinner—” Heeseung immediately kicked himself for even sparing an excuse. There was no need to anymore. “Please stop calling me.”

His thumb hovered over the button to hang up and block her number; he should’ve done it earlier. 

“Don’t do this to me, love.”

Anger slithered up his veins, “How else do you expect me to act after all that you’ve done?”

“What you saw wasn’t what it looked like—“

Beep—

That’s what she’d said in the hundreds of voicemails she left, or so he guessed. Listening to one was sufficient. 

From that day on, Heeseung dialed back on the forwardness he displayed in terms of physical contact with you, and you couldn’t figure out why for the life of you. However, your conversations in class were plentiful and on friendlier terms, save for the interesting underlying tension that persisted through his frequent teasing comments and lasting stares. 

That’s not to say there was a complete absence of flirtatious touching, he simply wasn’t as outright with it. But you noted each subtle instance with amusement whether it was a tap on the shoulder, a bump to the knee or an accidental brush of hands when he’d reach for your mouse. 

He seemed somewhat back to normal compared to how you left him that one night, but something definitely changed between you two. 

On the other hand, you soon discovered the breadth of his sense of humor. The off-handed, dry comments he’d whisper about some odd gesture or explanation the professor would make had you snorting in your seat— turns out you weren’t the only one who occasionally got annoyed with the way your professor taught. 

Even so, together, you both managed.

Thai food after class became a routine for you both, a couple of times a week. Ever since Heeseung made an effort to open up, sometimes you’d talk up until the last bus was available for you to catch if he didn’t have work, and other times, you’d work on assignments together.

For every question you asked him, it tickled you that he had one for you of equal measure. These brief moments with Heeseung stood out from your otherwise mundane campus life. Unfortunately, things didn’t always go according to plan.  

One evening, a meeting with your advisor concerning your schedule for next semester ran over time significantly and you were 30 minutes late to your dinner at 01 Thai with Heeseung. 

The frigid air lashed across your face the moment you stepped outside the administration building causing you to wince. It was an evening filled with storm clouds, and the sun had long set; it was starting to get darker earlier in the day. You reached into your pocket to update Heeseung on your whereabouts but let out a frustrated grunt when you realized your phone had died on you. 

Fuck. 

The restaurant was on the complete other side of campus so you decided to cut through a back way that was a bit more obscure but quicker than usual. The first droplets of rain hit your skin before it turned into an outright downpour by the time you were half way across campus. 

Just my luck. 

There weren’t a whole lot of shaded areas along the buildings in the back route you took so you braced yourself through the chill until the droplets began to feel like ice pellets. It was too much so you chose to take shelter when you came upon the first shaded area that came into view near the back exit of a building. 

Something on the floor caught your eye as you quickly approached. A dog with soaked fur was curled up on its stomach and appeared to be breathing irregularly. On instinct, you kneeled down to run your hand over its fur, and it let out a thin whine. 

“Oh, you poor thing. Where’s your owner?”

You felt along its furry chin for a tag and found purchase in a sleek, black collar. However, there was no tag with an owner's contact to be found.

Maybe it’s a high-tech tracking collar? 

With your back against the wall, you slid down to sit for a moment, enduring the mist that the wind blew against you both, cradling the dog close. “I don’t think the rain will let up any time soon… You don’t wanna come with? You just wanna stay here and wait for your owner, huh?”

The dog merely blinked up at you. 

“Alright, then you need this more than I do. Hopefully they’re just around the corner…”

You shrugged off your jacket and used it to dry off the pup a bit before swaddling it in the fabric. After you finished and went to scratch its chin, it licked your palm non-stop.

“You’re welcome,” You stood up with a giggle and readjusted your backpack. Although it was storming, if you let Heeseung wait any longer it would give him the wrong idea. 

You received stares from other students the moment you stepped through the restaurant doors since the single layer of your T-shirt was soaked through. Immediately you crossed your arms over your chest but made a beeline towards Heeseung who sat in the corner. 

He looked you over with concern. 

You couldn’t help but stutter from the cold, “S-sorry. My meeting ran late with my advisor and my phone died—“

“It’s okay, I figured. Weren’t you wearing a jacket in class earlier?”

“I—I may have given it away…”

“To who?”

“To a dog I saw on the way here…?”

You realized how ridiculous it sounded once you said it out loud, but the soft spot you had towards canines made you do silly things from time to time. 

Heeseung raised a brow at that, “Did you just lose it?”

“Sure, I lost it on this awfully cold day, ” You rolled your eyes.

Heeseung shook his head with a snort, and tugged his hoodie over his head, “Well, why don’t you change out of that?”

A chill racked through your body but you brushed it off, until you glanced down to see your shirt plastered to your body and around the prominent outline of your black bra. 

“Um….”

“Here,” Heeseung deposited his hoodie into your arms before you could refuse, “I’ll ask them for a plastic bag to hold your clothing. Your food just came out, so go change.”

“Thanks.”

As you ignored the stares from others occupying the restaurant and clicked the restroom door shut, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror.

There really wasn’t a spot on you that wasn’t damp. You stripped out of your top and bra then proceeded to squeeze them out over the sink before tossing them into a plastic bag. You dried down as much as you could with a wad of paper towels then tugged Heeseung’s hoodie over your head. 

Immediately, you were enveloped by his scent; a light sweetness with new undertones of soft musk you hadn’t detected before. The fabric was still warm against your skin with his body heat which made you feel odd. 

You slowly tugged the collar up to your nose then dropped the fabric abruptly. 

Let’s not make this weird. It certainly beats being cold and wet. 

Heeseung eyed you once you remerged. “I ate already and was about to go looking for you to drop off your food.”

You plopped down across from him. “Yeah, sorry. Do you have to go soon?”

He glanced at his phone screen. “In about 10 minutes, for work. I’ll hang out for a while, though.”

“You don’t wanna work on an assignment while I eat?”

Heeseung pressed his cheek against his palm and leaned onto his elbow, his languid eyes on you, “Mm-mm.”

You stared at him before proceeding to shovel the tasty noodles into your mouth, “Okay.”

Heeseung chuckled, “How’d your meeting go?”

“Fine, I guess. My advisor thought he screwed up and almost made me think I had to take an extra two classes, but we straightened that out. I’m on track, and I’ll have a decent load to finish off next semester since it’s my last.”

Heeseung looked like he was in thought as you shared your schedule with him.

“None of those classes ring a bell.”

That fact bummed you out, more than you’d ever show. “Oh, really? What’s your semester looking like next year?”

“Hm, since it’s my last semester too, I’m thinking of going for an internship, it’s about time.”

You dabbed at your lips with a napkin, “That’s actually really good. I need to do that…”

“It’ll help when you apply for jobs, for sure.”

The impending doom of your future weighed heavily on your shoulders, and Heeseung seemed to notice you suddenly felt burdened. 

“So, you like dogs?”

You glanced up mid-chew, “I do!”

“Did you really give a dog your jacket?” Heeseung squinted. 

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“Maybe the second time around,” He was amused at how you pouted, “What breeds do you like?”

“I like all breeds. The funniest dogs are ones that are like humans. During last thanksgiving there was this one dog at my aunt’s that wouldn’t let me pet him at first. So, I let him be and sat in the living room alone, but every so often he would saunter in and get closer to me every time,” You laughed at the memory, “Then eventually he got so close, I just stuck my hand out and he pressed up against me for pets. Finicky but adorable…”

Heeseung cleared his throat, and wore a sheepish expression, “Sounds like it… You don’t own any dogs?”

“Not yet. I’m saving up and waiting ‘till I’m done with school. I want to be able to give it the attention it deserves.”

“I think that’s smart.”

You sighed, “Yeah… I wish I had one.”

As you finished your food, Heeseung finally said what was truly on his mind. 

“You should be more careful about walking around campus without a working phone. It gets dark faster these days,” He began. 

His scolding caught you off guard. 

“I am cautious, I’m not dumb,” You interrupted, “And I didn’t mean to. I would’ve charged it in the library or something but I didn’t want to keep you waiting—“

“It would’ve been fine if you left me waiting a little longer to do that. It’s such a big campus where anything could happen when you least expect it, so you should always have your phone on,” Heeseung motioned for you to hand over your phone, “And I know you know that.”

You pouted but dropped it into his hand, and he connected it to a portable charger he took out of his backpack, “Alright, mother.”

Heeseung sighed but gave you a small smile anyways. 

“Are you still at your old job or did you start your new one already?” You asked since Heeseung felt at liberty to say what he wanted. 

Heeseung’s eyes turned troubled. “Still there. Just for a little while longer.”

You pressed, “Where do you work?”

Heeseung’s lips parted to answer but he seemed to think better of it. 

“It’s not the greatest place,” Heeseung checked his phone and stood up, “Sorry, I’ve gotta go. See you.”

You bit your tongue. “Won’t you get all wet if you’re walking to work?”

“Uber,” was all he said with a tight smile, “Don’t worry about it. Get home safe.”

Heeseung left you his charger as he stepped outside into the rain, the deep slope of his shoulders inciting a sense of regret in you. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pushed him on the topic when it was clearly sensitive for him. He didn’t deserve your snappy attitude after he expressed his worry for you either… but you knew he wouldn’t hold you to it because that’s the kind of person he was. 

When you weren’t grabbing dinner with Heeseung, there were evenings when you would pour over your studies and meet Rin in the library, like you always had. 

“So, how are your otome games going? On to the next one?” She questioned. 

Oh shit. You’ve been neglecting your pixel husbands basically since the start of the semester—

“I actually haven’t touched any games in a while.”

“Really now?” Rin seemed unsurprised at such a revelation as she continued, “How about that coding class? These days you seem less stressed about it….”

“Yeah, I finally picked up a thing or two. There’s actually this guy who’s been—“

Rin jumped out of her seat and pointed at you accusingly, the screech of her chair drawing annoyed looks from other students. 

“I’ve been fucking waiting for you to bring him up!”

Your eyes widened, “Wait, how do you—”

“Shhhh!” Someone hushed. 

You both put your heads together and dropped your voices to a whisper. 

“How do you know Heeseung?”

Rin explained everything in detail, perhaps too much detail. Figuring out Heeseung consulted her the day you cried in front of him made your face burn. 

Apparently, he hung out enough in the library to recognize Rin as your friend, although you certainly had never seen him while studying. 

“Truthfully, at first, I was mad at the guy for upsetting you; the dude was too honest for his own good and actually told me he was in deep shit with you. I nearly caused a scene in here, but he seemed really apologetic and genuine about wanting to make things right with you. 

So, I told him food was the way to your heart, but I warned him you’d be a little stuck up about paying for yourself. Seriously, you have the weirdest eating schedule just to achieve ‘optimal efficiency’ and avoid ‘brain fog’ or whatever,” Rin grinned. 

Well, she wasn’t wrong. Free food definitely helped on top of everything else Heeseung managed to pull off since then.  

“I appreciate that, but I can’t believe you knew about everything the entire time,” You felt a tad guilty for not looping her in on the situation, having thought she would’ve teased you about it, “And that he actually went out of his way to ask you about me….”

You couldn’t help but look at him a little differently now. He was serious. 

“Well, I only knew what happened up until that day, but you seemed better these past several weeks, so it looks like my advice worked.”

You slid further into your seat and stared up at the ceiling, “Yeah, I suppose it did.”

“I didn’t want to ruin anything, so I stayed quiet. He’s very cute,” She grinned at you.

You paused, “We’re just friends.”

“What? All that drama for a friendship?”

“Hm…”

Rin rose an impeccably plucked brow at you. 

“Yes,” You sighed, patting her head. 

Your friend pouted, “I would’ve guessed otherwise, girl. There’s still time, though.”

Was there?

Soon enough, another month had flown by— finals were around the corner, and both you and Heeseung were typing up code for your class project when you ran into your first distressing issue in a while. 

You called to him without taking your eyes off the screen, “Hey, something’s off, and I can’t figure out what. I swear if it’s just an extra period somewhere, I’m gonna—“

Heeseung was at your side in a heartbeat, “Let me see.”

You scooted your chair over to make room for his, but he got comfortable on the floor. “Stop kneeling. You know you’re gonna permanently fuck up your kneecaps, right?”

“I’m used to it,” He said simply before he froze up as if he had said something wrong. 

Assuming that he was poking at you, you scoffed, “I don’t ask you for help that often anymore, Hee.”

Heeseung cleared his throat and got to work on your code, “No, I know.”

While you waited for him to finish diagnosing the issue, you secretly inhaled his familiar, comforting scent of sweet lavender out of habit.

You saw him smirk out of the corner of your eye. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Seriously, what?”

He shrugged, “You’re doing that thing you do every time I get close.”

Fuck. When did he even– Fuck—

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The tapping of keys halted.

A mischievous lilt made its way into his voice as he faced you, “We’re gonna go that route?” 

“Yes. Yes, we are because you are not going to out me here,” You hissed under your breath. 

“Ha, so you admit that you do take a whiff—“

You took hold of his jaw and forced him to face your computer screen, “Focus.”

Heeseung eyes darkened, but he let out a chuckle. 

You were pressing two fingers to your temple and looking anywhere but at him, so you failed to notice. For the moment, you put aside your pride and stayed quiet until he figured out what the hell was wrong with your project. 

God, how embarrassing. 

A few keyboard and mouse clicks later, and Heeseung was settling back into his seat. “It was an extra period on line 976.”

“Of course it was,” You rolled your eyes and heard him laugh even harder. He was quick to figure out how often he could test your patience…

“Why do you always smell like pastries?” Your sudden question came out as an accusation. 

At this point in your friendship, you found yourself blurting out random things that were on your mind when with Heeseung, and he managed to learn how to go with the flow. 

“I bake in my spare time,” He said, clearly amused. 

You gawked at the new discovery, “I—I guess that explains it….”

“I’ve always baked, it’s sort of just a hobby I never thought to share.”

You swore there was always something to learn about the guy, even at the quick rate that you’d gotten to know him.

“Well, what do you do with all the stuff you make? Keep them all for yourself?” You jabbed at Heeseung.

“No, I just…” His voice quietly tapered off, so you were unable to catch his last words.

“You what?”

“I’ll just give it away to the homeless on the street if I deem it edible,” He muttered. 

“Huh,” You turned to Heeseung, “That’s actually really sweet.”

“It’s nothing,” He pressed his lips together and continued, “By the way, I just started my new job, and my shift is in the evening, so… we’re going to have to postpone Thai nights.”

“Oh. You started your new job finally?” Your heart and stomach dropped; you were so looking forward to it before you’d have to really buckle down for finals, “I guess we’ll have to postpone them. The timing, though….”

Postpone them until when? The two of you had completely different tracks from here on out. Would he even want to hang out with you next semester when there was nothing else to bind your schedules together?

Heeseung leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees, appearing contemplative while watching you cycle through the endless thoughts in your mind.

“I work at this new cafe about ten minutes away from campus. Do you want to drop by and check it out after class? If you want, you could study there until I get off, and then we can have dinner at my place.”

Dinner at his place?

He saw the way your eyes blew up, and he couldn’t tell if it was in shock or excitement. 

“Don’t feel pressured, it was just a thought,” Heeseung brushed off a piece of lint on your knee, his touch lingering, “I get off at around 10:00, so it’d be a later-than-usual dinner.”

“S-sure,” Your voice pitched unusually high, and you nearly threw up in your mouth. 

Geez, calm down! 

Heeseung looked pleased as he stood up from his desk and slung his backpack over his shoulder, “Shall we?”

The moment you stepped foot in the new cafe, your body appreciated the drastic change in temperature inside, the weather was extremely chilly these days. Didn’t change the fact that you’d order something iced, though. 

“Take a look at the menu, I need to get changed, and I’ll be right out to make you something to drink,” Heeseung ushered you further into the store, his hand at your lower back. 

“No problem,” You held Heeseung’s warm gaze and forgot to breathe. 

As Heeseung set off to the back, you exhaled and took in the bright, cozy interior of the cafe along with its high ceilings. Evening light filtered through the tall windows, casting the whole place in warmth. 

What a nice cafe to work at. I could study here more often too.

The aroma of ground coffee beans and sweet pastries filled your nose, causing your brain to perk up at the thought of caffeine even though it was evening. The people that occupied the space were relatively quiet– the seats were mainly filled with a few students and young professionals. 

An empty table was waiting for you in the corner, so you set down your belongings there and pulled out your wallet. Curious about their menu, you returned to the counter to consider the items. 

A handsome, light-haired young man eagerly approached from behind the bar upon seeing you, “Hi there! What can I get for you?”

Your brain raced for an answer even though you were supposed to wait for Heeseung. “Um, I’ll try the iced matcha latte….”

“Perfect,” He gave you a thousand-watt smile, “Anything else I can get you? We have macarons that we bake daily.”

“Sure,” You considered the colorful rows of macarons behind the glass counter, “I’ll try a lavender one and a vanilla bean.”

As the boy picked out your macarons, you imagined how Heeseung might look like working his shift here, from his mannerisms to his barista skills and if he dealt with customers easily or not. It was something you’d never thought of previously since you had no clue about his work.

“I threw in a couple of other popular flavors on the house,” the boy gave you a wink, making you blush unexpectedly.

“Oh, thank you so much!”

The barista took a step to his right without taking his eyes off you and bumped right into Heeseung, who suddenly appeared. You noticed he looked especially cute in his work uniform, somehow fitting your exact image of how a barista would look in his white button-down and his chestnut-colored apron. A smile made its way onto your face; his glasses completed the coffee connoisseur look. 

“Sorry, man—“

“Hey, no worries. I’ll ring her up,” Your eyes widened at the slight insistence in Heeseung’s voice that left no room for argument, “Jake, meet ___.”

“Hey,” Jake gave you a little wave, despite looking a bit confused at why Heeseung intercepted. 

“___, this is my friend Jake. He also goes to our University,” He mentioned while tinkering with the cash register.

You took out your card and gave Jake a shy smile, “Oh, nice. Great to meet you.”

He winked at you, “Likewise.”

Apparently, only hot people work here, you surmised. 

You thought you saw Heeseung pout at the exchange between you and Jake, but whether or not he actually did, he ignored your card and handed over your bag of macarons, swiftly stepping away to prepare your drink.

“Wait, I need to pay—“

“I’ve got you. It’ll just be a few minutes,” he called over his shoulder and got to work.

Your cheeks grew warm. 

Why did he have to act so sweet sometimes?

“I mean, I knew you had a girlfriend, but you should’ve told me she was dropping by,” Jake chuckled as he pulled up by Heeseung’s side.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“She’s not?” Jake questioned. 

“But I’m interested in her,” Heeseung clarified while frothing your matcha latte a bit too aggressively. 

“Aw,” Jake moped, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, “That’s too bad, she’s kinda….”

When it went silent, Jake playfully glanced over at Heeseung, who was staring him down. He slapped him on the back, “Only messing with you, dude.”

“Right.”

Just as you finished unpacking and settling in at the corner table, Heeseung approached with your matcha latte in hand and set it down in front of you. 

“That was quick,” You felt giddy getting the special treatment.

“Give it a try, and let me know if it needs anything.”

You stirred the pretty green liquid with the straw and took a sip, glancing up at Heeseung as you did so. Heeseung bit his lip and tilted his head expectantly.

“It’s perfect.”

“Good, just let me know if you need anything,” He smiled, but before he could leave, you caught his sleeve.

“Wait, have a macaron before you go. Jake gave me a lot,” You randomly chose the dusty pink one that smelled like roses and held it up for him to take.

Instead, he drew close, placing his hand on the back of your chair to steady himself, parted his lips, and waited. You glanced up at him to check if he was joking, but the glimmer in his eye said otherwise.  

Woah—

Brain on autopilot, you fed it to him, and he took a bite out of the fresh macaron.

He licked at his lips and smirked at you, “Thanks.”

After he disappeared behind the counter, you dropped your forehead into your hand, flabbergasted. You just knew your face was so red. 

This crazy ass—

What, did he expect you to finish the remainder of the macaron? 

This was too much for you to handle– Heeseung was too much for you to handle today.

And, of course, you finished it.

Two hours flew by at your table while you were jamming to some nostalgic tunes in your own little world while studying for your upcoming finals. 

Feeling the urge to stretch, you took off your headphones and extended your stiff limbs with a wince.

Condensation ran down your empty glass of matcha, and you had finished nibbling on your macarons earlier. Besides the lavender and vanilla flavors you had chosen, the rose one was pretty aromatic, and the other strawberries and cream flavor Jake picked out for you was delicious. The snacks certainly whet your appetite, and now you were more than looking forward to having dinner with Heeseung… at his place. 

You peered at Heeseung over the top of your laptop as he kept busy behind the espresso bar; Jake was a very charismatic cashier, as you experienced first-hand, while Heeseung was rather efficient at serving up beverages and hopping in to take orders when needed. They seemed to handle themselves well as a team, as far as you could tell from the past couple of hours.

Girls and guys often wandered in to gawk at the two, and you completely understood why. Nonetheless, it didn’t help the surge of discomfort you felt when you caught two girls checking Heeseung out from behind. There was nothing you could do but seethe in your seat.

Relax. They’re not the ones headed home with him tonight. 

Ah, that reminder helped, sort of. 

Now you were feeling antsy about the fact that Heeseung had invited you over in the first place. There was no way you prepared in any way, shape or form with how little heads up he gave you, but you couldn’t have easily passed up the opportunity to get a look at his place and spend more time with him. 

And if he baked, he had to be a good cook, no?

The chatty girls ended up being the last customers to leave the cafe, except for you in the corner, partially anxious but mostly content because you were alone, and so was Heeseung. 

After a quiet period, you were drawn from your studies when a woman who stood out from the average patron strolled into the cafe. She was dressed well enough to convince you that she was a model or at least an influencer of sorts, especially by the confident way she held herself. 

Jake welcomed her warmly, and you were about to slip your headphones back on when you heard her speak, “Hello. Does Heeseung work here?”

“Yeah! Do you want me to get him for you? He’s prepping food in the back.”

“Please.”

Who is she? A friend?

Jake made his way to the back kitchens. “Hey, Heeseung! Someone’s here to see you!”

“One sec,” You heard Heeseung call. 

The woman stood calmly and patiently at the counter; she appeared to be in her mid-twenties and looked sharp in all-black fashion with a set of alluring, shadowy eyes. An uneasy feeling passed through your stomach at the way she suddenly rolled her shoulders and neck— you couldn’t put a finger on it, but if it involved Heeseung, you didn’t like it.

Heeseung emerged from the kitchen doors, and you became deeply concerned at how his face went stoic upon seeing the mysterious woman. Jake sensed something was off as well and looked back and forth between the two. 

“Hi. I hope I caught you at a good time. As you know, I’ve been wanting to chat,” Her tone was overtly sweet. 

Heeseung rounded the counter and approached her, dropping his voice to an inaudible murmur. 

Whispers were exchanged between them; you focused on trying to read their lips, but it was difficult. They were familiar with each other, that much you could tell. However, they couldn’t have looked like more complete opposites. 

Feeling that you were being nosy, you stopped staring and returned to your project at hand, not wanting to overstep any further. 

A sharp slap followed by a harsh clatter resounded in the empty cafe, alerting you.

Shocked, your head whipped towards the source of the noise, only to see Heeseung, whose face was angled away from you. Your sights landed on his glasses on the tile floor.

The woman standing in front of him took an easy breath, but the way she flicked her wrist gave away her rage.

Somehow, you were already standing from your seat, crossing the floor, “Excuse me. Did you just–”

The woman kept her eyes trained on Heeseung, “Mind your own business, love.”

Jake jumped in front of you, waving his hands, “Jesus— Easy, easy. I’ll handle this.” 

Red filled your vision once your brain registered what had happened, but you had enough sense to stand your ground a safe distance away— for that woman’s sake.

“Get her out of here before I do it myself,” you gritted out. 

Jake nodded and was quick to address the woman, “Miss, I’m not sure what’s going on, but you can’t just assault our staff. I’m going to have to ask you to leave immediately due to store policy.”

She eyed you, and her sharp expression slowly morphed into a feigned smile, startling you.

“Just one more thing,” She inclined her chin towards Heeseung, “Then we’ll chat back at my place after you wrap up here, alright, love?”

Heeseung’s gaze flickered at the woman, but he said nothing. 

She sauntered up to him, much too close for anyone’s comfort, and reached out to take hold of his chin, her sharp nails gauging into his skin. Stunned, you watched him shut his eyes tightly, how his brows drew together— and then he caught her wrist before she could get any closer.

Heeseung spoke in an extremely deliberate tone, “No. This is the last time I’ll be saying this to you. We’re finished. We’ve been finished. Do you understand?”

As the woman’s fingers curled into a fist, so did yours. 

“Leave. If I see you bothering any customers or staff who occupy this space, I’ll let the authorities deal with you,” He warned.

“I’ve taken care of you since we were children, Heeseung.”

The statement took you by surprise. 

“We’re done talking,” Heeseung tugged her past you and Jake towards the cafe entrance. She pulled back on his grip, but he remained unfazed. 

The two of you watched him take her outside and proceed to lock up the front of the store. Jake quickly followed and began to pull down the blinds as the woman pressed up against the windows. Her eyes slowly dragged over your form in the most demeaning manner. 

“Talk about a crazy ex,” Jake murmured to no one in particular, pressing his back against the covered window. You exhaled heavily, speechless at the turn of events.

When you bent over to pick up Heeseung’s glasses and inspect them, you noticed a lens had cracked. One could only imagine how much the slap must’ve stung. 

Heeseung touched the small of your back, “I’m really sorry you had to see that.”

Feeling left in the dark, you turned around and gave him a look of confusion, “Exactly how long has it been since you broke up with your ex?”

“Since the start of the semester,” Heeseung answered right away, “This is the first time I’ve seen her since. I don’t know how she found out about my new job.”

“And she still can’t take a hint?” Jake asked while cleaning up behind the register. 

“She will now because I’m not entertaining her games.”

You felt relief, but you immediately regretted the question. 

What a thing for me to ask after everything that just took place, you thought, ashamed. 

“Are you okay?” Your hand was shaky when you reached out to touch his cheek. 

His fingers brushed against the back of your hand in reassurance. 

“I’m fine. I’ll be better once we get out of here and grab something to eat back at my place,” He managed to give you a small smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

[trumanbluee]

the only time i feel i might get better - matty healy

minors dni !! this is 17+ nsfw material !!!

please reblog if you like it! ᡣ𐭩

content: you get sick at matty's and he takes good care of you <3

word count: 4.6k

warnings: mention of vomit, oc is on her period :( , a bad ending, and matty being very very darling.

a/n: hi!! i know i said i wasn't going to post again for a bit but i think this is so cute and its just sitting in my drafts!! enjoy ( and pls reblog if you do! ) :)

She groaned in her sleep, stirring slightly as she felt another cramp tear through her stomach, the ache travelling down into her legs as she tucked them to her chest, brows furrowing at the sudden pain. She hadn’t slept well all night, spending an hour of it with her head in the toilet, Matty holding her hair back and rubbing her back softly, bless his heart. 

Her heart dropped at the thought of him having to see her in that position, retching what little food was in her stomach, up. They were a relatively new couple, having been dating for almost 6 months, and, of course, she’d had her period around him, but she’d never gotten it at his place, and never felt as sick as she did right now around him either. She felt horrible, half from the pain in her slightly puffy, bloated, lower belly, and half from the embarrassment of him seeing her like this. 

Fluttering her eyes open, she saw that Matty’s side of the bed was empty and, upon further inspection with her outstretched hand, he’d been up for a while, the sheets a crisp cold feeling compared to the warmth of her blanket cocoon. She sighed, wondering if he’d been able to go back to sleep at all after the nights events, before her thoughts of uncertainty were interrupted when he tiptoed into the room, obviously under the impression she was asleep, holding a tray of pancakes, orange juice, a cup of coffee, and a vase of fresh flowers. 

He stopped when he turned towards the bed, noticing her eyes peeking out from behind the fluffy duvet, and smiled softly, head tilting to the left as her asked her sweetly, “Morning, baby. Feelin’ any better today?”

This earned him a firm shake of her head as she sat up in the bed, lip pouted slightly to show him her discontent. He cooed, placing the tray of food in front of her on the bed, ensuring the legs of the miniature table were stable before he sat down on the other side of the bed, planting a soft kiss to her temple. 

“Don’t have to eat it all if you don’t want, honey, I just wanted to wake you up with something nice after you had such a horrible night.” He said, sitting cross-legged next to her on the bed. He pointed to two little white tablets that lay next to her orange juice. “Brought you some Panadol too, baby. Make sure you eat at least a little before you take it, don’t want you getting sick again, yeah?”

She nodded, “Thank you so much Matty,” She croaked, throat still sensitive from the acidic bile she’d thrown up in the night, “I’m sorry about last night.”

His eyebrows raised, face scrunching in disbelief as he tried to process what she’d just said. He moved closer to her on the bed, hand coming to rest on her knee above the blanket she’d wrapped herself in. 

“Sorry?” He tutted, shaking his head, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about baby, what'd you mean ‘sorry’?” His lips turned into a slight frown, disheartened at the fact that she felt the need to be sorry about being sick. 

“Ju-Just, you havin’ to stay up with me… I just feel a bit bad that I ruined our night, I guess,” She spoke sheepishly, noticing the disappointed look on his face as she spoke. 

“Oh sweetheart,” He cooed, moving to place the breakfast tray on the floor, before scooting close to her on the bed, pulling her into his chest, one hand rubbing her back in a light rhythm, the other combing through her hair. “You don’t have to say sorry, ‘kay? It’s my job to look after you. Don’t ever apologise for being sick, baby. It happens to everyone.” 

He felt her nod against his chest, and he stopped his fingers carding through her hair as she looked up at him, thinking twice about leaning up to kiss him as she realised she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet this morning.

Almost as if he was reading her mind, he shook his head, laughing to himself softly. 

“Baby, really?” He chuckled, brushing a little bit of sleep from her left eye with the soft pad of his thumb as he did so, “ You wanna kiss me, you can. I think we’re way beyond worrying about morning breath, don’t ya’ think, darlin’?”

She blushed, surprised that he could read her so well, shoving her face into the soft fabric of his white shirt, earning another chuckle from Matty, the sound rumbling in her mind and warming her insides, affecting her probably more than it should have given her in her ill state.

She detached from his chest, fishing the tray of food up off of the floor beside her, and placed it on the bed, before leaning into Matty again, his right arm wrapped around her as she picked at the sweet blueberries that decorated her pancakes.

She sighed contentedly, sipping on her orange juice as she lay, listening to Matty’s steady heartbeat as he sat beside her, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger lazily. She’d be lying if she said that this side of Matty didn’t turn her on, his need to comfort and protect her rising to the surface in a similar way as it did after he’d been particularly rough with her in bed. The idea of him taking care of her a particularly good one in her mind. 

She felt a familiar heat pooling between her thighs as she sat beside him, glancing up at him occasionally as he typed on his phone one-handed, most likely making note of lyrics he’d thought of, his brain constantly moving 100km an hour. She watched as his slender thumb glid smoothly across his screen, pressing the keyboard expertly.

‘This shouldn’t turn me on so much.’ She thought, biting her lip lightly as she shamelessly observed him, now sitting up further in the bed to gain a better view.

She blamed it on her period. Sure, Matty was hot, and, God, she’d fuck him 10 times a day if she had the stamina, lord knows he probably did, but getting turned on by typing? That’s pathetic.

Finally, he saw her out of the corner of his eye, lower lip between her teeth and cheeks a light red as she watched him. He raised an eyebrow, turned his head to face her quizzically.

“What are you looking at?” He smiled at her and she blushed, quickly averting her eyes to the half-eaten pancake in front of her, picking at it delicately.

He laughed softly, “Going shy on me, baby?” he asked, bringing the arm that was wrapped around her shoulder up to her hair, ruffling it playfully, before leaning down to press a firm kiss to her cheek.

She tucked herself deeper into his side, having once again discarded the tray of food onto Matty’s bedroom floor. He wrapped his arm around her once more, giving her a tight squeeze. 

“You okay, honey?” He asked softly, looking down at her as she lay on his chest, tracing her finger softly on the front of his t-shirt, “Feelin’ a bit clingy today? Is that it, huh?”

She nodded, moving impossibly closer to him, wrapping both her legs around his left, her arms wrapping around his bicep, clinging to him like a koala.

He chuckled softly at her, peering at her from the corner of his eye as he watched her cling to him desperately. His attention turned completely towards her however, when he heard a small whimper sound from next to him, at the same time as she’d fidgeted in her spot, causing her sensitive clit to lightly brush the side seam of his sweatpants through her thin sleep-shorts. 

His eyes shot down to her, fearing that she was having the same horrible cramps she experienced in the night. 

“You okay, baby? Tummy hurting again?” He asked, concern evident in his tone.

She was embarrassed, not wanting to admit that the sound was out of pleasure, not pain. So, she nodded, eyebrows creasing together as she looked up at him. 

It was insane how well he could read her. From the second they met, a couple of months before they’d started going out, it was like he could see into her mind and knew almost everything she thought and could anticipate what she was going to say next.

That’s why looking up at him was a huge mistake on her part. He knew as soon as he looked at her he knew that she was lying, and he thought he knew why.

“We’re not lying now, are we sweetheart?” He asked earnestly, looking into her eyes as he spoke. 

“W-what? Why would I lie?” She said, not expecting to be caught out so soon.

He raised his eyebrow at her, expecting her to have admitted her lie, “Oh, okay… so just now, when you wriggled around for a second, and I felt your cunt on my leg, it was just a coincidence that you made that little sound at the same time? Is that right?”

She flushed red, face turning to dig into his arm to hide, embarrassed at being read so easily, once again. She let out a muffled whine, annoyed both his teasing, and her horniness. 

He sat up from the bed, unlatching his arm from her grasp to face her.

“Baby,” He cooed, “want you to use your words when you feel like this, ‘kay? Want you to tell me what you want.” 

She nodded, still covering her flushed face, now with the duvet in place of his bicep.

“I just wanna make sure you’re feeling better after last night, honey. Don’t wanna hurt you or anything, y’know?” 

He looked torn. Torn between his restraint and not wanting to take advantage of her in such a vulnerable state, and his wanting to give her everything she wants on a whim. 

An idea popped into his head, and he stood from the bed, reaching down to peck a quick kiss to her forehead, muttering a ‘be right back’ before exiting the room.

She sat in his bed, awaiting his return as she sipped on the now lukewarm coffee he’d brought her. But it wasn’t very long before he came back, having discarded his shirt and sweats for reasons unbeknownst to her - though she wasn’t complaining, she could spend hours tracing the outlines of his tattoos - especially his ‘We Are Kings tattoo - whether that be with her eyes, fingertips, or tongue.

He walked over to her, boxer shorts hanging low on his hips, and flipped the duvet off her, reaching his hand out for her to take.

“C’mon baby,” He pulled her up, “ran us a bath.” He patted her on the bum softly as he walked past her and out into the hall. She followed dumbly, brain foggy from the tooth-rotting sweetness of their morning in bed together.

Stepping into the bathroom, she saw that not only had he drawn them both a bath, with bubbles in it, which she knew he didn’t like, but had meticulously placed candles around the edge of the bath.

She could’ve cried at the gesture, and she almost did, eyes growing blurry before she blinked the tears away quickly. 

Matty stepped into the bathroom behind her, kissing her on the side of her cheek, then neck, as he reached for the bottom of her (his) shirt, pulling it over her head softly, before tugging her pyjama shorts down. He helped her step into the warm bath, holding his hand out for her to balance on. Once she was in, and he’d made sure the water wasn’t too hot, he tugged his boxers down his legs before stepping into the bath himself, setting himself behind her so her back rested against his chest.

She sighed in content as he brought his large hands up to her shoulders, massaging her upper back soothingly. She leant her head back against his shoulder, Matty retracting his hands from her shoulders to wrap them around her, rubbing her arms up and down soothingly.

He lent down to kiss her on the cheek, instead meeting her lips as she quickly tilted her head to meet him. Meaning for it to be a quick peck, he was surprised when she deepened it, running her tongue along his bottom lip teasingly.

He pulled back, hand resting on her jaw as he guided her lips away. 

He sighed, “Baby… don’t make me be the bad guy,” he frowned, not wanting to tell her a strict no, but also not wanting to hurt her whilst she was in her particularly vulnerable state. 

“Please,” she pleaded, un-slotting her legs from between his beneath the bubbles to squeeze her thighs together desperately. 

He shook his head, shooting her a pleading look, “Honey, I just don’t want you to hurt yourself or to be sick again… I promise, once your period’s done I’ll do whatever you want me to, baby.”

She furrowed her brows in frustration, annoyed at his refusal. Of course, she couldn’t be that annoyed, he was only trying to ensure her comfort and safety, but this didn’t matter in her mind, not when she was this horny. What was she gonna do if he didn’t give in to her? Finger herself to no avail? They both knew that wouldn’t work, and she knew that Matty was the only one who could satiate the need in the pit of her belly.

She spun around in the bath, being careful not to spill any water out of the bath, before pushing away from him slightly to see him better. She huffed, whining “It’s not gonna hurt, promise.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, only now beginning to grasp just how desperate she was, watching as she crossed her legs, heeling digging against her clit harshly, causing her to hiss, wincing slightly at the sensitivity.

She sighed in frustration, pouting slightly as she looked at him with puppy dog eyes. 

“What if– what if I said it would make me feel better? I swear, baby, if it doesn’t feel good I’ll tell you to stop.” She pleaded, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. 

He eyed her carefully, thinking about it carefully. It couldn’t hurt to try, right?

He sighed, lips tugging into a smirk as he finally nodded, ushering for her to resume her previous position, between his legs, back pressed against him. 

He leant down to whisper in her ear, brushing some hair away from her face as he spoke, “Make sure you tell me the second it hurts even a little, okay darlin’?” 

She nodded, leaning her head back against his chest, lingering a soft kiss onto his chin. 

He traced his hands up and down her thighs beneath the water, her legs automatically widening like muscle memory. He laughed breathily in her ear at her eagerness, before sliding his right hand to her core, pressing light circles to her clit as he planted soft kisses along her neck, her having tilted it to the side to grant him further access. 

She moaned softly, bringing a hand up to play with the chocolate curls at the nape of his neck, tugging softly as he began to tease a finger around her entrance, keeping his slow rhythm on her clit. 

“Feel good, honey?” He spoke softly into her ear, not slowing his teasing motions, but not speeding up either. 

She nodded, brows furrowed as he slipped the tip of his index finger inside her. 

“Use your words, baby. Need to hear you say it, ‘kay?”

“F-feels good, Matty, promise.” She stuttered out, his fingers speeding up slightly on her clit for a millisecond, before it returned to its original speed. 

“Good girl,” he murmured in her ear, pushing his index finger into her cunt completely, her head slamming back to meet his chest as he curled it expertly.

Her hand that wasn’t occupied with Matty’s hair emerged from the water, where it had been gripping her thigh, and she placed it on her left boob, swiping her thumb over her nipple delicately and squeezing the soft, meaty flesh around it. 

She arched her back as Matty prodded a second finger into her, curling it as he had the first. As she arched further into his chest, she felt Matty’s hard cock against her back, and teasingly wriggled against it.

He groaned, fingers speeding up as they fucked in and out of her, his hand that was rubbing her clit now came up to brush her hair out of her face, before he flicked her right nipple playfully, ripping a guttural sound from the back of her throat as he returned his hand to her clit, rubbing fast circles over it with his middle and ring finger. 

He felt her cunt tighten around his fingers, thighs slamming together to stop his hands from retracting. 

He pressed his plush, pink, lips to her ear, pressing airy kisses along it as he breathed, “Gonna cum for me, baby? Yeah?” He felt her become impossibly right around his fingers, and she moaned loudly as he said, “Gonna feel so much better afterwards, baby. C’mon, give it to me.”

Matty fingers stilled inside her as she came, eyes squeezing closed and toes curling as the water in the bath sloshed around them, her loud moan echoing around the bathroom. He waited for her breathing to settle slightly before slowly pulling his fingers out, the water in the bath cleaning them off. 

She flipped herself over carefully, legs wobbling slightly  as she straddled his right leg, her boobs planted flat against his chest. She reached up, planting a soft kiss to his lips, whining softly against them as her clit grazed his leg when she pushed herself up. 

Pulling away from her lips, Matty tutted in faux annoyance, rolling his eyes playfully.

“Still not done, baby?” He asked, smoothing his hand over her hair and then resting it on her cheek as she looked up at him,

“No,” she confirmed, half-mooned, lidded eyes peering up at him. 

He sighed, “What am I gonna do with you, huh?” He asked playfully, “Too horny for your own good.” 

She whined as she shifted herself further up his body, his rock hard cock laying flat against her slit as it rested on his stomach. He lay back against the steeper end of the bath, hands on both hips, thumbs drawing shapes on her delicate skin. 

She wriggled her hips slightly, his cock bumping over her clit multiple times before she rose to her knees, almost slipping on the slippery bottom of the bath, luckily being caught by Matty’s large hands on her hips again. 

She laughed softly, looking up at him as she did so, seeing him biting his lip softly to keep in his laugh, the rumbling of his chest betraying him. She slapped his stomach playfully. 

“Hey!” She scolded, “Don’t laugh at me,” She said with a fake pout on her face. 

Matty cooed, laughter still rumbling in his chest as he spoke, “Aw, sorry honey, it's just, when I said I didn’t want you to get hurt, I didn’t mean slipping over in the bath and dying.” He giggled as he spoke, and she couldn’t help but grin at him, pouncing onto him to plant a sweet kiss to his lips, before pulling away.

Her brows furrowed and index finger pointed at him as she reprimanded him, trying her best to keep her face straight as she spoke, “Okay! No more laughing,” Her eyes narrowed at him accusingly, “back to sex.” 

He nodded stiffly, hand coming up to his head as he saluted her militarily, firmly repeating her previous statement. 

She giggled softly, lifting her leg up with help from Matty, before shifting herself on top of him completely, his hard cock trapped between her sticky cunt and his firm belly. She groaned as she rocked back and forth slowly, before pushing herself up slightly, grabbing the base of his cock, tapping it on her clit a few times before she pushed it into herself, sighing in content as she sunk down, the full feeling in her tummy satiating the desire she’d been holding there all day. 

He groaned softly, brows knitting together as she sunk all the way down onto his cock, her clit brushing against the groomed pubic hair at the base. His hands rested on her hips, rubbing shapes softly as he helped guide her up and down on his length. She was so tight around him, clamping down hard when he moved a hand from her hip down to rub her tender, puffy clit.

She moaned breathily, back arched and head thrown back as she bounced on his cock rapidly, water splashing around the bath and onto the floor. Her right hand rested on Matty’s ��We are Kings’ tattoo, providing her with leverage to move quicker, and her left hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, nails digging into his Mortal Kombat tattoo as her orgasm approached her. 

Matty felt her hips faltering slightly, and her thighs began to shake, causing him to tighten his grip on her hips, holding her still as he slammed his hips up to meet hers. She whined loudly, his thick cock filling her completely, slamming against her cervix with every unyielding thrust. 

“Feelin’ good, baby? He asked breathily, panting slightly, his curls falling in his face, sticking to his slightly damp forehead.

She responded the only way she could through her foggy, fucked-out brain, squeezing his forearm impossibly tight and keening loudly, before her mouth fell open in a silent scream. 

He continued his relentless pace, bringing them both closer and closer to cumming. His brows knitted together in concentration as he tried to keep his pace consistent, but he was struggling. She was so fucking tight, squeezing him like she was afraid that if she didn’t, he’d somehow disappear. 

Thankfully, he could tell she was close, her lower lip pulled between her teeth and cheeks rosy, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t had to hold his orgasm since the second he’d slipped into her. Something about his cock and her cunt fit so right, he could probably cum just at the thought of it. 

Matty looked up at her through the mess of wet curls in front of his eyes, “Need you to rub your clit for me now, ‘kay honey?”. 

She immediately obeyed, bringing the hand that was wrapped around his wrist to rub her clit at a harsh pace. She cried out, hand faltering slightly at the intense pressure building in her lower belly. 

She was so close, she just needed something, anything, to push her over the edge, and almost as though Matty read her mind, he leaned forward, attaching his mouth to her left breast, swirling his tongue around and biting lightly at her perked up nipple. 

The hand rubbing her clit and rapid hip movements halted as she felt Matty, whose head now rested on her shoulder, still inside her, groaning loudly as he came inside her, rope after rope of his sticky cum coating her walls. She wailed, eyes rolling back into her head as the tightness in her stomach finally released. She leaned forward to bite Matty’s shoulder softly, tears streaming down her cheeks at the intensity of both her orgasms. 

She slipped her arms out from between their chests, wrapping them tightly around Matty’s neck before pressing her head into his neck, sighing contently. 

Matty smiled softly against her, lifting the hand that still rested on her left hip to rub her back gently. 

“Water’s gone all cold, sweetheart,” He said, slightly muffled by the delicate skin of her shoulder.

She shrugged lazily in his arms, murmuring back a sweet, “M’cozy.”

“Y’cosy?” He bit back a soft laugh at her lovely voice, “Not gonna be so ‘cosy’ when you get a cold, honey.” He continued rubbing her back, cooing inwardly when he heart a soft sniffle beneath him. 

“How ‘bout this, baby, let me get out, and I’ll go get your clothes, get you nice and dry, and then we can go back to this exact position in my bed… That sound good?”

She nodded weakly against his chest, and that's exactly what they did. Quickly pulling on a new pair of sweats, he remembered he’d laid out some boxers and an old sweatshirt of his on the bed before he’d gotten in the bath, and he was particularly grateful for it now, grabbing the pile off the bed, and a towel warmed from the dryer, before speed-walking back to the bathroom. He knocked softly before walking in, wanting to be safer than sorry, and heard a soft hum from behind the door. A sign to enter, he assumed. 

Walking in, he saw that she was still in the exact position he’d left her in, knees tucked to her chest, with her chin rested against her knees. He cooed, putting her new clothes on the basin before helping her stand in the bath, opening the warm towel and wrapping it around her body, her hands poking out to keep it wrapped around herself as he scooped her up, setting her down to sit on the lid of the toilet. 

Grabbing the clothes off the basin, he slipped the soft grey sweater over her head, and pulled his boxers up her legs, pressing a kiss to her forehead once she was dressed. 

She murmured a ‘thank you’, to which he responded by kissing her again, this time on her lips, before picking her up again, placing a hand on her left knee, pushing it to wrap around his waist, before doing the same to her right. 

Keeping her steady with a hand on her bum, he walked the few steps to his bed as quickly as possible. He held her up with one hand as he used the other to pull back the covers, before carefully crawling into the bed, being sure not to disturbed her comfort in his arms as he did so. 

Wrapping the soft duvet around the both of them, he looked down at her to see her smiling up at him. He beamed back at her, dimples visible in his cheeks, before leaning down to press a soft kiss to her puffy lips. 

She sighed in content, pulling away from the kiss and resting her head on his shoulder again, nose nuzzling against the soft skin of his neck. He smiled to himself, before picking up his phone from the bedside table, checking his notifications quickly before he opened Instagram, scrolling aimlessly through his reels. He swiped upon a particularly funny minions meme, pushing air out of his nostrils in a half-laugh, before angling his phone down to show her. He looked down to watch her reaction, his favourite thing in the world being to see her laugh - it was automatically a great day for him whenever he was the one to coax a giggle from her - but instead saw she was asleep, lips parted slightly, and eyebrows relaxed. 

He smiled fondly down at her, using the arm she was laying on to rub soothingly up and down her arm. He clicked ‘Save’ on the meme, telling himself to remember to show her later, before he opened Safari, logging into Twitter, or ‘X’ now, - ‘so fucking stupid’ he thought - looking to see what fans had to say about their new show, ‘Still… at their very best.’

©trumanbluee - reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! but i do not wish for my work to be republished, translated, or copied. thanks!

[futfemfantasies]

The one \\ alanna kennedy x reader

Nothing but pure Alanna fluff with the mention of an injury (no details)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Picking up an ankle injury in your last game was a blessing and a curse. A blessing as the physios, doctors and Jonas allowed you to stay in Manchester for your recovery period with the occasional drop in to the training facility. It also meant you get to spend 5 weeks with your fellow Australian teammate and love of your life, Alanna. As soon as you said the Arsenal team allowed you to stay in Manchester, the blonde was out the door and driving 3 hours to pick you up.

Hobbling around your room to put clothes in a duffle bag took longer than expected. You feel strong arms circle around your waist and soft kisses on peppering your neck. After recovering from you mini heart attack, you turn and hug Alanna tightly. 6 weeks apart is too long. You look up at Alanna's lips and waste no time smashing your lips on her as her hands grip your waist.

"As much as I love doing that my love, let's get you packed so we can go home"

Home.

With your contract is expiring at the end of the season, you've had several teams from various leagues reach out. One club stood out over all the Barcelona's and Gotham FC's. Manchester City. It's a no brainer and since mentioning it to Alanna, she;s been calling Manchester home and London a holiday. A decision has to be made by the end of the month and as you look into Alanna's eyes, you know your decision.

"Go sit your cute butt on the bed while I pack the rest of your bag"

You hobble over to the bed and rest against the headboard as Alanna put pillow under your moon boot. Seeing Alanna dance around your room sparks something in you.

"Lani?"

"Hmm?" Alanna turns to see you pat the small space on the bed next to you. She sits down and you hold her hands.

"I've made up my mind. I'm moving to Manchester baby"

"You're kidding? Baby that's amazing news" Alanna hugs you tightly and kisses all over your face, making you giggle with happiness.

"Let's get you packed so we can go to our home together"

After a few more outfits get packed, Alanna helps you down the stairs and into her car. Zooming down the street, Alanna's hand holds yours and you sigh in content of how perfect this is going to be. Alanna pulls up to the apartment complex carpark and she quickly gets your bags out, before helping you out of the car. She holds your hand through the short elevator ride and then you both arrive at the familiar apartment door.

"Home sweet home baby girl"

3 weeks in to your recovery and you have just finished your stretches and mobility exercises so you decide to watch a romance movie to pass the time until Alanna comes home. Halfway through, Alanna comes home and flops on top of you (mindful of the ankle). She leans up and pucks her lips, silently asking for a kiss. You bend slightly and give her multiple before Alanna cups your cheeks with her big hands and stares at you ever so softly and lovingly.

"You're the one. You're the one I want everything with, good, bad and everything in between"

Your eyes are brimming with tears as you take in what Alanna had just said.

"You're it for me Lani. You're stuck with me for good"

"There's no one else I'd rather be stuck with my girl"

[inthefallofasparrow]

CORRESPONDENCE 1031 – THIRD QUADRANT 6 > NEVADA CENTRAL DISPATCH ~092338 RE: ASSESSMENT REPORT - Officer Yuki de Witt

OFFICER’S NOTES: 3Q6 is one of the more efficient quadrants within the Mining Division. All of Sectors 5 through 9 have consistently run at full or double quota for the last season. CIRCUMSTANTIAL: Successful liaison with 3Q6 Board of Captains (Cpt. SPIEGEL, absent) regarding the sudden death of Unit 23 Cpt. SILTSMEAR from 4Q6. Decision pending. Further info required. INCIDENT REPORT: n/a WORKER MORALE: Moderate

~RESPONSE: Received (211)

DIGGING CORPS - LOG 081/- Hey. I know you’ll never read this, but I guess I don’t need you to. Was only supposed to stay a few days, write up my assessment for Dispatch and then leave, but then one of the captains in a neighboring quadrant fucking died. Nothing nefarious mind you, just dust pneumonia. Certainly, more paperwork than it was worth. Sounds like a lot of weird shit’s been going on over there, so one of the captains went over to assist with the transitional period, and I agreed to stay here at Third Q6 to cover until he could be replaced. That was over a month ago now, and I miss the fucking sun! Never thought I’d say that. Had a few reservations about being stuck underground this long as the only woman for miles in any direction, but so far, apart from the odd leer in the mess hall, I have remained “unharassed”. The worst of it would be one particularly cantankerous geezer called Ira Trask, Foreman of 9C, who insisted on addressing me by my first name until I referred him to the NCD handbook on worksite professionalism, and he relented. I assumed he just wanted to be friendly so I'd help get him promoted, but now I think it was something deeper, more sad and nostalgic. There’s a lock on my door at least, and being exceptionally tall seems to give them second thoughts. But as you’d imagine, height’s not generally an advantage in tight, enclosed spaces with low ceilings. Most shovelmen develop a stooped physique during their time in the corps. Fucked if I’m gonna stay that long.

Yuk

DIGGING CORPS – LOG 94/- Decided if I have to be stuck down here in Satan’s ass crack, twiddling my thumbs, I might as well spend the time processing some individual Worker Profiles. The shovelmen generally alternate between reticent, awkward, sullen or befuddled by the concept of being personally assessed, but if me doing their interview gets them a few minutes to slack off their shifts, they’re happy enough for the distraction. Foreman Trask is displeased by the interruption, but he is welcome to sit on it.

Names seem to be taboo here. I know all the workers’ names of course, because it’s on their file, but that really freaks them out and there’s no point in using them. Share anything of your backstory with your fellow shovelmen, anything that they can tie back to you, and that’s a power they now hold over you. It's like some kind of deep occult shit, but for fucking miners. Everyone gets a new name here, bestowed upon you by your peers. And you only get that so you can tell whose shovel you’re holding.

Met a greenie from Unit 9A named Theodore today. The others call him ‘Mouse’ which he seems to prefer. Whether it’s for his demeanor, his silky brown hair, or, I don’t know, maybe he just likes cheese, he won’t answer to anything else despite having only been here two months. I asked him and a few others what they knew about the late Captain from 4Q6. Common sentiment seems to be that he was mad as a balloon.

Yuk

DIGGING CORPS - LOG 113/- Had a dream about the swing mom never built us. The big tire swing that wasn’t in the apple orchard. I know you don’t remember it, because, well, it never existed, but I feel like I’ve mentioned it before. Anyway, in the dream, I was swinging in the orchard at night time. And the sky was so pitch black, because there weren’t any stars at all. Just a void. Like, the dream was set after the sun had just died, and there was nothing left. Or maybe it wasn’t night. Maybe the orchard was inside a cave. It doesn’t matter. So, the swing was just a regular car tire, but then as I swung higher, I looked down and it was suddenly bigger. Stretching out to the size of a tractor tire. Or something off a monster truck. Then, I swung higher, and the tire grew again, too big for any actual vehicle, and now I could easily fit inside the trough of the tire itself and lie in it like a big hammock. But I couldn’t do that, because the trough was full of apples. Hundreds of these squishy brown apples in various states of decay. And the apples were growing too. Larger and larger, bustling and toppling over each other until they were the size of bowling balls, and then beach balls, and I was sort of half-drowning, half-swimming in these apples. And then I realized. They weren’t growing. I was shrinking. So, I climbed inside of an apple where the pip should be, because I knew deep down that was the logical place to go to die, and then I woke up. I’m pretty sure I know what it means, even if you don’t.

Yuk

DIGGING CORPS – LOG 115/- Random insights gleaned from Unit 9 Review a.k.a. ‘Operation: Peanut Gallery’:

Shovelman ‘Wiles’ - Appears to be the closest thing Sector 9 has to a medic. At least, he says he knows how to saw a man’s leg off without killing him, which is good enough here apparently. I didn’t ask for specifics. There is a constant film of dust covering his glasses, which he seems unaware of.

Shovelman ‘Twoshort���- Tried to convince me it’s common practice for the men to eat handfuls of dirt as a snack, given it’s more nutritious than whatever they were being served in the mess hall. I offered to immediately lodge a formal complaint with Captain Spiegel and the Food Prep team on his behalf, and he backpedaled comically fast, and then tripped on his way out because his foot was asleep.

Shovelman ‘Basher’ – Built like a shuttle truck and functionally deaf after an incident with a stick of dynamite last year. Uses a form of abridged sign language that he and a few others in his unit invented specifically for him. Extremely introverted at first until Wiles came to interpret for me, then he wouldn't shut up.

Shovelman ‘Blessed’ - Recently discovered an injured bat, which he has taken it upon himself to nurse back to health against NCD regulation 58N. He also appears to be deathly allergic to said bat, as his face and hands had swollen incredibly within minutes of handling the thing. A persistent sneezing has overtaken him, but apparently that’s normal and unrelated to the bat. Also allergic to dirt?

Regardless, get me the fuck out of here. Yuk

[alonetimelover]

"I can't stop thinking of you" for Harry maybe?

Also, your writing is really so so great🫶

"I can't stop thinking of you."

pairing: Harry Styles x booktuber!reader

summary: YN and Harry had loved each other for months. The thing was, none of them was brave enough to admit it. So what happened when Harry found the courage and YN made a mistake the night before?

word count: ~1,4k

warnings: mentions of sex (nothing explicit), angst!, heartbreak, and some feels from Harry

a/n: Thank you so much for requesting and your lovely words!

blurb weekend prompts blurb#1

booktuber!reader: part 1 part 2

Well, YN never was good with dealing with her emotions. There were always two options: run from it or make a decision that you’d regret the next day. She tried to take option one all the time, but making mistakes was engraved in her life story (like in anybody else’s). Lately, or should it be said, yesterday, she made a mistake she felt was going to ruin her most valuable relationship - her friendship with Harry. 

“YN, please. Don’t tell me you went home with him,” her best friend screamed into the phone. 

YN looked over her shoulder, gazing at the man sleeping in her bed. The duvet was placed over his lower body, exposing his muscular back painted with black tattoos. His curly hair was splayed across one of her least favourite cushions, creating a brown nest. In a good way. 

“And what if I did?”

“Did you look at him even once last night?!”

She moved out of the bedroom, closing the door after herself, so as to not disturb the sleeping man. 

“Of course I did,” she scoffed. 

“So you know what you did.”

YN sighed into her phone. Of course, she knew what she did.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

YN moved around the kitchen taking things out of the cabinets and fridge to make some breakfast. She started her newly bought express, needing some caffeine. If she was going to get through this phone call, she needed as much help as she could get. Well, then she would need to face the man from the bedroom, but it was a task for a ‘future her’. 

“You slept with Harry’s doppelganger!”

Right. In her bed was a sleeping 6 feet tall man with darkish brown hair and tattoos almost all over his body. In the club last night, she couldn’t distinguish more details than those, but she needed something, someone to help her forget him. The appearance closer to someone she was attracted to was just a plus. 

When the lights were illuminating the man's face she knew how ironic it all was. His cheekbones were high and sharp just as his jawline perfectly accented. The dimples deep into his cheeks whenever he was sending her that white smile. And those green eyes. Right there, she deep down knew he wasn’t there to help her forget about Harry. No. He was there to somehow be him, to make her feel as if he could ever be hers.

“They look nothing alike,” YN lied, sipping her coffee, cursing after burning her tongue. “Fuck.”

“You’re either blind or delusional. I don’t know what to tell you.”

“You’re very supportive, babe.”

“I’m not going to support whatever you’re trying to do. It’s a mistake, YN. Trust me.”

“How do you know?” She raised her voice. “Maybe it’s good for me. I slept with him, it was great. And now I can forget about Harry and move on with my life.”

“You can forget about Harry?”

“Easy. Done.” 

YN placed the coffee mug on the counter with a thud, spilling half of it. She really was over the talk. She decided to have sex with that man, and she did. She didn’t regret it and didn’t lie about it being great. The man, Henry (yes, she knew fate was really messing with her) treated her right. She had a very good night. It was all about the consequences. She didn’t want them to become clean. And all the talk she was having was writing those mistakes with black ink on paper. 

“Is it? Is it that easy to forget about the man you’ve been in love with for months?”

There it was, period on paper. 

And before she could answer anything, there was a sound of knocking echoing through her flat. 

“I need to go. Someone’s at the door. Can we please meet up today?”

“Of course. My place at 5. You bring wine, I make dinner.”

“Okay. Love you, bye.”

After hearing the good bye back, YN moved across the room and towards the door. After unlocking it, having made sure that her bathrobe was covering everything it could, she opened the door. 

Fuck you, fate. 

“YN.”

“Ha- Harry. Hi. Uhm, what are you doing here?”

Now, she felt even more exposed. Couldn’t it be her noisy neighbour or the courier with the delivery she had been waiting for for days? 

“Well,” he started slowly, immediately halting in thought for a moment. “I don’t really know. Can I come in?”

“It’s really not the best time.”

Puzzles had been slowly being put together in his brain. After waking up today and seeing YN’s post on instagram he felt part of his heart breaking. He covered his feelings for her deep inside, praying for them to never come up. He put on the role of a best friend and was proud of it. He could never jeopardise that friendship. YN was somebody that he knew his soul was searching for. 

“I just need a few minutes.” 

“Maybe during lunch? At that bistro you’d talked about?”

“YN, please.” 

He knew that if he didn’t say anything right now, he’d never do it. When the courage was still in his veins, he had to use it. Whatever would follow, that would be his fate. 

“I can’t stop thinking of you. You’re in my mind when I wake up, looking up at the ceiling you sprayed with that wine, thinking that I should really paint it. You’re in my mind when I make breakfast, because of that time when we were doing it together and you got the email about your grandad’s shop being sold to you. It always makes me smile, thinking how happy you were at that moment. You’re in my mind when I’m driving down to Chesire, pointing out all the yellow doors you were so infatuated by, when you drove to mum’s with me. You’re in my mind when I fall asleep, remembering how many times I held you in my arms and felt whole. And- and I can’t do any of those without thinking of you. You’re engraved in my mind. In my heart.”

Harry took a deep breath and finally looked at YN. Her eyes were glossy, looking at him with that look he could never distinguish and put in any category. The one thing he admitted to not know about her - that look. 

Through his whole monologue she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. She was in his mind. She was something that he couldn’t possibly forget. She was his. And that feeling, that love for him was beaming from her eyes. The look of love. 

“Harry, I-”

“You don’t need to say anything, really.” He started rambling, somehow embarrassed that he had let himself out like that. “You don’t need to say that you feel the same way. I can deal with rejection. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn't have come.”

“No. Stay,” she said immediately, reaching for his hand. 

She felt the electricity going through Harry’s palm to hers and straight to her heart. She looked into his eyes, searching for any grain of doubt in his feelings, finding none. 

“Harry, I can’t express how long I’ve been waiting to tell you this.” She laughed, not believing that she was going to admit everything. “I lo-”

“YN?” 

Harry’s eyes moved from YN’s, landing at the source of the interruption. His hopeful eyes lost the spark in milliseconds. His smile faded and the grip of his fingers on hers, loosen. He was a fool, believing that she could feel the same. He felt betrayed. Even more when the stranger turned around and locked his eyes with Harry. 

Harry took a step back, diverting his eyes from the man and then back to YN. Puzzles were tossed on the ground and with each second stepped on, losing colour and making the outlines unreadable. 

YN looked over her shoulder, seeing Henry standing near her couch in nothing but his underwear. She wanted to think that ‘it couldn’t be happening right now’, but she knew better. The decisions she had made yesterday and regretted, backfired on her. The decision, which just now, was costing her the friendship she was so protective of. The love she was so afraid to fall into. It all was drifting away. 

“Harry,” YN whispered, trying to find the words to explain the situation. 

“It’s okay.” Words, like venom, were sipping out of his tongue. Even Harry didn’t like the way it sounded or the tone he used. “No need to explain. I think you have someone to get back to. Have a good day, YN.” 

And just like that he was gone. And so were their hopes that it all could have turned out the way they dreamed about. 

Fate really was heartless.

[callofdudes]

Call it your own what if bestie ☺️☺️

An alternate reality where Tommy, Beth and Joseph are still alive. Simon invites y/n back to Manchester to visit them and a huge amount of chaos unfolds between the two

I really really enjoy making this au with you @itsscromp and it's given me a bazillion and one ideas for it. It's kind of funny how in the reboot I imagine Simon and Tommy's complexions switcheroo-d. You've sucked me in, I was listening to Billie while I wrote this periodically.

Summary: When Joseph's birthday comes up, Simon takes leave to head home and spend time with them. With him, comes y/n with nothing better to do, looking to meet the family.

Riley family functions.

Simon didn’t speak about his family much. It was a private matter close to his heart, and after so many rough years he wasn’t ready to share that with the world. He'd been putting things back together with his brother, and for once in his life, things seemed to be working out in his favor.  

Meeting you had changed something in him. When he was changed to 141 his barrier started to deplete just enough that you could wiggle your way into a friendship with the brute. And Simon wasn’t bad. Everyone feared him but the bravado he showed the world wasn’t what those closest to him saw. 

You’d been his friend for a while, and Simon had never mentioned his family. Hell, you didn’t know if he even had a family. Given his whole identity and government shtick you almost assumed not. 

Simon was in his little world, however. His nephew’s birthday was coming up and he’d promised Tommy he’d be there. So, he took his 30 days and before long started to pack. And that’s when you saw him. 

“Where are you going, Lt?” 

He grunted half-heartedly. “Not your business.” He zipped up his suitcase and pondered over what he might get Joseph. The little guy already had toys, and he wasn’t that old. A couple of years? It had been a while admittedly. Maybe he was 6 by now?? 

“Oh, come on. Don’t want to tell your buddy where you’re going??” You walked over and looked over what he was packing. Clothes, snacks? Paperwork?  

“Ghost, where are you going?” 

“Already answered you.” He grunted. You gave him a look as he left his room after packing up. You crossed your arms, and in his mind, Simon heard Beth chiding him for not being open with his friend. He could imagine her saying, “Invite your friend, I’m sure they’d love to hang out with you, and Joseph can get some more social time.” 

“You’re not going to stop bugging me, are you?” 

You considered and then shook your head. “Nuh uh.” 

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Going back to my family for the month. Nephew’s birthday is coming up. They want me there.” 

“Aw, you have a nephew??” You smiled, already walking faster to keep up with him. “How old is he?” 

Simon shrugged. “Five, maybe six? But that’s givin’ the kid credit.”  

You chuckled softly as you followed along. “So, you like your nephew??” You smirked upon seeing the little glint of warmth in his otherwise unresponsive irises. 

“Yeah, I guess so.” He stopped and turned to you, catching you off guard with your stride. “Let me guess…” 

“I’d love to meet your family; I could use a break.” You smiled. “If that isn’t too forward.” 

He considered this, shifting back and forth from foot to foot. And eventually, he relented. “If your shit isn’t packed by tomorrow don’t bother coming.” 

You smiled wide. “Right away lieutenant.” You winked and headed off. 

A couple days later, Ghost found himself squished on a plane with you. His legs tucked in; his arms folded awkwardly as his elbows pressed into the hard armrest. 

You were curled up similarly, Simon never spent enough money on these dumb flights to get him comfortably from base to Manchester.  

“So, what are they like??” You asked to try and pass the time, turning to him. 

Simon grumbled and shifted again. “They’re fine. Nephew’s a little ball of energy. Can never get that kid to relax. Beth, my brother’s wife is… Strong-willed. If you could put it that way.” 

“Oh?? Strong, is she?” 

He raised his eyebrows. “That’s an understatement. Not mean, but not afraid to call bullshit in her house.” 

You nodded. An awkward moment passed between you, and then you frowned. “What... what about your brother??” 

Simon was quiet throughout the flight. “He’s not bad. Can be an asshole, like every older brother.” 

“Oh, so he’s older?” 

Simon huffed. Seemingly annoyed he got stuck with the role of the younger sibling. Forced to live life vicariously through his brother. 

“Yes…” 

“Well, they sound very nice, it’ll be nice to meet them.” You reassured him. Simon didn’t talk about his family for the rest of the flight until the plane landed. You grabbed your bags from the terminal at the airport and headed to your cab. 

 Manchester was dark and gloomy by this point in the evening. Rain started to flick down on the windows and drip down from the rooftops. 

You looked around, taking in some of the features of gloomy Manchester. The drive was quiet, the sound of the rain and the tires was the only noise between you both.  

Finally, Simon lifted his head upon reaching a pale blue house, light pouring out from the window, soft white curtains fogging up any inside activities. The railing looked somewhat old, wrapped in Christmas lights that hadn’t been taken down yet. 

“Is this it? It looks nice.” You spoke. 

“Yeah, it is.” Simon paid the driver and got out into the rain. The pour got harder as you two flipped the trunk and got your bags.  

“Lovely weather!” You said over the rain, seeing the wet cat look on Simon’s face. “Bloody hell.” He remembered times when Tommy would lock the house after he got home from school so Simon would have to sit out in the pouring rain until their father came home. 

He walked up the wet steps, seeing the lilacs were growing nice. He stood at the door and knocked heavily after a moment of hesitation.  

“Coming!” There was a call from inside, someone rushing to the door. A woman opened the door, looking around the same age as Simon. She smiled upon seeing the younger man, “Simon! Oh, my goodness, come in out of the rain.” Her chest-length hair tied back into a messy bun, a few strands falling into her face. 

“Oh, and your friend, I assume?” 

“Y/n. Yes. A friend.” Simon came in out of the rain, and you followed. Beth led the two of you into the house and instructed Simon where to put his bags for the time.  

“Come in, get comfy. Tea? Coffee?” She turned back to you two with a polite, yet warm smile. 

“Coffee please.” You spoke up, “Thank you.” 

“Of course. Simon, I’m making you a London fog.”  

Simon opened his mouth to speak before waving his hand with a curt dismissal. “Sure, fine. Do whatever the hell you want.” 

You chuckled and sat on the couch. “This is nice.” You looked around once comfortable. The carpet was nice, and they had some decorations up. The house smelled of cinnamon and scented candles were set up in the kitchen. The soft beige color of the walls feels simple but not out of place, making it a warm atmosphere. Toys were scattered around the room where the Christmas tree was in the corner. 

“Why is that bloody thing still up?” Simon grumbled.  

“Maybe they haven’t had time to take it down?” You whispered to him, gently hitting his side. “Ease up.” 

Simon huffed softly and crossed his arms. Beth hummed gently as she made drinks. “Thomas! Simon is here!” She called.  

Simon’s thumb dug into his bicep; arms firmly crossed over his chest. He tried to ease the twist and pound inside his chest.  

“Comin!” A voice called back. 

Tommy wandered down the stairs, a little one clinging onto his pant leg. Tommy looked over at Simon and smiled a little. “Hey, you made it ok?” 

“Hello, we did.” 

Tommy looked toward you. “Oh?”  

“Oh, y/n” You smiled, quickly rushing to introduce yourself. “Thomas. I see you’ve met my less handsome half.” 

“Fuck off.” 

“Don’t use that language around Joseph.” The two tossed words back like a mental game of ping pong. Passing off ideas to see how comfortable they could get invading each other’s space. But that was brothers, already poking each other's buttons as much as they could. 

While they did, you smiled at the small boy clinging onto his dad. He peered over, looking at you. 

You waved softly, but that only prompted him to hide more. 

Beth returned with tea, giving Simon his London Fog, and your coffee. The mugs were warm and decorated with sayings like ‘best mom’ and ‘I wear this expression to work’.  

“Here you are.” 

“Thank you.” You brought your lips to the cup, hovering over the warm drink, blowing over the cup gently. 

Tommy sat in the seat across from you and Simon. “How’s work been?” 

“How do you think?” Simon replied. 

Tommy shrugged. “I dunno. A pain?” He opened his arms when Joseph beckoned to be in his arms, allowing the little guy to climb onto his lap. Tommy gently patted Joseph’s back, “Well, I’m sure Joseph is happy you’re here.” 

You saw Simon’s snippy attitude soften. Joseph looked over at him, nodding in agreement with his dad.  

Simon took a sip of his tea. “Remind me, how old are you Joseph? One?” 

Joseph went shy and shook his head against Tommy’s shoulder. 

“Oh you’re not?? Hm, what about two?” 

“No…” Joseph whispered with a soft smile. 

Simon leaned back, propping up his leg so his ankle rested against his knee. “Ok, tell me if I’m warm?”  

Joseph didn’t say anything, but Simon took it as a yes. “Ten??” 

Joseph giggled a little, shaking his head. 

“What about… Six?” 

Joseph considered this, and Tommy leaned in to whisper, yes, he was turning six. Joseph nodded, looking over at Uncle Simon with a small smile now. Through his small smile, his gap-toothed expression was evident. It warmed your heart at how adorable the little guy was.  

“You’re getting pretty old. Dad’ll start charging you rent soon.” 

“Oh shush.” Beth gently scolded him. 

“Gotta prepare him for when he’ll be pitching in for rent. That’s what we did when we were little-“ 

“What’s the rule about no trauma dumping on the first day?” 

“No trauma dumping on the first day…” He muttered and sipped his tea. 

“Sharp mind.” She teasingly patted his shoulder. She was like the firm older sister Simon didn’t have the dreaded experience with. He suffered enough with a brother, he couldn’t begin to imagine that with a sister. 

He was glad Tommy didn’t find a pushover pill pusher, but she was like a ruler. Bend it too far and it snaps right back to hit you in your face. But she was a lovely woman regardless. She’d been the main middleman for the brother's continued talks, working toward tranquil redemption. 

“Did you two get dinner??” She perked up, looking over at you.  

“Oh, no we didn’t. It’s no problem though-“  

She raised her hand and stood. “I’ve got leftovers from last night I can toss in the oven quick for ya.” 

“Yes ma’am.” Simon didn’t argue this time. 

While she did that you three talked together. Tommy asked you about how you enjoyed and dealt with working with Simon. The playful banter between the brothers made you chuckle in between serious conversations. Cheap quips and snide teasing. 

Beth brought you two trays of cabbage rolls, and oh my goodness they were heavenly. The best cabbage rolls you’d had in your entire life.  

“Oh, Beth,” You hummed, eagerly digging into more. Beth smiled proudly. 

“Told her once, she should go on Master Chef.” Tommy said to Simon. 

“You kiddin’? She’d make Ramsey cry.” 

The two snickered, you and Simon finishing the last of the leftovers. The pace of the evening continued on. 

Soon it was Joseph’s bedtime, and Beth went to tuck him in. Not before rushing for a quick hug from Uncle Simon, who squeezed him gently. “Go on, get some sleep, bubs.” 

“Ok…”  

He rushed to Mom, who picked him up and carried him to bed. You were the next to go, yawning and slumping into the comfy couch. “I think he’s onto something.”  

“Tired too, huh?” Tommy nodded. “Well, you two had a long flight here. Best let you get some rest. The spare room is open, we’ve got an air mattress we can set up? Unless one of you wants the pull-out couch.” 

“I can take the couch.” Simon muttered. 

You wanted to fight it, but if Simon wasn’t comfortable sharing a space with you, you wouldn’t push.  

Tommy nodded and got up. “Come on then, I’ll show you the spare room.” 

You followed Tommy closely and made it to the bedroom. A queen bed with comfy blankets and a nightlight on the side desk.  

“Thank you, for the hospitality.” 

Tommy nodded. “Look, he may be an asshole. But any friend of Simon’s is a friend of ours… For the most part.” 

You chuckled softly. “Goodnight Simon!” You called back, hearing him grunt in indignation.  

Simon slept on the pull-out couch. Slept is a very loose term. It was sleep, and then periodically waking up when the house settled or just to do a once over of the shadowy, dark living room.  

He survived the night in the house, around 6 he heard shuffling upstairs. 

Beth opened one eye slowly, barely aware Tommy was leaving bed. “Thomas…” She reached out and grabbed his hand gently.  

Tommy looked down at her, gently squeezing her hand. “I’m going to shower, not leaving yet.” 

“I’ll make you breakfast…” 

He gently shook his head, leaned down, and kissed her tenderly. “I’ll pick something up.” She hummed, resigning and shifting back asleep. Tommy grabbed his work clothes and went to have his shower. After which he cuddled her some more before heading downstairs.  

Simon skulked over the counter, a cup of tea in hand. Tommy brushed his hair back, jumping slightly when he saw Simon. “Fuckin’ hell… Ugly mug in the mornin'" He muttered. 

“You’re one to talk.”  

“Skeleton lookin’ ass.”  

“Suck up.” 

“At least I have a wife.” Tommy grumbled.  

“You can keep her.” 

“I planned on it.” 

The two nodded firmly. Tommy grabbed his work jacket and started to put on his boots. He grabbed his keys and went for the door, then sighed softly.  

“Simon?” 

Simon looked up from his cup. “Wot?” 

“I’m… Glad you came to stay.” 

Simon looked down again. He didn’t say anything, leaving Tommy in an awkward silence. “Alright…” Tommy inhaled deeply and stepped out the door. 

When the door closed again, Simon’s shoulders dropped, and he continued to sip his tea.  

He felt heavy at the table, letting the warm drink wash over his muscles, soothing each overactive muscle. 

You were the next person up. After dressing you wandered out to the living room, spotting Simon clanking around as quietly as possible in the kitchen. 

“Looking for food?” 

“Forgot where Beth keeps her instant meals…” 

You raised an eyebrow as he continued to roam around the cupboards and cabinets. You looked at the fridge and wandered over, inside were five or more stacked meal preps she’d done. “Had you checked in here?”  

He perked up and looked at the fridge. A pause. “I was going there next.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’m sure.” You pulled out the one labeled Tuna Salad and popped open the lid.  

Simon took his meds in the meantime, and you served each a bowl. “She’ll be ok with this?” 

Simon shrugged. “She usually doesn’t give a shit what I eat.”  

You both sat at the table and ate in peaceful silence until Beth joined you. “Oh, Tuna Salad? That does sound good.” She went to the container, seeing there was still enough for her, Joseph, and Tommy when he got home. 

She joined you at the table.  

“Where’s Tommy?” 

“He’s at work. But, he’ll be off early for Joseph’s birthday tomorrow.” 

“That’s nice.” 

Not long after, the little guy scuttled down the stairs and rushed over to Mum. “Mama…” He gently tugged her shirt.  

“Hey baby.” And smiled at him. 

“Where’s dad…?” 

“Work baby, he’ll be home later. You hungry?” 

He nodded, so she got up and served him a bowl of Tuna Salad. He poked at it, sticking his finger in the tuna and eating from his palm. 

You chuckled softly, and Joseph’s gaze was on you. You looked down at your food, letting Joseph eat. 

Beth gave him a soft look. “Did you tell Uncle Simon we got your electric train working?” 

Joseph momentarily stopped mashing the food and looked up.  

Simon took a sip of his tea. “You get it working?” 

“Dad,” He made motions with his tuna and lettuce-covered hands. “Fixed it.” 

“You gotta show me then. It looked pretty cool in the video.” That made Joseph smile. His toothy little smile, those two front teeth missing, giving him an adorable smile. 

He rushed from the table, making Beth chuckle. He wiped his hands on his pajama pants, that she wasn’t too happy to see. He went to the living room and scrambled to get the electric train from under the tree.  

Simon moved from the kitchen to the living room, squatting down while his nephew set up the tracks. They are all connected and could be rearranged to make different paths. The bottom of the connecting train’s rail piece was a small button.  

Joseph pressed it, and the train started up. His smile remained bright, proud of his cool train. 

Simon whistled softly, “Well look at that.”  

Joseph pushed the button again and the train sped up a knot. Simon watched the train go in its circle, pistons trekking quickly over each wheel to keep it moving. 

“What if we made it go underneath?” 

“What?” 

Simon looked around for visual representation and spotted a stack of Beth’s books. “Sorry.” He said half-heartedly and stacked them, putting one of the tracks across the staircase leveled books. “You think we could build it to go up?” 

Joseph’s eyes lit up like saucers, nodding wildly. He scooted closer and Simon helped him build an extravagant track for his train.  

You smiled, watching the inner child of such a harsh man shine through. “Is he always like this here?” 

Beth hummed softly. "Eventually. Sometimes it takes him a bit. But that's Uncle Simon." 

It was warm and lively. You joined them halfway through to see their progress. "Ooh, looks good."  

"Thanks for the approval, Egg." 

A heartbeat or two later you both heard explosive giggles. Simon smiled softly and looked at Joseph who laughed.  

"What's so funny?" Your smile softened too. 

Joseph's cheeks went red, hiccing and giggling. "Egg!" 

The two of you chuckled too. "Yes, that's Egg." 

"Cracks people up." You grinned. Simon said, "Oh, that was good." 

"Right? I'm so quick with it." 

Joseph was laughing in tears but managed to recover.

"I coined it for them."  

"Thanks for that." Said sarcastically. “But the call signs aren’t technically supposed to be cool, and I don’t think I have the worst call sign on base.” 

"You're welcome." Simon replied, taking all credit. 

Your visit with the Riley family was fun. For Simon’s family, you didn’t expect them to be as lively as they were. Beth was Tommy a pair of incredible parents. 

“Dada.” Joseph pointed out the window to a truck driving along the neighborhood, beckoning his father over. Tommy came over, kneeled beside Joseph, and watched the garbage truck go by. "Look at that, hey?" He smiled a little, admiring his son's happy expression. And they sat there watching the garbage men go down the street.

-

He'd sit with Mama Beth at the table as she cut his toasties for him. Pecking a soft kiss on his hair and helping him with anything he needed.

-

Joseph would sit on his dad's lap, cuddling with him and his stuffie as they watched Tommy's favorite cowboy movies or YouTube videos on cool machinery. Joseph loved it, and would usually fall asleep if it was late. His dad went upstairs and tucked him into bed.

-

Uncle Simon would continue to play with him and take Joseph out for adventures. Telling him his awful jokes and the PG version of his missions. Joseph saw him as the ultimate hero, aside from his parents.

-

Tommy was always there to have the occasional casual conversation, hated talking about his work. Beth would let you invade her kitchen and would not hesitate to put you in place if you got rowdy.

Whenever Simon and Tommy started to act like brothers do. The classic pranks like pink hair dye in the shampoo, laxatives in tea, and tearing off the moustache with duct tape, she's the one to end it. And they never fight Beth.

You were there to witness Simon and Tommy coming in after a game of football covered in mud. And the horror in her face when she was told they might have gotten tangled up in the plants... You've never seen Simon submit so easily. His sister-in-law is scary ok!?

But she was chill with you. You're her new favorite.

And then came Joseph's birthday. The brothers were rowdy. Of course they let the little guy sleep in, his birthday being on a Sunday.

Beth and Tommy got up to make Sunday breakfast and the rest of you periodically got up.

"Ew, Beth, what is that?" *Simon scrunched his nose.

She looked over at him before frowning. "My husband you dumbfuck."

Simon raised his eyebrows briefly. "Shoulda seen that coming..."

Tommy snickered, leaning over to give Beth a kiss while washing the strawberries. "That's my love." Beth smiled a little, nudging him back and stealing another kiss.

"Ok, ok we get it, you're in love." Simon said, his tone in a sarcastic drawl. "Ugh... Get a room."

"Yeah, you wish we would." Tommy gave Beth a light snack on the butt.

"Oi! Behave- both of you." Beth went slightly pink, shaking her head and reprimanding the two back into their place. The brothers continuing to mime mocking words at each other. Simon stuck out his tongue, Tommy flipped the middle finger.

Geez, it was like watching two middle school kids argue over the sandbox.

"Well, everyone seems lively today." You looked at Simon, nudging him to stop sticking out his tongue at his brother.

"Huh?" One Simon who had been very caught up in his young sibling antics. "Yes, yes very."

You chuckled and shook your head softly. Oh boy, you know he didn't hear a word you said.

And then the little guy came waddling in. "Mama...??" *He rubbed his tired eyes, going over to her and grabbing onto her side, hugging it.

"Good morning, baby. You sleep ok?" *She reached out, gently ruffling his soft hair.

"Mhm..."

"You ready for your birthday breakfast?" She asked, combing through his hair. "Mhm." *He replied.

Tommy and Beth got the table set and brought food over, serving Joseph up a plate of pancakes and whipped cream on top. Joseph muttered out a quick thank you before eagerly digging in. Consuming it like a black hole.

Simon smirked as Joseph inhaled his pancakes.

"Wow." You whispered.

"He inherited my appetite. It skips a generation." Simon replied with a smirk.

"Oh, does it now? Are Joseph's grandchildren going to get it?"

"Very likely. It's horrible."

"I feel so bad for them." You chuckled, smiling softly and grabbing a serving.

It was odd seeing Simon like this, but it was rather endearing as well. Simon was always this big strong man, and he still was, absolutely. But something about getting to see him domestic hot differently. Seeing how he got up with his brother, how gentle he was with his nephew, and the snarky little shit with his sister-in-law. You smiled as you watched them, saw how they interacted.

Joseph seemed equally as happy to have his family all in one place. And then Tommy brought a couple boxes to the table. "Ok bud, all yours."

Joseph looked at the boxes, eyeing them with stars in his pupils. He bounced in his chair and picked the top one up, early tearing into it to see what it was. He shrieked, his smile going wide. "Batman!?"

"Yep." Simon smiled proudly, watching Joseph pick up the Batman costume he'd ordered online. He was lucky it had reached their house in time.

"That's from uncle Simon." Beth said.

"Thank you!" He squirmed from his seat, eagerly to wrap his arms around his uncle. Simon gave Joseph a little assuring squeeze. "Any time, bubs."

Tommy pushed a present closer, and Joseph smiled at his parents. This was from them. He could feel it. So he broke it open, and looked inside, smiling warmly. A remote control car.

"You've done well with the train, so we figure it can't hurt to let you go 4-wheel drive."

Joseph smiled, waddled to hug both mum and dad. And they hugged him, of course.

And you felt like you couldn't come to their house without getting their son a gift.

So you slid it across the table, smiling at Joseph, who perked up and looked at it. Ooo.

He picked up the gift shyly. "Thank you..."

He looked it over before opening it up. He smiled, looking down at the bag of gummy worms.

"it's... Not much, but your uncle likes them, and I trusted his word that you did too."

Joseph took the bag, and looked at you, giving you a big, happy smile. "Thank you!"

It warmed your heart in a way you couldn't describe. There was nothing better than spending all the time with family. And Simon's family seemed wonderful.

(I wanted to explore with the family more, not sure if I did them heaps of justice but this project took a bit to come to me and I couldn't cram all my thoughts on the Riley's coherently into this without frying. But I want more for these three, I promise.)

[tojiscrack]

sneak peak, 'liar, liar' chap.6 : junior year

liar, liar masterlist here:

he flinched when your voice rose once more:

"you're taking ap math?" you demanded, only just realising that he had one extra lesson than you, yuji and nobara. it was at the very top of the table, labelled 'period 0'.

"don't give him an opportunity to act more pompous than he already is," scoffed nobara, looking uninterested. you did not comment on how she still peeked over the sheet when she thought you weren't looking.

"wow," yuji began, looking pleasantly in awe at megumi's hefty schedule. he leaned back in his seat, careful not to pull himself too far back in the event that he might fall off. you secretly wished that he did, if only to stifle your current shock. "so you'll start the day earlier... won't you be exhausted when we get to football practice?"

that was a good question. since coach yaga had stubbornly given both megumi and yuji spots on the school's football team, it had since been announced that practice would take place every day after school unless otherwise mentioned. with megumi's mornings starting earlier than the rest of you, and his days finishing later, he was bound to be torn down with tiredness. although he acted like a robot all the time (eat, sleep, make a rude comment about you, repeat) he was still a human who needed rest. more school meant more social interaction. more social interaction meant a drained megumi. things would only go south from there.

he shrugged at the question.

"i'll be fine," he answered, unbothered.

you disagreed. "you'll die —"

"— revive me with your mermaid abilities then —"

you hoped you pinched him hard enough to bruise. 

"wait," you said, halting your attack on him with a slow frown. he took the opportunity to rip your hands off his ribs and shuffled away from you. you ignored him, sliding down to sit hip-to-hip with him. "if you do ap math in the morning, we can't walk to school together."

for the third time that day, megumi snatched back his timetable from you.

"good luck," he said. "you cross the road like you have nine lives."

"you basically just told her that you wouldn't care if she died," yuji intervened, quick to jump to your defence despite the many times you would argue with him too. 

"this is what happens when you hype him up," said nobara, pointing at him with enough aggression, any outsider would probably assume that he'd committed blasphemy — you liked to think he had. 

"i'm surrounded by idiots," you thought you heard him mutter. 

liar, liar masterlist here:

notes: guys, this is the chapter AFTER the (unreleased) chapter 5. thought i'd feed it to you 'cause i don't have a sneak peak prepared for chapter 5 itself, and this was sitting in my drafts, unattended. and cuz it's been over a month since the last update (and will take another month to actually complete and release a new chapter) i thought i'd give you guys SOMETHING rather than nothing :)

[brewsterispunkk]

THE TUTOR

part 2/4

pairing: eddie munson x afab!reader (period is mentioned), eddie munson x fem!reader

WC: 4.1k

summary: reader and eddie begin their little deal.

warnings: idiots. just idiots. also brief SA-- nothing explicit, just groping--NOT main pairing, recreational drug use

A/N: here is part 2! hope u love it! pls pls pls leave feedback ;) read it and weep.

Senior Year Bucket List

1) Get drunk

2) Skip Class

3) Do a drug

4) Sneak out

5) Skinny dip

6) Get a boyfriend, lose my virginity

You sighed and shook your head as soon as you’d written that last part, hands only half-shaking.

This was fine, you thought to yourself. 

It wasn’t weird, you kept telling yourself. It wasn’t. Eddie himself had asked you to come to school Monday with an itemized list of what exactly you’d felt like you’d missed out on. “A bucket list of sorts” he called it. 

You had to keep yourself from adding “feeling safe” to the list of things you’d felt you’d missed out on.

That was difficult for you sometimes. 

For the most part, you’d been able to compartmentalize what had happened to you last summer: the deaths, the torture, the “mall fire.” The rest of Hawkins knew that you’d survived it, along with Steve, Robin, and the kids. You’d gotten away with minor bruising to the face and neck after a Russian tried to choke you in an effort to get you to talk. It wasn’t ideal, but it could have been worse. Steve had been the one to take the brunt of the torture. You and Robin had screamed yourselves hoarse while they beat him in the other room. 

You sometimes still had nightmares about the sick sound of their fists hitting his face.

When you’d emerged as one of the survivors of what they were calling the “Starcourt Mall Fire,” your mother had been relieved. After your father had split when you were ten, you were all she had. Still, she hadn’t been prepared for the effects of what had happened to you. To be fair, neither were you. Neither were any of you. 

You’d always been shy, ever since you were a kid, but now instead of having a generally quiet disposition, you were skittish. The slightest noise made you jump, and you couldn’t stand to listen to Reagan talk about the U.S.S.R. on the news without having a panic attack. The nightmares had subsided after about two months, though they returned whenever you were stressed. 

You found you always looked over your shoulder, always looking out for some unknown thing that might be stalking you. When people talk about saving the world, they never talk about the ugly parts. About the broken fingernails and the insomnia and the muffling of sobs behind your hand as you break down in the girls’ bathroom. 

It’s a lonely thing, being a hero. An unfair thing. You felt like that night at Starcourt, when Hopper and Billy Hargrove hadn’t emerged from the fire, your adolescence had been stolen from you. That it had disappeared with the smoke and ash as it engulfed Scoops Ahoy and the rest of the shopping center. You hope that if Eddie actually does follow through with this little deal of yours, you’ll be able to experience at least a little of it. 

- - - -

“So,” Eddie drummed his hands on the top of your desk as he slid into the seat in front of you. “What do you have for me, miss tutor girl?”

He was awfully chipper for 7:00 in the morning. You blinked at him and skated your gaze across the room. 

It was close enough to first period for the room to be reasonably filled with students, most too sluggish to notice. But a few girls towards the front looked over their shoulders at him, eyes narrowed, before zooming in on you, where they widened curiously. 

“What, scared for your reputation?” Eddie was only half-joking, his eyes a little guarded. They narrowed at you. 

You shook your head almost comically. 

“No,” you burst. “No, not at all. Just had a weird night.”

“Hm,” he looked at you skeptically. You rolled your eyes.

“We’ve already talked about this, Eddie. I don’t have a reputation for you to ruin.”

He snorted at that.

“Alright then,” he leaned forward, his chin on his fists. “What’s got you so skittish, then? Another crazy party like Friday?”

“No,” you sighed, leaning down to retrieve your list from your backpack. “Just couldn’t sleep.”

 “Okay.” He looked like he didn’t believe you. You didn’t blame him; you couldn’t have been that convincing. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.  

“Did you bring it?” He asked. 

You nodded, slamming the sheet of notebook paper onto the desk and slid it over to him. 

“Here you go,” you pulled at your sleeve nervously. “Just don’t laugh, okay?”

Eddie looked at you and feigned shock. 

“Me? Laugh at you? I’m offended.”

“Eddie, I’m serious,” you felt your cheeks flush and your stomach plummet. “I’m just–It’s embarrassing. I’m being very… vulnerable and if you’re gonna laugh, we can just forget about it—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” his warm hands covered yours where they were sitting on the desk. He squeezed your palms reassuringly.  “I was kidding. I won’t laugh. Scout’s honor.”

You looked into his eyes for a moment to see if he was serious. All you saw was sincerity. You let out a deep breath. 

“You were a boy scout?” 

His lips spread in a wry smile as he turned to the paper. 

“Nope,” he unfolded the list. “It’s the thought that counts, though, right?”

You shrugged. 

“I guess?”

“Okay, what do we have here?” 

You sat in awkward silence as Eddie scanned the page, dark eyes focused. Hie brows were furrowed and his lips pouted in concentration. 

“‘Get drunk,’ we can certainly make that happen. ‘Skip a class,’ you won’t need to ask me twice.” He stopped for a moment and huffed a laugh. 

You felt your cheeks heat up. 

“What–”

“‘Do a drug.’” He said with a secret smile–like he knew something you didn’t. 

“Yeah,” you drew out. “I figured you’d know a guy.”

“Oh,” Eddie laughed. “I know a guy.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he smiled at you, before turning his eyes back to the page. “Ohh.”

Eddie’s eyes sparkled as he turned them back to you. He looked like a sprite, you thought. With his wild hair and mischievous smile. He was gorgeous. 

“‘Get a boyfriend,’” he set the list down on the table. “Am I going to be playing match-maker, teacher’s pet?”

You rolled your eyes. He was teasing you. 

“If that’s what it takes,” you quipped, your nervousness having melted away. “And I am not a teacher’s pet.”

“Whatever you say,” he raised an eyebrow at you. 

As you opened your mouth to respond, the clearing of a throat interrupted you. 

You looked up to see Cameron Reyes leering over Eddie. 

“Hey. You’re in my seat,” he sneered. “Beat it.”

Eddie sighed, before slinking out of the seat slowly, taking his time. 

“My apologies,” he smiled at Cameron, before dropping into his own seat, next to you. 

You glared at the back of Cameron’s head. 

Why did he have to be such an asshole?

Cameron was on the swim team and you’d had classes with him since Kindergarten. He hadn’t always been a dick; In fourth grade when you’d skinned your knee, he’d helped you up and walked you to the nurse’s office. It wasn’t until high school, when he’d begun running with guys like Tommy Hagan, that he’d changed. Now, you couldn’t stand him. 

That was the way of things, though, in Hawkins. There were the bullies and the bullied—rarely anything in between.

- - - -

As you walked down the halls, you felt their eyes on your legs and you regretted letting Robin convince you to wear this skirt. 

The denim felt heavy on your hips. You wiped your clammy hands on the blue material, wishing that you didn’t have to walk practically across school to get to pre-calc. 

“Looking good,” someone whistled from behind you. You felt dread seep down your spine. 

Please no, not here. 

This wasn’t the first time you’d been catcalled. 

The first time was when you and Robin were thirteen and walking to the general store down the road from your houses. A few men in a pick-up truck had rolled their windows down and told you in great detail all they’d liked to do to you. You and Robin hid inside the general store until the clerk called your mom to pick you up. You hadn’t even gotten your first period yet. 

However, this was the first time you’d been catcalled at school. It still felt just as scary as the first time. 

“Where have you been hiding those legs, teacher’s pet?” 

You whipped around at the nickname, bristling at it. You hated when people called you that, unless that person was Eddie. 

You were faced with a basketball player; one of the guys who hung out with Jason Carver and sometimes Lucas. Thomas Reed. Your skin crawled at the way he and the two boys behind him looked at you. 

“Fuck off,” you spat at him before turning on your heel and walking faster to your destination. 

“Aw, come on, don’t be like that!” He called after you, but you could barely hear him over the blood rushing in your ears. 

It only calmed when you’d reached your classroom.

- - - -

“Are you even listening to me?” You smacked his hand where it was tapping on the wood of the library table. Outside, a heavy autumn rain pummeled the sidewalk, the trees swaying with it. 

“Yes,” Eddie rolled his eyes. 

“What did I just say?”

“That…Holden is a whiny little bitch.”

You sighed, bringing a hand to your forehead. 

“No.” You ground out. “And if you write that in your essay, Ms. Taylor is going to fail you and me, so please, can you take this seriously?”

He sighed and had the nerve to look a little guilty. It made your heart clench a bit. 

In the few sessions you’d tutoring Eddie, your crush had done anything but lessened. In fact, it had grown tenfold. It was one thing to admire him from across the room, it was another completely to spend time with him and actually be able to talk to him. 

You found that in addition to being cute and pensive, he was kind and not at all the scary loner that everyone painted him to be. If he hadn’t cemented his reputation by being an avid player of D&D, he would’ve been popular, you thought. 

And all this goes to day: you couldn’t stay mad at him, even when you wanted to.

“Okay,” he said, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. You briefly reminded yourself to offer to cut them for him later—he’d been complaining about them getting in his face all session. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“What?” Your attention snapped back to him. Eddie looked at you like you’d grown another head. 

“Uhh, I asked what you were saying?”

“Oh! Oh yeah,” you shook your head. “I zoned out.”

“I gathered that.” Eddie snorted, leaning forward. “Uh, off-topic, but I was wondering, when do you wanna get started on that bucket list?”

“Oh. Whenever.”

“I was thinking we could start this week.”

“So soon?” You practically squeaked. As excited you were about these new experiences, you were nervous. Especially because the person you’d be experiencing them with was Eddie. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself. 

“No time like the present,” Eddie’s voice was chipper. “So, what did you wanna start with?”

“I thought we’d start small and work up to something bigger?” You asked.

“That sounds good,” Eddie nodded. “How does skipping class work for this week?”

“Ugh, not well actually.” You sighed, sour. “We have that exam this week in Taylor’s and then for Chem I have—”

“Relax, we don’t have to start with that one. Hmm, what else…”

“We could always—”

You cut yourself off, thinking better of it, but Eddie caught you. 

“Nevermind.”

“No, what is it?”

You looked at him skeptically. 

“If you wanna do something, you gotta tell me. It’s your bucket list, tutor-girl, not mine.”

“What if we…did a drug?”

God, you sounded like such a teacher’s pet saying it.

“Okay, teacher’s pet.” Eddie’s face was gleeful, excited. “You’re full of surprises. We can do that, definitely.”

“Okay,” you let out a breath. 

“Any reason why you jumped to that one?”

“I just– I’m so stressed.” Thomas Reed’s lustful gaze flashed in your mind and you shook it off. 

“You okay?” Eddie grabbed your hand on the table. You swallowed. 

“Yeah,” you said lamely, mouth dry. “Just–a lot going on. School.”

“School,” Eddie repeated like he didn’t believe you. His eyes held yours for a moment before he nodded. “Okay teacher’s pet. Drugs it is. Any preference?”

“Nothing too crazy. Just something to take the edge off?”

“I can do that,” he smiled. “This is gonna be fun.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just think you’ll be funny high.”

“We’ll see,” you narrowed your eyes at him. He just smiled at you for a moment. Your eyes held his and you had the sudden urge to reach over the table and kiss him. You coughed, turning back to your notes in front of you. 

“Anyway, what do you think Salinger’s trying to say?”

“Other than the fact that Holden is annoying?”

“Eddie, I’m serious—”

“I am too!” Eddie insisted. “All this shit about ‘phonies,’ when he’s just like them–”

“You know, I thought you’d relate to Holden.” You smirked at him.

“What?”

“Well, he’s an outcast—all teenage angst and—”

“I’m twenty, thank you.” He snapped at you, causing you to stutter. 

“Oh, no I didn’t mean outcast like—”

“No, it’s okay,” Eddie chuckled, waving you off. “It’s true. And I like it that way.”

You eyed him skeptically. 

“Really, I do.” He folded his arms over his chest. “There are too many assholes in this school. If I wanted to fit in, I’d have to act like them. At least a little bit. Besides, I’ve got people. Not much, but I’ve got’em.”

You hummed. 

“I’ve never thought of that.”

“What, Holden being a bitch, because—”

You smacked his arm, laughing. 

“Okay, okay, sorry,” Eddie giggled. He giggled. Your heart leapt. “What, though? What did I say that was so profound?”

He was being sarcastic, you could tell, but you didn’t care. 

“The whole—having to sacrifice part of yourself to fit in. It’s true. I’d never thought of it like that.”

He hummed, eyes holding yours a moment, before his grin broke the moment. 

“Maybe I should be the one tutoring, huh?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. 

“Turn to page 225.”

- - - -

Thomas found you again the next day, this time before school as you were at your locker. 

“Hey there,” he smiled, sliding up next to you, effectively boxing you in between him and the locker. You jumped, moving as close to the locker as you could. “How are you today?”

“Leave me alone,” you ground out, trying to slip past him, but his hand in a hard grip on your arm stopped you. 

“Aw, but we could have so much fun, teacher’s pet.”

“Let me go—”

“Where’s your little skirt?” he asked, grip tightening on your arm as you scrambled to get away. 

You silently cursed whoever in the administration office had placed your locker on one of the most abandoned hallways in the school. 

“Your legs looked so good—”

His palm came to squeeze the meat of your ass and your stomach churned. Without thinking, you spat in his face, palm coming to connect with his cheek. 

“You cunt—”

“The hell is going on here?” 

Eddie walked briskly up to you as you stepped back from Thomas. He moved to stand between you two, face hard. It was the mask he put on every day in front of the rest of the school, the ones who thought he was mean and scary. Only now, you weren’t sure how much of it was a mask. 

“Nothing, man.” Thomas waved him off, wiping his face. He glared at you in a way that made your feet stick to the spot. 

“It doesn’t look like nothing.”

“I said it's nothing.”

“And I said—”

“It’s fine,” you mumbled. 

“Hey wait—”

Eddie moved to grab Thomas as he walked away from the two of you. 

“I said it’s fine,” you said louder this time, and reached out to grab Eddie’s shoulder and pull him back toward you. 

“Bullshit!” He spun and turned toward you, clearly pissed off. “What the hell was that?”

“I said it was fine, Eddie!” You burst at him, voice cracking. You took a deep breath. 

“Honey, are you—” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you interrupted Eddie’s suddenly soft voice. You wiped a stray but of moisture from under your eyelid. “Let’s just go to class.”

“But–”

“Eddie, drop it,” you all but snapped, before adding lamely, “please.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Lead the way. Taylor’s gonna be pissed if I’m late again.”

You could practically hear him simmering as he walked a half-step behind you to class, but you didn’t care to acknowledge it. You’d made it abundantly clear you didn’t want to talk about it. If he pushed you, you might just snap. 

As the two of you made your way down the halls, you felt eyes following you. They were all wondering: what was the quiet nerd doing with the freak? You didn’t care to acknowledge that either. 

Let them wonder, you thought. I’m done caring about their rumor mill.

- - - -

“Jesus, Eddie.” You gasped and looked around. 

There was no one in the janitor’s closet with you, but still: with that much weed on him, Eddie would be expelled and arrested. You had no idea how he’d gotten it in the two days since your conversation. 

“What?” He asked, out of breath. He’d pulled you in here between third and fourth period, scarring you half to death in the process. “I told you I’d get the stuff.”

“Yeah, but I didn't know you meant so much,” you scoffed. Now, looking down at the green, wooly buds you were going to smoke, you felt your stomach flood with anxiety. You weren’t so sure about it anymore. “Where did you even get it?”

“I know a guy.”

“Fine, don’t tell me,” you rolled your eyes frustratedly. “What did you drag me here for, anyway?”

Eddie furrowed his eyebrows, looking genuinely confused at your hostile tone. 

“To…let you know I got the stuff.” He drawled, before narrowing his eyes at you. “You okay, sweetheart? You look like you’re gonna be sick.”

Your stomach was churning. Between the stuff with Thomas that morning and now this, it was too much. 

You pressed a hand to your abdomen as the faint smell of weed permeated from the open baggie between Eddie’s fingers.

God, he had pretty fingers, you thought somewhere in the back of your mind. It was something you'd revisit when you weren’t about to have a panic attack.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Eddie rushed toward you as you doubled over, hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath and calm the nausea. His hands found your shoulders, and another wave of the sharp smell of marijuana made you retreat further into your mind. 

All of a sudden, you weren’t there; you were back at Starcourt with Billy Hargrove’s hands around your neck, the smell of the weed he’d smoked earlier still on his clothes. 

Your breathing shallowed and you gasped, trying to breathe, but in vain. 

“Hey, hey, breathe for me,” you faintly heard Eddie over your own heartbeat. “You gotta breathe, honey. C’mon, breathe for me. Deep breaths, like this.”

He pressed your palm to his chest as he inhaled deeply.

You looked up at him, at his wide, panicked eyes and did as he said, slowly inhaling a shaky breath. 

“That’s it,” he took another deep breath, eyes not leaving yours. “Just like that. Okay. Another one, now.”

You took a deep breath, much easier this time, eyes never leaving his.

- - - -

“So…” Eddie began, eyes finally meeting yours. “You wanna tell me what the hell that was?”

You sighed, tilting your head back to lean against the wall where you were sitting. You looked up at the fluorescents in the janitor’s closet. 

“That was a panic attack, Eddie,” you said monotonously.

“Don’t be a smart ass. What happened?”

You sighed again. 

It had taken five minutes for Eddie to talk you down from your… episode. After, he’d let you catch your breath. You’d thought that you’d be able to just go about your day from there. You were stupid to think he’d let this go. 

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“Jesus, sweetheart, I don't care about that. I just wanna know what the hell caused it. Did I–”

“No,” you said immediately. “You didn’t—”

“Did it have something to do with this morning?” Eddie’s voice was low, and as serious as you’d ever heard it. 

You remained quiet, eyes trained on the light above you. Eddie took that as confirmation. His eyes flashed dangerously as you finally looked at him. 

“I’ll kill him.”

Eddie moved to his feet with purpose, moving to open the closet door. 

“No!” you grabbed his ankle, scrambling. “No, Eddie. It’s not worth it.”

“Bullshit, it’s not worth it—”

“Please, let’s just get out of here. Let’s go smoke. We’ve practically missed all of fourth period anyway.”

“Honey, he can’t just–”

“I know, Eddie,” you stood up level with him. “But right now, I really wanna leave, and that’s more important than whatever revenge plot you have.”

He looked at the door obstinately for another moment before turning back to you. 

“Fine.” he said, not fully convinced. 

“Thank you,” you took a calming breath. “Good. Besides, it’ll be like killing two birds with one stone, right? Two items off the bucket list at once.”

- - - -

Eddie’s car was smoky; a hotbox is what he called it. 

As you took a long drag of the joint he passed to you, the deep, leafy aroma filled your lungs. As you breathed out, all worries or stress you had about school or Thomas or even the Upside Down diminished to an afterthought. 

So this is why people smoke, you thought to yourself, giggling a little bit. 

“What is it?” Eddie turned his head to you, unruly curls brushing your cheek. 

The two of you were sprawled out on the floor of his van, shoulder to shoulder and head to head, about twenty minutes into the session. You’d learned this so far: that Eddie smelled good, like cigarettes and cologne and something musky, and that his eyes got even more glassy when he smoked. All that to say: you wanted to kiss him. Bad. 

You passed him the joint, your fingers brushing his in the process.

“It’s just that I finally get why people do this so much,” you laughed. 

“It’s been twenty minutes,” Eddie laughed with you. 

“And I feel better already!”

Eddie went quiet, taking two puffs from the joint. You turned to look at him, eyes immediately darting to his lips. He was looking pensively at the corner of the van. 

“Not fair,” you grabbed the joint from him. “Don’t hog.”

“I get them too, you know.” He said all of a sudden, somber. 

You stopped, looking at him still. Eddie turned his head to face you, nose only an inch from yours. 

“Not so much anymore, but when I was younger. When I first came to live with Wayne.”

“Wayne?”

“My uncle,” he swallowed, turning his head away from yours. “I live with him. Have since I was twelve. My dad, he was… not a great guy.”

You were quiet for a moment, passing the joint back to him. 

“My dad left.” You said. “Sometimes I’m not even sure I remember what he looks like.”

Eddie grabbed your hand, squeezing. 

Instead of the flutter of anxious butterflies, you felt a calm wash over you at his hand in yours. 

“Do you, uh…” Eddie trailed off, taking a deep huff, “wanna talk about what I saw this morning?”

You sighed, not feeling anxious, but feeling tired. 

“You remember the skirt I wore the other day?”

Eddie swallowed visibly, eyes darting to your legs before your face again. 

“Yeah.”

“Robin helped me pick it out in June,” you fiddled with your sweater. “She convinced me to wear it the other day, finally, while the weather is still at least a little nice. Anyway, Thomas noticed my skirt. He hasn’t left me alone since. And today, he…”

Eddie took a long drag. 

“He grabbed me, grabbed my ass. Fucking pig.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m not even, like, scarred by that. You know how ridiculous that is? That I’m not even phased by it anymore?”

Eddie just shook his head, glaring at the ceiling. 

“Eddie?”

He wordlessly handed you the joint. 

“Toke up, sweetheart.”

You chuckled. 

“Jesus, what an asshole.” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, taking a long drag. 

“Someone should—”

“Someone should, but someone won’t.” You looked at him. “They never do.”

“Hmm,” Eddie hummed, biting his lip in concentration. 

“Wanna skip the rest of the day?”

“God, yes.”

Th next day, Thomas Reed had a busted lip and a black eye. 

[brian-in-finance]

Instagram

•••••

•••••

WHAT THE STARS ARE SAYING

Check out why so many famed actors use Backstage

Trusted since 1960

Founded in 1960, Backstage has a storied history of serving the entertainment industry. For over 60 years Backstage has served as a casting resource and news source for actors, performers, directors, producers, agents, and casting directors.

Over that time, Backstage Magazine has also appeared on numerous TV shows, such as “Mad Men,” “Entourage,” “Glee,” “Oprah,” NBC's “Today” show, Comedy Central's “@Midnight”, NY1's “On Stage,” and “Saturday Night Live,” as well as multiple mentions on shows like “Inside the Actor’s Studio,” “Girls,” and appearances in films such as “13 Going on 30,” the Farrelly brothers' “Stuck on You” and Spike Lee's “Girl 6,” and even a mention in Woody Allen's short-story collection “Mere Anarchy” and Augusten Burroughs' novel “Sellevision” – and Backstage has received accolades from multiple Academy Award-, Emmy-, and Tony-winning actors and directors. (Plus, the hit musical “The Last Five Years” even includes Backstage in its lyrics: “Here's a headshot guy and a new Backstage / Where you're right for something on every page.”)

CAITRÍONA BALFE

ACTRESS

"I still get Backstage emails 'cause I still subscribe to Backstage. [Backstage is) kind of the Bible in the beginning, which is amazing. Samuel French and Backstage go hand in hand, you know? You go there for your plays when you're in classes, and then you get your Backstage."

Backstage 1

•••••

Brian’s Note: The following story originally appeared in April 2015. Most recent update is December 2020.

The Gorgeous Determination of Caitríona Balfe

Caitríona Balfe is on the move. That's been true most of her adult life— especially the 10 years she was modeling for Victoria's Secret, Dolce & Gabbana, and others—but as she sits on the rooftop patio of a West Hollywood hotel in mid-March, she mentions that she's pulling up stakes from Los Angeles.

"It just feels silly to have an empty place for 10 months until I figure out what I'm doing with my life," the Irish-born actor says. "I've rented the same place for the last four years and now I have to give it up." Her apartment is being razed to put in condos, but her departure from L.A. is extra poignant considering this is the city where Balfe journeyed when she decided to put aside that successful modeling career and focus on the vocation she'd always wanted: acting.

Photo: Luc-Richard Elie

"I've moved so much since I was 18," she says. "I mean, l've lived so many places. New York, I lived in for almost eight years [while modeling], and that's been the longest of anywhere since I left Ireland. But L.A. is where I came and said, 'OK, this is what I wanna do with my life.' "

She refuses to think of her move as a permanent one, though. "I'll be back," she declares, "but it feels really sad. My little apartment, it's got so many memories."

Balfe's sadness is no doubt mitigated by the fact that part of her need to move is due to the precipitous rise in her fortunes. She'll soon be flying to Scotland to shoot the second season of "Outlander," which returns to Starz April 4 to conclude Season 1.

When last we saw Balfe's Claire, the resourceful British nurse who comes home after World War |I only to be inexplicably teleported into the 18th-century Highlands, she was half-naked with a knife to her breast. Don't worry: Claire will get out of that scrape, but more perils await-to say nothing of the emerging multi-era romantic triangle developing between her, the Scottish warrior Jamie Fraser (Sam Heughan), and her 20th-century husband, Frank Randall (Tobias Menzies), who wonders where she's gone.

Based on the much-beloved Diana Gabaldon novels and developed for television by "Battlestar Galactica" rebooter Ronald D. Moore, "Outlander" is an ostensibly lush period-piece-within-a-period-piece drama that's consistently richer and thornier than its romance-novel trappings suggest. And much of the credit goes to Balfe, who had managed small parts in films such as “Super 8” and “Now You See Me” before landing the central role in this adaptation.

In person, Balfe is far less imposing than the steely Claire, who has to weather the dangers of being a woman in sexist, violent Scotland in the 1740s. Cast late in the preproduction of “Outlander”—Moore has mentioned in interviews how hard it was to find the right Claire—she didn’t have time to consider what the role would do to her life. “I’m so bad on social media," she confesses on this warm afternoon, nestled underneath a cabana. "I had set up an account on Twitter maybe a year or so before I got this job and had, I thought, a lot of followers — 250 or something, and most of them are my friends. Within about a month or two, it was thousands of people — and my phone, I didn't know how to turn off the alerts, so it was just going all the time. That was the beginning of the awareness."

Growing up in the small Irish community of Monaghan, Balfe had considered acting from an early age. ("I was devastated that I wasn't a child actor," she says, smiling. But after traveling to Dublin to study theater, she changed course once she received an offer to model. It wasn't a secret passion of hers, but who turns down a trip to Paris? "My parents felt that I should finish college," Balfe recalls, "but l'm slightly headstrong, so l took their advice and I completely ignored it."

Over the next decade, she lived in France, Italy, Germany, and Japan, her modeling inexperience hardly a detriment. "You'd be amazed how little information or training goes into it," she says. "When I first arrived in Paris, I was told to take a bus to the office. I left my suitcase — I barely spoke any French — and someone took me across the street, helped me buy a Carte Orange. They printed out five addresses that I had to go to that day, and then they sent me off." She still remembers at 18 riding the subway alongside 16-year-old aspiring Russian models, who knew no French or English, homesick and sobbing their eyes out. "That was just the way it was," says Balfe. "You become pretty tough. When I went to Japan, it was similar: They would drive you to their castings, but the minute you got a job, it would be like, 'Here's an address, here's a map. Good luck.' They don't have signposts in English in Japan, so the map and the address are not always very helpful."

Hear Balfe recount her early misadventures in modeling and you can't help but think of Claire, who's equally thrown to the wolves once she arrives in the 18th century amid people wary of the English in general and assertive women in particular. "Honestly, l've been in so many situations in my life where you just are completely displaced," Balfe says. “You have to adapt very quickly and figure it out. I definitely think that informs Claire a lot. It helped me understand her."

Did moving to Paris at such a young age teach Balfe that she can cope in any circumstance? "I think I didn't really realize that until many years later," she replies. "I have a great knack of not thinking about things and just going for it. You learn the hard way sometimes that you're able to get through, but sometimes it's quite tough when you're in a situation where you don't know anyone and you're trying to find your way around cities. But if an opportunity presents itself and it seems like a good idea, l'm just like, 'OK, let's do it, then I'll figure it out.'”

The decision to reconnect with her acting ambitions was conducted just as boldly. Ready to quit modeling, she moved to Los Angeles because a writer she was dating lived there. He was the only person she knew, but she had read a Vanity Fair interview with Amy Adams in which she said she trained with Warner Loughlin. "I could walk to that place from my ex-boyfriend's house," she says, "so l was like, 'Well, I'm gonna go there because I can't really drive. I started from scratch. I didn't have any managers, I didn't know any agents, I hadn't acted in almost a decade." But she just kept taking classes, moving from Loughlin to the studios of Sanford Meisner and Judith Weston. "I think when I first got here, I had a nice little air of delusion: 'It's gonna work out,'" she says with a laugh. “You just don't know how."

And then came "Outlander." By email, Moore admits that he didn't know Balfe's work until her audition tape came unsolicited to his office from her agent. Once she was chosen for Claire, he made it clear how demanding the job would be. “I told her in our first meeting that this was going to be an even bigger responsibility and workload than the normal TV lead," he writes. "Because the story was being told from Claire's point of view, Cait was going to be in every scene, every day for months, which is an extraordinary amount of work, far beyond what most actors are ever asked to do."

Moore's warning didn't faze Balfe. Writes Moore, "After she met with the president of Starz... and it was clear that she was going to land the role, I walked her to the elevator and just before the doors closed on her, I said 'Your life is about to change forever,' and she gave me a grin that was both thrilled and slightly nervous. I never saw her hesitate after that."

She's never hesitated before. As Balfe prepares to say goodbye to L.A. (for now, she thinks back to her early days in the city, trying to convince casting directors that she was more than just a model. "I went on many, many, many, many auditions that were Hot Girl No. 2 — you wanna shoot yourself," she says, laughing. "But, you know, I'm very lucky that l was even getting those auditions in the beginning. And it toughens you up. At least for me, to have that fuel to prove people wrong—it definitely spurs me on and makes me wanna work harder." Then she smiles conspiratorially. "And shove it to them."

Backstage 2

Remember… I told her in our first meeting that this was going to be an even bigger responsibility and workload than the normal TV lead. — Ronald D Moore

[skeletal-r3xie]

My story:

Hi, this is the story of my eddie Sheeran (😭) and how I got here right now.

I had a lot of trauma when I was a child, which I won’t get into right now, but the thoughts started when I was about 11. It was never serious, I’d exercise for like 2 days and then be like nah fuck this I want a burger 🤪 lmao.

I started engaging in the behaviours of it when I was 14, in 2019. Again, it was never something I was able to stick with, and I’d be over it within a few days. 2020 was a weird year for me, with the lockdown, I was determined to finally do it, that was also the year I did my longest fast of 6 days (never again😮‍💨). But it was a year of constant binging and starving, I saw zero progress. I didn’t know myself, what I could or couldn’t handle. I thought I could just eat max 500 cals every day and it would be sustainable (it wasn’t lmao), it always ended in a binge.

Then began 2021, the worst year of my life for all my mental illnesses. I was in an abusive relationship at this point, bullied by people, and I felt completely alone. And this was when my personal worst relapse began. I was at my HW of 58-60kgs, and at first, it began as a regular diet (August 2021), and then towards late September that year, I knew it wasn’t just a regular diet when I began restricting heavily again, and exercising daily. I lost 10-12kgs, and was 48kgs by the end of October 2021. I felt amazing, I felt so powerful and happy that I was finally, after all these years, I was getting somewhere. Yep well those feelings were wiped away real quick the following November, which was again, a month of constant binging and starving. It was awful, I felt like I had lost complete control, like it was someone possessing my body and making me eat all those pizza’s, when it wasn’t, it was all me, and only me. December that month was good again, I got back to 48kgs, and then went on a 3 day fast the days before Christmas, when I knew I was going to have to eat food.

Christmas fucked it up for me, and I tried to get back to it for 3 weeks, but in January 2022, I decided I was sick of this disorder, and tried to recover for good.

And I did, 3 years of no restricting, no thoughts, nothing, it was nice.

I got diagnosed with ADHD later that year in December 2022, and was put on elvanse (relevant later on).

Fast forward to jan 2024, and I got my first job at a fast food place (ironic much?), and I hated it, I was treated awfully by managers and co-workers. For context, there was an ADHD med shortage in the UK from August 2023, till march 2024, in this time period I had gained a lot of weight and was back to my SW of 58kgs, I then lost a bit of it again once I got my meds back, and this one girl noticed, and she would non stop brag and brag and brag about how she had lost 3 stone, her pants didn’t fit her anymore, and she was losing lots of weight. This triggered me, but I was recovered at this point, so I just left the job and went to find a new one.

And here we are now. So what triggered me so badly for me to turn back to it after 3 whole years? One of my managers in my new workplace. My new workplace is so so much better, the co workers are wonderful, friendly people. But I’m getting micromanaged by one of my managers, I won’t go into the details, but it’s really fucking infuriating. And because I have severe social anxiety irl, I didn’t want to mention it to him, so I turned back to Ana as a way of regaining my lost control in that workplace. I’m over the situation now, but I can’t stop, I don’t want to stop, I love feeling like this, and I think I’ll be like this for the rest of my life.

That’s my story, I’m sorry for how long this, I tried to shorten it as much as I could, thank you for reading lovelies!! <3

[thelunarfairy]

Hanako-kun's Big Puzzle

I've been racking my brains over Hanako-kun for a long time now, trying to decipher the story is a lot of fun, but when it started dealing with temporal paradox I realized it would have more work than I imagined.

Generally, stories that change time tend to make our heads hard to understand. I like to divide it into parts and by characters and their importance, for example, I think Tsuchigomori is a very important piece here. A guy who can change someone's future (of course, having to sacrifice himself to do so) but this is a skill with a certain importance and that I don't see almost anyone talking about. Maybe it will be used later.

Each character placed here seems to have an importance in the story, it wasn't done for nothing, it has a reason. We have Nene's mysterious family, at the same time Teru's family with his equally mysterious father, Aoi who descends from the Kannagis, Mitsuba, who mysteriously found Tsukasa, I don't need to mention Sakura or Natsuhiko here.

They all guide us along a path in history, each one has a piece of it in their hands, besides of course, the Yugi twins and their "pet monster" who lives under the house.

The red house itself and the school are important, the details. I've been thinking about all of this and how the story would be summarized so far.

Kou's family, as has been said many times, is a family of exorcists who have been in the business since the time when supernaturals were called Yokais. At some point in time, we arrived at the village of Kannagis, considering that there was a God who should be obeyed, in the sense of being fed within a certain period of time, if this is not done, several supernaturals spread and start to devour the village people.

Considering that the Minamotos helped protect and create the Kannagis, it means that they still did not have enough power to destroy this "God" and made this agreement to sacrifice young women to him.

We follow Sumire's life, which makes it clear to us how it happens. At some point in time, the last Kannagi in the village was thrown, a young boy. If no others came later, it can only mean that the village ended up being destroyed or the people were devoured, or at best, they left.

There is still a possibility that the Minamoto managed to seal the passage. After that we have a big time jump. A family that went to live in a house that occasionally whispered to one of the boys. A boy who got too involved with this creature in order to help his older brother. And Tsukasa taught him to speak, even if he didn't mean to.

He became the new sacrifice right after the last Kannagi. There he started to live in a parallel place that changes and transforms whenever he sees fit, going back and forth in time whenever he wants. But we don't know if other supernaturals came out of there like they did in the village.

After 6 months Tsukasa returns with the creature. Then the house becomes cursed. Then we have Amane, the mysterious older brother who took his brother's life and his own. We don't know much about what happened afterwards, except that no one can inhabit it anymore because it consumed everyone who entered it.

All the people were still there, as Tsukasa said, they were the new Kannagis. So they had to ban it and the Minamoto knew of its existence. Teru mentions that the Kannagi boy being there is geographically strange. Which indicates the connection between the supernatural passages. Everything under the house is a well that leads to an unowned boundary, an empty place.

But nothing indicates that it was always there, the house changes the way it wants. So perhaps it has a direct connection with the village, which in this case is the current school.

And this is where I wanted to get to. The school, one of the most important characters in this story. It was here that the Minamoto seem to have had the most work. We have the famous boundaries, where some specific supernaturals were chosen (perhaps?) to take care of the passages between the far edge and the next.

Each of them is there to keep the peace, doesn't that seem like a deal made between humans and supernaturals? The Minamotos seem to have done this before. The Yorishiros are seals, and the only difference between them and Hanako's seal is the color, so are they containment seals?

Perhaps to keep that God contained and under control. In exchange for this, other supernaturals could roam freely as long as they did not harm humans and humans would leave them alone just the same.

But then we have Amane, who transforms into Hanako, we don't know how, but it seems there are signs that this was problematic. He gave the Minamoto a lot of work. What was Hanako trying to do? Was he aware of what he did?

His and Tsukasa's connection with this God is somewhat problematic. The twins could have been trying to free him for some purpose but were stopped.

Perhaps the creature took control of his body, and when Hanako was sealed, he returned to his original form and somehow managed to become one of the guardians of the boundary.

But Tsukasa doesn't seem to agree with that. Even during that same period, the relatives of the Minamoto brothers never showed a sign of life, at least to us and Teru has an unconditional hatred for all supernaturals, it is very obvious that it is because they did something that apparently hurt him a lot.

Because I still believe that his mother died from something related to the supernatural, but Teru doesn't tell Kou. Where are the other Minamotos?

In short, it is as if the Minamotos had sealed the "God" and forced some supernaturals to take care of it, the Yorishiros have the appearance of everything that their owner loves and wants to protect, so they themselves would not destroy it, guaranteeing that they will fulfill His duty is to maintain peace in the world of humans.

But each time a yorishiro is removed, more supernaturals come to the side of the living, as we saw on the day of separation. So Tsukasa wants to remove the seals, and when he removes them, Sakura said that everything will be destroyed.

A revenge from this God?

Aidairo left the information in the air that if Hanako's seal comes out, the world will fall into disarray. Kou said that his grandmother had trouble sealing Hanako, she couldn't exorcise him, to show how strong he was.

So, the creature could be sealed in Hanako. Remove all the yorishiros so that the passages are clear, remove Hanako's seal so that God can return and perhaps take revenge.

Yashiro, the Kannagi who has purifying powers, we don't know anything about her or her family, but we know that she has this ability, there was a complete chapter of the manga just to show this.

Tsukasa seems to play with her from the beginning, on purpose as if he were guiding her towards Hanako, he spies on them and doesn't interrupt when there are even romantic moments between them, as if he wanted that to happen, he stays until the end to confirm that the things are going as he wishes.

Like in this scene, where Tsusukasa appears right after the Hanene kiss, he was there from the beginning watching them.

He wants to use her as a bargaining chip, to manipulate Hanako, and in order for him to manipulate him, he would have to take away from him what he loves most at the moment. Or, the other possibility would be that he would use her so that in the end she would save Amane, even if she died in the process.

There's no way to know. Tsukasa probably won't be there to see it, as he's Hanako's yorishiro. But we don't know what Yashiro can actually offer us, but as our protagonist, she has an important and crucial role here.

Tsukasa has a strong connection with the creature and Hanako seems to be interested in the wish that this God can conceive if the seals are removed.

So we have the owners of the boundaries. Each with its own history and importance. Yako exists to show us how any supernatural can transform into something totally different from what it really is, but there is still its essence in it, perhaps a future reference to Hanako, who shows signs of being something totally different from what we imagine or even the way we look at Tsukasa.

Tsuchigomori, shows us not only Amane's past, but that he has a key that can be used, "the curator can change the future" considering that time is relevant to the story, this should be important in the future.

Each mystery has a narrative function in the story, whether to tell us something about the past or to prepare us for what will come in the future. Now we are in the arc of the clock, of time, where perhaps they will show us why time is important here.

Why is Yashiro getting Amane's key important? Tsukasa did everything so that she would purposely find him there, at that moment, he even left her with Natsuhiko so he could guide her, even if he pretended not to.

The person moving the story forward is Tsukasa. And he uses Nene for this, he wants to change the past, and of course, for Amane and perhaps for the creature that lives inside him.

But what does Tsukasa really want? No one knows about his desires, what he likes, his dreams (if he had any) everything is always about Amane.

Maybe the creature is using Tsukasa to free itself, the boy helps him, removes the seals, frees him, and lets the supernaturals do what they want. So he uses Yashiro so that maybe she can save her brother when this God is freed, she dies and in return he gets a wish, a wish that goes to Hanako, perhaps?

And what would Hanako want? Save Tsukasa? Save Yashiro? Back in time? Never existed?

There's no way to know. The information is still incomplete. And the role of Sakura and Natuhiko? And Mitsuba? There are still pieces missing from this puzzle, so everything I said could just be a delusion in my head, which even makes some sense.

There are other details that I haven't mentioned here so as not to prolong, but that's what I've interpreted so far. There's still the romance, the possessiveness, their motivations, there are still pieces missing.

[felassan]

Illuminating tweet series by a former Anthem developer [source].

They mention elsewhere in the thread that Anthem was developed in 15 months. Per the tweets, before this period, it spent 5-6 years in pre-production, lacking a clear vision and with an ever-changing vision; in game development this causes a lot of working and reworking. The devs were talented and all passionate about the game, but they were building "a new IP from nothing on an engine that was meant for an FPS with half a team that had never created live service games".

They further elaborate in more tweets that:

EA had their reasons to release it early but were stupid and the devs' team "had to pay the price". EA learned a lot from the development of Anthem but whether they applied those learnings is unknown

Jason Schreier's article (How BioWare's Anthem Went Wrong) was all 100% true at one point in development or other, and only scratches the surface

How did they manage to ship it in 15 months? The dev mentions working about 90 hours a week for 15 months. Many other devs on the team were also doing so and they think that others were doing 90 hours a week prior to the 15 month mark. "It wasn't sustainable and not even a position we should have been in." "I'm fine now, but not without damage. Contributed to the cost of my marriage and I needed therapy for a while after that endeavor." "It was a lot of morale hits on a personal level and a team level. Everyone had their own way of dealing with it." "There was a lot of pissed, stressed, rinse, repeat. It was a vicious cycle." "I guarantee we could have put something out in Unreal. Working in Frostbite was rough." After launch the team got death threats because of drop rates

Anthem was delayed as it had missing features, lack of polish and bugs that needed fixing. Another big problem that it faced was that it had lots of scope creep. "There were really high expectations for this game and the team felt it. We always were trying to push for cool features, etc.. So I think we could have done it if we kept our scope creep in check."

The main team was focused on getting the game out in a functional state. "We really needed another 1-2 studios to make endgame content while we were finishing up the game."

After launch it was all hands on deck to stabilize the game. Content and features that they wanted to do consequently kept getting deprioritized. A major focus they were trying to address at launch was all the server issues. "I think the shittiest part about this, besides no endgame and replay ability, was that during development, management was putting in gating mechanics to 'lengthen' the time it took to complete the story. IIRC it was removed from the final version after backlash from devs."

"It was a great team effort to get the controls how we shipped. We went through many iterations and it was super rough in the beginning. I know the team was really happy where the controls landed too. We actually took in a lot of feedback from the EA game changers."

A Twitter user asked "When you say it wasn’t ready, was that always communicated with other members of the team i.e. publishers?". The dev replied "I think it was ignored/denied from leadership. There is a story there, but I will refrain."

A transparent retrospective on Anthem/its development will likely never come to light because of both current and former devs still being under NDA

The dev has an assumption that if they didn't release Anthem, BioWare would have been dissolved. They also observe that BioWare just wasn't good at multi-project development, which is hard. Most people at BioWare didn't believe in "BioWare Magic". There was and maybe still is a lot of stress and politics surrounding Anthem from the development and publishing side (a problem not specific to Anthem). The dev mentioned that it was both an EA failure and a BioWare upper management failure. "I actually don't think it was all EA's fault. A developer and publisher is supposed to be a healthy relationship of trust and transparency. It's a 2 way street which i don't think was satisfied on either side."

Re: who made the decision to release the game in the state it was, some of them left and some remain at BioWare

On Anthem 2.0/Anthem Next, the game was really fun and was going in the right direction. The team had hit a really great milestone, when EA canned it. It was a different development team driving Anthem 2.0. The team were gutted when it was cancelled

(please note it's always best to read tweets and the like in full and in context, from the original source)

[source]

[nei-ning]

Me earlier this week: God, my acne has been so strong and bad for days! Even washing my face hasn't helped with a soap for acne. All these have to be because of my hormones and upcoming periods next week.

Me today: My acne seems to be getting even worse! What the hell!? I hate this! ... ... ... I think I will google what makes acne more worse. Google: "People with acne should avoid sugar."

Me: ... ... ... *realizes I've eat 6 x 200g big chocolate bars this week* ... ... ... NO WONDER MY FACE BLOOMS!

But yeah, in all seriousness, I KNOW I eat too much chocolate. Hell, I basically LIVE by eating ONLY chocolate. I don't eat junk food almost at all. I might buy mini vegetable burger once a month when I visit nearby city. Pizza and kebab I eat rarely too. Maybe one pizza per month (from store) with a luck so to say.

Anyway, all that sugar and fat makes my skin all over the body greasy and I hate that - not to mention those acne pimples on my cheeks and jawlines (right side worse) AND those darn pimples are spreading behind my ears and towards the back of my neck!

I'm also overweight. I calculated one day I have 20-25 kilos too much weight. I weight 88 kilos, while being 163cm tall, while I should weight 65 at max. But hell, I would be happy even with 70 or 75 kilos!

I KNOW I've brought this to myself, I'm not asking anyone's pity etc. I'm just ranting out my own frustration about myself, lack of self-control, self-discipline etc. I just sit and eat chocolate, and sleep. That's honestly all I do. Every day, around the clock. I had motivation more when I had Verti with me but when he died... it all left me too. Nothing in my life hasn't feel the same anymore after his death - and it soon has been a year since he passed.

I want to try to drop chocolate out next month. I mean I have been able to be without any sweets in the past and back then I felt SO ALIVE and so good! I want to feel that again. I also want to try to start to eat more vegetables, fruits etc. next month. The issue just, sadly, is that most things give me so horrible heartburn that it honestly feels like my stomach is burning out through my body like some acid. I am not kidding. That is strong and horrible feeling and no meds help to it. That's why my eating is very limited.

If anyone wants to drop me any tips, hints, recipes etc. about healthier food, vegetarian food, taking care of acne (no meds! I asked meds once from nurse and she just said: "Taking care of acne is long and hard process.". She refused to treat me) and exercise tips or motivation, please, leave a comment or contact me via chat!

Thanks!