#now im square one again and i feel like im going to black out or anything else worse. no chest pains

[hatsukeii]

think fast / childhood bsf!tsukshima kei x reader

genre(s): childhood best friends x soulmates???? past lives and normal people by sally rooney coded im a sally rooney MEATRIDER!! angsty, gut-wrenching longing, bittersweet / hopeful ending so it's not all bad!! nostalgia is going to carry this fic so hard it's going to be a fun, fun time...

warning(s): eventual smut!! all characters are aged up to 21!!MDNI (at least up until the observatory)!! wrap it before you tap it!! (sorry kids), female leaning anatomy because smut but pronouns are gn all throughout and honestly you could read it as gn anyways:)) dead dad warning (my dad is NOT dead this was just convenient to kick off the thing), i fw the timeline of the world??? pretend flip phones were still in use in like 2012 or something idk

wc: ~6.3k

tldr; time has a way of reminding Kei of its presence, and its escape. you are the reminder it has been sending to him for six years.

Fate: A power believed to cause and control all events, so that one cannot change or determine the way things will happen. 

It is a sunny afternoon when you step foot into Sendai, Miyagi. A beautiful day of golden warmth beaming onto petals of pink, red, and white, wrapped in coffee-stained newspapers and tied together with a spool of twine. The bouquet lies on browning grass, a contemptible reminder of the time that has passed since your last appearance here, six years ago, and you crouch down to the ground. Now face to face with the engraving of a full name on a slab of polished granite, you hesitate. Your father lived in a language that you can no longer speak, died in a country you no longer call your home. When you whisper blessings and apologies at the gravestone in broken Japanese and slurred syllables, you sound like a stranger. A stranger who sits in a graveyard at noon, with nothing but a bouquet from the nearby florist in hand, and a promise, stuttered out in half-decent Japanese, to return again the next year. 

When a second bouquet falls to the ground behind you, and you turn around, Tsukishima Kei thinks this is what English speakers like you would call fate. He’s a little taller now, and bulkier too, and you have to crane your head higher than you remember just to meet his eyes. You don’t recognise the glasses he dons anymore, the black rectangles from his teenage years swapped out for rounded squares and silver frames. But he has a towel in his hand, a towel that has his initials poorly stitched into the corner with red string. You wonder if the matching one he made you, eleven years ago, is collecting dust somewhere in your dormitory, halfway across the world. 

“You’re back.”

“It’s been a while, Kei.”

You can no longer differentiate Japanese syllables clearly, and your statement jumbles into nonsense in your head. Kei hears the English woven into your accent in the way you roll your tongue like foreigners do, and in the odd intonations that don’t exist in your mother tongue. You don’t even remember your father’s dislike for white flowers. London has truly done a number on you. 

“Why? Why now?”

You bite your nail, a persistent habit that Kei frowns at. He picks up his flowers, and steps towards the gravestone, just close enough for your knee to brush against him for a moment. The bouquet in his hand is wrapped in plastic and filled with red and pink, the white from your own sticking out like a sore thumb when he places his flowers gently on the grass beside yours. He tosses the towel in his hand, opening it up against his palm, and you take it from him. If you cannot get the language right, or the flowers, this is the least you can do. Cobwebs stick to the fabric as you sweep at the granite slab, watching soot and dust fall to the grass. The curves and dips of the gravestone are familiar once again, and you dig the towel into every nook and cranny. You feel Kei’s body shift, before his knee is touching yours and his face is finally level with your peripheral vision. He glances at you, waiting. His knees bounce in anticipation. 

“Never had the chance, college has been a lot.”

Your phone rings as you finish cleaning. The ringtone is familiar, unchanged from when you used to have a flip phone, in fact. Kei hums along to the jingle for the four seconds that the call is left unanswered, before it cuts off into a flurry of English. He catches something about research, and a thesis, his shabby English unable to fill in any more than that. He’s never known you were interested in research, let alone what it is that you’re researching. All he’s known is your aspiration of becoming a librarian when you were six, and his promise to borrow books from you for the museum that he swore he would one day work at. Now, he works at the museum, sorts antique scripts and yellowed books into cabinets and display shelves. He does not borrow books from you. Now, you talk, but nothing makes sense to him.

You end the call, mumbling foreign curses as you shove your phone back into your pocket. Clicking your tongue, you turn to Kei, who stares at the flowers on the ground. He pushes his glasses up when they slide down his nose, and you resist the familiar urge to nag him about buying the right frames for his face. 

“Yeah, college has been mostly phone calls like that.”

He nods, a half-hearted chuckle huffing from his nose. He’s forgotten what it’s like to sit at a graveyard with somebody else, the annual reminder of a lonely death replaced by another this year as you dust off his towel, and drop it onto his thigh. He swipes it from his leg, folding it into quarters and sliding it into his pocket. 

“So you choose to come now, without a word? Not even a heads up? Six years after leaving?” Kei’s voice rises at each question, the same way it did six years ago when you broke the news of leaving Japan to him. This hurts him to ask, that much you can still recognise.

“I would have come sooner if I had the chance. I’ve missed everyone so much.”

You pluck a petal from a white flower in your bouquet, then another, until all that remains is the naked bulb, and scatter them onto the ground beside you. Perhaps the next person that’s been buried under six feet of dirt used to have a liking for them. Kei remains unmoving, throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. His knee stops bouncing. 

“How long will you stay for?”

“Today, then Friday and Saturday too. Flight back is Sunday night.”

Six years of waiting, and this is what it amounts to. A weekend and a bit. Despite that, Kei still thinks this must be fate, in all the languages that it exists in. Six years of life, and love, and hurt, all to be condensed into four measly days. Yet as Kei pushes himself off the ground, dusting his trousers off, he still thinks that this unlikely, yet conveniently timed visit must be the answer to his pleas for your return. That this must be some heavenly reward, good karma for visiting your father’s grave annually on your behalf. You watch him turn to leave, and he calls out to you as he walks away from your father’s grave. 

“Everyone’s at Hinata’s old place tomorrow. You should come by if you can.”

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Change: to replace (something) with something else, especially something of the same kind that is newer or better; substitute one thing for (another).

All it takes is one coincidental exchange of panicked glances at the first throw up of the night for you and Kei to leave together. Hinata slurs a drunken farewell, tries to embrace you as you slip your sneakers on at the door, and you make a note to yourself that you really do not miss most of the people here, spare for the volleyball team. Kei waits at the door, holding it open for when you finally shake Hinata off of your back, and step through. The night is chilly, the warmth in your skin from the indoor heating system emanating into the midnight air. You kick rocks along the pavement as you walk, scattering pigeons that remain awake and active at this time, and Kei smiles at your antics. You still hate birds, and you still remember the trick he taught you when you were nine for chasing away pigeons that flocked around you for food. 

“Who are you staying with?”

“My mom’s.”

The road leads the two of you to a high school. Kei has not come back to Karasuno since graduation. You squint in the dark, scanning the school, and you don’t recognise the new building that stands in place of the old auditorium. He watches you crouch at the plaque next to the front gate, tracing the letters engraved on it with the pad of your thumb. Some part of him blames Karasuno for being a bad place to you, the other parts blame himself for not being good enough to outweigh it.

“It’s changed.”

“Everything has.”

You rattle the locked entrance, the chain and padlock hitting against cold metal. It won’t open, so you look up through the gap of the gate. Six years ago, on that rooftop, was where you stood over a cold lunch box and emptied convenience store drinks, back against the wire fence, saying to Kei, I’m leaving tomorrow. On that day, you had packed yakisoba for his lunch, and nothing for yourself. He could barely respond to your announcement, only dropping his chopsticks and asking you, why? You told him something along the lines of being an expat, and a better school for what you wanted, all in the fluent Japanese you once spoke. Nothing made sense to him anyways. 

When you turn back to him, his hands are in the pockets of his jacket, and his nose is red from the cold air. You stand beside him, staring aimlessly at Karasuno from outside its barriers. 

“Do you still play volleyball?” 

“Yeah, Sendai Frogs.”

You hum, and then wonder why you only asked tonight, and why you’re surprised. He shrugs, clouds of white puffing from his mouth when he breathes out. He tries to blow a wisp of hair away from his face, and you suddenly realise that his hair has grown too, along with his height. It fails, and he tries again. You reach up to swipe at his bangs, before running your fingers backwards through his hair. It parts itself as you lift your hands from his head, and falls into place neatly. A cold breeze whizzes by, and undoes your work, sending strands of gold into his face once again. You snicker a little.

“You know, you could ask my mom to trim it for you like she used to.”

“Nah, I prefer this.”

It isn’t until you turn to look at him properly that you see how much time has passed. He likes his hair longer these days, the choppy hairdo of his teenage years now nothing but an old preference, and you wonder if he is still a loyal customer of your mother’s salon. When he pulls his hands from his pockets and blows hot air into them, calluses line the bases of his fingers, the blisters of his high school years hardened by trials of time and effort. There are bags under his eyes, eyes that are now a little rounder, and softer too. When he speaks, monotone and tired, you realise his snarkiness has dissipated into general frustration. You stare until his eyes dart to you, and turn away quickly, ashamed. Leaving Karasuno has taken your hand and led you to a purpose that you never knew you were capable of. You wonder what the hell it has done to Tsukishima Kei. 

“It looks good.”

He breathes in sharply, then exhales with a huff, shoulders relaxing as he stuffs his hands back into his pockets. You suddenly realise that your fingers have gone numb from the cold of the night, fingertips tingling like a million frost-bitten needles poking into your skin. You also stuff your hands into your pockets, rubbing your fingers against each other to generate some heat. Then, Kei’s looping his arm around yours, and pulling you away from Karasuno High School. He keeps on his straight path, and you stumble along behind his leaping steps. When you round a corner, the night breeze grows into something less imperturbable, and more vicious, pushing the two of you forward from behind in slashes of cold. The sea is near. 

“Is this the beach we used to go to?”

“You still remember it.”

He drags you down a flight of stairs to Fukanuma Beach, and the misty sea air rushes to your head. When he leads you to the shoreline, you hesitate. The sea has been off limits since the two of you were five, a regulation put in place in remembrance of the Great Sendai Earthquake. An earthquake that saw Kei and yourself hunched beneath the same table in the middle of class, huddled next to each other as you cried for your parents. Now, in your final years of college, as the water slips beneath the soles of his shoes, pushing and receding in layers of aqua and bubbles of white, it seems that time has slipped by just as easily too. Time, that saw the fading of the earthquake’s devastation, despite the loss of thousands, including your father. Time, that frayed the string connecting yourself to Kei as you moved through life halfway across the world from Japan. Time, that passes through you like sand spilling between your fingers on a beach you once thought you knew, but has changed like the unprohibited water that seems to push further up into the shore at each tidal wave. 

“They lifted the ban?”

“A few months ago, yeah.”

You step into the next wave that fizzles into foam, and the water crashes into the toe of your shoes. Crouching, you push mounds of wet sand into a cylinder, flattening the top and pushing divots in equal intervals. Kei joins, moulding shorter ones beside your own and drawing windows into the side. You finish, and he stands, smiling at the creation. You cover the top, afraid he will stomp on it, a trademark of Kei’s whenever you built sandcastles with him in childhood. Instead, he laughs, and walks further into the water. When you get up to join him, the hems of his trousers are soaked, shoes also covered in a sheen of wetness. You hop over the castle, and the next wave that comes sends its foundations crumbling back into the sea. 

“We used to do that. You’d destroy it every time.”

Kei chuckles, and looks back to see the half destroyed castle. Clicking his tongue, he returns to the rubble, and you watch his hands push mounds of sand towards what is left standing. 

“I’d always build a better one for you afterwards though.”

He dusts his hands off when he finishes, and the waves fizzle out just before they hit the two-tiered sandcastle. You sniff, holding your arms close to your chest. When Kei looks up, he feels like the summer of being seven years old again, smiling at you with his missing front tooth when you sniffle and laugh at the improved castle he’s put together for you. Now, it is winter. He only grins with the corners of his lips. You only sniff because it’s cold. 

“Kei.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s really been a while. How have you been?”

He steps over the castle towards you, careful not to break it. Your hair blows in your face from the beach breeze and your eyes squint from the sand that flies into the air, and Kei takes it all in when you’re face to face with him. When he opens his mouth, some selfish part of him thinks about casting his words into shackles of regret, so heavy that they weigh you down and keep you in Japan, in Sendai, on this beach, somewhere close to him.

“Do you want to stay the night? Like you used to?”

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Nostalgia: A sentimental longing, or wistful yearning for a return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition.

Kei does not take you to his family house. He leads you up stairs that make no sense, and hallways that stretch on forever, until you finally reach his flat. He wipes his shoes on the doormat, throws his keys into a glass bowl upon entry, and hangs his jacket on a hook mounted to his front door instead of the coathanger that used to stand beside it. You look around, searching for the shells you once collected in a jar for his tenth birthday. When your eyes land on a jar filled with conches and cowries, you let go of a breath you were unaware of holding. They sit on the top of his bookshelf, above textbooks and file organisers. A knot forms in your throat at the realisation that the jar sits alone in its compartment, with nothing beside it. You’ve done the same to the jazz vinyl Kei gifted you at the airport before your departure. You don’t realise that he’s disappeared somewhere as you stare at the shells, until a shirt and a pair of shorts are thrown into your chest. He stands at the entrance to a hallway, donning sweatpants and an old hoodie, one that’s clearly a size too small. The pocket is lousily sewn on, a result of a mishap that occurred when you had borrowed it once. He doesn’t know that you spent the night learning to sew fabric just to fix it.

“Change. It’ll be more comfortable.”

You scurry through the hallway to his bathroom, pulling the shirt and shorts on hastily, before balling up your clothes and returning to the living room. Kei sits at his couch, now bound in leather instead of fabric, and clicks at the television. You join beside him, legs splaying across his own subconsciously. He doesn’t move. He stops at a movie, one you’ve seen hundreds of times before at his old house. It drones on in the background as he watches in silence, his arms now draped over your knees. The first time he watched this movie, it was in his old home, cross-legged on the carpeted ground with you on the couch behind him. Your hands used to press into his shoulders from above, shake them whenever your favourite scenes came on, squeeze them when you laughed until tears rolled from your eyes. Now that his new flat lacks a rug, he’s willing to settle with your legs on his own. Flashing lights illuminate the dark room in sequences that you can still recall perfectly from memory. He watches the movie. You watch him. 

“Have you been doing good, Kei?”

Turning to you, he pushes his glasses up into his hair, leaning further back. You shuffle closer, legs bending as your shoulder digs into the leather couch. A strand of blond falls into his face, and you lift his glasses to tuck it back, before smoothing your hands over his mess of hair, combing and pushing with your fingertips.The words from the television melt into gibberish when he hums in satisfaction, what is unspoken between you two is more glaring than ever.

“I’ve been okay.” He cuts off, then finds himself thinking of what to tell you first, amongst the recollections of life that rush through his head. “Started working at the museum a couple years ago.” He wishes that you still remember the building, where the marble floors squeaked beneath your slippers, and glass panels lined the walls, hiding away treasures and artefacts that have withstood centuries, maybe even eons of erosion and weathering.

You nod, mind filling with the many museum visits you had with him there. He’s always liked the dinosaurs more than the shells. When you breathe out a chuckle, he knows you’re recalling the time he almost pissed himself at a life-sized, moving tyrannosaurus rex model. 

“What about you?”

“Research. I’ve been doing research about…” you sign in the air, searching for the Japanese words that have slipped from your mind. Surrendering, you whip your phone out, searching for a translation. 

“Archaeology?”

“Yeah, that. No more librarian dreams for me. More dinosaurs, though.”

A smile finds its way onto Kei’s face, one that softens his cheeks and flattens his eyes into crescents. He wonders if amongst the silver plaques and digital displays, your work is engraved in there somewhere. If each time he explains something to some bright-eyed child, who scuttles around the museum as you and him once did, he is unknowingly speaking in your language, translated until he can decipher the thoughts that run through your mind in your research, your memories, your dreams too. 

“Maybe it’s in the museum somewhere. I’m willing to bet.”

“I hope it is.”

Your conversation fizzles back into silence, and the characters on the television do too. The two on the screen sit in a field, mere inches apart. The two of you look at each other, your knees now leaned into Kei’s chest and one of his arms draped along the back of the couch. When he pulls his glasses back to his eyes, and studies you all over again, it hits him that you really haven’t changed all that much, even after your six year separation. Six years older, with the exhaustion of a functioning adult, but you still gnaw on your cheeks, and tilt your head as you ask questions. Six years apart, and you are still you, who taught him to build sandcastles, and introduced him to his favourite movie, and fixed his hair whenever it stuck up in stubborn peaks of gold. When you let your eyes close, and drop your head onto his shoulder, you wait for lost time to tick backwards, until you’re on the rooftop with him once again. In this version of time, you blush when you tell him that you’ve chosen to stay in Japan instead. Pushing your head further into the crook of his neck, Kei’s chin reaches over to rest on the top of your crown. The credits of the movie roll in the background, and you mumble into the skin of his pulse. 

“Can you take me there? I’ve missed it.” Your words send vibrations down his spine, sending his head into a frenzy as he pushes his hands against the couch harder. 

“The museum?” It will be closed for the weekend, but Kei nods anyway. He’s sure he can find his way in through the back. Maybe he’ll take you to the fossils again, let you run your fingers along smooth amber and stone engravings. Perhaps he could show you the new exhibitions, ones that you won’t miss this time, as you have for the past six years. For now, he thinks he will let you sleep on his shoulder, listen to your soft snores, tremble at every hot breath that fans onto his neck. 

The credits roll to the end, and come to a stop. Kei removes his arm from the couch to grab the remote from his coffee table. He rewinds the movie to the start.

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思慕 [しぼ, shibo]: yearning; deep longing, especially when accompanied by tenderness or sadness.

On the final night of your stay, you learn that Kei still giggles when he breaks rules, as he drags you through the back entrance of the closed museum. He maneuvers through hallways of antique paintings and repurposed junk, slips into dark stairwells illuminated by the flashlight of his phone, traps your wrist between his fingers and chuckles to himself, shaking his head as he takes you higher, and higher, and higher. You’ve lost count of how many flights of stairs have gone by when he taps his keycard against a sensor by a backdoor, and pushes it open. The museum observatory, once a mess of bamboo scaffolding and green covers, now allows silver moonlight through its glass dome, boasting billions of iridescent stars nestled in a blanket of hazy midnight. A decade of your anticipation has resulted in a circular space, hundreds of plush recliners lining the circumference of the room, and you wonder how many eyes have watched the stars from those seats before you ever had the chance to. When Kei leads you further into the observatory, you step foot onto the north star plastered on the ground in the centre of the room, where nothing but a telescope remains in a ten-foot radius. He takes a spot on the ground, back pressed against the cushioned edge of a seat.

“I figured this is the best spot. Better than any of the seats, actually.” He plants his feet on the ground, bending his knees and spreading them just wide enough for you to sit in between. You cross your legs, wagging them up and down as your hands hold your shins, and he lowers his legs, stretching them out in front of him. Leaning back, your spine hits a spot between his ribs, the same way it did when you were thirteen, and fourteen, and fifteen, staring at stars from the grass of his backyard. You pity the visitors that have yet to discover the simplicity of stargazing from the ground, hands pushed into the ground for stability, dirt and moisture seeping into the fabric of clothing. Pushing further into him, his breathing is heavy against your back, chest rising in rhythmic ups and downs. For what feels like hours, you sit in silence, eyes trained on your fingers that pick and fiddle. At the realisation that you haven’t looked at the stars in years, something bubbles in your stomach, pervasive, relentless. When you finally loll your head backwards to fall on his shoulder, and the tip of Kei’s nose grazes your cheekbone, you wonder how long he has not looked at the stars for as well. 

“Why’d you stop calling?” His sudden question sends a haze rushing into your head.

You swallow thickly. If the passage of time were a sin, you’d burden it with all your explanations. Telling him that now would seem like some lousy excuse.

“It stopped going to your line a year after I left.” You pause, searching for the right words to use amidst the sea of Japanese and English that you must now sort out. “I only stopped trying after another month, the voicemail just said your number was no longer in use.” 

Kei wishes he could dig his fingers into his chest and rip his heart out. If only he hadn’t stupidly broken his phone that night, five years ago during volleyball practice. If only he had checked his pockets before entering the court, just as he has done hundreds of times before. If only he had this, if only he had that, he might just torment himself for the rest of his life. His breath hitches, shoulder freezing rigid. Time does not differentiate between the knowing and oblivious. It slips and leaks beneath the noses of all that it encompasses, and it is but the cautious few that know to grab it, and join in on its journey. He knows now that he is not one of them, not after he’s cursed at the passage of time over and over and over for his own blunder.

“I broke my phone in a game. Got a new one so the number changed as well, fuck me.”

You laugh dryly into the empty observatory. The occasional twinkling of the stars above do nothing to make his explanation any easier. You think you’ll blame it all on doomed fate that you’ve spent five years trying to find somebody that felt the same as Kei did, to no avail. Blame it on cursed luck that you’ve clawed and grabbed at anything familiar enough, archaeology, jazz vinyls, old DVDs of the movie shared between two, all to remind yourself that he too, was once within grasp. You say nothing, because you don’t see a reason to. Instead, you push your head into his neck, drown in the scent of his cologne, ease yourself into his now grown body. You don’t see him wipe a hand across his mouth, then rub his eyes with pinched fingers. 

When Kei decides to speak again, it is what feels like another hour later. He’s readjusted his posture about fifty times by now, arms removed from the ground and draped over your shoulders. The sensation of your hair against his skin is suddenly more prominent than ever when your hands find his own, holding them closer to yourself.

“If I didn’t find you at the grave, would you have looked for me?” His question is heavy, weighing his chest down as the words leave his throat in a hesitant cluster. You turn to look at him, and your eyes linger on his own when you squeeze his hands once, twice, then a third time. 

“I’ve been looking for five years. Nobody else could take me home.” Your heart rushes to your mouth at your confession, and the bob of Kei’s throat does not go unnoticed. One of his hands comes up to hold your shoulder, pushing it towards himself until your body twists, rubbing against his. You let go of him, pressing your fingers into the ground between his legs instead, and he breathes out shakily, his windpipe suddenly cleared of its uncertainty.

“You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Yes, I am.”

His fingers slide down to grab your wrist, before going numb completely. His unoccupied hand peels itself from the floor and settles on the side of your waist. Your mouth goes dry when Kei breathes, hot and heavy, his eyes travelling to every inch of you. A bout of heat rushes from his chest to his head, and his legs, and his arms too. The air between the two of you is thick, and it sends your head into a feverish blur. The ground collapses beneath your knees as they shift to press into the floor, and you come face to face with Tsukishima Kei, who prefers his hair parted in bangs on the sides of his face, and wears silver frames instead of black ones. Tsukishima Kei, who has been visiting your father’s grave on your behalf for six years, and still plays volleyball even in his adulthood. Tsukishima Kei, whose eyes are finally finished with their ventures across your figure, that is pushed up against him on the ground of an observatory, and is learning whatever he can about you when his fingers tighten around your wrists and he kisses you without a warning. 

Once, at the young, innocent age of seven, Tsukishima Kei kissed you in this museum. You had run a little too fast, stepped on your loose laces and fallen onto the ground face first. You sulked at a bench facing some random painting of melting clocks, red dots scattered across a purple patch right beneath your eye. When he kneeled in front of you to grab your face, and pressed his lips onto the bruise for a fraction of a second, he must have kissed the pain away, mending the leaking capillaries beneath your skin as he separated from your cheeks with a pop. Now, he pulls against your wrists to push himself closer, traps you in the embrace of his legs around the back of your thighs, wheezes and stutters against your lips at the lack of oxygen in his lungs. His head is running in circles instead of straight paths, and everything is spinning. When your hands reach to grab at his shirt, and palm at his chest, he pulls away only to rip his glasses off and toss them to the ground. Beneath the glow of the moon from above, everything but your flushed cheeks and swollen lips is a blur. You take half a breath in, before it is interrupted by Kei’s palms pulling you in by the sides of your neck, and his mouth on yours again. At seven years old, he ripped bruising pain away from your face with a kiss. At twenty-one, he forces his pain, and grief, and regret rushing into your heart by pushing himself against you, fingers tangling themselves into your hair as he kisses you, desperate, almost distressed. Every tug at your lips is a confession left unspoken, every time Kei opens his mouth apologies spill out into you in choked groans and sighs. At the sensation of his hand leaving your neck, your arm searches for him aimlessly, before he’s palming at you through your pants. He swallows your sudden gasp, and your fingers grip his wrist until your knuckles go white. 

“Did you ever like me?” You can do nothing but choke out a question against his lips, one you’ve pondered about, day in and day out, since your departure from Japan.

By the way that Kei nods frantically, you’re certain that this is what six years of separation has amounted to. 

Sparing no time, your fingers tug at the hem of his boxers, pulling them down just enough to release himself from the fabric constraints. He does the same, hands roaming until they find the waistband of your pants to push them down, fingers tugging your underwear to the side with a flick. He grabs you by the waist beneath your shirt, yanks your body towards him until something feels right and he can’t help but let out a trembling sigh into your shoulder. And when you finally begin to sink yourself onto him, agonisingly slow, you wish that you had never left Japan in the first place. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you wish that you could spend the rest of your life in this observatory with Kei, your hands wrapped around the back of his sweat-slicked neck. 

When he pulls you down to push further, more pervasively, you fall into him, head hanging over his shoulder and arms squeezing around his neck. His inexperienced hands rock you back and forth against his hips, pulling a flurry of gasps and moans from your throat. He lets himself learn how you taste when his teeth tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it down to expose your bare shoulder. His lips latch onto your collarbone, biting and sucking a trail of red marks up to the side of your neck. You shudder at his advances, and he studies the way your walls flutter around him, the erratic pulses that draw stars around his head, how your nails dig into his shoulders, and send his mind into a senseless orbit. 

When he pushes and pulls at you a little harder, you whimper his name into his ear, reduced to nothing but a babbling mess that nibbles at his neck and kisses up his jaw feverishly. First friend, first kiss, first love. The notion that this is another first that Tsukishima Kei has brought upon you sends your mind spiralling. He should have been your first prom date, first roommate, first dance too. If only you hadn’t left him first. You push your head off his shoulder, hands moving to hold his face instead. A wave of pleasure washes over you when his palm presses against your stomach, and you hang your head low again, a shaky sigh released from your chest. 

When you look up, there are tears in Kei’s eyes. He rolls his head back onto the plush seat behind him, hands lifting you off himself fully, just to push you back onto him again. You collapse into his body, palms pressing against his heaving chest. 

“I- fuck! I fucking loved you! I still do!” He speaks it into the glass ceiling as one hand reaches for his face. He wipes his palm across his eyes, only for more tears to form. They are uncontrollable, relentless as he turns his head away from you. He isn’t sure how he will live again tomorrow, not when he’s finally come to a reckoning with the pang in his chest at every thought of you. He thinks he could die the second you step onto that flight back to London, ripped away from him once again. The reality that he cannot stay buried inside you for any longer than the next couple of minutes haunts him to no end, the idea of being separated from you a second time unbearable to even imagine. When he turns back to see you, head on his chest and fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, he decides that reality can wait until he’s finished with you. 

“I love you too- shit, Kei! I never stopped!”

You rut against his hips senselessly now, chasing some unfamiliar high as your vision fades to black and you scream his name until your throat goes hoarse. Kei barely gives you time to breathe, before he’s coming undone from right beneath you, shuddering and groaning as you relax against his body and go limp. He holds you against him, one hand pushing your head against his chest and the other wrapped around your back. He tucks your damp hair behind your ears, places kisses along your temple so he can hear the hums of satisfaction that sound from your curled lips. 

“Can you stay forever?” He mumbles into your hair, and you turn to press your ear against his chest. His heart pounds as he pushes his cheek into the crown of your head, and your hands crawl up his chest to wrap around his neck. When he looks up through the glass ceiling, the stars have not moved one bit.

“I’ll find you again, wherever you are.”

Time may slip away from Tsukishima Kei like petals that fall off the buds of flowers, water that seeps beneath the soles of his sneakers, stardust that hovers above the atmosphere. Yet he has learned that it has a way of always coming back to remind him of its presence, and its escape. You are the reminder that it has been sending to him for six years.

author's note:

ERM! never writing nsfw again that's for sure but this piece defs had some stuff that i was very, VERY proud of coming up with!! sorry to my minor moots who probably won't read this in its entirety bc of the big MDNI warning... but I honestly don't know how to feel about this piece as a whole... i was super excited to write it but i think i got a little impatient towards the end esp since im always writing at like 3am LOL but i hope you guys liked it anyways!!! i tried really hard to make the dynamic work and i hope it did!!!!!

also ps they exchange numbers again js a little extra bonus that i didn’t get to put into the actual thing

anyways tags!!

@staraxiaa @chuuya-brainrot @akaakeis @laughingfcx @writingsofanomnivore @t0rchknight @bailey-reeds @wyrcan @hiraethwa @fiannee @catsoupki @anonymity-222 @wishi-selfships @kuroppiii

ok love u guys thank u for being patient

[terrminallycapricious]

((an accidental thing happened on the 2nd, i had coffee and it was way too much even tho it was a medium size, the caffiene content was nearly 300mg and i have high blood pressure (i usualyl can drink up to 150mg at MOST before i get issues) and i nearly blacked out 3 times

i havent felt good since, so my focus is really bad right now, and my dizziness wont leave. so how im feeling is very scary and making me have anxiety which is raising my bp more. so im sorry im even more spotty with focus and responses. i really hope i can feel better again, im so scared))

[skythealmighty]

man. there are so many object shows out there. I NEED TO CATCH UP ON SO MANY why are the4e so many anyway Exclamation Mark (NOT AB) im killing you. he would get bullied off tumblr

#rocket talk #roc save #NOT THE ANIMATIC BATTLE ONE that ones fine #i mean the one in my header #hes an asshole #why do i keep accidentally hitting the number keys lately

(7 notes)

📉 storyboard-but-better Follow

i cant believe my contestants are so pissy over the second challenge still!!!! it was a coherent challenge i think "survive me killing you" is pretty straightforward!!! besides theyre fine now >:/

⏰ timeisatool Follow

Maybe it's becausw you killed them?

📉 storyboard-but-better Follow

well thats stupid

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

I KNOW RIGHT!! my old contestants got SO pissy when i killed th3m!! just because theres no recovery... 😒

⏰ timeisatool Follow

You dont have recovery????

⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow

arent u supposed to be dead

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

well im NOT so

❗ black-and-red Follow

Ugh, I haven't even killed anyone that much and they're still pissy! Honestly... just do the challenges and you'll be fine! I only threatened them..

⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow

well i thought i killed circle but ig not! and square but nobody else died idk why everuones so afraid of me... whats so wrong w wanting to make a perfect object show?

⏰ timeisatool Follow

Um

🔥 betterheatsflamesman Follow

yeah theres nothing wrong with that! you gotta do what you gotta do for your object show

⏰ timeisatool Follow

😰😰😰😰😰

⏰ timeisatool Follow

I want to leave this group...

#i thought we were all just supposed to be wacky and weird 😰😰 #mom come pick me up im scared...

(34 notes)

🔥🔃 betterheatsflamesman Follow reblogged 🪔 slay-style-queen

🪔 slay-style-queen Follow

Hey guys, just managed to get sponsored with my object show idea!!! (No thanks to you Lip Stick lol) wish me luck!! Also go keep an eye out on Village of Objects Official :D

🪔 slay-style-queen Follow

what the FUCK

🪔 slay-style-queen Follow

oh my god how do you all stay sane actually

4️⃣ four-therecord Follow

we don't! welcome to the club

🪔 slay-style-queen Follow

im never doing this again

#:)

(4,294 notes)

📻 annie-annie-ooh Follow

Who's Animatic?

#It's Your Fridge DJ! #I appreciate all the lovemail and the concern! ❤ #I don't understand some of the asks but thank you anyway!

(725 notes)

🧪🔃 test-tubular Follow reblogged 💥 fans-fantastic-features

🫵 have-you-heard-of-this-os Follow

Have YOU heard of:

🫵 have-you-heard-of-this-os Follow

Please stop debating on whether or not this "counts" as an object show, this was requested by an anon. If you want to do that on your own time on your own blog, feel free!

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

SORRY ABOUT THAT SJEHSKEB will move i promise 🙏

anyWAY on another note i miss this showww 😭 i was so intrigued about it but i guess i understand its cancellation... if anyone wants to come up with a rewrite w me hmu my ao3 is in my desc!!!!

⭐ everybody-smile-smile-smile Follow

just as long as you clarify its unofficial!! (:

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

its on ao3 ofc its unofficial

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

WAIT A GODDAMN SECON

#Fan we were /on/ an object show and technically famous I'm not sure why you're surprised at this point #Also get off your phone we're at Purgatory Mansion

(11,374 notes)

anonymous asked: hey greeny can you say trans rights for everyone out there

🟢 greenyguy Follow

trans rights AND trans wrongs. even if you like burger king i still support you <3

#burger king sucks ass tho dont do that to urself

(34,193 notes)

💥 fans-fantastic-features asked: im SO sorry for the sudden reply earlier, up until your post i thought hfjone was just some weird wild experimental show?? then again i shouldnt be surprised if happy star themselves is on this goddamn site (also sorry in advance for my friend TT sending you asks about alternate universes. shes a science nerd of all types and needs data or sm) if you want i can tell you what i know about your situation in a private chat, ive done a lot of deep dive analysis posts on my blog too and trust me when i say a LOT of the internet wants to help free you and everyone else you have plenty of help available spotty replies tho im investigating smth

🎒 liam-plecak Follow

I... yeah, I'd like that. Thanks.

(34 notes)

anonymous asked: battery ui is kind of already jailed but still

🔒 your-fav-would-be-jailed Follow

Battery from Ultimate Insanity would be jailed!

🔋 theft-and-battery Follow

Yeah

#Why did someone earlier send in that Walkie Talkie person? #I approve of the Blender submission though #Hate that guy

(12 notes)

🎒🔃 liam-plecak Follow reblogged 💥 fans-fantastic-features

🕹 fire-cartoon-schtick Follow

cant have shit in this fuckass hotel 😒😒😒 lens just died 😔😔

🕹 fire-cartoon-schtick Follow

#WHAT THE FUCK #DONT JUST DROP SMTH LIKE THAT AND DIP #ARE YOU OKAY?? #ARE YOU TALKING ABT A GAME???

hi! rhanks for the concern! 😁 i am unfortunately not talking about a game lens is actually dead please help me (dms r open 🙏🙏)

#Since I've gotten a lot of followers recently I feel like I should boost this #I'm busy with my own issues but maybe someone else can help?

(5,204 notes)

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

i want my SHOW BACK i want my CO HOSTS BACK i want calculatory DEAD i only MILDLY HATE happy star i dont KNOW WHAT ELSE TO COMPLAIN ABOUT

🥝 gela-not-jelly Follow

🫵 Fanny kinnie

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

who the FUCK is fanny

#im CIRCLE not a goddamn FAN #who even names themselves fanny anyway

(382 notes)

⚪battleforcircle asked: oml spiderman pointing meme

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

you sent me this FIFTEEN TIMES get OUT of my ASKBOX!!!!

📉 storyboard-but-better Follow

why are there two of you...

⚪ fuckingcircles Follow

theres only ONE of me i dont know who this IS!!

⚪battleforcircle Follow

theres three of us just three of us

#idk why either tbh #tumblr just recommended his acc to me one day #he seems fun to annoy tho so ive taken it upon myself to do so #tee hee

(89 notes)

📶 she-walkie-on-my-talkie-till Follow

Hey so why is a known criminal on Tumblr?

📶 she-walkie-on-my-talkie-till Follow

Hello???

[hanwiore]

you were just so…cute.

Sitting on the couch with your legs under you as you stroked the end of you pink skirt, two barbie ponytails with a swoop you just gotten done earlier today, that nanami paid for. White cami shirt and a pink cardigan, you were adorable but such a very bad girl.

“Daddy, it was a accident- i swear it!” Your eyes looked wide as you look up at the man, tom ford button down and a nice fitted tie over his neck. Nanami was just so clean…so expensive looking. Your thighs clench.

Oh your were a very…bad girl.

“Are you always causing accidents that require you cussing at me like some crazy woman?” His voice rang out in the quiet big house. Your hands fumbled with the edge of the white couch, a frown gracing your lips. “N-no but it was just…” your eyebrows drew close.

You were frustrated that’s all, frustrated that the nail tech didn’t do right. Frustrated that nanami didn’t have time to go in there for you to address the issue like he did everytime you disliked something.

Then he the nerve to call you a spoiled brat which made you cuss at him.

“Well I wouldn’t be fucking spoiled if you didn’t make me like this!”

Is what you said which was crazy because, even before nanami you were a spoiled little thing.

Not understanding what no meant, or not today, or not right now.

Tears start burning your eyes, it’s just not fair!

“I-i just didn’t, i-i just don’t like em’ da-daddy!” You look at your nails, the index finger not shaped right, not square enough. “I told you we can fix them tomorrow but you want to throw a fit like I haven’t taught you shit baby.” He mumbled as his hand move to the back of your knee that was covered from the back of thighs.

Strong enough to pull your legs from under and that has you back flying back into the couch and skirt flying up to show your pink panties.

“D-daddy, im so-so sorry.” You sniffle and whine because you hate when nanami is mad at you, hates when he sees you differently then being his good little angel. Then suddenly he grips your face, thumb pushing in on one side as the others pushed in on the other. “Shhh, daddy knows baby. He always know.” And thats true.

Cause he knew exactly how to fuck you brain dead with just his fingers.

Legs spread wide, toes clenching in your pink socks with white frill’s at the top, your head leaned back against the sofa, finger digging into nanami’s strong arm that hand veins all around them as three fingers shoved deep into your wet tight pussy.

“G-god, oh god d-daddy!” You mewl and whine, biting your pouty lip and god you looked so cute.

Nanami looking at the way sweat glistening slightly around your neck. Your gold necklace he got you a week prior to meeting him at the first dinner date. Which was a year ago. Your nipples were hard under the shirt, wet circling around it when you sucked them through the shirt. Eyes going down to your trembling things that were soaked, you were just so cute.

He groans and place your legs on his shoulder, kissing your calf, moving his fingers forward to tough the spongey spot in you, rubbing which made you moan unexpectedly loud. “Good job baby, she so fucking tight. And she’s fuckin’ talking to me too baby. You hear it?” He moans infront of your face. You nodded enthusiastically. Stupidly.

“Yes, yes, yes yes yes yes yes.” You were just so dumb! Moving your hands behind his neck and through his disheveled hair. “Gonna cum daddy, hm can i cum? F-feels so good.” You whine, looking at his eyes, he looked so carefree. But his hard dick that was trapped in his black slacks was pushed against your thigh.

“You think you deserve hm? You think you deserve to cum on my fingers?.” And there you go nodding again because you didn’t give a fuck that you messed up a little earlier, cumming was more important to you right now.

His fingers slid out and you cried.

“No! Daddy st-stop it’s not f-funny.” But nanami wasn’t laughing. Cause it wasn’t funny which is why he told you to make your self cum on your own fingers cause you didn’t deserve his.

And tears began to fall cause you hated that, wanted his and his only. “B-but.” He cuts you off swiftly. “No. Cum on your own fingers. And i meant it.” He pulls up off you slightly, now standing up with both hands on each of your foot. Thumbs digging into the heel of it. You cute little manicured fingers fall to your clit, you look at his face and start rubbing it.

His face was enough to get you off anyways.

His blonde hair, and eyebrows that frowned slightly “oh” you gasped as your hips moved in circular motion against your fingers, thinking his finger doing it. His fingers were better and the though made you pout. Your eyes travel to his neck, you first initial on his gold necklace, his good fucking hard body you can see against his white button up shirt. “Oh gosh..” you mumble and close your eyes.

“Look at me baby.” And you eyes dart open, squelch squelch squelch as your fingers became more aggressive, more needy. Now your eyes was on his bulge. It was so thick, pants tight around his thighs.

You can just imagine his dick, the dick that can be rubbing against your clit instead of his fingers, “you almost there aren’t you sweetheart? Boutta cum on those cute fingers hm?” Your eyes were teary, listening to nanami on half a mind.

“D-daddy, oh my…daddy!” Your thoughts were going wild, his hands holding your legs open as they shook uncontrollably. You felt it, the clench in your stomach as you began sobbing, just the thought of his dick alone was making you cum. “Ca-can i cum? I’ll be so good daddy, will never c-cuss at you aga-again! I wanna cum s’ bad !” You words were jumbled but he understood you.

He bent down slightly moving your fingers away so his hard dick that was still hiding in his pants can push on your puffy clit, you whimpered, moving your hips up to fuck yourself against that hard bulge. “That’s it baby, i know.” His hips moves forward against you, he pecks your lips softly, then your cheek, and sucks your neck nastily. “Cum on my pants baby, show me how needy you are.”

Your arms circle around his neck and you whined so loudly, hips bucking, your breath labored. “Cummingcummingcummingcumming.” “Daddy!daddynghhhhhhdaddy!”

You fucking soaked his pants and sofa, your fingers squeezing his hair and you start mumbling unintelligible sentences. He groans and keeps moving his hips against yours, “i-its sensitive.”

“I know baby but your gonna help me cum too right?”

And you did, more then once.

[neptunesopening]

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

summary: megumi founds out your friends are horrible

warnings: black coded reader, mentions of fighting

a/n - based off fyf by elhae (listen it’s so good)

“megumi let’s go over there please” you tugged his sleeve and he nodded and you both walked in the direction of the cute antique shop. you saw one of your friends and you walked over to her.

“hey y/n, what are you doing here? who’s this?” your friend looked megumi up and down and looked back at you. “oh this is megumi, my boyfriend and we’re doing some shopping today.” you smiled at him and he looked at your friend.

the way they looked him up and down didn’t feel right. “megumi this is f/n (friend’s name)” you said and he said a monotone hi back. “he’s not very chatty” f/n said. you laughed and nodded, “not really, but we’re gonna look around the store. bye and stay in touch!”

your friend nodded at you and you walked in the direction of the porcelain statues.

2 days later

you and megumi were eating out at a restaurant for your anniversary. you had gotten seated and ordered when f/n and another one of your friends showed up to say hi. “oh so this is megumi that f/n told me about. hi there megumi.” they waved at megumi and he just did a wave back.

they started giggling and you wondered why they were laughing. what was funny? you would like to laugh too. they said goodbye and went back to their table.

megumi had left to go to the bathroom and he was stopped by f/n. “hey megumi, you should really leave y/n. i can give you more than they can.” they ran their hand down his chest and he slapped it off.

“what the hell is wrong with you? aren’t you guys friends?” he stepped back disgusted by the actions. “it’s ok, they’ll get over it after a while.” he pushed them out of the way and sneered. “you’re a horrible human being, get out of my sight.”

megumi went back to the table fuming and you put your hand on his. “what’s wrong?” you asked and he looked at you. “your so called “friend” hit on me, told me to leave you and they could give me more than you could.”

now you were mad also cause who in their right mind who do such a thing to someone they considered their friend? your marched over to their table and placed a hand on their shoulder

“now what’s your problem? trying to steal megumi? i thought we were friends!” you exclaimed and they turned to you. “we were friends then you secured that hottie somehow and now i want him and i can treat him better than you.” they shrugged and you wanted to knock their face in.

“don’t let me catch you outside of here, if i do. i’m not going to hesitate to beat your face in.” you said and walked back to megumi. “we’re eating this food and leaving. not staying a second longer.” you said angry as hell cause who did she think she was?

1 week later

you were just at home watching tv until you heard a knock on your door. you got up and saw f/n and you reached up and punched her square in the face. “girl i told you if i saw you outside of here i was beating your face in, either leave or im gonna show you what another one feels like.” you said and they opened their mouth to say something.

“i’m sorry for trying to hit on megumi.” they said and you laughed. “you’re only sorry cause you got caught. if you didn’t get caught would you be sorry?” you asked cracking your knuckles. “probably not, i was just here to make amends.” they laughed and you swung again.

you gave her about 5 punches and pushed her away from your house. “don’t show up to my house ever again or else.” you shut the door right in her beaten up face.

does this give off the angry black woman stereotype or

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: Kicking - Bishop Losa x Reader

Tagging: @fanfic-n-tabulous @anime-weeb-4-life @keyweegirlie @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @est1887 @oklahomapeach @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @adaydreamaway08 @spookyboogyuniverse @librarian1002 @thanossexual @kishie8 @fleureeee @saltyunicorn079 @thebaileybugle @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @doggirlforever @justreblogginfics @skyesthebomb @beccabarba @legally-a-bastard @trublu2u @@lora21 @kmc1989 @jp1019 @fanfic-n-tabulous @just-a-throw-away @kabloswrld

Can be read as stand alone or a companion piece to:

Black Satin (NSFW) - Bishop discovers a surprise Christmas gift.

Gingerbread - Bishop comes home to a problem.

Snow - Bishop talks to you about something that's been on his mind.

Miracle - You and Bishop get an extra Christmas gift this year.

Hitting the Slow Dance Bingo Square

The first time Bishop feels his baby kick is during Coco and Stitche’s wedding reception. The two of you are swaying together on the dance floor, his grizzled cheek pressed against yours, eyes closed as the music serenades you. There’s no better feeling in the world than this, having you pressed up against him, the baby residing in the space between you.

You’re five months pregnant at this point, just starting to show. He spends his evenings singing lullabies to his daughter in Spanish, his lips ghosting over your skin before he gets distracted by other things.

It’s when the song changes that the baby starts to react. The band switches to something with a faster pace and he feels a tiny dig against his navel.

“Oh.” You say as you tilt your head to look up at him. “I think she’s kicking.”

You take his hand in yours, pressing his palm flat against the baby bump and he laughs when he feels the small nudge. He spends the next few minutes following his daughter’s movements before the song changes and the baby goes quiet.

“She’s strong.” He says fondly as he draws you into his arms once more. “She’s going to be exactly like you.”

“She could end up a hellion like you.” You counter and Bishop grumbles.

“I hope not.”

The last thing he wants for his daughter is for her to adopt his personality traits, he was wild as a teenager and his biggest fear is that his daughter will follow in his footsteps.

“You turned out alright in the end.” You remind him, your fingertips trailing over that sensitive little spot at the nape of his neck, the one that releases all his tension.

“With a little help.” He smiles, his forehead coming to rest upon yours.

Bishop has always been convinced that you saved him. He was a functioning alcoholic when he met you, smoking forty a day and running drugs and guns up and down the country. He’d expected to be dead before sixty, through a bullet or bike accident. He was careless with his own life, there hadn’t been much to live for after Aiden had died. He’d been in a state of depression for over eight years before he started to see the sun again.

Now he’s on the board of the community centre, he has a home, a partner, a baby on the way. He doesn’t drink anymore, he’s cut his smoking right down, he’s trying to quit before Luna arrives. The job is less risky because the club has gone legit. He’s happier than he’s ever been and he has you to thank for that.

“You saved my life.” He tells you as he cradles you close. “You saved my god damned life.”

Love Bishop? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Want more Bishop? Read his masterlist here!

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[watchmegetobsessed]

JUST HOW FAST THE NIGHT CHANGES (part 2)

A/N: okay okay part 2! here we are!! my progress about the story is not as fast as i would like it but im trying my best!! feedback is always appreciated!

PAIRING: Harry x High-School-Best-Friend!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

SERIES MASTERPOST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry has thought of seeing you again so many times in the past months, he imagined this moment when he lied in bed, counting the days until he meets you again after all this time, but seeing you in real life is nothing like his daydreams. 

You’ve changed so much, yet he can see the version of you he last saw clearly too. Your facial features have matured, your hair is longer than he was expecting, though he only saw pictures of you from the past years. You have a black wrap-around dress on that’s hugging your curves that look absolutely delicious. 

It’s pretty obvious you’ve put on some weight and judging from the way you nervously keep fixing your dress every other second, it’s something you feel insecure about, but Harry cannot take his eyes off you and he forces himself to tame his already wandering thoughts. 

“Dude, close your mouth!” Beckham walks up to Harry, patting his shoulder to snap him out of his trance. 

“Shut up,” he mumbles under his breath, averting his eyes from you, but it only takes a few seconds before his gaze returns.

“Go say hi,” Beckham encourages him, but he shakes his head no.

“Later. I don’t… I don’t think I’m the person she wants to see the most.”

Beckham laughs as he walks away with his beer while Harry returns to his seat that’s not as close to yours as he would want it to be, but at least you’re on opposite sides, so he can keep an eye on you as the dinner finally starts. He can faintly hear your voice over the chatter every time you speak up or laugh at something and he wishes he was part of the conversation as well, sitting next to you instead of sneakily stealing glances.

Sometime after the main course and before the dessert it’s suggested that everyone say a short little summary of what happened to them in the past decade, and the round starts, everyone curiously listening to what their old pals are saying. 

“Um, hi,” Harry chuckles awkwardly when it’s his turn. “Well, I’ve had a pretty busy couple of years,” he grins, making everyone laugh. “I don’t know what I can say that you can’t read online, but let’s pretend you know nothing. So I just published my third solo album not long ago, I’ve been really enjoying experimenting with music on my own, though I loved my time in the band as well. I’m working on new stuff lately and I still have part of the tour coming up. I’m doing good, it’s all good,” he nods to himself before smiling around and giving the word to the next person. 

While he is interested in what everyone has to say, he is mostly looking forward to your turn finally so he can shamelessly stare at you while you talk.

“Hi everyone,” you smile nervously around, squaring your shoulders as attention turns to you. “Um, I don’t really know where to start. I started marketing at college, but I didn’t really like it and I was learning coding at the time so I thought I would start a career in that field. I went to an intense training so now I mostly make websites, but I do other stuff too. Um… I live here in London as most of us do now,” she chuckles, the class sharing her smile. “Nothing… Nothing else to share, really,” she adds in a mumble and looks to her right, signaling that she is done talking, it’s time for the next person.

It wasn’t enough. Harry wants to know more, everything if that’s possible and if it wasn’t for all the people around him, he would stand up and just sit beside you, asking you dozens of questions.

But he has to sit and wait patiently, pretend like you’re not the only one he is interested in the bunch. 

An entire hour passes by before he sees you slip away from the table and out to the back patio. Part of him tells him he shouldn’t follow you, but he just can’t stop himself. He excuses himself from the conversation and heads after you, hoping no one will notice him missing inside.

In the summer time there are tables outside as well with fairy lights creating a cozy mood, but it’s too cold right now to sit outside, so it’s only used by smokers occasionally. When Harry steps out as he slips into his coat he spots you right away in the corner, scrolling on your phone as you’re probably having a break. Even when you were younger, you often told him your social batteries easily run out and those were the times Harry gladly sat outside with you until you felt comfortable enough to go back inside. Seems like not much has changed. 

“Hey,” he breathes out and watches your eyes widen when you realize he came after you.

“H-Hi!” you clear your throat, slipping your phone back into your pocket.

“Having a social break?” he smiles warmly, standing only a few feet away from you.

“Yeah,” you chuckle.

There’s a bit of a pause where you’re not too sure how to act with Harry right next to you and he is stunned as well. There’s so much he wants to say and do, but he doesn’t know how you’d react. He doesn’t know about a lot of things when it comes to you but he is determined to change that. 

“So… how have you been?” he asks at last, the ure to speak up taking over the silence.

“Um, I’m fine. Fine, yeah,” you nod. 

“Do you still work at that civil organization, or…?”

“You know I worked there?” you ask, the surprise is pretty apparent on your face. 

“Of course,” he smiles softly, a blush tinting his cheeks. 

“Uh, I’m not there anymore. I work for a bigger company.”

“But still in marketing?”

“Yes,” you nod. “I can do more designing here on the side, that’s why I switched.”

“You like it?”

“It’s good. But work is work, you know, I was never the kind to be obsessed with my job.”

As you say that you realize he can’t know that, because you weren’t talking by the time you started working. It brings the awkwardness right back and he knows he needs to address some things before moving on.

“Y/N, I hope you know I didn’t… I didn’t want us to eventually stop talking. It’s just that so much happened, all at once and I didn’t take all of it the best way either. I should have focused more on my oldest friendships. I’m sorry, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

“It’s fine,” you shake your head with a weak smile. “People have fallouts all the time, it’s natural.”

But it wasn’t supposed to happen to us, Harry wants to say, but he bites his tongue. He shouldn’t bring everything up the first time you see each other.

“But we could start again,” he suggests, holding his breath as he watches your reaction to his words.

“Start again?”

“Yeah. I would… love to catch up with you, hear about everything I missed. Only if you want to tell me about it, of course.”

You stare back at him for way longer than he would have loved it and it convinces him it’s the part where you tell him to fuck off. He wouldn’t be surprised, you haven’t talked in ages and now he is so desperate to reconnect. You have every right not to want him back in your life even if you never had a fight that resulted in the fallout.

He is about to take back what he said, but you finally speak up.

“Okay,” is all you say with a tiny nod. 

He’s shocked, to say the least, even though he was hoping you’d say that. But seeing that small smile on your face is all he needs right now.

“Cool,” he breathes out. The door behind him opens and another guest walks out to have a smoke, making them realize they should probably return to the table. “Look, if you’re free sometime soon, I’m staying until the end of the month. We could have lunch, dinner or even breakfast,” he chuckles. “I would love to see you again and talk. Just the two of us.”

“Alright, I’m in.”

“Cool! Great!” he enthuses, probably more excited than he should be, but it doesn’t matter.

The two of you return to the table soon, no one really noticed that you slipped away, but it leaves Harry with a silly smile on his face that widens every time he looks at you again. Suddenly, he feels like a teenager all over again, he is in that basement with his best mates, just having fun, looking forward to spending some time alone with you.

Your bike rides home together were always his favorites, even the ones when you didn’t exchange a single word. He just loved seeing you by his side, the way you always squinted your eyes when the wind blew harder than usual, how you always checked back at him if he was behind you whenever you were about to cross a road. These are all tiny things that are etched into his memories probably forever.

Sometime towards the end of the evening Bee gathers your little group and asks to talk to you outside. You stand in a circle, everyone eyeing her suspiciously as she tries to hold her smile back, Lucas standing right behind her.

“So, there is something that we would like to share with you guys,” Bee starts and without any time to waste, she pulls out a ring from her pocket and slips it on her finger, holding it up, her grins stretching from ear to ear.

“Oh my God!” Chloe gasps as she realizes what it means. “Congratulations!”

It’s a shock, but not really. Bee and Lucas became an official item sometime before graduation, had a short break during college since Lucas studied abroad and long distance took a toll on them, but they found their way back not long after. Engagement was definitely the next step after they moved together three years ago and adopted a dog just last year.

But still, it’s shocking for Harry to see his old pals move on in life together. There’s a pang of jealousy in him too, but it’s overruled by the happiness.

There’s a round of hugs and congratulations before Bee reaches for her purse and pulls out a stack of envelopes.

“We want to invite you all to the wedding that’s gonna be held in June. You guys have been here from the start and it only feels right if you’re there with us on our big day.”

“Man, I might even start crying!” Joshua jokes, but Harry can see the shimmer in his eyes as he takes his invitation.

“Don’t get too mushy,” Lucas chuckles, patting his shoulder. 

Chloe is already talking Bee’s ears off about the wedding and offers to help with basically anything, while you’re examining the invitation card with a soft smile on your lips.

Harry’s excitement runs even higher when he realizes it’s gonna be another occasion where he’ll see you, though he plans to meet a few more times until June.

The night stretches long, it’s way past midnight when the last guests get ready to leave. Harry has been keeping an eye on you all evening in case you wanted to slip out, but you stayed until the end and he doesn’t hesitate to take this opportunity.

“Do you have a ride home?” he asks, when you’re putting your coat on.

“Um, I’ll just call an Uber or something.”

“We can share, I already called one.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

In front of the building everyone says their goodbye, heading their own way and you are left alone with Harry on the curb as the car pulls up.

“So when will you be free for that breakfast slash lunch slash dinner?” he asks, not wanting to miss the chance to see you again.

“I have to check my work schedule, but… I’ll text you, okay?” “Promise?” he arches his eyebrows.

“I promise.”

“Okay. Just so you know, if you ghost me I will come for you.”

“So you’re that desperate?” you chuckle and he just shrugs with a smirk.

“I’m just eager to start over and reconnect with you.”

“I’ll text you, don’t worry. My days are just… a bit hectic lately.”

He wants to ask you about it, would be even better if you just opened up about whatever it is that’s happening in your life, but he’s fine with what he got as well. He doesn’t want to be greedy. 

You make some small talk on the way to your place and when the car comes to a stop Harry is already looking forward to seeing you again. 

“Don’t forget about texting me!” he reminds you again, to which you exhale sharply.

“I actually keep my promises, Harry. Goodnight,” you say before hopping out of the car, leaving him too stunned to speak and the car drives away before he could even react. 

It was like a stab in his chest, your words ring in his head all the way until he arrives home and even after that. 

He pushed too hard. He wanted too much. His nagging was supposed to be just a joke, but apparently, he should have been more careful, because your reaction was sharp and painful. But he deserved it, he knows, because what you said… that was a reminder that he fucked up and he can’t just start all over again so quick and easily.

He wants to go back in time and take the words back, everything was going so well up until that point and now it feels like a setback. While in the shower he is composing a text to apologize for overstepping your boundaries and he is just about to type it out when his phone rings, your name on display. 

“Hi!” he answers, shocked to receive a call from you but also thankful that he can apologize.

“Hey.” Your voice is weak, but a lot lighter than it was in the car when you parted ways. “I’m sorry, Harry.”

“No, no, no, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he shakes his head, sitting on the edge of the bed and he wishes he could talk to you in person, see your face.

“It was rude. You’ve been so nice all evening, even asking to reconnect and I was… I was an asshole,” you sigh and he can imagine you closing your eyes and pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I kinda deserved it. It’s been long, Y/N, I shouldn’t have expected to just go back to being best friends. I pushed too hard, so if anyone has to be sorry, it should be me.”

There’s a long pause at your end of the call, Harry is dreading to hear your voice and make sure he didn’t fucked up royally.

“I’ve been kind of… moody lately. I should think about my words before talking.”

“Do you… want to talk about it?” he asks, but then realizes that it might be over the line too. “Only if you want to, you don’t have to share anything with me, I totally understand it.”

“Maybe some other time,” you quietly answer and Harry swallows down his greed to know more. “But… I’m free on Friday,” you add and his heart skips a beat.

“Friday is awesome!” he answers without even thinking through his schedule. If he has anything that day, he’ll surely cancel, nothing can be more important than meeting you again. “We could go out for dinner?”

“Can we… Is it possible not to go out?”

“Yeah,” he nods, though his chest tightens. Does this mean you don’t want to be seen out with him? He wouldn’t blame you, it would put you in the spotlight instantly. “Want to come over? I could cook something.”

“That sounds good. See you on Friday, Harry.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he manages to say before the call ends.

A week has never felt longer. Every waking moment was spent by counting the days until Harry could finally see you again. He planned out the whole evening the day after the reunion, from the meal to the outfit he would wear, he knew it all by Monday rolled around so he had to spend five days anxiously waiting for Friday. 

On Wednesday he has a few drinks with just the boys, Joshua, Beckham and Lucas, cheering on Lucas’ engagement and having some boytalk. Even though they kept in touch throughout the years, there’s still a lot to share. They are having a great time, lots of laughs and jokes are shared over their beer.

“Alright, I want to talk about something major,” Joshua smirks over his pint, his eyes finding Harry and he already knows it’s gonna be about you.

“Just ask it,” Harry chuckles.

“Can we talk about how you had the heart eyes for Y/N all evening at the reunion?”

“Like a lovesick puppy!” Beckham laughs, patting Harry on the back as he puts up with the teasing.

“It was nice seeing her again, what can I say?” Harry shrugs, but he can’t hold his smirk up, which earns another round of laughter from his friends.

“Oh, it was more than just nice, right?” Lucas grins with a knowing smirk.

“We shouldn’t be surprised though, you were so in love with her back then,” Beck scoffs as he leans back in his seat, folding his arms over his chest.

“Not in love, I was just…” Harry tries to explain himself, but fails.

“Just in love,” Lucas teases him.

“I might have had a crush on her, I admit. But it’s been a long time, we obviously changed a lot. It was great to reunite with her.”

“And you plan to reunite some more with her soon?” Joshua wiggles his eyebrows. 

“We’re actually meeting on Friday.”

“You little minx!” Beckham laughs. “Will you shoot your shot?”

“We literally just met again after almost a decade. There’s no shot to shoot.”

“Yeah, and maybe it’s better if you’re careful,” Lucas nods, but Harry doesn’t really understand what he meant by that.

“Careful?”

“Yeah, I mean, after what she went through…”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Joshua asks, his gaze flickering between Harry and Lucas.

“What? Tell me what it is!”

“She got a divorce not long ago. Like, about a year ago,” Lucas says, keeping his voice down. 

“Huh? I didn’t even know she was married!”

It feels like a punch in the stomach, how he missed such a major event in your life. Not getting an invitation is one thing, but how did you manage to keep it so secret that he didn’t even know you were engaged?

“She kept it pretty low,” Beckham says. “I mean, the divorce and also the whole relationship.”

“Yeah, I didn’t even know about them until she was engaged,” Joshua shakes his head. 

“And what happened? Why did it end?”

Beckham and Joshua shrug their shoulders, but Lucas seems like he knows something. 

“Lucas? If Bee told you something…”

“I don’t know the whole story, okay? But as far as I know… he cheated on her.”

“Oh fuck,” Harry breathes out, his heart sinking instantly. 

“Pretty rough, yeah. But maybe don’t bring it up until she is ready to share it with you.”

“Yeah, sure,” he nods. 

The night carries on and they talk about anything and everything, but Harry’s mind stays stuck on you. To be more precise, your divorce he knew nothing about. It’s no surprise you are so reserved and moody, it must have been hard for you to go through it. He can only hope you had friends to rely on, Chloe or Bee at last if he wasn’t there for you.

Another thing to add to the list of things he should feel horrible about when it comes to you. 

At the end of the night he offers to share a ride with any of the boys and Beckham accepts, so they leave together. 

“I know it’s eating you away,” Beckham speaks up in the car. 

“Huh?”

“That you didn’t know about her divorce.”

“I wasn’t there for her, Beck. I should have been, but I didn’t even know she was engaged!”

“You weren’t talking, you couldn’t have known.”

“Yeah, but it was my fault we weren’t talking. I should have tried harder and… I should have kept my promise I made to her.”

Silence falls over the car as the passing lights illuminate their faces. Beckham is looking at Harry while Harry is staring straight ahead, his jaw jumping. 

“Look, you’ve made mistakes, it’s fine, totally human. If she is willing to meet you again, I’m sure she is not that mad at you, so it’s a good sign. You… Do you… want to, like… date her?”

Harry presses his lips together, thinking of his answer.

“It’s complicated, but… I think I still have feelings for her,” he admits, finally peeking at his friend. “Is that crazy? I mean, we were kids, can I actually still have… feelings for her?”

“Don’t underestimate your younger self. Look at Lucas. He’s been in love with Bee since forever and now they are getting married.”

Harr hums and nods in agreement, but there’s still a lot he needs to get clear in his head. Whatever it is that he feels for you, he wants to explore it but he also needs to be extremely careful now that he knows what you went through. And what if there’s more to it than the cheating? What if the guy did something else too that left you even more scarred? 

He wants answers, but he needs to be patient and give you time. 

Time, he couldn’t give you before.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[makncheese12]

IM SORRY ANON I LOST YOUR REQUEST TRYING TO MAKE IT😭 but here a request for Stu macher with a bad bitch who will smack a bitch and has anger issues (no ghost face, yet?)

(So cute for him🫶🏻)

Masterlist

Warning: I don’t know how to write about a bad bitch😀, bad writing?

(Gif is not mine)

Stu Macher x badbitch!fem!Reader

oh yes, the black cat to his pitbull/golden retriever

Absolutely in love with you first even if you clearly want him away from you, man won’t stop pursuing until he gets to you

Knows he’s winning you over when you smile and roll your eyes at him

man makes it his mission to see you happy, even when you hit him for being stupid or saying something stupid

of course you’d never hit him seriously, he knows that and laughs or fakes looking hurt everytime

laughs at every snarky comment you say to people and repeats your words

Man knows he has a bad bitch, he’ll see some guy staring and he’ll stick his tongue out and laugh to himself

Loves, loves, loves kissing you.

Don’t like being kissed in public? Alright, he’ll kiss your cheek any chance he can get let it be random, dropping you off to class, or when your upset, he’ll do it.

you never get into actual fights, you just ignore him whenever he’s being extra annoying

man gets so whiny when that happens because he wants your attention and doesn’t like it when you ignore him

will do everything in his power to get a reaction from you let it be a glare, a chest slap. hell, he’ll take a cuss out. As long as he gets a reaction

he’s not the jealous type, but he knows you are (maybe)

there was a random girl in the hall who was obviously flirting with Stu but he didn’t seem to really care nor notice but you did

if looks could kill, her head would be brutally beat into the ground as you stand right behind her

“baby!” He call out as he moves past her and opens his arms to you

he’d pick you up and squeeze you as you flick the girl off, maybe next time you get to yank her by that stupid blonde pony tail

loves when you’re anywhere near him, he just thrives off holding you by your waist

he’s constantly giving you attention and craves the attention from you which you happily give

constantly glaring at Billy waiting for the moment he says something that gives you an opening to punch him square in the nose

and boy does he do it a lot, you got one hit in once and that was the first time you heard him

he had a black eye for a week or two, Stu makes sure to always keep an arm on you just in case you decide it’s time again

Always making a kissy face at you, which you just pinch his lips and he gets pouty

Now you have to give him a kiss, doesn’t matter if you roll your eyes first just do it

loves when you where his clothes, makes him feel special

of course he has to get something too, so you give him your bracelets, necklace, ect.

Never loses anything you give him, he makes sure of it. And takes extra care of it because he knows you’ll be upset if he doesn’t or loses it

Plus, he loves the little things you give him

You can be hesitant at first to give it to him but once you see that he’s always wearing it or doesn’t lose it, you can give him more

cuddles, cuddles, cuddles

Loves cuddles, especially when he gets to lay on your chest and you rub his back, neck and head

That or he’ll lay his head in your lap when your with friends, at a party, or just because he can

Loves when you hold his arm/hand, makes him feel like a gentleman

You only know the soft side of Stu where he’s not as goofy and more so serious

He rants about a lot of things when you two are alone and he feels safe, and you’d gladly listen

He would of course listen to you rant as well, adding his own commentary

“*gasp* no! She didn’t!” “And then what happened?” “Did you hit her?”

Encourages you when you get into fights cause he thinks it’s both funny and hot

He’ll see you across the school yard on top of some random chick and he’s laughing his ass off with the biggest smile

“Look at her go!” “Bet your girlfriend can’t do that!”

Over all loves, trust and supports you through everything and would never change anything about you

Even if you hit him constantly but who knows, he most likely likes it🫶🏻

[kewpidity]

kewpie's slapdash tips and tricks for making moodboards

ive been asked a few times about how i make my moodboards and my MethodTM so here it is!

this is an image heavy post and as detailed and comprehensive as i can possible make it, if you have any questions let me know and i'll help if i can!

also, this is made with sites and apps for desktop- i have no experience editing on mobile so if that's what you're looking for im afraid i cant help you, sorry! ↷↷↷

Choose Your Fighter

let's get right into it- first thing first choose a character, or a ship or a series or whatever! i'll be doing a ship because it's a teeny bit more involved than just a single character or series

the ship will be grim x mandy from the one show

Picking Pictures

obviously the most important part of a moodboard is the Pictures

i use pinterest personally, and finding them on there is usually pretty easy, especially if i have an idea of things i want to include. a lot of people already have boards made up for characters as well, so just searching the character names under the 'board' option will usually get you where you need to go!

but i know some people prefer sources with free to use, royalty free type images, so i included those as well:

pixabay unsplash

you can have as many or as little as you'd like, but personally i prefer the classic 9x9 grid style moodboards, so im obviously gathering 9 photos

as for what pictures to choose, here are some things to ask yourself:

do you have a color scheme you associate with this character/ship? are there any themes that are relevant?

these are the pics i choose for my board- they're raw, unedited, and uncropped, which we'll be changing here in a bit

notice that ive chosen the color scheme of pink, black, and white because that suits them and is also the colors in their actual character palettes

ive also picked some things that feel relevant to the ship and its vibes- mandy is associated with daisies, so i got a picture with a girl with a daisy in her eye, which i also paired with a skull with a flower in its eye socket, bringing them together with a common theme. there are also little black shoes and a bloody knee for mandy, a psythe and what could work for cerberus for grim, and since their ship is kind of gruesome and mean spirited (affectionate) as well as the show having pulpy vibes, i got a heart shaped steak, a pulpy romance/horror cover, and an old horror movie card with their VibesTM

Formatting

now that we have our pictures, its time to figure out the formatting! i went ahead and already did that with the pictures above using a site ipiccy, specifically the 'collage' options

ipiccy

once you press 'collage', you'll open up to this menue, where im choosing the 9x9 grid, but as you can see there are other options there if you wanna use them! then you're gonna press 'add images'

then you add images here (mine are already loaded in):

afterwards, you play around with the placement of the images- its okay if they clip or dont properly fit in the box, this is Only figuring out where you want the pictures to go, we'll place them properly later in a different program

when im placing them i like to consider patterns and shapes- top left square is a 'mandy' square, so bottom right should be a 'grim square', as well as echo each other- in this case the flowers in the eyes thing, and so on, even down to the pointy little shoes and the pointy little sythe this part can be v subjective, so i encourage you to play around until it clicks for you

i hope my scribbles kinda help explain visually what i mean:

also as a small personal tip: when i make moodboards i want to capture the feeling of a character/ship/what have you Without just Saying it. because of that i lean more heavily on the pictures themselves and Only ever use One that has text on it. again this is subjective, but to me its a 'telling vs showing' thing and too many words makes the whole thing feel v cluttered with little room for the actual characters involved

once you're satisfied with your placement, take a screenshot to reference your placement, and then we move on to

PS/Photopea, Templates, Adjustments, and PSDs

this is where we get really into it

firstly, i know most people either dont have PS or are nervous about downloading a cracked version (def do not click this because it is def not a link to older ps files you can dl for free) but luckily there's an extremely comprehensive in-browser option that is totally free called Photopea, which can be found HERE

its basically a 1 to 1 rebuild of the real thing, and since its more accessible i'll be using that to finish up my board!

first, you'll wanna throw your template in there, here's the one im using

once you open it, you also need to open the pics you chose to use- i suggest doing this one at a time to not overcrowd the program

once the pic is open, copy it and paste it over onto the moodboard, and then right click the layer and set it to 'clipping mask' which will keep the pic within the bounds of just the template:

then go over the toolbar on the right, press the 'rectangle select', then right click the board and select 'free transform' to move the picture around freely:

now is where you look at the screenshot you took of the ipiccy placement, and then you simply move the picture in the proper place in the moodboard! you might need to select and cut off the part that doesnt fit neatly into the square

continue doing this until you have it all filled out, and take some time to properly fit the pics (for example, the pic with the text needed to be (to does this is photopea drag around the corners while in 'free transform, and if you dont want it to scale at the same dimensions press 'shift' on the keyboard while you drag, which is what i had to do with the text or the flower-in-the-skull to make it fit properly))

its important that All your layers are properly set to clipping mask, otherwise it'll be all messed up! so it should look like like this when you're done, and hopefully everything will be layered on the board properly, and we end up with this:

you could stop here and be done with it, the entire moodboard can be finished now, but i like to tweak things like contrast and value and levels, which are found here in the 'image' section at the top- ive been as tutorial-esque as i can be so far, but this one really comes down to playing around with it and making adjustments until you like the outcome (each layer can be changed individually)

i try to make it so everything feels even- the blacks match and the whites match and none of them feel particularly lighter or darker or more saturated than the others

so we go from this:

to this (if you cant tell the difference i didnt do it well ljksdf, its helped further along and made more obvious by the next step) :

and Finally the secret sauce: PSDs!

these are premade colors/effects that you drop on top of board to help even things out, maybe make some colors Pop

there are a Ton of them free to use on tumblr and deviantart, and Here is a tutorial on how to use them! (its done on mobile but works functionally the same as on desktop)

feel free to make adjustments to the photos more under the psd until it looks right to you

once ive selected and used the psd i wanted, i export it as a png, and this is the result!

i hope this is helpful and not Too confusing, if anybody has any questions let me know and i'll try to help!

[anja-the-sane-panda]

Stomp Out The Dark

A lil one shot with Jack encountering Nightlust on le boat.

mostly cus none of my ao3 fics are ready im so sorry😓

A grunt escaped through Jack's gritted teeth as his back hit the floor hard. The markings on the floor of the boat flashed blue and purple as heavy black boots thundered across the floor. The performer tried to get up but was stopped when one of heavy boots stomped on his chest, which if it weren't for the fact his boyfriend was possessed Jack might have been feeling a different emotion then fear.

“Cute you thought that would work Rose,” Wanderlust smirked as Jack struggled under him.

The performer could only grunt as he tried to lift his boyfriend’s boot off him. Jack had managed to get through the other three’ corruption from his mother (though Sara was just as tricky as Wander was being) and just needed his lover to return. But it seemed talking and brute force was helpless in this battle.

“I’m gonna have to ask Night Swan to have you at my side, especially when we hit Flow World,” Wander cackled as he snatched Jack’s cane from where it was laying and booped the red haired coach with it. (If his boyfriend wasn’t a admittedly hot corrupted soldier for his mother Jack might have blushed and laughed)

“Wander please..” The prince could only laugh at his partner’s pleas, making Jack panic more as he tried to come up with a new plan.

“Aww don’t worry, it doesn’t hurt as much as becoming a nor-“

“I forgive you.”

Wanderlust froze and looked down at Jack, looking very confused and even dropping Jack’s mic.

“What?”

Jack took a deep breath and looked Wander square in the eye. “I forgive you, because I know you don’t want to do this. But you also don’t want to disappoint her, I know that feeling. Trust me.”

Wanderlust stared at him for a moment, a look of recognition of those words came across his face. The deity started to breath heavily and holding his head in pain. Grunting and taking his foot off Jack to try and distance himself from the performer.

“Stop talking!”

Jack grabbed his microphone and used to help himself up and stand, still shaken from hitting the floor. “Y-You said those words to me right before you got minionized the first time. Even when everyone saw me as just her son, well Sara had no idea who I was but whatever, point is. You were able to see past all that and see my good side,” Despite Wander backing away like a scared stray Jack just walked up and took his face in his hands.

“And I can do the same for you. Please,” he rubbed Wanderlust’s cheek. A move that always helped the deity calm down, “Come back to me?”

Wanderlust looked at him, the glare from his right eye softening to let it's purple glitter like an amethyst like before Night Swan got her claws on him. Even his full yellow left eye seemed to soften as tears started to fall from both his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry,” Wanderlust sobbed as Jack gently bonked their foreheads together.

“It’s okay Wandie, just glad to have you back,” Jack whispered, feeling his own tears of relief start to form, “Though I must admit you look pretty good in that outfit.”

“Wanderlust looked down and chuckled, “Yeah, though I feel like I should change,” He crosses then spread out his arms, resulting in a bright light that blinded Jack for a second.

When he could see again Wanderlusts had changed the outfit a lot. Once again sporting his signature crown and braid. (though the diamond shape and the yellow eye remained) However he now wore a purple and pink skin tight turtleneck shirt with gold triangles going down the sleeves. The bell bottoms had been replaced with leggings with more gold detailing snaking down to his matching boots. To finish off he wore his father's cape with his triangle emblem hanging off a chain.

The deity held out his arms, “Better?”

Jack's face flickered to one of worry as he looked at the left half of his lover's face, but he shook it off as he silently counted his blessings.

"Much Starboy,"

He then kissed Wander deeply, who was taken aback at first but quickly reciprocated it. Leaving the lovebirds to stand in the empty hallway, the blue lights bouncing off their faces as they remained lip-locked together for quite some time. Just taking in the relief of finally being together after a long struggle.

[prestonmonterey]

final tlt update!!!

@vincentaureliuslin @tatsumisheep3

ok so you know how i said i would do another update if something went horribly wrong

yea well i was too tired to post on friday so here we go

um um um so there was some guy who came in (didnt purchase a ticket, allegedly drunk idk i didnt see it) on friday night as people were comin in for the show (all the actors were in the greenroom getting into costume so we didnt see any of it) and our director asked him to leave and he. did not. so he got a couple of other adults and they asked again and he punched my director in the stomach so they called the cops and the guy was arrested

dont worry!! everyone is safe! my director is totally fine, hes a big scary man and apparently the actor for percy has punched him harder so... we're all good!!

the rest of the shows went smoothly and we all made it out alive :3

i got to keep a couple things from the show which is pretty cool :DDD

i got an ambrosia square (a painted block o foam), my camp shirt, my necklace, a poster, my headshot, and a clothespin (its part of a game we play during tech week where people try to pin other peoples clothes without em noticing)

also! i got the fabric from the trident (it was a big black sheet with holes poked into it for christmas lights in the shape of a trident) the lights were removed but my friend did a lil hugo drawin on the back so ill put that up on my wall at some point when i get time

also there were a couple cute lil gift bags that were given out,, lil fortune cookies with quotes from the show n tarot cards to "get a prophecy from the oracle" and bags of blue candy :3

ALSO I GOT MY SKIRT BACK,, so now i can put together my varian cosplay again >:D

im so so grateful that i got to be a part of this show, and even though i probably wont do more acting at my school im really glad i was a part of this one :3

and i really hope my friends liked my cards bc i spent a really fucking long time on them and they didnt even say thank you... /nm

ok have a great day/night and feel free to ask questions about the show idk

[genezpen]

『 crashing back into you 』

pairings: hoshi × gn!reader

genre: angst(?)

summary: if your drunk ex-boyfriend happen to call you in the middle of the night, saying he wants to see you, what would you do?

warnings: intentional lower case typing, did not proofread!, crying lol, drunk!hoshi, drunk call, hoshi is an ex boyfriend, lmk if i missed anything

word counts: 795

notes: this has been sitting on my drafts half finished for like weeks now and school has been very cruel and hectic pls someone save me from this hell :( anyways, lmk if u enjoyed this short fic mwaaa ^×^

it was late at night when you received a call from an unknown number — not really. it was very familiar, it’s the number you were trying to forget.

“hello?”

you heard a grunt over the phone.

“hello? w-who is this?” your voice shake a little, trying to pretend you aren't aware on who's calling you at this hour.

“oh? y/n! woah! i missed your voice,” then the man on the other line chuckled weirdly.

his raspy voice is telling you that something is up. like, your ex won't just call you to tell you he misses your voice, right?

“are you drunk?” your forehead creased.

“no! of course, not!” and that's how you know he indeed is drunk.

“yeah, and pigs can fly.” rolling your eyes, you sat up on your bed feeling giddy about the call.

why are you so chill that hoshi is calling you late at night, drunk at that point, anyway?

“hmm... c-can i come over?” he mumbled pretty distinct.

“what?” chills shiver down your spine. you had to make sure you heard your ex right.

“i said, can i come over to your apartment? right now, y/n.” hoshi stated loud and clear.

it made your heart hammered inside your chest. is he freaking serious?

“no? hoshi, you're drunk. you aren't even supposed to be calling me—”

“no, no, i’m not druuunk! i just had a drink, you know...” the high pitched sound flickered your eardrums making you back away from your phone.

this is not happening. this is not supposed to happen. you remind your heart so many times why hoshi is a dangerous guy, why you had to break your relationship up. picking up the man’s call is enough to make you realize that... you, once again, fucked up.

the next thing you know is a wild hoshi came by dropping his whole weight on the sofa infront of your bed. he’s barely awake for pete‘s sake!

“hey? hosh? you have to change your clothes...” you whisper on his ears removing his black beanie after the shoes. kneeling down on the ground beside him.

flopped on his stomach with his left cheek squished against the square pillow, completely passed out. it gave you the opportunity to stare at his now tomato red face.

what has changed over the past five months? nothing. not his face, not his voice, not his warmth... except for his slightly visible grown stubble.

“i missed you...” the wind delivered your whispers to hoshi’s ears.

“really?” like a switch, he lift his head from the cushion a bit. he opened his red puffy eyes only to find yours inches close to his.

and then silence. using only your eyes to talk, with beating hearts in the middle of the night, it's bringing back plenty of memories you refused to forget about.

but then, you mean it. you can't say that you really do but hopefully, your gaze can.

slowly, hoshi close his heavy eyelids lying back into the cushion. you let out a relief sigh before getting up to get some pair of clothes for your drunk ex-boyfriend. but before you can even took a step backwards, hoshi’s warm fingers made it’s way to your left wrist making you halt in surprise.

“don’t– don’t go...”

you looked back at him. he looked peaceful sleeping like that except he's sleep talking and is stopping you from leaving his side.

“we'll talk once you sober up. tomorrow morning, hosh.” you placed your hand on the top of his which only made his grip tighten.

“no, no, im not drunk, just tipsy. come one, let's talk now.” he tried to get up, still with his eyes closed, but guess his other hand are not working so he failed to do so. hoshi flopped right back on the couch’s surface as he grunts.

“hosh, listen to me. we will talk, okay? just not now.” but he won't let go. instead, he's pulling you close.

“no, no. what if you leave again?” his voice slightly quivered, your eyes widen at his question. “w-what if you never come back to me again?”

your insides churn. you felt a bucket of iced water splash all over your body. and most importantly, you felt a hand pinching your heart.

“i won't...” you managed to utter.

“that's what u said...” his grip loosened as he murmur those words painfully.

a liquid from your eyes fell in oblivion, “i- i’m sorry... i promise.” you gave up. “please, rest for me.” you dropped to your knees, running your fingers through his hair gently. unable to hold back your sobs, you bring the back of his hand infront of your lips to plant small kisses.

“i miss you... bad. please, don't leave...” hoshi whispers in despair.

©genezpen

all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, plagiarize, repost to another platform/sites without my permission. this is solely available on tumblr.

[callsign-rogueone]

My lovely sweet pie, ( the nicknames 💀😵‍💫 ) how are you doing?

I haven't really slept lately and my minds in overdrive, so that means Bren is also in my mind in overdrive hehe. Any sorrengail really, as I've noticed lately. ( I have issues)

If you have anything for it yet would you mind giving a sneak peak about Bren and duchess with Lilith sorrengail, I can't help but be so curious im sorry. ( If you have nothing or don't want to, it's fine. I know that I ask a lot of sneak peaks and I don't want to pressure you)

Also I know you've been working on it for a while, but I'm excited to see what you have in store for Aaric! I don't remember him popping up "all that often" in iron flame but I only re read what stuck to me. the only thing I remember was Lilith seeing him at the end and saying "you're father's been looking for you" and him saying he's a rider and she just responds with "idc" hehe. Its one of the few things that stood out to me of him. Well expect the kind of heist and Xaden showed no empathy that he killed his brother, (as he should have otherwise I wouldn't have my Garrick ) I don't care necessarily either but yk xadens bluntbess 😅 anyway I'm very curious, I wouldn't have an idea for a story to come up with him but I know your gonna make it amazing.

Well another short ask that ended in a long rant, sorry 💀❤️

hi my love 🥰 I’m good but tired. moving sucks (and it’s not even me moving lmao, it’s my relatives)

Aaric and Sunny are rotting my brain right now (and Sawyer and Peach. and Dain and Love. more of all three of those should be happening soon!) and we might get some of Aaric’s brother at some point in the gf chapters hehe

some Aaric and Sunny (it was so hard to find bits that don’t spoil anything…)

No, he decides, this is better. This feels right, seeing you in the slick black of the rider’s quadrant instead of yards of stiff brocade, being able to hear you laugh and sing and joke like this rather than sitting quietly for the rest of your days like an ornamental vase.

His back hitting the floor snaps him out of his daydream, and knocks the breath from his lungs.

and I’ve already spoiled this part for you guys a while ago so here’s more of that:

You yank your arm away, clearly done with the conversation. “Don’t worry that precious head of yours, my prince,” you condescend. “I’ll keep your secret. Consider it payment for helping me. We’re square now, so you can go about your life and I’ll go about mine.”

Duchess and Lilith — we’re going off-script with this one lol. + it’s gonna be a while, since I want to post all the “end of Iron Flame” gf chapters around the same time and intertwine them a bit. again very difficult to find lines that weren’t spoilers 😅

You lower your head to your mother-in-law in respect, one arm still around Brennan, who has stiffened at the sight of her. “Thank you,” you say quietly.

[shanesbluechicken]

Ooh, for sure for sure! Cant say im 100% emo myself but its not always dark and edgy or whatever stereotype emo has (though yeah ive seen a fair share of my own and thats completely valid)

I was thinking the reader be an anti social but friendly kind of emo. They wear dark clothing, but not all the time or all of it because they still do farming and wearing dark clothes make it hotter and make them sweatier. They dont wear eyeliner (it smudges when they sweat :/) but they do when its a non farming day. An emo in style but a lil softie in heart

I was imagining the headcanons start with shane assuming the reader to be cold and rude because of their appearance but started warming up to them after he realised how nice they were (and maybe add a few dating headcanons in the end if u could)

Thanks again!! Love ur writing sm ^^ -🦝

Shane with an emo s/o

Tysm for the info!🤗

It's based on this ask

TW: heavy language

Gender: neutral

Yes, first time seeing you he was quick to judge to say the least. You definitely stood out with your dark clothes and the even darker makeup and since he didn't know you personally, Shane kinda automatically put you in a box.

Much to his surprise the other town members didn't even seem to notice the fact that you're the extreme opposite of...well, Pelican Town.

It's not that he didn't like your style (he even thought that it suits you well), he simply wasn't familiar with the scene or the people in it. He remembered having some emo kids back in school, but he never interacted with them, only hearing gossip from other class mates who were just as clueless as he was.

In the first week he almost didn't even recognize you without your usual aesthetic, but he already guessed that it must be kinda in the way of work. Black clothes absorb the sun light after all. He had the feeling that something was off, but he couldn't quite place his finger on what.

One evening you entered the saloon wearing your whole attire. Clothes and makeup were spot on and when you took a seat near his corner, he caught himself admiring your eyeliner. Shane could not understand how in the name of Yoba you managed to make it look so...pretty. He banished the thought the second it appeared in his mind. Or tried it at least.

But now he knew what felt so off the last couple times he saw you in the town square, wearing a plain t-shirt and plain pants. This style, YOUR style, completes you somehow. Now you were in your element and fuck, he was staring again.

It didn't take long for him to realize that all the stories and gossip he heard all these years ago were nothing but bullshit. He wasn't better than all these judgmental shitheads tho, considering he put you in a box as well.

You were the nicest person he has ever met, giving out gifts without expecting anything in return and going out of your way to help others. He should have known better.

And now that you two are dating he makes sure to make up for all the times he treated you crappy in the beginning.

Shane loves watching you get ready, taking in every single minute he spends with you. He loves to sing along with you to your playlists when you do chores together. It's not much singing on his side, more mumbling to be honest.

You tried showing him how to put on eyeliner, but he can't even make a straight line :'D

You've tried rubbing your style off, because please his JojaMart jacket can't be considered a jacket anymore. This thing consists of more holes than material.

"Black would suit you so much, I bet."

"No."

It does.

Shane also often times uses clichés to make jokes, but nothing that would genuinely offend you. For example when you'd find a pretty, black stone in the mines and show it to him.

"Look! It's so black!"

"Like your soul?"

Masterlist

[beardisable]

been rewatching the teasers for new context

"learn the history. find kill the founder" we didnt really learn much history in generation 1. this is... a call to action for US, for the next parts. to keep watching and figure out the lore. so in the end we can know enough to kill the founder....? SURELY HAHA

(the inaguration has its separate post here)

i dont think Connecting... has much? Its the tape we see in the ending with the showfall chime in the video, now we have confirmation the person recording and showfall are working together(prob the same corp anyways)

now Connected... (copied text from a comment lmao)

"Look into infinity" "One of many" "One of millions" you are not the first or the last to be chosen, you will join a cast

"You are now worthy" you have been chosen to join :)

"One to another One to yours One to another" not really sure about these? maybe "from one to another role"? feel free to rb/reply with ideas

The posters! it seems like we DO have contact with someone from actually the outside? who does know whats going on and tries to warn us? or is it another ploy by showfall/the founder to entice us into the mystery...

we see a figure block the screen for a moment, i find the white square instead of ranboos black box square Very interesting. i dont think its the founder bc it feels way too obvious to give out this easily? but i do think the white box might mean like. this person has been completely brainwashed and under control...

and then the message is taped over by ranboos missing posters, which we know now were made BY showfall media. 2 posters are torn, to show WATCH from the below poster. as it is the only message they agree with. keep watching!

Announcement this is the same guy that flashed by in the previous video

"all around THIS world" is pretty suspicious as i saw someone point out... are there other worlds?

This seperate person(?) is trying to contact us during this

"where is this signal going?" hmm... perhaps the outsider isnt even completely sure what they are doing? just trying to do SOMETHING to stop this, to stop us from watching and enabling the continuing of this

"Found them!" is interesting... its not in red so ill assume its by showfall? maybe sneeg and charlie have tried to escape before, but gotten caught again?

"is this working? i dont have much time. i dont know whats happening." AH so yes they are trying to do Something but not really sure what/how

"i dont know what you are" INTERESTING. this makes me wonder still if the outsider actually is free of showfalls influence, can they even understand we are the audience, or is it about something else...

"it already found him" i wonder if... ok maybe nonsense theory but maybe this video and its interruptions were made after the first stream was done..? the red text outsider got some access as Hetch/H "messed" with the systems, but had to cut it short when they got ranboo after all in the end?

"it got everyone, everyone but me. i have to save them, i have to stop this" OR or... the outsider is another person who managed to escape the... "draft"

also the announcer guys head keeps swiveling and goes featureless in the end like haha nice generation loss the social experiments episode 3 ending reference

The Hero ok so the obvious being the censor bar.. it was the black box all along, he was always doomed like that... i do wonder though if the switch between the pixel and irl is meant to show like... the blinking between control and concious decisions and stuff that we see a lot of with the mask

i cant figure out anything that can be recontextualized in the 2 trailers rn. maybe puzzler saying "your final game begins now" since its the second episode but... also he dies in the end of ep 3 so it was his final run of the show? (but also i dont think theyre dead so lmao idk)

i do find the lack of trailer 3 very interesting too... lulling us into a false sense of security that this 3rd one isnt a show and is real?

ok im. brain empty. if yall have comments on this let em rip id love to talk about this(once my cells regenerate)

[thesadiebee]

Addicted to Love: Chapter 2

Pairings: Jake x reader, Josh x reader, Danny x reader, Sam x reader!platonic

Authors Note: I promise the next chapter will bring a little spice to the story ;)

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 1,721

The blaring sound of your alarm comes way too soon, interrupting your deep slumber. With a big stretch you reach over and turn off your alarm and check your phone for any new messages.

Josh: Goodluck with your interview today. You're gonna kill it mama ;)

You cant help but smile at Josh’s text. You send him a quick reply back and decide to get ready for the day.

You: Thank you Josh!!

You quickly shower, making sure that you smell fresh for your interview. After applying some light makeup and doing some light waves in your hair, its time to pick out an outfit. “Okay now, what does one where to an interview?” You think outloud. After rummaging through half of your closet you settle on a black square neck body suit tucked into some lightwash baggy mom jeans. You accesorize with a simple black belt, some jewelry and settle on some black chelsea boots. Satisfied with your outfit, you grab your purse and head out the door.

The drive to the job site is fairly short from your new apartment. You check the time in your car and relax knowing you still have ten minutes. You quickly check your appearance in your rearview mirror and decide to pull out your phone. Letting your curiosity get the best of you, you open instagram and search Josh’s name. You audibly gasp at what you find.

“Holy shit. He’s famous!” You exclaim. Sucking in a quick breath you hit the follow button and quickly stuff your phone into your pocket. That’s a whole new can of worms that can wait until after this interview. You exit your dark green Subaru Outback and enter the building.

The building is classy yet casual at the same time. The flooring is a nice black marble, the light fixtures are victorian style chandeliers, but the walls are covered in collages of photographs and pictures of awards that employees have earned in the past.

You walk rather slowly as you enter to take in your surroundings. You approach a woman at the front desk. Shes beautiful with shoulder length blonde hair and bright green eyes. One she notices your presence she smiles up at you.

“Hi! Welcome to Flashbulb Journals! How can I help you?” She asks in a sweet voice.

“Im here for an interview actually!” You announce rather excitedly.

The girl at the desks smile widens. “Oh my gosh you must be Y/N?? Im Summer!” Summer reaches out her perfectly manicured hand for you to shake. You gratefully shake her hand and nod. “Its nice to meet you Summer!” She flashes another one of her perfect smiles and starts typing away on her computer.

“Okay so, our boss, Esmerelda is wrapping up a meeting with one of our clients right now, but I can go ahead and send you up to her.” Summer says and starts to make her way from behind the desk. You follow behind her as she leads the way around the building. You enter an elevator and make your way up to the second floor. On the way up Summer asks about where youre from and your hobbies before you finally make your way to the bosses office.

“Well this is it! Youre gonna love it here I can tell!!” Summer exclaims. “I haven't even interviewed for the job yet!” You say with a giggle. Summer rolls her eyes. “Trust me when I say you basically already have it. Esme will adore you.” You cant help but feel a little warm inside at Summers exclamation. It gave you just the confidence boost you needed. You take a seat in one of the chairs outside of the office and keep yourself distracted with your fidgeting hands.

A few moments later the door opens and you hear a man speak. “Thanks again for your help Esme. You always have the best marketing ideas.” Without trying to be obvious you glance up to the man. Hes a man of similar height and build to Josh. ‘Man is everyone around here built like him? Must be a Nashville thing.’ You think to yourself before observing him further. He has shoulder length brown hair and a very attractive face. Your eyes trail down his body and you take in the outfit hes wearing. A black button up that is barely buttoned and some black skinny jeans. His chest is adorned with some necklaces and he's wearing the same exact shoes as you.

“The pleasure is mine Jacob, I cant wait to start preparing my team for your next tour!” Says the older woman he is with, who you presume is your potentially new boss, is just as beautiful as Summer. She has gray hair thats done in beautiful curls and has a stunning face structure. ‘Damn, is everyone here supposed to look like models?’ While in your head about your seemingly boring appearance, Esmerelda and the man called Jacob have now noticed your presence.

“Hello dear, are you my 11 o’clock interview?” Esmerelda asks. You quickly stand up, dusting off your jeans. You stick out your hand for a hand shake. “I am, yes. Im Y/N. Nice to meet you.” Esmerelda shakes your hand firmly and eyes you up and down. “Esmerelda, but everyone calls me Esme.” You swallow thickly thinking you might have been right about your less than model like appearance. She then smiles and nods almost approvingly. The man next to her clears his throat, causing you to look at him.

“Oh right, sorry Y/N I was just finishing up a meeting with Mr. Kiszka here.” Your eyes widen at the name. ‘Kiszka? Like as in Josh Kiszka? Theres no way.’ Both Jacob and Esmerelda notice your body language. “Have you already met dear?” Your body stiffens. “Oh um no actually. His name just sounded familiar thats all.” You let out an awkward chuckle trying to not let your face turn red. Jacob smirks and extends his hand out to you.

“Jacob Kiszka. I know we havent met before because I would remember someone as beautiful as you.” You body flushes at his statement and you offer a clammy hand to shake. You hold almost an intense eye contact before you cowardly break it. “Well Y/N, now you have met one of my best clients. He and his band are about to tour and need a photographer and someone who has experience in writing. You have experience in that, yes?”

You quickly nod your head. “Yeah actually photography is what i'm passionate about. I went to school for Journalism and social media marketing.” You beam. The pair beam back at you and exchange glances. “Thats excellent! Youll be perfect for the job then. Lets take you to my office and get you started.” You almost gasp at the way you were just handed this job. You quickly nod and follow behind Esmerelda into her office. You turn around and offer Jacob one last glance before she shuts the door.

You spend the next four hours inside Esmereldas– Esmes office. She fills you in on company policies, the type of work you will be doing and all of that nitty gritty. It turns out the band, which you learned is called Greta Van Fleet, is writing a book about their lives and needs someone to help them complete it. You were hesitant about being handed such a large role for your first project on the job, but Esme reassured you that you are the perfect fit.

As you drive back home you cant help but reel in the days events. You got your dream job in Nashville without even having to interview for it! One thought that keeps lingering in your mind is Jacob. As soon as you collapse on your couch, you pull out your phone and open Instagram once again. This time to search a different J name. Finding his account was easy and it was a little less shocking that he was famous considering why he was at Flashbulb journals. What was most shocking is that he not only is related to Josh, but that theyre both in the band.

You cant help but feel a little butt hurt that Josh didnt want you to know about his career, or should you say fame. You decide to follow Jacob and the rest of the band as well. You learn their brother Sam is also in the band along with his best friend Daniel. You spend the next few hours researching them and their band. You check out their music and scroll through their social media. After a nice dinner of chinese take out, you decide to hit the hay.

After tucking yourself into bed, your phone chimes.

Josh: Howd it go today? Did they love you??

You: It went amazing! I got the job without even having to interview!

Josh: I knew you would knock em dead.

You: Haha. Thank you Josh :)

Josh: Just the truth mama. Can I take you out tomorrow to celebrate your new career?

Your heart skips a beat. ‘Josh is wanting to take you out? Like a date?’ You can't believe it. With nervous hands you try to muster up a casual response. You’re not really the dating type as past lovers haven’t been the kindest to you or your heart. You can’t even remember the last time you went out on a date. You usually have a casual hookup every few months.

You: Of course! I get off at 4:30. So maybe something around 6?

Josh: You got it. Send me your address. I want to pick you up.

You send him your address and wrap up your conversation. You plug in your phone and look up to the ceiling. You cant help but smile. Everything is going so well for you right now. It doesnt take long to fall asleep dreaming about Josh yet again for the second night in a row.

*Ding ding*

Email from Esme: After talking it over with Jacob, he agreed to have you come aboard their team for their new tour!! I will set up a meeting for us and his band tomorrow at 12pm. Jake and I both think you will be the perfect fit. Can't wait for you to start your new project!