#sofie’s choice

[disneydatass]

Watching omitb made me realize that every freaking role Meryl Streep has ever played boils down to an unhinged mother

[lestatisprince]

To anyone who is still doubting Lestat at the trial after the final go watch Sofies choice and stfu.

[sincerely-sofie]

Some tags responding to my recent poll presented a dilemma of interpretation:

Thankfully the AU has both options covered so we’re good

[archonfurina]

They actually let us join both covens and have a (life-long) threesome with them sjdfhdlshdsl

[honeysmokedham]

Sofie’s Choice || Nora & Sofie

TIMING: April 2nd, 11:32 pm LOCATION: Sofie’s Apartment  PARTIES: Sofie @sofiedupont & Nora @honeysmokedham SUMMARY:  Nora is determined to get the haunted doll from Sofie. No matter what. CONTENT WARNINGS: Memory loss

It was easy enough to find an address for the lady online. It only required three hours of intensive googling until she could locate an exact home address. Nora decided she was not going to stand for the trafficking of ghosts. They were some of the only people who took time to talk to her. It helped that she lived in a graveyard where every three feet she’d walk into a new ghost neighbor and that all of them were so bored for information they would talk to anyone who could hear them. But that was besides the point. Nora felt compelled to do this justice. The plan was simple. One, steal some charged speakers. That was done easily with a quick walk around the park. Two, go to the woman’s apartment.

Done. Nora stood outside the apartment on the fire escape. Connecting the bluetooth to her phone she blasted the speaker on full before holding it above her head like she was in some sort of 70s romcom. Only this situation wasn’t romantic or comedic. We’re Not Going to Take It by Twisted Sister blared over the speaker. Now this was a true protest. She could sit out here playing this dumb song for hours until the Sofie relented and freed the doll

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There really was nothing quite like a relaxing evening at home. Sofie had just settled down with a to-go red eye from the Masque of the Red Eye, along with a particularly well loved first edition copy of Anna Karenina, when something started playing outside. She glanced momentarily at the window before her gaze drifted back to her book. Probably just someone starting their car, she thought to herself, taking a sip from the cardboard cup. She flipped the page, before glancing again at the window. The music hadn’t stopped, or faded in the slightest. If anything, it had gotten louder. 

Sofie sat, tapping her foot against the leg of the dark green velvet sofa in annoyance. She huffed out a sigh before setting her supper down and closing her book. In two hasty strides, she was at the window, tossing the curtains aside and forcing it open. Outside was someone far younger than she was with a speaker held over their head. “And what, exactly, are you doing?”

________________________________________________________________

“I am protesting your ghost trafficking.” Nora replied back, her monotone voice blending into the bass of the music. Realizing she couldn’t talk over the loud song, Nora turned down the speakers. She let her hand fall back to her sides as she tried again. “I am protesting your ghost trafficking. Ghosts have emotions too. Just because you are too deaf to listen to what they have to say doesn’t mean they don’t have something to say.” How noble of her, to speak for the weak. Suddenly she was the hero of this narrative. 

Nora stepped closer to the window. The woman wasn’t much bigger than her, she decided. Before Sofie could shut the window on her, Nora shoved her way through its opening to land on the side. It looked like a photograph from some french renaissance historical home. Nora glanced down at her very dirty boots. Maybe Sofie wouldn’t notice. “Where is the ghost?” Nora asked, starting to look around. Her grubby hands touched everything near as she started sorting through all the possessions.

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Sofie stood slack jawed for a moment. How in the world had this child found her. They couldn't have been much past her teens- maybe early twenties. At least they had the good sense to turn the volume down. “Am I going to have to get a restraining order?”  Sofie muttered to herself. “I think there are some much bigger battles you could be fighting, ma petite. There are people who sell supposedly haunted things on the internet for much more than I am. And as I said, I don’t know that it is haunted. Just that  it’s spooky.” 

She was beginning to feel like how some of the aristocracy had felt in the seventeen-nineties. One moment the person (who was perhaps spookier than the doll she was after) was outside, the next moment she was forcing her way through Sofie’s window. “What are you doing?!” Sofie hissed, swatting at their hands “What do you think you're doing, that is older than you are, get your hands off!” She hurriedly snatched a one hundred thirty-four year old faberge egg and set it down far from their reach. “Protesting and breaking and entering are two vastly different things with vastly different legal ramifications. 

________________________________________________________________

The realization that Sofie was a very funny lady hit Nora swiftly. If she had been the kind for laughing at humor, she might have even let out a little chuckle. Instead, a micro smile tugged at the corner of her otherwise blank expression. “A restraining order?” Nora repeated back. Her monotone voice somehow managed to convey how ridiculous she thought that idea was. "I may not be able to stop everyone, but I can stop you." Nora thought that was obvious. She was currently standing in her apartment. "I will know if it's haunted," Nora assured. 

The woman was a fusser. Nora watched her waving hands with fascination as her own were swatted at and robbed of the items she examined. "I'm looking for the doll." Nora thought asking what she was doing was possibly the dumbest thing Sofie could have said. Didn't she give a whole speech about it just a minute ago? Nora's head tilted to the side as she examined Sofie. Perhaps the woman struggled with her memory. Nora had watched Adam Sandler's Fifty First Dates before. The only thing she took away from the movie was there were people who forgot things. Personally, Nora would never. But perhaps Sofie had that memory loss thing. Which made her threat of legal ramifications even funnier. Nora stood up straight, turning to face Sofie. "What are you going to do? Call the cops?" A challenge and a mock all in one. Just like that, Nora turned away letting all the tension of the mockery melt from her. "Where's the doll? I'm here for the haunted doll." It was important to remind Sofie, so she could remember. 

________________________________________________________________

This was what Sofie got for talking to people. Of course someone in this town would have a thing for freeing potentially haunted dolls. She had never said it was for certain haunted. She’d have to be very specific in the way she advertised her wares, or else the girl would likely raise a barricade outside Sofie’s front door until she’d handed over every single last one of her belongings. The tenacity this girl had… unbelievable.

��Has it ever occurred to you that you get much, much further with honey than you do with vinegar?” She hastily grabbed a small ceramic dish she’d picked up on a trip back to Poland. It wasn’t incredibly expensive, but there was something sentimental about it. And it wasn’t as if Sofie could simply jet off to Poland now. “There are far easier ways to accomplish your task than barging in and rooting through my things until you think you’ve found it.” She bristled at the tone their voice took. Were they mocking her? She took one slow breath in an attempt to maintain control. “Don’t tempt me.” Sofie stood up straighter. “I heard you the first time. Why should I give a doll to someone who is currently scavenging through my things like a raccoon? That would just be rewarding bad behavior.”

________________________________________________________________

“Honey?” Nora’s mouth began to water. “You didn’t mention you had honey.” Her eyes swept the room hopefully, like she expected the honey to be right there, waiting for them. “It's not honey smoked ham is it?” Nora was partial to honey, but paired with ham? Divine. She didn’t believe in god, but if there was a god it would be honey smoked ham. The grumbling in her tummy started just thinking about her favorite treat. Sofie didn’t seem to be actually offering Nora honey though. Instead, Sofie was trying really hard to get Nora to consider there was something easier. Their online negotiations weren’t working. Nora didn’t have money for a financial transaction. Oh. Maybe Sofie wanted Nora to scare her? That was really thoughtful of Sofie. Nora felt so stupid for missing the subtlety of Sofie asking Nora to come in and do something so scary she peed herself then gave Nora the doll.

“What are the cops going to do?” Nora answered as Sofie said something about tempting her. “Arrest me?” An illusion flickered around her, appearing to distort her body. Her five foot one stature stretched to reach the ceilings. Her body warped into the color of the night sky dotted by a galaxy. Behind her a black hole opened, twisting and turning revealing nothing but pitch black in its depths. Her eyes shone pure white, bright and empty. “Do you think they could touch me?” Her elongated illusionary hand stretched towards Sofie, swiping through her body. “If I don’t want them to?” Nora picked up an item, making it look clutched in the grasp of her illusion’s other hand. “My behavior isn’t worse than yours. Give me the doll.” There. That should be a nice little gauge of how scared Sofie would get. Making new friends really was so fun.

________________________________________

“What?” She was confused for a moment. “It is a figure of speech! You get further by being polite than-“ she shook her head. “Why am I sitting here explaining this to you, no, I do not have ham or honey.” This was not how Sofie had planned on spending her evening, and yet there she was. Stuck in a nonsense conversation with  youth who seemed intent on stealing her wares. She just wanted to read her book. 

Her eyes widened as the scene before her shifted. No longer a little wisp of a thing, the creature before her had shifted. She should have known better- the girl had smelled off, and she couldn’t put her finger on why. Sofie didn’t know what she was dealing with, but she certainly did not want an abyss swirling in her apartment. Her teeth lengthened into fangs and her eyes flashed red. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing. But I can promise you I have more years of experience in manners. So knock it off.” It could be a bluff. Sofie wasn’t entirely certain how old the girl was- maybe as old as time itself. But she had a reputation to maintain, and a certain amount of bravado was necessary. The only tell she allowed herself was the slight step back away from the girl who looked like a beast from the void.

______________________________________

“So no honey?” Nora tossed down the book she was holding in disappointment. It was childish, yeah, but she was really looking forward to having some honey. You couldn’t go around promising people honey and not deliver. ‘A figure of speech.’ Nora’s hunger wasn’t a figure of speech! It was as ravenous as the black hole behind her. And with that manners were off the table. Sofie sounded just like her fathers. ‘We know more manners than you. You’re not doing it right. You start at the silver wear farthest out and work your way in. Don’t bite the guests that’s rude!’ If Sofie had her way she’d probably ask Nora to curtsy before addressing her or some shit like that.

Nora sniffed the air. She was rewarded by a nice little fear snack. Despite Sofie’s calm exterior Nora could taste a small amount of fear dripping off her. It wasn’t enough. She needed more to make up for the lack of honey. To fill the rumbly in her tummy. Blood started to drip from the empty white sockets the creature had for eyes. Inside the body, the galaxies began to swirl accompanied by the faint sound of people screaming. It all got sucked up into the void behind her. The screaming stopped abruptly, leaving them both standing in silence. Nora let them stand like that for a minute. A woman and a creature made of space without stars. “You’ve got one minute to give me the doll or I do that to your apartment.” Actually, Nora didn’t care about the doll anymore. This was turning into good old fashioned fun. She just wanted Sofie to pee her pants in fright. 

_______________________________________________________________

“No honey- don’t throw that it is a first edition copy!” Sofie wasn’t sure what figure in the universe she had pissed off to bring her to her current predicament, but she’d say a thousand mea culpa’s if it meant shape shifting children that turned into the void would no longer appear in her living room and tossing through her things. It was frankly unnerving. 

She winced as screams overtook her living room. Sofie took a few more steps back until her back bumped into the kitchen table. It was screams and chaos and then- silence. She opened her eyes. She hadn’t realized she’d closed them. Her eyes flashed a dark, angry red. It was an ultimatum. This was quite possibly the second worst day of Sofie Du Pont’s horribly long existence. “Fine.” She hissed. “Just don’t touch anything else.” She hurried to the trunk that served as a coffee table, making sure to give the void-child a wide berth. She dug through carefully wrapped statuettes and vases until finally- “Got it.” Sofie set the doll down several feet away from the girl, and then skittered toward the edge of the room. “Take the doll, diabełek. You win this time.”

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Sofie’s fear was delicious. A base of vanilla gave it a nice warm taste rounded with the scent of emptiness. If asked Nora would never be able to describe the smell of emptiness, but her nose knew it. A lot of people smelled like emptiness when they were afraid. A trace of citrus trailed through Sofie’s fear. It was fine dining. Nora’s internal yelp reviewer gave it a nine out of ten. She would be dining here again. As Sofie relented, Nora’s illusionary body stretched impossibly taller through the ceiling and into the ground before the black hole behind it started to spin. The body began to spin with the black hole getting sucked into it as it spun faster and faster. The body and the black hole merged together as they merged they got smaller and smaller. Until it was a spinning mass the size of a gobstopper. Nora opened her mouth allowing the illusion to fly in her. With a pop, it was all gone. Then there was just Nora. Small and finite. Standing there in her frayed and worn clothes that needed a good washing and repairing. Nothing extraordinary about her. That was the fun of it, wasn’t it?

Nora sat next to where the doll was placed, crossing her legs under her.  “Are you there?” Nora’s head tilted to the side as she examined the doll. It was definitely a… doll. Sofie could have at least stored it better. It looked old and like it was supposed to be a clown and a baby. Which was really dumb, because everyone knew clowns couldn’t be babies. Tentatively Nora reached out to grab the doll. It was heavier than it looked on account of the porcelain. She spotted a crack on its cheek. “I’m here to save you.” The clown baby’s mouth didn’t move but words still came out. “Fuckin’ finally. I’ve been dying in that chest. Do you know what it's like to be dead and dying?” Nora nodded, her blank face just as empty as ever. Of course she understood. Nora got to her feet and back to the window. “This was fun.” Nora addressed Sofie. “We’ll do it again.” She told the woman before starting the climb out the window.

__________________________________

Sofie tried not to look at where the once-girl stood. But her eyes kept drifting up to see the beast with the bright white eyes, eating the spinning void as if it were a sweet. And then, after what had felt like an eternity, the girl was human shaped once more. Sofie stood in the corner, her fangs still on full display like some hissing feral cat. 

She watched as the little devil sat down and talked to the doll as though it would talk back. It wasn’t going to talk back, Sofie had had that doll for over a century and it had never once-

It talked. 

The accursed thing actually talked. 

She blinked, dumbfounded as the little beast stood up and took the doll with them, back out the window. “We most certainly will not be doing this again.” She huffed, scrambling to the window to shut it, and locked it for good measure. She watched them go for a minute before hastily shutting the curtain. 

So much for a quiet evening at home. 

[theyarebothgunshot]

thinking of working from home tomorrow too haha. are you having a birthday party tomorrow? (also what is your happy place go-to jib panel to watch?)

-🍯

*devil on your should voice* do ittttt!

one of my fave jib panels to watch, one that always makes me smile like a fool, is jib 5, because they are so smiley and giggly during that one that i have no choice but to join them ghdfh

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

Tag game!!

Ty for tagging me @whoreforseresin ILYSM bby<33

slow burn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // oh no there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt-comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high school romance or middle-aged romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbors or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or gender bend // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane

No pressure tags: @bussyslayer333 @tongue-like-a-razor and @birdy-bat-writes

[residualmanifest]

@countymir replied to your post “fields of mistria is really adorable and i LOVE...”:

RYIS IS SO CUUUUUUTE i am also going for hayden though his chicken sold me

​HENRIETTA IS GREAT !!!!!! henrietta sweep !!!! o7 like literally you get to share henrietta in the marriage . what else do u need .

[shepardyke]

Leave Us Here (We’re Fine) is so bg3 coded for me, at least for my playthrough like it’s a silly sounding song .. when they say “we’re just visually optimistic so leave us here we’re fine” and it’s like yeah i bet you guys ARE visually optimistic… bet you’re freaking out about these worms in your brains on the inside though…. and sure the genius lyrics might not be accurate but “you use me to gain some rich affection but never wanted me anyway” kind of screams the pim/emperor dynamic like … wheeewww… whew… leave us here we’re fine!!!

[caramelcoloredkiss]

hello! i saw ur post and im excited to read ur works so i decided to give u a request! hope u dont mind :3

m!reader who is really slim, not to the point he's unhealthy but just think of him having every girl's dream body, and then there's m!reader's bf who wants to see m!reader under all that baggy clothing but doesn't want to be too pushy so he waits until they finally decide to make love and the moment m!reader's bf sees such a heavenly sight, all he wants to mark him inside out!! kinks r up to u but i do would request creampie :3

First request from our lovely anon! Your wish is my command <3

"𝐻𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓉 ٭"

[OC!Malcom x Sub!Male reader]

"You were always avoiding the topic of sex when it came to your boyfriend, but being so stressed over the course of your semester. You just needed something to relieve stress. Luckily your boyfriend is just so happy to give it to you.

Contains: 18+ , sweet -> smutty, body worship, size difference, creampie, praise, insecure+anxiety filled!reader

Let me know if you have any feed back or criticism! Or just how you feel about this~

───────────────────────────

If there were a man that knew how to make you feel loved, it was your boyfriend.

Malcom was infatuated by your very existance. The way you laughed, spoke, and moved— by God it was like you put a curse on him. The smell of your cologne and shampoo had filled his senses; he had always held you close like it was his last.

You knew his love was bigger than anything else, but it always caught you off guard whenever he said it so casually. How were you able to get your hands in a man that had the biggest heart in the world? You weren't so sure.

"It's so unfair!"

You had felt yourself flinch from the sudden declaration; it was your friend, who had been laying on the carpeted ground of the living room in your apartment. She had began to talk about her exe's while you both worked on a document for your college assignment, honestly if you didn't know any better— she probably only came here to vent about more of her failed relationships.

"You seriously wouldn't believe it! The fucking asshole had the audacity to comment about my sex life! Like— if you want pussy that badly go to a prostitute! Or all the other fucking girls who you keep switching between every week!"

She huffed, pressing her face on the pillow she had taken from the sofa to muffle her uncontrollable yelling. Sofie had always been a bit easily agitated, but today was her last straw apparently.

"Why'd you even date him?"

You asked, pausing your typing on your laptop to lean back on the sofa while she rolled around on the floor, kicking her legs in the air. Your friend let out a sigh and took the pillow off her face, she looked extremely tired, did the situation really bother her that much?

"Look man.. He had good dick! But the asshole had something worth bragging and decided it was his whole personality! He was pretty big too so—"

Too much details!

"Okay stop! I don't wanna hear the details of you sex with him."

You shudder at the very thought of it, this girl was shameless, but she was your bestfriend so you couldn't complain about your choices.

"Whateverrr—"

Sofie sat up from the floor and stood up, heading towards your kitchen— your semi-kitchen anyways. She grabbed the caramel pudding that was stashed underneath, it was still so weird how she could just find the snacks Malcom buys you.

" anyways I probably shouldn't complain to you, not when your boyfriend was sent by God apparently. Seriously! He keeps buying you shit, my boyfriends couldn't even buy me flowers!"

"It's because he's nice to me, besides I buy him just as much the amount as he does for me."

Sofie teasingly rolled her eyes and peeled the packaging seal of the pudding, grabbing a spoon to eat.

"Mhm sure. Oh yeah— he dicked you down yet?"

You coughed out loud, choking in your own saliva; caught off guard by her words. Did this girl just wear no filter whenever you were around? Usually she was more shy with people.

"𝘚𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘦! Why are you so sex craved!?—"

"I am not! I just haven't heard much from you about yours, is he that bad?—"

"—well I wouldn't know! "

You both paused, sitting in silence. You didn't mean to say that—it was true but it didn't have to be said!

Closing your laptop, you put it besides you, theirs no way you could work under these way too personal questions.

"Oh, really? I heard Malcolm was pretty good. Did he not want to? Kinda fucked up if so." Sofie said, scooping a spoonful of pudding in the cup to shove in her mouth. Walking back to you to sit on the couch.

You shook your head, it wasn't like he didn't want to have sex with you. It was the fact that you were too scared to even show your body to him, you were slim, yeah it was almost every girls ideal body type— but you didn't even know if it was 𝘩𝘪𝘴. You were already in disbelief by the fact that he even reciprocated feelings for you, sex was the last thing that came into your mind.

But it didn't mean you could avoid the image of his muscular arms caging you while you layed helpless at his mercy, not mentioning the fact that he constantly walked around shirtless in your apartment— You fought your urges every day at that point.

"Well if not, I say you should, we already finished our exams you might as well get some relaxation in your life before our semester is over— we only have to submit a few of our projects left anyways."

You felt your cheeks burn, it was ridiculous. The thought of finally making love to him made you feel completely weak, you weren't even sure if he wanted to have sex with you.

"—He's probably been waiting for you to give permission or something."

You could only hope she was right.

This is embarrassing.

You layed on your bed for what felt like hours, waiting for him.

"Why is he taking so long? Ugh, I might throw up."

Sitting up, you moved from your bed to open your bed side cabinet— you had bought some lube and condoms from the store just a bit earlier, having to go to the counter to purchase the said items made you want to curl up into a ball, for fucks sakes—

Of course the cashier wasn't the only one to witness you buy them!

You were an adult.

You weren't supposed to be ashamed for buying them, or even about sex in general! But you were a virgin, someone who had stayed far away from any form of sexual intimacy for the sake of your own dignity— and now you were offering it to 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

"Calm down, [Name]. If he doesn't want to that's fine, you can just cope with it and move on!"

You felt yourself shaking, dammit you felt pathetic. It wasn't your fault your mom wanted to keep you safe! Maybe this was a bad idea, if he didn't say anything then that probably meant he—

You felt a sudden pressure wrap around your waist, the figure burying it's nose at the crook of you neck.

"Hi baby.. I missed you.."

You made a quick reaction and closed your cabinet, praying he hadn't just seen what you prepared.

"M-Malcom! Hi— did your practice go well?"

Turning your body around to look at him, lifting his face off your neck—you gently caressed his face with incredible amounts of affection. While he had determinely locked his arms around your waist, seemingly needy for your touch.

"It was fine.. Took too long, it was a pain in the ass.. "

You nodded, as he leaned his face against your hand. Malcom had always been a bit clingy when he was exhausted— desperate to touch you and to feel his cold hands on your warm skin.

Malcom was beautiful, he had bronze skin that developed from all the times he bathed underneath the sun, and green eyes that just lit up every time he had something say. His hair was flawless, his sister had always taken care of it; dark brown and with a few strands of his hair framing his face— not to mention the mole underneath his lips. [Name] was desperate to see what else is underneath just his beauty, what would he look like when they were indulging in sinful acts, what would he whisper, what would he do.

—You wanted to know...

But, he looked so tired. Probably desperate to just lay in bed and cuddle, we're you really gonna be selfish enough to take that away from him? You didn't want that, so maybe it was alright to wait a bit longer.

"[Name], I heard from Sofie you wanted to talk to me about something.. "

Malcom whispered, pressing his lips against the palm of your hand while he looked down at you with half lidded eyes, not bothering to break eye contact.

Ah, so Sofie had been out to get you.

"Its— not important, you're probably exhausted right? Let's just go to bed—"

As you were about to pull away from his hold, he tightens his arms. Damn his muscular body!

Malcom was determined to get your words out of you, a tired Malcom wasn't easy to deal with.

"You know I don't like you lying to me, spit it out, hm?"

He kept his body firm and pressed you against his chest, he smelt good, he probably showered before coming here.

"I just— it's nothing."

Malcom sighed, giving you one last look of dissatisfaction. He let's go of your hug, which made you whine a bit, his body was warm! Before sitting down at the edge of your bed, pulling you by your arm to fall on his lap. Fuck, this wasn't the best position for someone who had just been craving to get fucked by the man in front of him. Your face was getting warmer and warmer each time he looked at you, this was gonna be hard.

"Please baby? I just wanna know what's botherin' you.. That's all."

He looked a bit sad, wrapping his arms around you waist once more to pull you closer to him, with your legs in between his hips. This man was seriously not helping you.

You let out a sigh, finally giving up on holding your ground. It wasn't like it was that strong anyways.

"I-Its just that, I noticed how we were both a bit stressed out during the semester.. And it made me think, we hadn't really done much to relieve ourselves... So I thought.. Maybe you wanted to.. "

"Make love?"

You blinked, his eyes were soft, but they looked crazed— like he had been waiting so long for this very moment. It honestly made you feel a bit nervous, you weren't prepared for the reaction he would give.

"Ah— yeah, I wanna make love to you, please.. I wanna feel you." You could die from over heating.

But that seemed to be the words he needed to hear, his lips pulling up to a soft smile.

"You could've just said so, I've been wanting for you.."

Before you could respond, he took your lips.

You held onto his bicep to avoid collapsing into his arms, reciprocating the heated kiss. Your abdomen felt like it was burning, just as you were desperately trying to taste every inch of his mouth. His tongue was dominating, sucking onto yours as your salivas was mixed with the messy kiss, occasional gasps and moans leaving your lips.

"Been waiting..so long— fuck."

"ah.. haa..Malcom—"

He pulled away, before returning for another serving, you could feel your head spin a bit. This much more intense your previous make out sessions.

You pull away this time, the string of saliva showing the previous connection of your lips. The illuminating lamp at the top of your cabinet was the only thing that lit up your otherwise pitch dark room. It has how you could see the look of hunger Malcom gave you, he didn't move his face any farther from just an inch, you could feel his hot breath hit your face. He pressed his lips on your right cheek, giving it a wet kiss before lowering his attention to you other half.

"You're so responsive.. [Name], strip for me, yeah? ."

"I-"

You couldn't believe this, when did Malcom become so blunt.

Despite your thoughts, you grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt, it was pretty big compared to you. If anything all of your clothes were to big for you, hiding your body unintentionally. So when you had pulled it off, Malcom stared. He looked so deeply enamored by how your body was made— how well it was made for him.

"You look so beautiful.. Such a pretty body, been hiding their away from for too long haven't you? [Name]."

He connected his lips to your neck, suckling at your skin as he licked and nipped the same spot, stopping and moving to the next. You let out small moans, which made you bite your lip to silence it, but Malcom didn't seem to appreciate it— pulling his lips away from your awfully sensitive skin.

"Don't do that, I wanna hear all you pretty sounds, I want everyone to know how good you feel.. "

You could only reluctantly nod, and let your whined moans strain— your throat from how intensely Malcom was sucking at your skin.

He lowered his attention each time he successful left a mark, using his calloused hands to rub the side of you waist, lowering his hand to squeeze your ass, which made you bite back a squeal.

"You're so cute [Name], wanna see all of you okay?"

You could only nod again, as he gently pulled you shorts down along with you briefs. Showing the obvious erection that had built up throughout the whole thing.

"Such a cute cock.. "

"H-Hey, stop saying embarrassing things.. "

Malcom let out a chuckle, as he kissed your jaw, letting your clothes fall on the floor. He lifts you up and lays your back on the bed as gently as he could, he supports himself on his knees while pulling his shirt off, throwing it carelessly on the floor along with the others.

"You are so fucking beautiful— [Name]"

He leans down to kiss your stomach, going back up to kiss you cheek. Why was he just so loving?

𝘖𝘩 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

"I-I bought lube, it's in the cabinet, s-so it'll be easier to..you know."

Malcom sat back up and reached his hand to slide open the cabinet.

"Came prepared huh, baby. Want we to stretch you out?"

"Y-Yeah.."

Malcom smiles, grabbing the tube of lube and squeezing a generous amount on his hand, spreading it throughout his fingers.

"Gonna slide it in okay?"

"O-okay"

He leans back down to hold you and just as he promised, he slid one of his finger in—fuck his finger was bigger than you thought.

"Hm.. You tried stretch yourself out.."

You nodded, burrying your face in his shoulder while he pumped his finger in and out of your hole.

"M' fingers weren't—ah!— e-enough.."

"You did good, I'll do the rest.."

You gasped and wrapped you hands around his torso, your nails piercing at his back, but he didn't seem to mind, only inserting a second finger in to thrust in your hole. The cold lube and his thick fingers were going to kill you, this was too much of a combination.

Malcom was a lot bigger than you thought, he was practically hiding your body from just how broad his shoulders were, not to mention the tent in his sweatpants weren't going unnoticed by just how— big it was..

"Aah—! f-fuck Mal— why are your fingers so big!?"

You screamed, feeling practically all three of his finger simultaneously out thrusting in and out of your hole. This was unfair, you were going to cum untouched at this point!

"You're just small, baby. S'not my fault you're so reactive.." He grinned, his canines displaying. This bastard!

"You—ahh!— wha—"

He hit your spot, and he didn't stop—curling his fingers to press your prostate, which just made you cry out a moan, your toes curling from the unexpected pleasure. This was too much.

He kept going, pumping his fingers and putting pressure on your prostate.

"M-Mal I'm gonna!—"

You came, squirts of white sticky cum came out the tip of your cock, you were holding on for so long. But Malcom looked satisfied, his smile never faltering as he kissed your tear filled eyes, licking away the salty water.

"You did so well baby, m' gonna fill you up now alright?—you look so pretty while cumming."

He pulled his fingers out of your hole, much to your disappointment. Malcom slid his sweatpants off along with his boxers, pumping his cock a few times before grabbing a pack of condom in your cabinet.

He was big, it was obvious, you knew it was going to be possible— but seeing it is leaving you speeches.

"Like what you see? It's all yours honey."

Malcom tears the condom with his teeth, it was hot. You weren't even going to lie about that, but seeing how he was rolling the condom on his cock made you feel dissapointed— you wanted to feel everything, his cock and his cum. You wanted to know how much he could shove inside you before it was too much.

"Ah... C-Can you not wear the condom?"

He looked back with a bit of confusion.

"Hm? Didn't you but this..?"

"Y-Yeah but, i— I want you to fill me."

Something seemed to have snapped inside of Malcom, he let out a small chuckle and dove back to your lips, giving it a rushed kiss.

"I'll fill you to the brim, don't worry baby.. "

He pulls the condom out his cock, throwing it the the side in favor of lining his leaking tip at your gaping hole. Malcom grabbed your thighs and pushed your knees to your chest, letting your cock lay pathetically on your stomach. You sucked in a deep breath as he slowly pushed his cock in.

You let out a shrilled moan, throwing your head back against the sheets of the bed while Malcom had leaned to connect your lips to his, trying to distract you from the hissing pain that was your asshole.

"Relax baby, it'll be in soon.. "

He kept kissing your lips, as you had wrapped your arms round his shoulders, clawing at his back. You would feel bad if it weren't for the incredible feeling of his cock filling your body, it was big—so big.

After a few minutes, you could Malcom's movements stop.

"It's in— m'gonna move now, alright baby?"

"haa—o-okay.."

Malcom's thrust were slow at first, which made you gasp and moan whenever he penetrated in. After a while his pace began quicker, making his cock go deeper and deeper in you.

"S-Shit, you're tight— fuck, you feel heavenly."

You could only cry out, as his cock moved deeper in, feeling every push that rush all the way to your throat. Both of you sweating, panting, and moaning about how good it felt.

His eyes glued onto yours, never breaking eye contact, his hair sticking slightly to his face as he caged you beneath his arms, this was like a fantasy. His cock was moving in and out as he whispered praises to you.

"You're so beautiful, fuck."

And—

"C-can't believe—shit— you were hiding such a sexy body away from me, hun. Not gonna stop until your filled and full, alright?—"

This bastard, acting like he could just say shit like that without making your heart drum. Malcom had kept thrusting his hips, chasing his climax just as much you craved to be stuffed full of his cum.

After a few more thrusting he came, strings of his thick warm cum filling you— to the point where it leaked out of you. But Malcom kept this thrusting, shoving his cum inside whilst latching his lips into yours.

Along with his cum, you came with him, your cum spraying pathetically on your stomach as it went limp.

And finally— he stops, using his cock to plug his cum inside, preventing it to spill out of you. You were full, the feeling of the warm liquid sitting inside your hole as his cock remained inside, you would die from this if you could.

You were both left panting, trying to catch your breath before he grins back down at you.

"How about another round, baby?"

You sipped the mug of coffee that your boyfriend had left you, even leaving a note as a good morning. He had only left a bit ago but he was planning to stay inside the dorm with you to have a date night. You couldn't wait.

A sudden ringing interrupted your thoughts, you checked to see your phone— it was Sofie.

"I should probably thank her.. "

You answered the call and pressed your phone to your ear.

"Yo, [Name]! Hopefully your fuck session went well, I heard it all the way next door! "

"Sofie I'm going to fucking kill you."

✩꙳I hope you enjoyed that! I had never wrote sex scenes before so I hope I did well~

-> Feel free to request more! Be as detailed as you'd like.

[probablyasocialecologist]

Maintaining the biodiversity of sheep is not just important for knitters and spinners, but for the health of the environment. Essentially, a sheep functions like a carbon sequestration system. Atmospheric carbon makes up 50 percent of wool's weight, and, unlike synthetic fabrics, wool is naturally biodegradable. When disposed of, wool acts like a fertilizer, slowly releasing valuable nutrients and carbon back into the soil. Wool fixed carbon in the topsoil rather than releasing it into the atmosphere. This process can help regenerate pastures, which sheep will graze. And sheep can help answer the problem of how to avoid far-flung fiber supply chains. Because sheep do well in such an extraordinary range of terrains, wool is a natural choice for people interested in rebuilding local systems of cloth manufacture. Certain breeds are more suited to certain atmospheric and geologic conditions than others, so preserving diversity also means preserving the geographic range in which sheep can flourish.

Sofi Thanhauser, Worn: A People’s History of Clothing

[chiiyuuvv]

WHEN YOU CALL THEM BY THEIR NAME

• PAIRING — bf!riize x gn!reader

• GENRE — worried riize, seunghan is suggestive

• WORD COUNT — 482

• AUTHOR'S NOTE — request on wattpad

• TAGLIST — @moonlightdarlings , @cake1box

MASTERLIST! ��� JOIN THE TAGLIST!

SHOTARO ☆

After sticking your tongue at you, shotaro decided that he had no choice but to tickle you

Has you on the floor, kicking your feet with a massive smile on his face

"T-taro.. SHOTARO" stops immediately

"Is everything alright? Was i going to far?"

You sticked your tongue at him again, so he just continued ♡

EUNSEOK ☆

You were having a bad day, so eunseok decided to buy you a plushie

"Eunseok!!" You would gasp as he turns around your chair, engulfing him in a big hug

"Do you like it?" He would whisper in your ear, his voice calm and deep as he rubbed circles on your back

Doesnt mind if you call him by his actual name, thats just your way of saying you really like it

And spoils you for the rest of the night ♡

SUNGCHAN ☆

Sungchans doing his regular 'ol teasing about how short you are

Its gotten to the point where you just ignore him, until he starts poking your shoulder

"hey short-" "sungchan. Im trying to watch my show."

"Oh.." thinks hes went to far, and starts pouting beside you

But you pull him into a hug, letting him know that youre just really anxious for when sofie was going to slap chad in the face ♡

WONBIN ☆

"Do you like it?" His arms were wrapped around your waist, his head on your shoulder as he puts a necklace on you

You gasp. "Wonbin.." and he lifts himself up

"W-was it bad?? I could get you a new one o-or"

You'd have to stop him. "I love it."

"Oh." He'd say with a shy smile, looking down and wrapping you in a hug ♡

SEUNGHAN ☆

You guys were having your "loving" time

Seunghan holding you down on his lap as he starts to attack your neck with purplish bites

"Mm.. seunghan." He immediately stops, looking up at you with worried eyes

"Did i do something wrong? Did you not like it?" "Babe what are you talking about?" "You only call me hannie!!"

Then you'd have to explain that you like it, you really like it. "Oh." Then he continues ♡

SOHEE ☆

Sohee wouldnt wake up

"Hehe.. soso.. are you dead or something?"

You said his name, and he immediately shot up

"W-what happened? Am i late? Am i dreaming??"

You said his name again, shutting him up before cuddling with him ♡

ANTON ☆

You were in the bathroom when you shouted his name

Runs to you all worried and shocked because you never call him anton. Its usually babe or baby or ton or ant

"Baby are you okay?! Do you need pads or something?!" He figured you were on your period

"Do you think i could pass off as a dude?" You open the door revealing the makeup you used to show you mustache and beard

Takes a second to process before bursting out laughing "here, lemme help you." ♡

[rashoumon-homo]

WHAT’S IN THE BOX?!

Link to the fic

E | 5/5 | 12.5k | smut, humor, crack treated seriously

Due to a regrettable misunderstanding, Izuku opens a package meant for his hot neighbor, Bakugou. Worse yet, this is no ordinary package. It’s a delivery from a sex shop called “Planet Dildo.” Izuku’s choice to hand-return the package to Bakugou launches them both into a comedy of errors and (mostly) unintended embarrassment. And far too many sex toys.

Author’s Note: I've been working on this fic for like 8 months and I'm beyond excited to finally share it!! It's part of the BKDK bang, where I was paired up with the lovely Sofi, aka @/cantstopsimp on Bluesky and Twitter! Her art is embedded in Chapter 4 but the link is also here

Tag list: @little-miss-chaoss @gtfoqueen

[misettemisette]

Chapter 3 ➺ Calmly panicking 

Starting over In Madrid

Summary : After moving to Madrid as Real Madrid's new photographer, Nicky can’t seem to take her eyes off the pretty face Misa Rodríguez. But how will she handle her growing desire for the Canarian goalkeeper when her contract strictly forbids dating players? WC: 3K words TW: None PS: French writer

Chapter 1 ➺ A harder job than I thought  Chapter 2 ➺ Clearly on a bad slope 

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"That one’s actually very good, Hayley!" The camera screen displayed the goalkeeper in the air, her body suspended as she caught the ball in her gloves, droplets of sweat glistening on her forehead and scattering around her. Her thick brows furrowed in the effort. In addition to her beauty, what made the photo stand out was the technical challenge of capturing Misa’s moving body. 

Things were surprisingly going well at the Ciudad. Nothing had changed between Misa and me and, as I grew fond of my job, I was determined to keep it that way. We were having photo lessons almost every day after training sessions, sometimes joined by the northern girls Sofie, Freja and Caroline. But most of the time, it was the three of us that sat in a corner of the pitch, talking for hours until we were frozen from cold or until the staff finally kicked us out of the stadium. 

"Thanks Nicky! I’m thinking about buying a camera, I love photography for real!." Hayley boasted. 

"You should! The teacher says you’re ready". 

Hayley had indeed proven herself an implicated student. She had applied my technical advice but she had also been willing to experiment on her own. As a result, she showed a taste for moving models and lights effects. Sometimes she would capture sharp action shots, sometimes she’d rather set the presets to create blurry scenes where the bodies outlines melted in the background. 

As to Misa… well Misa’s photos were uniquely hers. She had trouble concentrating and her taste level was highly questionnable. She often added too much grain or contrast and every shot was oddly framed. When I tried to guide her toward subtler artistic choices, she would said "Pero me gusta el efecto!" or "Vale, Nicky, but I’m the artist" with her now well-known over-the-top mannerisms. Misa was much: pretty, athletic, funny, goofy… and stubborn. She was doing everything at a hundred per cent, except listening.

So, I was rather irritated when she sat on the grass, ostentatiously sulking because I hadn’t complimented her own work. Hayley, of course, wasn’t helping. "Maria Isabel hasn’t done her homework but wants to be praised!" 

"I did but the teacher doesn’t like me !" She moaned. 

"Maria Isabel should be in detention," I said calmly. 

"Por qué!? No!" She shot me an offended look and grumpily crossed her arms on her chest. 

"Porque no escuchas nada and the teacher is fed up." I was clearly enjoying myself at teasing Misa with the most calm. 

"You don’t like my style, that’s all." She laid on her back, arms still crossed. Hayley walked over her, bent and angled the camera into her face and started taking pictures of the moody girl. 

"It’s because you don’t have one, Sweetie" She said. Misa opened her mouth wide, outraged. She rolled over on her belly, hiding her face from Hayley unceasing photoshoot. "Come on Misa! I’m sure you can do better, you’re not even trying!" 

"I may have one last idea to help Misa get it…"Both head turned to me." There is a photo exhibit at Matadero Art Center just now. Maybe we should give it a try. And Misa will find what she likes." 

"That would be great!" said Hayley. She had stopped taking pictures and was now sat besides the goalkeeper. 

Misa moved to the side. "I already know what I like" she said frowning. We stared at her, eyebrows raised. "All right, we’ll go to your museo…" She sat up still pouting. "But before…" She stood up and reached out to me with an incredible speed. She easily heaved me into her arms and had me laying on my back before I knew what was happening. 

"Misaaaa what the fuck?!" 

Misa, on all fours over me, smirked and pinned me to the ground with her strong hands. "Let’s switch roles! Hayley come over and take some silly photos of Nicky for a change!" I was laughing hard and… getting aroused by Misa topping me. Her firms grasp and her weight were burying my hands into the grass. A naughty smile appeared on her beautiful face. 

"Let me go!" I shouted. I was breathing hard from struggling against her and from growing increasingly excited. Hayley clicked madly on the camera trigger. She couldn’t see Misa’s penetrating gaze. Was it me, or was she breathing harder too while keeping me pinned down didn’t seem to cost her in the slightest? I closed my eyes, too aware of the lens focused on me to meet Misa’s gaze. Too turned on by everything that was going on… apart from the oppressing clicking noise and the presence of Hayley. 

"I think we’re good, and it will be ugly, I promise" I heard Hayley. I felt the pressure of Misa’s hands disappeared, opened my eyes to find she had straightened up. Her legs on each side of my waist, she was peering down at me intensely. "I think you deserved that" she said, satisfied. 

"I don’t think I deserved that much" I responded, catching my breath. 

"You two, go get a room it’s becoming embarrassing! Ciudad is closing, we have to leave". I had almost forgotten Hayley. Her voice was taking me back to reality and we both smiled nervously. 

Misa got up, held out her hands to help me standing. As I took them she pulled me a bit too strongly, I lost balance and landed against her. My mouth touched the base of her neck only a second - she smelled a mix of sweat and perfume - as she steadied me in her arms an instant. "I just saved the teacher, does it mean I’m no longer in detention ?" She released me. She hadn’t lost her smirk. 

I composed myself again and immediately adopted my authoritarian tone. 

"You are grounded for a month, both of you! And in detention at the museum without question!”

***

I called Angela on the evening. I felt the urge to talk. Not especially about me. I just wanted to feel the connection with my best mate again but surely the conversation topic went on my new footballer friends. 

"… and you’ve given them photo lessons almost every day ? Wow, Nicky I didn’t know you had that kind of patience !" 

"How you would you know Angela, Madrid is changing me. I am a much more sensible and patient person." 

"Still hard to believe… Anyway, I’m glad you hang with them. I like this Hayley… Fuck the clause! I would have seen you getting together. She has a sensitive side like you and seems fun !"

"Humm, no Hayley’s a friend." I was laying down in my bed, calling Angela for at least an hour and a half now. I pictured Hayley in my mind. In derry, she was the total package and the two of us were really getting along well. But as pretty as she was, I wasn’t attracted by her. Despite all my efforts, I kept getting caught up in my attraction to Misa. Her poor photographer skills and moody behavior were so endearing to me and I felt more and more charmed by the goalkeeper’s whole personality. 

"Nicky, are you there?" I hadn’t realized I had stopped listening. 

"Sorry? What?" 

"I was saying I admire you, just being friend with such hotties! I couldn’t!

"Yeah, incredible right?! I closed my eyes, I was sure Angela had heard the nervousness of my tone.  

"Oh no Nicky! Which one?!" I smiled. It felt good she knew me so well.

"You won’t believe it…" 

"Spit it out !"

"It’s Misa…" I was gazing at the ceilling, my absent smile widened as I spoke her name. 

"Misa?? But she seems… I mean you don’t seem to have a lot in common."

"I know, anyway I shouldn’t even think about it…"

"But you do… ?" 

I heavily sighed. Misa’s smirking face appeared in front of my eyes. "Yes… but I also think about the clause, the fact that I’m bound to it, that my working visa depends on this job that I love, and so is my lease…"

"Ok, ok! Nicky it’s alright, calm down. You’re finding a girl cute, what a big deal? You’re at least allowed that! You are not doing anything wrong, you’re not doing anything at all, relax!" 

"You’re right" As usual, Angela had found the words to reassure me. "But still, fucking clause!" I sweared. 

"Fucking clause…", Angela echoed. 

***

I received a message from Hayley the morning before the exhibition visit. 

"My family just paid me a surprise visit! They came from Sidney, I had no idea !!! This is crazy. Sorry about the museum, I really wanted to go but I’ll spend the day with them. I’m so happy" 

I replied that it was okay and told her to enjoy her family time. Then I texted Misa. 

"Hayley’s family just showed up and she can’t come. Do you still want to go?"

Misa’s text bubble appeared and disappeared a few times, leaving me wondering what answer I was wishing for. 

"Do I have a choice? I thought this was my punishment…" 

I grinned, loving her playful side. Or was she … flirting? 

"You’re right but the teacher would rather you go to detention willingly." 

"huh the teacher wants a lot. What else does the teacher want from me?" 

I gasped. She was flirting! My mind ran wild, imagining the countless things I craved from Misa. I exhaled deeply, tried to focus again as I pictured myself passionately kissing her. I had to regain control of my mind and bury the surging wave of desire I felt at the mere idea of Misa wanting to give me what I dreamt of. 

"Teacher wants you to have a good time", was the most diplomatic and sober answer I could come up with. I quickly added, "See you then", to put a stop to that dangerous conversation. 

"I’d say let’s see what happens. See you, Nicky"

Wow, she was really going! How the hell was I going to survive the afternoon?! 

***

I was gulping hard when I joined Misa at the entrance of the Matadero Arts Center of Madrid. I felt so tense when we hugged, but Misa appeared to be her usual self. Once again, she gave no sign that something was going on between us and once again I wondered if I had misjudged her intentions. 

We headed inside. The center consisted of many huge bricked buildings that used to be old slaughterhouses. None of the previous gloomy functions of the place remained, it was now very pleasant to walk through the large aisles between the red buildings. In the middle of the afternoon, the sun was beating down hard on our heads, giving me a glimpse of spring in Madrid. Misa was looking all around us, shielding her dazzled eyes with her hand. "It’s a shame I’ve never been there before, despite living all these years in Madrid" 

A few minutes later, we reached the exhibition hall. I bought the tickets. Misa followed me closely. She was clearly out of her element as we moved through the vast hall. The exhibition was called "Deportes: fotografía en movimiento" and showcased various approaches to photographing athletes. I was surprised to see Misa so focused. She looked at each photo, pausing for long time when something seemed to interest or intrigued her. 

"Misa, look at this one" The framed picture showed gymnasts performing incredible acrobatic tricks. "Look at the geometric composition, that's what I was trying to explain about framing."

Misa nodded enthusiastically. "I think I get it now, yes. But I’ve found what I want to do." 

She took my hand and led me to a quieter corner where another series of photos was displayed on the walls. 

"Wait, what ?" I blurted out. There were cats and dogs on every picture, and even a baby pig. 

"They are the athletes’ pets" She said happily. She hadn’t let go of my hand. "I think I want to photograph animals, or nature." 

She faced me with the cutest smile, and thought I had severe doubts this would help Misa progress technically, I replied "Yes! Okay! Let’s give naturalistic photography a try!". 

She smiled even wider, her hand still in mine, and her fingers softly stroked my palm as she loosened her grip. I started to panic. Her lips formed a more subtle smile as she watched me uncertainly. She took a step forward. I had to react quickly, but I didn’t want her to feel rejected. 

"Come on, I’m taking you to the park along the river. There is plenty of birds and plants for you to photograph." I grasped her hand again to lead us out of the hall and away from the prickly situation. 

However, as we arrived at the park, I realized I had put myself in an even more perilous situation. The sun was setting. A light breeze was blowing in the trees. Birds were melodiously tweeting nearby. An empty bench shielded from the view was waiting for us at the end of a very lovely flowered-lined path. I tried hard not to look at Misa. She was walking close to me, unusually quiet. I dared to take a look at her. She caught my sidelong glance, and a shy smile appeared on her lips. What did I do? She was probably getting all wrong, imagining I had chosen such a romantic place on purpose! 

We reached the oh-so-welcoming bench. None of us spoke as we sat. I stared into the distance, feeling my heart pounding hard in my chest. Misa was looking down at her laps, suddenly timid. I had to say something. 

"Maybe you could start by photographing those flowers," I suggested as a diversion. "The red and blue ones that look like the Barça kit. See, I’ve learned about football." I added wanting to diminish the growing tension. 

"Oh no Barça please…" She ran a hand across her face. I had clearly said the wrong thing. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you" I said, putting my hand on her shoulder. Her long hair was partially hiding her face. "Do… do you want to talk about it ?" I asked hesitantly and she tensed. 

"You don’t know about the Clásico. We keep loosing against them every times, and honestly, I’m used to it. It’s okay even though I’m doing my best but…" her voice trailed down as she took a deep breath. "Next Clásico is one week away and that’s the finale of the Copa de la Reina." She lifted her head to look me in the eyes. "I don’t know if I can take the pressure this time..." She was talking so openly to me. The fierce and funny goalkeeper was allowing her vulnerable side to finally surface. 

That was when I realized I cared for her. 

I pulled Misa into a hug. She sighed deeply, resting her face against my neck. "You can do it Misa. I haven’t known you for very long but I’m certain that you can." She stayed there, her heavy breathing gently blowing my hair. 

"I really want to win!" She almost cried. "We keep improving but we haven’t won any Spanish championship! Quiero ganar, ostia! »

She lifted her head again and I stopped hugging her. I was glad to see a frustrated grin back on her face. "You can do it! Hala Madrid! I feel like part of the family now." I genuinely said to boost her up. She let out a soft laugh, running her fingers through her hair and took my hand again.

 "Gracias" she muttered. Her brown eyes found mine again. Her expression was so soft at this very moment. Her gaze went down to my mouth. Her slightly parted lips quivered. I wanted to kiss her so bad. My chest was about to explode as I slowly moved my face closer to hers.

At that precise moment, a loud buzzing sound came from Misa's pocket, making us both jump in fear. Misa straightened herself and took her phone out. I slid apart on the bench, exhaling a mix of relief and deep frustration. 

"Hola Jenni", Misa answered in a slightly irritated voice. "No, no conozco las noticias…" She rolled her eyes at me. I was too shaken to be amused by the situation. Misa and Jenni kept on talking on the phone. In fact, it was more like Misa was listening to an unstoppable Jenni. I wasn’t getting much of the quickly flowing Spanish of Misa. Besides, I was once again lost deep in my thoughts. My heart and reason were battling heavily against each other while Misa was getting seriously annoyed the call wouldn’t finish. She was finding hard to get a world between her best friend's endless sentences. She turned to me,  mouthing ‘Perdón!’ several times as I scrolled mechanically through my phone. 

As minutes passed, night started to fall when Misa finally hung up. "I’m so sorry! I should never have taken that call !" She sighed. 

I got up quickly "No problem. But it’s getting late, we should get going". Reason had won over heart for now. Or at least, chance had bought me time to really sort things out. Misa looked up at me, surprised. She hadn’t expected that. This time I didn’t dared to even glance at her. When I gave her no reaction, she let her head fall in her hands. I heard her taking a deep breath before she finally stood up and began following me.

Lulled by the gentle sway of the train, a part of me had calmed down. An other part of me was going crazy for real. Misa wanted me. A calm, almost pleasant panic filled me entirely on the way home. 

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[alphabetboyluvr]

back to you | knj

REQUEST | @btsgotjams27

VIBES | angst 

SOUNDTRACK | back to you - alexander stewart

HOLLY'S NOTE | tense jaw namjoon gets me feeling a certain type of way so thank youuuu for requesting this!! no warnings - references to shagging cos ofc and approx (1) questionable reference to Saint Augustine lmao. also joonie is 25 in this!! don't shout at me!! i know he's not 25 irl!!

WORD COUNT | 2.5k

Namjoon watches the metronome on his desk tick... tick... tick..., ignoring the glare of the monitor screens in front of him.

There are two. One's open on the definition of a word that's been lodged in his frontal lobe for months, now, and the other is crammed full to the brim with dark grey producing software that he's sick of seeing. The windows open encase remnants of love songs that he can't seem to finish. 

It's not for a lack of trying. Just impossible, he thinks. 

They're an amalgamation of a love he never thought he'd lose, and the hopes of a future basking in it; notes of adoration dedicated to a devotion he didn't realise was quite so delicate, until his clumsy hands got a hold of it. 

Mementoes for memories he can't bring himself to relive, they sit; solemn, unchanged. It's been like this for months. They're artefacts, now. Relics. Souvenirs. Trophies of a conquest he never entirely won; a bygone era in which his hair was lighter and the sun shone more frequently. Eventually, they'll be laid to rest in the paper waste icon down in the far corner of his screen. 

No good. Not fit for use. Discarded before they've reached full maturity. 

"Maturity," he mimics the screen with great contempt. He's 25. Brain's developed. Science says so. 

And yet the loss he's mourning is all thanks to his perceived 'maturity,' or lack thereof. 

It's not like you're dead, or anything dramatic like that. He knows he's being irrational. Knows his immaturity is shining through as he wallows in self-pity, four empty takeout cups of coffee waiting to be thrown away on the edge of his desk. He only leaves the studio to shower. 

Doesn't even really sleep much these days. Has grown a little stubble; wonders if maybe that would make you think he was more mature. More grown-up. He sneers a little as he jots down a lyric idea; something about fine wine, how it ages, and how it was ironic you preferred cheap-as-shit soju instead of the bottles in his cooler.

In fact, when he really thinks about it, Namjoon thinks you were fucking mad to cite 'maturity' as a reason for you to break up. 

He's old before his time; grew up quickly cause he didn't have a choice. Took it as an insult when you said 'we're at different stages in our lives.' Knows damn well he'd have stood on any stage with you. Fuck Wembley, fuck Jamsil, fuck SoFi. Fuck 'em all if they meant he couldn't have you.

But Namjoon would never give it up. You knew this at the time, and truthfully, so did he. 

You would have never asked him to - but you can't dictate your life around him, and his plans, and his obligations. You've desires and goals of your own. Five years his senior, the impending pressures of your friends settling down - celebrating milestone anniversaries, moving back to your hometown to raise their families after their wild twenties spent in the big cities - was getting to you. It felt like you were lagging behind. 

Whether either of you liked it or not, your relationship was a huge factor in that. You couldn't even tell your friends you were dating him. It's not like you ever wanted a huge legacy, but the erasure of your history together hurt. 

A year of your life has been lost to a relationship that you can never speak of. There's an NDA. And even if there wasn't, you've too much respect for him to ever go against his wishes, or put him in a situation that could implode everything he's worked so tirelessly for.

So yeah, maybe you were out of line when you said he was immature, but no adult woman wants to live her life in hiding.

Nor does he - but he thinks the fact he that makes the conscious choice to live his life so privately is mature. Thinks if you were ever to call him, he'd block you. Show you what immature really looks like.

But you never do, so he never will.

Instead, he just scoffs again. "Immature," he mutters, shaking his head as he slouches into his desk chair. It spins ever so gently, Namjoon too irritated to stop it - but then he's facing the sofa and he's right back where he started.

See, Namjoon has been thinking a lot about you lately. It's time to submit his mixtape to the company; time for them to approve it for release. Trouble is, he hasn't been able to work on it since you left. 

You've been in California for eight months. Since last August. Eight fucking months, and he hasn't touched a single thing, because it's all tainted with you. Stained. Ruined. 

It's your favourite classical symphony sampled beneath the opening track; your lyrical suggestion in the bridge of his third track; your name he wordplays into obscurity on his fifth track. No one would ever be able to decipher it. It's just for him.

A little bit of you preserved forevermore; from a time when you were still his.

Kind of like the folder his mouse is hovering over. 

It's password protected. Called 'drafts'. Looks inconspicuous. Just another plain folder icon. Nothing interesting. At least, it looks that way. 

He can't bring himself to get rid of it - and yet the tick... tick... tick... of his metronome becomes the click-click-click of his mouse as he follows the electronic pathway back to you.  

Namjoon enters the password. Knows he shouldn't. Knows he should also change the password, because typing in your birthday is fucking painful at this point.  

There are six files in the folder. Voice notes. Audio files marked with dates and time stamps of last summer. 

Above anything, he knows he shouldn't press play.

But he's 'immature'. Of course he'll do what he shouldn't - or at least that's how the voice in his head taunts him as he presses down on the play icon.

"Is it going?" Your voice echoes into the room. You giggle. Namjoon hears himself confirm that it is. He can picture it now. Remembers the shirt of his you'd been wearing after he'd snuck you into the company building. Knows exactly which part of his studio sofa you'd been on. "Okay, okay. Cool. What do you want me to do?"

"Just speak."

His voice sounds tender. Far softer than it does these days. He thinks he's grown since back then. Thinks he's matured. Thinks maybe if you'd have met him now, instead of then, perhaps it would have lasted.

"About what?" You had said with a laugh, and Namjoon finds himself burying his head in his hands at his desk.

"Anything. Everything. Your mind fascinates me, gorgeous."

"You're the one with genius-level, IQ," you had fondly teased him. "No one more fascinating than you. Did you really have to wear those sweats, though? You know they turn my mind to jelly."

"I can take them off, if it'll help."

"Keep them on," your voice had lowered. In the studio, Namjoon groans into his hands. Knows what's coming next. "Wanna see how much of a mess I make when I ride your-"

His nimble fingers race to the space bar, pausing the audio clip. Has listened to it enough times to know exactly what happens afterwards. 

It's not like he needs the recording to remember. He remembers it all. 

Remembers the semi he'd had at the time, and how the way you'd looked at him had him growing to full stiffness. Remembers the way you'd carried on talking nonsense when you were straddled across his thigh; and the way the conversation had dissolved into you being incredibly vocal about exactly what you wanted him to do with you. To you. For you.

And so it had become a goal: he'd been after the perfect moan to hide deep within the layers of his closing track. Would record you every now and again in the midst of a fuck. Would tell you how good you sound, how much he wants the world to hear you. Would say shit like 'you've got a voice that'll ruin lives, gorgeous,' or something about Augustine, and how he'd have never converted to celibacy if he'd have met you. Would whine along with you, and thank the lucky stars his apartment spanned over two floors - his poor neighbours probably would have complained, otherwise. 

He puffs out his cheeks and sighs. Tilts his head back against the top of his chair, and lets his hand fall to his crotch. He palms it slightly; firm from the thoughts of your clammy body sticking to his, and the musky scent that he wished he could have bottled up for times like these.

"Get a grip," he berates himself, and spins back to the desk. He needs to get his feelings out. Speak them into existence. Admit that he misses you, and that he's been a bit of a mess since you've been gone. His mental block isn't going away anytime soon, so he may as well try a little honesty in its place. 

He opens up the software for the mic that he keeps on his desk for rough recordings, and clicks on the red circle. Kind of feels kind of like a stop sign to him.

"Stop what?" he questions into the void. "Thinking about her? Avoiding her favourite coffee shop, even though it was mine too? Wasting all this fucking space in my brain like it's a storage unit for memories of her? I don't want them. I don't need them. Why can't I let them go? Why is she still in my head? And why am I scared of the day she won't be?"

He rambles and he rambles. Cries not once but four times.  Goes on and on about why you're the fucking worst, and then he spirals into how much he loves the way you laugh, and how he's never felt anything better than your arms wrapped around his waist. Gushes about how committed you are to your work, and how much he's in awe of the way you prioritise yourself. Is proud when he mentions your achievements; is pissed off when he mentions the little quirks of yours he didn't love.

They're lies, of course. He loved everything you did - but it makes him feel better to feign hatred.

Makes him feel like it was his choice. Like he's the one who left. 

He's pulled from his thoughts when his phone begins to ring. It's on loud, so he lets it ring for a bit. Knows it could sound good on the recording. He reaches over for his phone and rubs his spare hand over his face to psyche himself up. 

It's probably just Yoongi, he thinks, like it normally is, wondering if he's at the office building. He doesn't check the caller ID - just answers it and automatically switches to speakerphone. 

"Wassup?" He says into the receiver, far chirpier than he was during his rant. He's still a little dry, but he's performing now. Pretending like everything is fine.

There's a moment of silence. Namjoon's eyes flick to his phone screen. Checks the caller ID. Blood runs cold.

And then, there's a 'hey.' 

Namjoon is the silent one, now. Doesn't know what to fucking say - and thankfully, you hate empty spaces in conversations. 

So you fill it. 

"I quit my job," you tell him. 

Why you think he would care is beyond him.

But the last he knew, you loved your job. Something feels... uneasy within him. He remains silent. Lets you speak.

"There's a red-eye flight that leaves in four hours. LA to Seoul. I know it's..." You cut yourself off, struggling to find the right words to say. "Look, I know it's been eight months, and I know it's been rough. I thought I could do this whole 'life' thing without you, Nam, but... Fuck. I don't think I can. I... I think maybe I was the one who needed to mature. I know I put you through hell, but if I get on that flight, will you be there at the other end?"

It's a simple question, really - yes or no - yet it feels so much heavier than that. Feels like commitment. Feels like something he isn't ready for. Feels like something you rescinded your right to a long fucking time ago.

And so Namjoon laughs. It's cold. Is guaranteed to make you cry. He doesn't care.

"No."

The call ends, his finger forcefully tapping on the red button of his phone. He knows it'll hurt. Thinks 'good'. Reckons you deserve it. 

But then he's scrambling; dialling your number back, holding his phone to ear, stomach in his throat, heart in tatters, swallowing back tears that threaten to fall on his part. 

Being a cunt was much less satisfying than he thought it would be. In fact, if anything, it makes him feel even fucking worse. 

All he wants is to see you. It's the only thing he wants.

You take a while to answer. He was right. It did make you cry. Mainly because you know you do deserve it. 

There's no 'hello' when you answer. You say sorry, instead. "It was out of line for me to ask."

"Yeah," he says. "Kinda was."

"I just... I had to know. Eight months is a long time, isn't it? It's really fucking long."

Namjoon pauses. Bites down on his lip as it shakes. Sighs. "The flight... when does it land?"

"Nine-thirty."

"A.M.?"

"Yes."

"Into Incheon?"

"Uh-huh."

He can hear the tears you're fighting. Wonders if you can hear his. 

"Get the flight," he finally says. "I'll meet you there."

"Wait... are you sur-"

He doesn't let you finish. He's had eight months of fucking torture without you. Eight months to think about all the things he wishes he could have done differently, eight months to play scenarios in his head. Eight months. 

He can't go through it again. Can't be without you. It's too fucking hard. 

"Get your ass on that flight," he says, stern in his tone. 

"It's one-way," you warn him.

And even though you can't see him, you know there's a dimple in his cheek. Know he's smiling. Know it feels like a weight has lifted from his chest, because it feels that way for you, too.

"It better fucking be."

[la-girlblogger-avec-toi]

welcome to my (girl)blog!

୨꒰ about me ꒱ৎ

Zionists/Pro Israel DNI and gtfo of land that isn’t yours <3

this is sort of a digital diary for my thoughts i know the girlies share!

go right ahead and ask me anything in my asks!!!

im only 17, idk anything

loving pink since 2007

i love gilmore girls w all my heart!!

DNI IF DDLG/ED BLOG

i love love looooove taylor swift, françoise hardy is my it girl, and i’m getting into lana del rey and hozier!

i also like more early alternative, my absolute favorite of all time being the velvet underground

i speak french, english and spanish!!

(that means in this blog there will probably be analysis/omg literally me of literature/music in spanish and french too)

i am either a softie or the incarnation of female rage!! still the sweetest girl in town, xoxoxo!

taurus sun, leo rising, libra moon (the prettiest mess indeed)

enfp/infp!

intuitive eater, anti dieter, best choice of my life

amy dunne is god

enjoy your time here!

xoxo,

-sofi

pasting my mutuals names here so I can tag later! (don’t hesitate to send me an ask to be mutuals!)

@angelspearlheart @strawberriesandcinnamon @rebel-grrrl444 @madwom4nstan @bunviiebab3 @strwbunnies555 @romeosxworld @possumluvr

@starfish458