#tags I get when pressing D on the keyboard

[supernova3110]

Tags i get when pressing a certain letter on the keyboard

[nereidprinc3ss]

relax

in which spencer helps university student reader de-stress after a particularly exhausting assignment

18+ (smut) warnings: fingering, overstimulation, happy crying, lowkey softdom spencer, slight d/s dynamics, reader is referred to as a girl, ????idk i've never had to tag for smut before lols wc: 2624 a/n: been doing some insane literary cooking. lots of smut AND more fluff in the works (all uni reader... lol... ). idk if i love this but again need to fucking get it out of my word doc so here u go, PLEASE lmk if you like it!!

You don’t even realize the room has gone completely dark until Spencer comes in the front door and flicks on the light. 

“Why did you do that?” you snap immediately, looking up from your laptop screen for the first time in potentially hours, blinking hard as your eyes painfully adjust. Your boyfriend gives you an odd look. 

“Hello to you too...” 

“I’m sorry. Hi. How was dinner?” 

“It was good,” he says, crossing the room to the couch that has been your entire world for the past five hours. You sigh, releasing some of the tension in your shoulders when he leans down to kiss your head and set down a to-go box on the coffee table. “Have you moved since I left?” 

“...no,” you admit, moving your eyes dejectedly to the keyboard.  

“You made progress,” he appeases, leaning over you to angle the laptop upward. Immediately you wrench it away, holding it protectively against your chest. 

“Stop! I don’t want you to read it yet!” 

“I could help you with it though,” he pleads, bracing a hand on the arm of the couch. You look up into his hazel eyes, where he’s definitely playing up the puppy dog factor. His tie brushes your stomach, and he smells like lavender and clove and-- 

“You need to go away,” you realize, snapping back to reality and shrinking into the couch, away from him—trying to escape his all-encompassing sensory presence.  

“Wh- I just got back!” he scoffs, straightening. 

“You’re distracting me,” you accuse, throwing him a baleful look. 

“I’m literally offering to help you.” 

“And I’m respectfully declining because I care too much about your opinion to show you this essay until it’s less terrible. I really just need a couple more hours to finish it, please?” 

Spencer sighs, regarding your pitiful state before moving to sit down next to you. Automatically you move your legs out of the way before settling them in his lap and damn it he’s supposed to be going away. Your iron grip on the laptop involuntarily loosens a little as his hands begin to run back and forth over your legs. No—you must stay focused.  

“Spencer,” you whine, flopping your head back. You let the implied complaint hang in the air. 

“You’ve been writing all day. Your brain is exhausted, and your synapses aren’t firing at a rate that is intellectually productive.” 

“What is the point of having a brain if I can’t even use it half the time!” you almost-shout, pressing the palms of your hands into your eyes until you see fireworks.  

The couch shifts and you feel the warm, robotic weight of the laptop unpin you as Spencer lifts it from your lap. “Don’t read it,” you beg, watching through parted fingers as he sets it on the coffee table, and relaxing slightly when he settles back into the couch.  

“Come here,” he says, holding out an arm. Too mentally exhausted to do anything but comply, you pull yourself up just enough to fall into him. Immediately he wraps his arms around you, one hand slipping under your shirt to rub your back in hypnotizing passes. “I think you burnt yourself out,” he mutters. 

You nod into his shoulder, surrendering yourself to his warmth, letting yourself sink into a lavender-clove fog, wanting nothing more than to dissolve into it. The darkness behind your eyes glows an inviting amber, threatening to pull you under...  

But the essay... 

“Stop thinking about the essay,” he demands. 

“But I have so much to do,” you sigh against his jacket, the words coming out muffled. 

“The best thing you can do now is give your brain a rest. I promise you you’re not making that paper any better if you’re exhausted.” 

“I am not exhausted,” you insist, although your eyes are still closed, “I’m just really stressed.”  

Spencer hums, continuing to rub your back.  

“Do you need me to help you relax?” he says innocently. 

Oh? 

One of your eyes opens to peer up at him suspiciously. He sweeps some of your hair out of your face. 

“Because I would be happy to.” A moment passes—him looking down at you fondly; you wondering if you’re picking up what he’s putting down. 

“And how would you go about doing that?” you ask suspiciously. 

“Orgasms reduce tension and stress and improve brain function.” 

Damn. Why did the nerdiest, most un-sexy pickup line ever just turn you on?

You groan, burying your face further into his shirt—mostly to hide any trace of a blush. 

“You know what else would reduce stress and improve brain functioning? Taking an Adderall and finishing my fucking essay.”  

“Angel, you're such a smart girl, and you are fully capable of doing whatever you set your mind to—but I will lock your laptop in my gun safe before I let you look at that essay again tonight.” He speaks so softly, and his fingers are still gently combing through your messy hair... all in all, you put up a good fight, right? Maybe you should just listen to him...

“... fine.” you say eventually, reluctant to give in too quickly even though the idea quickly has filled your stomach with butterflies. 

“Fine?” he says, pausing his motions as you turn your head just enough to look up at him. “Sounds like you don’t really want it, baby. Maybe we should just go to sleep. Or I could take you back to your-” 

“Spence,” you whine, gently grabbing the front of his shirt. Now he’s going to make you beg? As if it wasn’t his idea? Those puppy dog eyes of his are deceiving. 

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” he sighs, hand moving from your hair to your outer thigh. 

“Please?” you whisper, dignity forgotten as you look up at him imploringly. 

“Lean back, sweet girl,” he says, helping you adjust your position til you’re lying against his chest, legs sprawled across the couch. Your head lolls on his shoulder, intoxicated by his close proximity. “Perfect. Such a good listener.” 

Normally, you’d be quick to make a defensive remark, but with the way he’s slowly hiking your shirt up, running his hands over your sides so lightly it gives you goosebumps—you're really in no position to argue. Your eyes flutter shut as his hands grow bolder in their explorations, crossing your stomach, fingers just slipping under the waistband of your shorts and skimming over your hipbones before coming back up. 

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs, and you nod lazily, apparently losing access to your language facilities after running them dry all day. Unfortunately, that doesn’t seem good enough for your boyfriend. “Do you remember when the last time I touched you like this was?” 

Through the hazy blur of your exhaustion, you try to think back. Was it... two days ago? Three? More? 

“Almost a week ago,” he supplies the answer for you when you take too long. What? That can’t be right. 

But when you think about it harder... it is right. It was right before finals week started.  

An errant hand straying up your torso distracts you. “Do you remember what I did?” 

You flush. 

“You... yeah,” is the best you can offer, too flustered to say exactly what he did to your body. That stray hand moves over your breast. Your back arches just slightly at the stimulation through the thin fabric of your bra.  

Thankfully, he lets you off the hook.  

“I made you cum three times, right?” 

“Mhm,” you hum through closed lips, tense with anticipation as he finally slides both hands down to your shorts and wordlessly directs you to lift your hips so he can pull them all the way off along with your underwear. 

“You’ve been so busy lately, huh. Working so hard.” 

You unconsciously drop your bent legs open, brain too foggy to be insecure about how utterly bare you are—allowing him to slowly rub up and down your inner thigh. 

“I’m gonna make you feel good, honey. I don’t think three times was enough for such a stressful week.” 

You gasp when his fingers finally brush your clit, whimpering slightly when they just barely skim your entrance before tracing the wetness back up.  

“Give me your hand,” Spencer says, taking his own from between your legs and holding it up. You don’t even think about it, releasing your grip on the arm he now has wrapped around you and holding it out for him. At this point, you’d do anything he tells you to without hesitation.  

He takes the proffered hand, gently guiding it back between your legs. Your fingers meet slick, soft warmth. “Do you feel how wet you are?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, seeing how your fingers glisten when you pull them away. His remain, running slowly up and down your clit. Your brain seems to be vibrating in your skull as warmth spreads throughout your body. 

“Who’s that for?” 

“You, Spencer,” you whimper. He hums in approval before the room falls into silence as you both watch his teasing intently, your breath baited as you try to be patient. But your body isn’t with the program, you keep twisting slightly, your hips cant upward. “Please, please,” the words escape on a held exhalation as you finally break, arching your back against him as your search for more friction.  

Without warning, he sinks two fingers inside you. The slight stretch after not having taken anything in a week scratches an itch you didn’t even know you had, and you let out a broken moan. 

“I know, honey. You’re so good, I know.” Spencer kisses your head as he speaks over your cry, barely moving his fingers for a few moments while you get comfortable. 

Still you’re not ready for it when he withdraws and pushes back in. 

“Look at that,” he breathes. 

“Oh, fuck,” you choke, watching how your arousal completely coats his fingers as he slowly, slowly begins to fuck you with them. 

Again you feel the vibrations in his chest as he laughs slightly—probably at your earlier insistence that you didn’t desperately want this. The laughter fades as you both become entranced by the sight of his fingers disappearing into you, and your stomach twists with pleasure. His pace remains languid, and he seems to delight in the filthy, wet sounds his hand is producing between your legs.  

“You okay, baby?” he asks after a moment, seemingly snapping out of some trance. 

“Uh huh,” you whimper. One particular drag of his fingers at just the right angle has you dizzy, and then he’s speeding up. Your jaw drops at the change in pace and your hips chase his hand, wanting even more. 

“So pretty,” he mutters as his other hand moves to spread you open.  

You attempt to shut your legs around his wrist, but instead he just ruts his fingers deeper into you, palm pressed against your clit. You attempt to twist away from the extreme stimulation, but he doesn’t allow it. 

“Too much,” you squeak, bucking your hips inadvertently. 

“No it’s not,” he states, like you’re talking about the weather. 

“Spencer, I really c- ah- can't!” 

“It feels like a lot, huh?” he asks soothingly, not letting up one bit. 

“Yes!” you cry, eyes stinging as tears begin to well. 

“You’re okay, angel. It’s just been a while.” 

You are so completely fucked. Each stroke of his hand feels like an electric jolt through your whole body. It is too much, but at the same time, pleasure is pooling deep in your stomach and at the base of your spine and you never want him to stop. You throw your head back onto Spencer’s shoulder, eyes screwed shut.  

“Relax,” he mutters, carefully bearing down the pressure across your waist with his arm to try and keep you from squirming. 

A rhythmic whine breaks through the barrier of your sealed lips as you focus all your energy into taking it, when the all-consuming need to kiss him hits you. You twist your neck to look up at him, observing the furrow of his brow and the way he’s tucked his bottom lip into a bite. Thankfully he notices your movement—his eyes dart from your own half-lidded gaze to your lips and he understands what you want. 

The kiss is messy and the angle is awkward and you’re moaning into his mouth half the time anyway, but it feels so good to have his lips moving on yours that you don’t care about any of it.  

“I—ah,” you cry into him, unable to form a coherent thought as your stomach drops like you’re mounting the peak of a roller coaster. 

His fingers again change their angle and he finds the spot inside you that makes your legs spasm. Attempting to hold in whatever noises you were making is now futile—the whimpers and pants turn to full-fledged keening moans interspersed with taut silences as you fail to breathe properly.  

Your wrench your gaze and lips away from Spencer to watch through a blurry haze the rapid movement of his hand between your bare legs, the way your hips buck and twist and the way your leg bends as he hooks his free hand under your knee and hoists it toward your chest. 

“You’re doing so well, honey. Being so good for me.” 

Moisture spills over from your eyes, tracing down your cheeks and down your neck as you begin to come with no warning and a desperate, broken cry. 

A string of praise from Spencer underscores your pleading moans, but you can’t focus on anything other than the buzzing warmth emanating from your core, the bright, pulsing white that blinds you and the feeling of stardust flowing through your veins. 

Your boyfriend continues pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you for a blissful few moments, before sensing the tail-end of your orgasm and bringing his fingers up to rub lazy circles over your clit. Aftershocks resonate from the hypersensitive area and make you clamp your legs shut around his hand as your toes curl and you attempt to squirm out of his grip. 

“Done! I’m done,” you squeak, rocking your hips back and forth to try and escape his toying. 

“Okay, okay,” he soothes, relieving the pressure of his hand between your legs and moving it to run over your stomach as you come down. 

You lie in silence for a minute, enjoying the liquid sensation weighing down your muscles and basking in the warm afterglow of your orgasm.  

“Shit,” you breathe shakily after a moment. Spencer chuckles. You manage to turn yourself over, laying your cheek on his shoulder and slipping your arms under his waist. He looks down at you as he moves on to massaging your back and bare hips, eyes full of warm adoration.  

“Feel better?” 

You hum an affirmation, wiping your eyes on his shirt. 

“Oh, honey, did I make you cry?” 

You laugh into his chest and nod, a few stray tears leaking from your shut eyes. “It’s okay. Not sad tears.” 

“What kind of tears?” 

“Orgasm tears,” you mumble, a tidal wave of exhaustion you’d been fighting all day finally washing over you. 

“That makes sense. Orgasms can be cathartic or even therapeutic depending on your head space. Major losses and life changes are often associated with sexual dysfunction but the opposite is actually just as if not more common. A spike in libido can—” 

Spencer pauses, looking down to see that you’re either asleep or close to it, and smiles to himself. You’ll probably be mad about it when you wake up, but he had to get you to stop thinking about that paper somehow. 

[cheollipop]

HIII :D

Can you write a little drabble about dom Yunho and fem reader ignoring eachother after an argument and so y/n comes up with a plan to tease Yunho while he’s busy ignoring her and playing video games and then he ends up getting worked up and it then leads to rough sex 🙈 (sorry if this is too much lol)

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

hi anonnie!! this... thisssssss egsjbks omg gamer bf!yunho AND mad!yunho?? yummy YUMMY- ahem, this was very fun to write, and i may have gone a bit overboard with it oopsie. also, been in a playful mood lately, so you get bratty!reader~ happy reading ^^

pairing: jeong yunho x fem!reader

w.c.: 1.6k

tags: smut, oral (m), make-up sex, lots of cum talk bc... teehee, yunho's kinda mad but turns soft, reader's a little brat ><

nsfw under cut—minors dni!

Eyes trained on the screen before him, spattered splotches of red masking his point of view as his player failed to block the incoming stream of bullets, his fingers stuttering over his keyboard as loud yelling blasted into Yunho’s ears, his friends’ voices contained within the worn-down cushions of his headset. His eyebrow twitched in annoyance, partly because of the insults being thrown his way as he struggled to aim his sniper, but mainly at his inability to recall how the argument he’d had with you a couple hours ago had even started. He wracked his brain for an answer, but all he came up with was the menacing smile stretching your lips when you walked into the room hours after he’d stormed off, opting to bully eleven-year-olds online with his friends, camping at their spawn point and watching them grow frustrated with his unfair tactics.

The situation flipped, though, once your smile disappeared underneath his desk, your body hidden under the polished wood, and Yunho nearly cursed at the missed view of your delicate hands undoing the strings of his sweatpants. He wasn’t mad at you, he could never be, even more so when you had your fingers wrapped around his cock, tongue drawing circles around his head and collected the occasional spurts of precum as he grew harder in your grasp. He shuffled in his seat, containing a groan before it could leave his lips when you took his length down your throat, your lips meeting the digits wrapped around his girth before pulling off for air. Yunho wasn’t sure how many games he’d lost so far, only that his friends were growing frustrated with his silence, but he didn’t dare speak, knowing his voice would give away the nature of the situation he was in.

Brushing off the blonde locks obscuring his vision, he attempted to return to his position at the enemy’s base, only for you to flatten your tongue along the underside of his cock while sliding him back into your mouth, waiting until the tip prodded at your uvula before swallowing around it. To his luck, the startled grunt drawn out of him aligned with his teams’ nth loss, and his friends returned to their endless berating.

You pulled off him again, resting your head high enough on his thigh to stare up at his flushed face over the edge of his desk—eyes glazed over and unfocused as they gazed back at you, his lips bitten raw and a pretty rose tinting his neck and the sliver of his chest peeking at you over his collar. Your hand remained on him to smear your saliva down his length, squeezing at his base and back up to twirl around his cockhead, all while watching his composure slowly breaking down and his impatience seep into his features. With hesitation, you moved your eyes off him and to the pretty, bright pink painting his angry tip while it leaked translucent liquid that mingled with your spit, leaning forward to lick a stripe over the throbbing vein decorating his shaft.

You heard deft fingers pressing over the keycaps followed by the loud clang of his headset hitting the wooden desk, his thighs retracting as he rolled his chair back, and his hands squeezed around your biceps to hold you up. Forcefully pulling you to your feet with him, the snarky remark died on your tongue as he pushed back onto the bed, a sudden exhale blowing out of your lungs when you landed under him.

“Had your fun?” the deep baritone sent a shiver down your spine. Looking up at him, you took in the sweat pilling on his forehead, and you unsuccessfully attempted to wiggle out of the grasp he had around your wrists.

You bent your knee enough to dig into his hanging cock, the corners of your mouth twisting upwards when he jerked back. “Seems like you did too.”

You saw his eyebrow twitch again before a firm hand grabbed at your jaw, his other hand working your bottoms down your legs, two fingers pushing between your walls before you could even think of a retort. But you simply giggled, amused by how worked up you’d managed to get Yunho. You pecked the palm covering your lips, breathing out airy moans as he repeatedly pressed his fingers into your g-spot. He scissored his fingers, watching hot arousal dripping out of your cunt to seep into his duvet, cursing under his breath while using it to lube himself up.

“Can’t believe you,” he mumbled after releasing your jaw, leaning down to press himself flush with your chest, hands on your hips while he sunk into you, a melody of grunts and moans bouncing off the walls as he ground into your pussy, making sure you took every last inch of him. “Fuuuck, so fucking tight for me, aren’t you? Even when you’re being a brat,” he pressed his lips to the smile stretching yours.

Your smile wavered, playfulness fading away as you held his face to gaze into his hooded eyes, “are you still mad?”

Your whisper halted his insistent grinding, sparing you from the delicious glide of his cockhead over your walls to press a kiss to your forehead, “I could never be mad at you, sweetheart. I’m sorry it seemed that way,” the hands holding your hips wrapped around you, one cradling the back of your head and the other on your lower spine, holding you so close you could hear his racing heartbeat.

You knew this didn’t solve the problem, and that you’d have to sit down and talk about it again soon, but Yunho’s hold—so warm and tender—set a veil of tranquillity over your moving bodies and erased any significance tied to your previous argument.

But Yunho was still desperate, brimming lust mingling with his desire to make love to you, his hold gentle and yet his hips were merciless. He slammed his cock into your cunt, breathy ah's blowing over the side of you neck while he drew out orgasm after orgasm from you, his length pulsating within your heat as pleasure seared through your bodies. Your thighs trembled around him, and your hips ached when he flipped you over, grabbing your ass to pull you back onto his cock while his other hand pushed your head down into the mattress, taking what he needed from you and revelling in the sweet moans he got in return.

Overstimulation mingled with pleasure, and you tuned out your surroundings save for the choked grunts Yunho blew against the shell of your ear, the flesh of your ass growing raw with his repetitive thrusts, the back of his thighs slapping roughly against your skin.

“gonna come,” he panted, “gonna fill you up all the way, yeah baby?”

You rambled incoherently into the sheets, the hand holding your head down tangling into your hair until dull pain shot through your scalp. Moaning a succession of “yes” and “please,” Yunho held you in place while he emptied thick ropes of his cum between your fluttering walls, doing just as he said he would: filling you up all the way, until the heat spread into your womb.

Yunho brushed the hair off your face to watch your pupils disappear, rutting his softening cock into you to push you further over the edge, aiding you down from your high with skilled rolls of his hips and kisses peppered over your skin, groaning at the tight squeeze of your cunt around him. When overstimulation jerked your body away from his grasp, you reached back with heavy limbs to push at his hips, sighing once his thick length slid out of you, and you missed the string of cum connecting his cockhead to your leaking hole. But Yunho eyed it until it broke, sliding his hands up your spine and flattening his body over yours, his weight held up by the elbows digging into the mattress by your head.

Pressing kisses to every patch of skin he could reach, yunho brushed away your tears with the plush of his lips, kissing over your shut eyelids while breathing in your uneven exhales. His pretty angel, he couldn’t believe how beautiful you were, especially after you’d milked him dry, always so beautiful when you were stuffed full of his cum. Covered in sweat, shirt sticking to your trembling figure, your cunt oozing the translucent liquid while it clenched uselessly around the chill air.

You craned your neck to look at the man hovering over you, clothed chest brushing over your back with every breath he drew in. He looked just as ruined—a pretty flush painting his cheeks, eyes soft and brimming with adoration as they mooned over your expression. You wondered what face you were making, and why it seemed make him so starstruck.

“We good?” You breathed out into the air between you, a hopeful glimmer in your eyes.

Yunho focused on the spit drying over your lips, the line of drool going down to your chin reflecting the light from his monitor. His cock twitched in interest where it lay snug between his lower belly and your ass, and he rolled his hips experimentally, your sweet arousal around the hardening length gliding smoothly over your skin.

He hummed, meeting your hopefulness with an innocent smile, though the hint of slyness hidden within the gesture did not go unnoticed. Rolling his hips once more, he enveloped your body completely, resting some of his body weight over you while he whispered in your ear, a dribble of his cum seeping out of you as you squeezed around nothing.

“I think I might need a little more convincing.”

[vivalabunbun]

Midnight Piano Interlude in D Minor, Op. 1

Summary: Growing pains don’t go away the moment you reach adulthood, instead it goes by a different name: Regret. 

Word Count: 17.9k ( I have a problem, no I cannot fix it)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Pianist!Reader, Aspiring musician!Reader, Slow burn, Slow fic (look at the word count), Heavy Angst, Smut(r18+), NSFW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Childhood friends to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, a lot of memories from the past, Fluff, Second chance romance, TW: Character death (Alhaitham’s grandma), TW: Themes about regret and low self-confidence, Heavy adult themes, gifted kid burn-out, toxic family, unhappy childhood, unhealthy relationship dynamics, unhealthy coping mechanisms, Service top! Alhaitham, mutual pining? kinda, unrequited love? sorta, slightly obsessive!Alhaitham, Soft!Alhaitham, Alhaitham is not faultless his current views have been formed through trial and painful error. 

Authors Note: This is very experimental. I almost didn’t want to post it, but I just believe even the most stoic person isn’t without their past mistakes and regrets. Alhaitham doesn’t understand most forms of art... but he does value music. Enjoy. 

There was something off about this stanza, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. A cup of now room-temperature coffee was on your dining table, next to the sheets of music you were currently editing. Tapping the end of the pencil on your lip as you shut your eyelids. You played the notes on the paper in your head. 

It was an early Saturday afternoon, so you still had plenty of time before you had to go to your gig. It was a ritual on Saturdays that you would edit and write your compositions. A peaceful way to transition out of your lowly officer worker identity, and into the pianist you were. The thought of spreadsheets would be slowly replaced by lines of musical notes. 

At this moment there were no emails to be answered. No shallow dry small talk from nosy cubical neighbors. No long meetings in uncomfortable chairs about irrelevant projects.

Just the low hum of your refrigerator accompanying your experimental melodies. It was your time to embrace your aspirations that were contained to only two days every week, but it was worth all forty-eight hours.  

The fingers on your free hand tapped against the chipped lacquer table, envisioning the keys of your keyboard currently stationed in the crowded living room. Your fingers stilled as your eyes fluttered open. You found the error, crossing out the D major scale and changing it to D minor instead. Yes, D minor fits the somber tone of this piece much better. 

Excitement bubbled up inside you, that small tweak had finally solved that bothersome feeling that had been vexing you the whole week. Oh, you felt it, you were in the zone now, inspiration and motivation were just flowing undisrupted through you. Quickly gathering up the sheet music, you sauntered to your keyboard, sitting down on the cheap pull-out bench. 

There was no reason to worry about a noise complaint when it was in the middle of the day, but to follow social etiquette you made sure to lower the volume on the keyboard to just barely above mute. It was time to put everything together, you put your hands into position eager to press down on the smooth keys to finally hear the composition you had worked so hard on-

“Be careful with that! My unfinished models are in that box! Don’t just slam it down!” A voice boomed from the hall outside your door. 

The sudden disturbance cut off the flow within you, fingers hovering over the keys. Of course, asking for peace and quiet in this dust heap apartment complex was a luxury the residents couldn’t afford. You inhaled deeply as you straighten your back.

It’s fine, it sounds as if a new neighbor is just moving in. You were used to this, just continue forward. 

“Oi! Could you not just dump everything into the entranceway? How am I supposed to get through?!” You could hear the shuffling of boxes. 

“Most people would be grateful for the help. Especially, when the help-seeker is someone who has yet to pay five months' worth of rent.” A box was dropped onto the floor.

“I just told you to be careful! It’s fragile! And I was busy saving up to move, I’m sure me moving out is well worth the rent money.” 

“Brilliant rebuttal. Is this the same explanation you give the bank when they call inquiring about your debt, Kaveh?” 

“And this is why I cannot stand people like you!-”

Your fingers were pressing down with force on the keys, yet you couldn’t hear any melody over the theatrical bickering taking place in the hall. The inside of your cheek is currently being abused by the grating of your teeth. It appears that social etiquette is dead, killed by narrow-minded individual interests. 

The two voices continued to bounce off the wall, more accurately it was mostly one thunderous voice followed by a deep tone dripping with sarcasm. Your ears weren’t even processing the words being thrown around, their focus all on the impending tinnitus developing. 

You needed to bring a stop to this now, lest it develops into a regular performance. Your thighs pushed back the flimsy seat, lips deep in a frown. The flow was ruined. 

Unlocking the deadbolt that detained the door, you looked straight ahead as the rusting hinges sang their chaos, ready to bring a stop to this public disturbance. 

“Can you please keep your voices d-” Your sentence died at the tip of your tongue.

The sight in front of you stopped you dead between your doorway. The blond-haired man’s head snapped towards you, eyes slightly apologetic. However, his face wasn’t what you had set your sights on, no, it was the familiar face of the ashen-haired man. A face you haven’t seen for seven years, Alhaitham.

Those same disinterested teal eyes shifted their focus onto you, and it paralyzed every muscle.

The silence was deafening now, not a single inch was budged by anyone. Like a frozen snapshot in time. His gaze was heavy, it was suffocating so your eyes switched over to meet with rudy irises instead.

The blond man’s attention flickered back and forth between the two of you, taking note of how his companion’s eyes never left your frame. His lips pressed into an awkward line as his head slowly turned towards the boxes behind him, finally reading the room. 

“I’m going to start tidying up.” The blond didn’t perceive the desperation sent his way by you as his figure disappeared behind a closed door.    

Now it was just you and Alhaitham. Finally reunited after seven long years apart in a decrepit hallway. The gurgling of the aging pipes and shuffling of feet from floors above  accompanied the scene. Your body was still frozen in the midst of emerging from your apartment, and his tall figure was still stationed right across the narrow hall. 

What were the last words you said to him that day many years ago again?

“I hate you, Alhaitham. I hate you for ruining my life.” 

A hand hidden behind your back clenched into a fist as you recalled that embarrassing memory. Sharp words directed toward a younger version of the man in front of you. Words birthed from irrationality and wounded pride.

Now your brain had once again latched on to this core memory, you were certainly going to be kicking your blankets tonight. What a mortifying souvenir of the past. 

The past anger and frustrations were all but lingering smoke in your hair, your heart couldn’t recall the heat of how they burned the bridge down. They say time heals, and it's true.

The years apart had gradually soothed over the tender wounds on your ego. With the pain subsided your brain was clear enough to review the moments that lead to that outburst, and it made you die internally. 

Should you just apologize right now? To alleviate the creeping guilt traveling up your shoulder, and so your poor blanket won’t be kicked as hard tonight. Can a small apology really travel across the full length of the seven-year-wide rift that had formed? Your lips stayed firmly shut, there was your answer. 

Alhaitham took a step towards you, instinctively your body shuffled three more steps away, widening the berth between your bodies. His movement paused, teal eyes peering down at you as you looked at the space behind his head. No words were said. 

This awkward scene was very reminiscent of your introduction to the ashen-haired man many years ago. 

–

Your parents, esteemed researchers working for a renowned corporation, had moved into a new neighborhood. The house was much larger than your old home, large enough to house a grand piano in the living room. 

“It’s about time you start learning the piano.” Were the orders your parents had given you, sitting your six-year-old self at the intimidating instrument. 

On the same day you were introduced to your new duty, you were also introduced to the neighbor’s kid. The only other kid on the block filled with prominent academic figures from the nation’s top university. A grey-haired boy was standing by the side of the older lady, while you clung to your father’s slacks. The boy’s bored teal-eyed stare made you advert your eyes to your pretty shoes. 

“This is Alhaitham, he is the same age as you. Say hello.” The stern hands of your father broke your grasp on his slacks and pushed you towards the boy named ‘Alhaitham’. 

“Alhaitham, won’t you greet our new neighbor?” The older woman’s wrinkled but kind eyes motioned to your nervous frame. 

“Hello.” Greeted a flat voice. 

Your tiny hand found its way back to your father’s slacks, grip wrinkling it even more. You were physically unable to utter a single noise. After what felt like an eternity of staring at your shiny sneakers, your father’s hand tug you away. The adults were now having a small conversation, mostly your parents apologizing for your shyness and the older professor laughing the matter off. 

“There is no need to apologize, children are fickle sometimes. But I hope that she and Alhaitham will get along. You are always welcome to visit, little one.” Her eyes peered at your restless form. You liked her eyes, they were warm.

That night you sat through a long lecture from your parents about your rudeness toward the grandma. All you could do was bow your head, back perfectly straight on the plush new sofa. You were sent to bed with no dinner that night, told to think about how your actions would reflect upon your parents. 

–

The invasive memory triggered by this sudden reunion left a bitter taste on your tongue. The taste that you’ve purposefully been fleeing from all these years. Now with his presence so burdensome, it was dragging your thoughts down deeper. You needed to put a stop to this before your head disappears under the water. 

So just like all those years ago, you disappeared from teal eyes. Not uttering a single greeting as the resounding click of your door was heard. 

Exiting the automated glass doors, you could finally relax your shoulders. The sun was hanging in the sky this Wednesday evening, you were grateful that you were actually able to clock off work on time.

Your eyes scanned the unfamiliar buildings that decorated the landscape, all large and reaching towards the sky, light bouncing off polished windows. You were free to explore. 

Your job required you to attend a meeting about some closing of a deal between the two companies. Thus, the reason why you were currently in the midst of the upscale business district of Sumeru City. Opposing the rundown sector you called home, the sidewalks here were leveled and free of fissures. Many of the trendy shops that lined the streets beckoned you closer to their displays. 

With one glance over the price tags attached to the chic items your body instantly turned away. Of course, the prices in the yuppie part of the city would be out of your budget. 

Walking further down the road, you let yourself enjoy the warm breeze of Sumeru against your stuffy blouse and pencil skirt. Your skin has finally thawed out after being in that overly air-conditioned conference room. Turning onto a quieter side street you walked past the tantalizing smells wafting from the small cafes. 

The gig from last Saturday compensated you quite handsomely. Perhaps you could splurge a little, a reward for yourself securing a returning performance later this month. 

One particular cafe caught your interest, it was a combination of a bookstore and a coffee shop. The blackboard sign placed outside listed the daily specialties, and for once the prices of the drinks weren’t outrageous.

A small bell chimed above your head, welcoming you inside. After placing your order, you decided to peruse through the selection of novels the shop had on display. 

Most of the titles were of the new best sellers or latest academic papers. Your fingers brushed across the smooth covers, observing the different arts and fonts. It seems that you’ve wonder quite a bit down the rows, somehow ending up in a section filled with the simple cover illustrations of children’s books. You were far too old to enjoy such books now. 

Just as you turned on your heel to head back up the aisle, a brilliant verdant cover catches your eye. ‘Oh, so it’s still in print’, you thought. The Giving Tree, the title of the first book you ever learned to read. 

–

“Alhaitham is the same age as you, yet he’s reading scientific journals. You should learn from him.” Your mother’s eyes examined your round eyes looking back up at hers. 

Your small frame deflated even smaller, the bright aura that had been radiating off of you dissipated like morning dew under the harsh sun.

Just earlier you had your first piano lesson, the piano teacher was so excited to tell your parents how much potential you had, and how filled with talent you were. Their words made you perk up on the bench, the instrument no longer felt as frightening. 

The praise had left you in a good mood, so much so that you agreed to accompany your mother to the neighbor’s house. A book clutched in the hand that wasn’t held in your mother’s clammy grasp. You weren’t sure if you were in a good mood anymore.

The kind grandma led you to a small library where her grandson was, Alhaitham was curled up on the rug with a thick journal in his small hands. The thin children’s book in your hand paled in comparison. 

“Now, now. Alhaitham is just very passionate about reading. Your daughter is at the normal age where children begin reading, perhaps she’ll also gain a fondness if they read together. I think they’ll have fun together.” The kind woman gestured for you into the room. 

Your mother releases your hand, a cold look ushered you toward the empty spot next to the boy. Settling down on the other side of the rug, you glanced up quickly. She seemed satisfied. 

The grandma soon led your mother to another part of the house, continuing their conversation. You turned toward the boy next to you, he was too focused on the text in front of him to bother greeting you. 

Spirits a bit dejected, you opened the cover to your own thin book. It was your father that placed the book in your hands, telling you to start reading. As your eyes glossed over the figures that took up only a fraction of the page, you came across the obvious hurdle.

You don’t know how to read. No one had ever sat you on their lap and gone through this book with you, or any book really. 

The illustrations and script on the page taunted you, calling you to decypher their meanings and symbols. The pages were quickly flipped through until you hit the back cover, then flipped through once more until you were back to the front.

A foolish attempt for a miracle, that if you flipped through the book fast enough, somehow those scribbles on the pages will make sense. 

“Are you even reading?” Spoke a slightly irritated voice.

Oh, your loud turning must have distracted the boy from his reading. The flipping stopped, as you glanced at him seeing the disinterested eyes staring back, you looked away. The embarrassment this time compelled your mouth to speak. 

“N-no… I don’t know how…” Cheeks burned from shame, you could already feel that familiar sting in your eyes. Oh no, if you cried then mom might frown again. 

A sigh resounded beside you, Alhaitham shifted his body out of his comfortable position against his pillow. Oh no, is he getting up to tell mom about the dark secret you just spilled to him? You didn’t get him to promise he won’t tell, will he get you in trouble? 

“Give it here.” An expecting hand reached out, palms open. 

You blinked at the hand slowly, did he want the book in exchange for not telling? Obediently, you placed the small book into his hold. His teal eyes glance over the title quickly, before he lays the book open in the space between your two bodies. Your head tilted in confusion at his actions. But as soon as his tranquil voice read the word out loud, that confusion stopped. 

“Mmm… I don’t like the boy.” You crossed your arms in front of your small body, round cheeks pushed out in a pout.

Alhaitham just finished reading the story to you, he ran his small finger along with each word he spoke so you could follow along as well. His eyes connected with yours inquisitively, waiting for you to continue. 

“The nice tree gave him so much, and he never said ‘thank you’. And he left the tree alone for so long, the tree must have been so sad. He’s mean, a big meanie and… and…”

“Ungrateful.” Alhaitham finished your sentence. 

“Un-un..grateful?” You titled your head again, the unfamiliar word felt weird on your tongue. 

“Ungrateful. U-n-g-r-a-t-e-f-u-l. It means having no feelings of thanks, you can also say he’s selfish.” The boy answered your question before you could even ask it. 

You pressed a finger against your lips, turning the newly learned vocabulary in your head. Yeah, those words fit the boy in the story very well. Ungrateful and selfish. You looked back at the boy sitting next to you, a smile stretched your chubby cheeks. The grandma was right, reading with him was fun. 

“You’re really smart.” You beamed at him. 

“That means nothing to me.” He huffed, turning his face away. 

You could spy with your little eyes the red tint on the tips of his ears that peeked out from his ash-colored hair. 

“Hehe, and you’re funny too.” For the first time in a while, you giggled.

–

What a bittersweet memory, like the fragrance of the different brews traveling throughout the small shop. Yet, the nostalgia brought a small curl to your lips. You turned away from the book, only to flinch at what your eyes saw next. 

The boy from your memories is now a man standing adjacently. You must’ve been too lost in thought to notice his towering stature. 

After that tense reunion in the hallway, thankfully Alhaitham didn’t decide to knock on your door. Not that you would’ve answered anyways. He probably had already predicted your actions, and thus saved himself the time. 

He was dressed in a suit and but the tie was loose around his neck, he must’ve just gotten off of work. The path back to the coffee bar was just slightly blocked by his wide frame, you had to get past him. 

Teal-orange eyes converged with your stare, ah it’s too late to try and sneak past now. Alhaitham acknowledges your presence with a slight nod of his head, expression blank and unreadable. Once again you didn’t say a single greeting.

As if a merciful archon had been watching this pathetic interaction, an opportunity for escape was granted in the form of the barista calling out your name. 

“Excuse me.” Was all you could muster, hastily striding past him, body pressed against the selves so as to not brush against him. 

Before you the bell at the front chimed again to signal your departure, you made sure to leave some extra mora, more than the necessary amount. Done in silent gratitude towards the unsung hero of a barista. 

It was now the last Saturday of the month, meaning it was time for your return performance. In your bathroom mirror, you smoothed out any stray hairs, straightening out your black performance garb.

A sacred ritual to slow the beating of your jumping heart. It’s a bit silly to admit, but no matter how many times you’ve performed, your nerves always went haywire. A terrible habit that made its way to adulthood. 

The tavern you were performing at was quite a popular joint among the locals of Sumeru City. The nice wooden and homey interior gave many city dwellers their taste of nature in a progressing world. A grand piano was tucked away in a clear corner of the establishment, a ring of tables enclosed the area into a stage of sorts. 

Pushing through the intricately carved doors, you entered Lambad’s Tavern eyes surveying the audience for this Saturday night. There were some tables still empty, awaiting the future stream of guests. Chatter quietly reverberated through the serene scene for now.

The atmosphere can get a bit rowdy as more and more alcohol ran through the systems of patrons. In a way, it was perfect for you, a perfect stepping stone in your slow climb. 

Checking in with the manager at the front, you got the thumbs up to start setting up for your show. An agreement had been reached earlier this month that you would be playing the piano for three hours, three hours of having the privilege to play on a grand piano again. Not on the electronic imitation of your keyboard. Eager hands glided their soft touch along the smooth keys. 

Yes, nothing can truly capture the beauty of the grand piano’s voice, not even the CDs you set up on a table nearby. Recordings with a mixed tracklist of classical pieces and original compositions, just like your setlist for tonight. 

Lifting up the fallboard, you set the sheets against the music stand. Not that you needed them. Every note, every rest, and every change in tempo memorized in your fingers. Taking a deep breath, your eyes did one final scan around the room. Most tables were too emersed in their own conversations to take note of you. 

Rubbing your fingers together to grind out the tremble of your nerves before you shut your eyes. In the darkness quiet darkness of your mind, your fingers moved into their positions over the keys. Erik Satie’s Je te veux resonated with the muddled conversations of the audience, adding to the serene air. 

You’ve always closed your eyes when performing, a trait that has embedded itself from the start of your music career. The darkness of your mind offered a reprieve from the critical eyes of judges and parents during recitals and competitions.

You first stepped into this safe haven around the time of your first recital at the age of eight. 

–

It’s been a few months since you first began your piano lessons, and your teacher was eager to announce your first recital. They had a sparkle in their eyes, keen to show off their most talented disciple. 

They had discovered an unpolished diamond among the mediocre ruff, a young naturally blessed child. Your lips were kept sealed about the long hours your parents forced you to sit in front of the piano after each weekly lesson. 

Before you only ever played under the watchful gaze of either your parents or teacher, not an audience of strangers. To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified. 

“I can’t do it.” You retracted your hands from the piano once again, as if the keys were scorching you. 

“You said you wanted to play the piano for me.” The young boy beside you huffed out, annoyed at your actions. You had repeated these steps five times now. 

“I know! But I’m… scared…” Your posture deflated. 

“If you can’t play in front of one person, how can you play for a crowd?” Alhaitham’s disinterested eyes crept back to the book he had placed beside him, you had dragged him away from his reading for this. 

“I don’t know…” A frown pulled at your face, eyes feeling the incoming burn. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. 

There was a tense moment of nothingness between the two of you. The boy quietly observed the paper propped up against the music stand. 

“Do you know how to play this piece?” His flat voice broke the suspense. 

“Yes I do! I’ve been practicing this every day, I can even do it with my eyes closed.” You huffed in disbelief at his accusation. 

“Then do that. Just play with your eyes closed.” He retorted as if it was the most obvious statement in the world. 

Which in truth, it was the most obvious statement in the world. You’ve been practicing Vom fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen since the beginning of the month every day for six hours a day. The rhythm and keys were ingrained into your fingers by the second week. 

The solution was so plain and simple, why didn’t you think of it? Your parents were right, you are always a few steps behind the brilliant boy. 

An embarrassed flush covered your round cheeks. Suddenly his stare was heavy, heavier than the ones from your parents and teacher. The muscles in your finger felt tense. Your young mind could tell that if this continued then the tune embedded in your hands wouldn’t come out at all. 

“Can you not look?” A quiet plead. 

“I thought you wanted me to watch.” A grey brow was raised. 

“I know… But…” Around him, you couldn’t seem to finish your sentences. 

“Fine.” Deciding that prying further would be a wasted effort, Alhaitham turned his short body around on the bench so that his back faced the piano instead. Cracking open his thick book back to the page he had left off on. 

“I don’t need to look at you to hear you play anyways.” The young boy’s eyes returned back to their place among the text. 

Sitting back up straight again, shoulder back and hands into position. You took a deep breath and entered the darkness behind your eyelids. This time your fingers guided you through the moment, and the piano sang out its melodies. 

–

Coincidentally, Vom fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen just so happened to be ending right now as the memory finished its course. You had transitioned into the piece some time ago, finishing five out of the many on your three-hour setlist. It was right about time for a small break. 

As your eyelids lifted a few soft claps reached your ears, from the growing chatter it seems that more customers had funneled into the tavern. 

The manager of the tavern was a very generous man, so much so that he offers you a complimentary drink you could claim during each of your breaks. You would be a fool to turn down such an offer, but you reminded yourself that you need to maintain a certain level of sobriety. For the sake of your performance. 

The sweet wine felt divine running down your parched throat. The alcohol did wonders in mellowing out your racing thoughts as you returned back to your place at the piano. Just like before, you did a small survey of your surroundings. Big mistake, for your mind kicked into overdrive when locking gazes with teal eyes.  

‘Speak of the devil, and he doth appear’. 

A superstition you should really be more mindful of. Shifting your body towards the piano, you ended the impromptu staring contest. Ah, what song were you supposed to play now? Thoughts scrambled as you can still feel the heaviness of Alhaitham’s gaze on your back. ‘Just play’ you internally scolded.

Letting your fingers take over the piano, retreating back into the comforting blackness. 

“Who was that?” Kaveh creaked open the door to his new apartment, inquiring his now former roommate about the scene that unraveled moments before. 

Alhaitham observed the heavy metal frame that closed you off from him once more. This was certainly an unexpected surprise. It’s been seven years since he last hear your voice. Seven years since you marched forth on a path carved by your own grit and resoluteness. 

Many things have changed these seven years.

Who are you?

Eyes still following the cracks of the paint running up your door, the ashen-haired man’s mind recounted a scene from long ago. 

–

It’s been a few months since you first moved into this neighborhood, taking Alhaitham’s title of ‘only kid on the block’ away. During your first introduction, you wouldn’t even greet him constantly tugging on your father’s pant leg and staring at your feet. 

Now you wouldn’t stop greeting him. After lunch, almost like clockwork, there would be a knock at his front door. Disrupting his precious reading time. You’d be there on the other side with a new book for him to read to you, or you’d bounce on the heels of your feet inviting him to hear your piano. 

Today, it was the latter. Alhaitham had his back facing the piano, the position that made you the most comfortable. A book was open in his lap, but his mind was busy pondering a mystery to pay attention to it or to the tune you were playing. Grandma said it wasn’t good to hold in questions, lest they consume the curious mind. Best to get answers from the source of the mystery. 

“Why do you seek me out?” His flat voice interfered with the sharp notes.

“Huh?” You turned to him perplexed, fingers now hovering over the keys.

“Are we friends?” He asked directly, it’s good to be straightforward. 

“Of course we’re friends! Even if you’re a bookworm, you’re still a precious friend of mine.” Chest puffed up at your bold declaration. 

“If I am a bookworm, it’s only appropriate to call you an earworm.”

“E-earworm? There are worms that live in the ear??” 

“No, it’s just a figure of speech. Earworm refers to a tone or melody that repeats constantly in the mind.” 

“Ooh. Earworm…” You pondered the term for a bit before another splitting smile spread across your face. 

“Yes! You’re a bookworm and I’m an earworm.” A finger was directed at him then back at yourself, giggling. 

Strangely, the young boy felt a tickle at the back of his throat, as if your laughter was contagious like a cold. He decided to hold it back in favor of observing your expression for a bit longer. 

“Oh!” You jumped up from the bench, reaching into the shiny pencil case you kept close to the piano. 

Pulling out a bold black marker you uncapped the tool before climbing onto the bench, the extra height allowing you to maneuver the top half of your body into the body of the piano. 

Now it was his turn to be bewildered, quickly snapping his eyes towards the entrance of the living room, watching out for signs of your parents. Soon you reemerged from the instrument, capping the marker with a proud look in your eyes. 

“There, now there’s solid proof of our friendship.”  

Alhaitham peers into the piano, observing the words clumsily written along the wooden shell:

Property of Bookworm and Earworm

“Why am I before you? It’s your piano isn’t it?” 

“Well ‘B’ comes before ‘E’.” You puffed out your cheek at his lackluster response to your heartfelt gesture. 

For the first time ever in front of you, Alhaitham let an obvious smile appear on his face. 

–

What a bittersweet term. Friends. Yes, the two of you were once friends long ago. Close friends who morphed into strangers. The catalyst for this change? With each new stage of life, branching paths will appear, the parting of ways is just a natural phenomenon. 

He is Alhaitham and you are you. Separate individuals with separate lives on separate paths. 

“Just someone I used to know.” Came his candid answer. 

“Right.” Kaveh rolled his eyes, clearly displeased at how the ashen-haired man won’t give his question an actual response. 

Alhaitham removed his eyes from your door, picking the cardboard box back off the tiled hallway. Kaveh didn’t need to know the specifics, the precious details shall forever make their home in a safe corner of his mind. 

Alhaitham exited the ornate doors of the office building. Currently, it was the closing quarter, meaning the office has been more bothersome than usual. Even with his perfected front of acting busy, more and more troublesome characters have been strolling into his office. It’s irrelevant now, for the secretary is now off the clock. 

The sun was still in the sky, perfect weather to grab a bit to eat from a local coffee shop. It’s been a week since he last picked up a new book as well, there was one place that came to mind that would allow the man to kill two birds with one stone. Long legs walked with swift strides towards his destination. 

Even will his earphones in, Alhaitham could still hear the hustle and bustle of the crowded streets. In Sumeru City this was expected, construction, traffic, and pedestrians, everything thing muddled together in noisy inference with his thoughts. He turns up the volume. 

Opening the door to the cafe, the bell sounded his arrival. The usual barista was there at the counter. With a quick glance up the barista instinctively placed his order, a testament to just how often the ashen-haired man frequents this place. Good, this saves him the trouble. 

Without pausing his music, Alhaitham began pursuing the nonfiction section of the small shop. There were a few new scientific journals that have been published, maybe he’ll give them a read. 

Although his ears were currently occupied, that doesn’t mean his other senses were dulled. He could feel the weight of someone’s gaze upon his back. Usually, the man would simply brush such occurrences off. But there was this small nag coming from a corner of his mind. This could be a result of a brain being bored by a day’s worth of paperwork. He’ll indulge his curiosity. 

Returning the weight of the gaze back to the mysterious source he felt his jaw clench just a bit. There you were again, staring at him with your lips pressed together tensely. Your wide eyes were very reminiscent of a spooked songbird. Everything about your body language read startled and for flight. 

This time, Alhaitham doesn’t encroach, he simply nodded his head in a small greeting. It seems even this small action sparked you to flee. You mouthed something before quickly strolling past him. 

Shamelessly, his teal eyes followed your path as you paid for your coffee and disappeared out of sight from the shop windows. Yes, his statement that these seven years have brought about much change was correct. It wasn’t like this before.

–

“Alhaitham, why are you reading here?” His grandma inquired about the reason behind her grandson situating himself at the window nook instead of inside the library. 

“I just wanted to enjoy the sunlight.” Came his crafted response. 

From this small nook, the window gave a clear view of the front steps and the path that led to the house just across the street. The older woman took note of this, kind eyes giving the young boy a knowing look and smile. You had begun attending the local school.

Meanwhile, Alhaitham adamantly wanted to stay home and self-study instead. Stating that all the material the school covered he already knew. The old lady didn’t raise any objections to her grandson’s decision. 

“If you go over to her house remember to be polite, and inform me before you do.” A wrinkled hand tussled through his soft ashen locks. 

“There’s no need. I’m just sitting here to read.” He leaned into his grandma’s touch. 

“Of course, of course. Then I shall make use of this afternoon to review some material. Remember what I said.” 

“Yes, grandma.” Came his reply. 

With that, Alhaitham was left to his own thoughts by the window. He didn’t really know why he felt the pull to sit by the window. Was it to get a glimpse of you? The neighbor’s daughter? 

You and he were the only two kids on the block, so it wasn’t surprising you would often seek out his company. A friendship formed by virtue of close proximity. However, now you were attending classes filled with other kids your age. His company would sooner or later fade into obscurity. 

Alhaitham has always been very attuned to the situation around him, displaying a level of maturity and insight way beyond his years. Perhaps he still retains some semblance of that childish essence. Demonstrated by his current position, the book in his lap only held half of his attention, the other wondering out the clear glass. 

What is he hoping for realistically? Others can provide you much livelier company than he ever could, and yet he still-

The boy puts down the book, short legs pattering across the wooden floor swiftly carrying his body to the door. Small hands turned the cold brass before he channeled all his strength into prying the wooden mass from the frame.

Revealing your bewildered face, hand frozen in its position ready to knock on the now open door. Once your eyes met, it wasn’t long before a smile replaced your expression. 

“Hi, Haitham! Wanna hear me play today?” 

–

Yes, that was how things used to be. Even as your social circle grew, even as new families moved in, you’d still appear back in front of him. Beaming that smile he lost the privilege to see. Like a songbird that returned every day to sing in front of his window as the solitary child read.

 Alhaitham’s eyes found themselves locked once more on a door, the one you had rushed out of not so long ago. There was a weight pulling down on the corners of his mouth. He entered Sumeru’s education system during high school. Missing the crucial formative years previously where cliques and social labels were formed, he stood alone as a loner. 

But You always rushed towards him through crowded halls and rooms. Breaking away amidst your social circle from orchestra and band. Just to tap him on the shoulder and eat lunch together in the sanctuary of a private practice room that housed the school’s piano.

These repetitive memories plaguing him brought a bitter taste to his coffee. Perhaps it was the dreadful combination of sweet memory and awareness of the current state of affairs. 

Finally, the end of the month has come. Meaning things at work have sorted themselves out, at least for another three months. In lieu of attending an actual company-sponsored dinner, Alhaitham decides to get a drink at the local tavern.

Company dinners were noisy, filled with black ties and white lies. Too troublesome. However, recently his mind has been filling the silence of his house with redundant thoughts. 

A drink from time to time is a good way to destress and quell the mind, Alhaitham reasons as he enters the establishment. Lambad’s Tavern was a local joint that provides a small solace from the rambunctious city streets. A place the man likes to visit on occasion, usually when an invitation was extended. 

From the moment he entered through the doors, he could hear a piano ending its cords. It seems that there was live music tonight. Usually, it was nice to have background music accompany the chatter of the other patrons. But why a piano of all choices tonight? Alhaitham takes a deep breath before letting out a small sigh, it’s as if a ghost of the past is haunting him. 

Placing an order for a bottle of wine to be delivered to a secluded area, Alhaitham makes his way to the usual table. His body maneuvered through the sea of flushed face patrons, and the sight of the grand piano came into view.

The bench by the instrument was empty, perhaps his mind really is just conjuring up a ghost. Regardless, once the wine comes these thoughts will settle. 

“Your wine.” The alcohol was set down. 

“Thank you.” Alhaitham swirls the glass a bit before taking a sip. 

 His bored eyes began to wander once more, looking for anything to bide the time with, unsurprisingly they were beckoned towards the piano. Only this, time it was no longer empty. No, this time it was no ghost invented by a bored mind, it was you. He stiffly swallowed down the wine. 

He wasn’t subtle nor careful with how obviously he was staring, thinking too occupied by astonishment. This must have tipped you off, as once again your wide-eyed gaze connected with his heavy one. You made that tense face again. You broke away, tightly shutting your eyes before your fingers hit the keys, making the piano sing. 

‘Oh, so you still closed your eyes when you played’. Alhaitham found a strange satisfaction in this fact as if he found comfort in the one constant he still knew about you. Arms and fingers moved fluidly, a sight he used to not be able to see out of respect for you. 

–

Your parents were busy with their research, and his grandmother had her hands full with academic responsibilities. It was only Alhaitham who had the time, a resource only abundant in youth, to attend your recitals and concerts.

As the crowd and the judges bored holes into your figure up on stage, the young man kept his eyes peeled on the book in front of him. 

The young man didn’t mind attending these events, the audience was mostly silent save for the occasional applause. After so many years and lunches spent by your side at the piano, his ears have gotten used to the melodic accompaniment to his reading.

The final chords of your performance reverberated throughout the air, followed by the rolling clapping of hands.

He lifted his attention up to the stage. Although it’s ironic how the only time you wanted him to watch your performance was at the end, he’ll respect your wishes. From the brightly lit stage, you were finishing your bow, and as your head rises your eyes connected with his. A beaming smile was directed at him.

Was it you or the stage lights that stung his eyes? 

“How’d you think I did, Haitham?” Was the first thing out of your lips after rejoining him. 

The concert hall had emptied out some time ago, and Alhaitham had been waiting by the backstage door to walk home with you. You held a thick folder against the front of your formal black gown, a bounce in your ballet flat steps. Alhaitham pretended to contemplate his answer. 

“I’m not well versed in acoustics nor how to judge music, so I don’t see how my opinion would matter.”  Came his flat reply.  

“Haitham, you listened to me play for years. How have you not learned a thing?” You pouted, just like how he predicted. 

The young man gave you a simple shrug. Of course, he found your performance exceptional, he was there for the hours of practice you put in. 

“Whatever, now that it’s over. I can start looking at the piece the conductor wanted me to accompany for the school’s orchestra. Ahh, I only have three weeks to practice.” You made a face as you dug through the thick folder as the two of you continued to walk. 

He only hummed in response, shifting his focus back to his book. It was the sweet Sumeru Spring of your third year of high school, the perfect for a serene walk home.

Over the top of the pages, his teal eyes could see your lips press into a crooked line, desperately trying to suppress your snickers as you sightread the notes on the sheet. 

“Is that a piece by Debussy?” 

“Huh? How’d ya know, Haitham?” 

You were easy to read. After knowing you for over a decade now, you were like an open book to him. The journal hides his small smile from your sight. 

–

The memory reminded him to advert his eyes, focusing back on the glass of wine in front of him. He came here for a drink, he should follow through with his plan. The wine quickly vanished as Alhaitham signed for another. It took an impressive amount of willpower for his eyes to not wander back, he won’t let them. 

Your small performance had come to an end, sounded by the closing of the fallboard and how the bench dragged against the floor. He knew you were bowing to show thanks to the audience, yet he still refused to look. From your earlier actions, it was blatant that you despised his presence.

So even as your figure passed by his table, Alhaitham refused to allow you into his line of sight.

It’s been an hour since you left the establishment in a rush, and Alhaitham had run up quite the tab now, best to call it a night. Tossing some mora onto the table, the ashen-haired man stands up ready to begin the taxis ride back. 

The effects of the alcohol must have made his eyes wander back to the piano, a fruitless attempt to watch one last glimpse. And a glimpse they found, in the form of a CD you had carelessly left behind. 

You had abandoned it, thus it was now free for the taking.

It was unlike the stoic man to order rounds after rounds of wine, but he needed something to busy himself with. Just as how you were busy with the piano, he needed the alcohol to quell undesirable impulses. However, as his unsteady steps made it up the front porch, he was chastising himself for that decision. A hangover was guaranteed in the morning.

Roughly slamming the door shut behind him, Alhaitham entered the asylum of his home. The newfound stillness of the house was usually a luxury the ashen-haired man indulged in. However, at the moment it was a tribulation, for his noisy thoughts filled the silence. Its volume only exacerbated by the alcohol in his system. 

When he was younger, Alhaitham naively thought the knowledge gained from academic journals was equivalent to experience. After all, he had just read about another person’s experiences, he could pinpoint their flaws and learn from their mistakes so as to not repeat them. 

Just like the knowledge obtained from his books, he assumed that you too shall always remain in his possession, you shall always stay by his side. Of course, only a naive teenager, no, only a naive child would think this way. 

Did you know that the downfall of many great kings, heroes, and gods was their hubris? Excess self-confidence blinds their vision. Excess confidence only a naive child would have, believing he could analyze everything. 

Oh, how life works in mysterious ways, finding lessons to humble such egos. Alhaitham, against his will, reminisces about the event that taught him a valuable lesson in the noisy silence of his house. 

–

“Haitham, I can’t believe they did it.” You were curled up on the couch of his grandmother’s home, tears streaming down your face. 

“They sold my piano, Haitham. They sold it because they wanted me to get over this ‘hobby’. Hypocrites, as if they weren’t the ones who forced me to practice hours a day since I was a kid.” 

Alhaitham said nothing, silently holding the tissue box out to you. The pair of you had just returned from school just a few hours earlier, bidding goodbye before returning to your respective houses. However, just an hour ago his quiet reading was disrupted by frantic pounding on the front door. He had opened it to your tear-stained face. 

“How could they instill in me a passion for all my life, but when I want to continue with it as a career, they do their damnedest to snuff it out?” You were furiously wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. 

Oh, so that’s what happened. Alhaitham had already seen this coming, knowing how your parents were, it was predictable. They had valid reasons for not wanting their daughter to pursue such a career path.

You still had stage fright, constantly telling him to not look at you when you played. How would you make a living like this? He analyzed the statistics and figures before he comes to his own conclusion. 

There was no reason that you couldn’t balance a stable career with your passion for piano. In Sumeru, they had one of the most progressive work cultures of all of Teyvat. There were generous amounts of paid time off, sick days, and reasonable hours. You had more than enough time for music.

He decides to share his conclusion with you. 

“Music should stay a hobby. Even graduates from the most prestigious music universities aren’t guaranteed a career. To be frank, it’s better if you pursue a degree that leads to a steadfast position. Of course, be firm in your boundaries so that you can have the time for piano.” 

The room fell silent, your wide eyes stared into his calm teal ones. A heavy hush hung in the air as the grandfather clock continued to tick away, until it rang, signaling the change in the air. After the last resonance of its chime faded, you let out a laugh, but there was no joy in your voice. 

“Of course… Why did I think you’d be different? This is why they love you.” Your tone was dry as your shoulders shook, eyes now trained on the floor. 

“Look at Alhaitham, what a level-headed guy he is, you should learn from him. Look at his grades, why can’t you be top of the class? He’s so talented and good at everything, what can you do? Why can’t you be more like Alhaitham?” You spat out his name as if it was poisonous. 

“Comparison is the thief of joy, you shouldn’t-” Alhaitham needed to de-escalate this crescendo.

“If only you were born their son… Then I wouldn’t have suffered.” More tears fell from your eyes as you stumbled off the couch. 

“I hate you, Alhaitham. I hate you for ruining my life.” 

Alhaitham once believed that words, which have no physical form, couldn’t hurt him. The stab in his chest from an unseen force dismissed that notion.

Your burning eyes reconnected with his gaze. He knew that look, he’s seen it many times. Jealousy, anger, and hatred. They were familiar emotions that others cast his way, yet he found himself taken aback. You’ve never looked at him like this before… Have you? 

Before he could utter another word, you stormed off. All the young man could do was watch the back of your figure as it disappeared from sight. 

–

There was a firm frown now on Alhaitham’s lips and a furrow between his brows. He wanted this horrible play to end, for his brain to stop showing him events that have already passed. It’s always one’s own mind that can show the most cruelty to itself. 

–

It’s been a month since you’ve last spoken to him. Taking long about ways to school so as to avoid crossing paths with him, your lunches were spent locked in private practice rooms.

Young Alhaitham had a whole month to analyze and reanalyze at which moment everything fell apart. After much deliberation, he concluded that he made a miscalculation. He overstepped his boundaries. 

In the end, it was your life, you should be the one to decide how you will live it. His unsolicited suggestion was wholly unnecessary. He knew an apology was needed.

However, he could read from your actions that you weren’t ready to talk to him just yet. It wouldn’t be wise to approach you, lest you look at him again with those eyes. That’s fine, he can wait until you came to him. Alhaitham bided his time with more books. Was reading without music always this lonely? 

It was the day of your graduation. From within the sea of celebratory gowns and cheering students, teal eyes honed in on your figure. You were intentionally avoiding his gaze, instead going to congratulate and talk to fellow musicians and classmates. His hand balled up into a fist before he unclenched it. It’s fine, you need more time, and he’ll respect that.

It’s the least he could do. Either way, the two of you had the whole Summer to make up before university started. 

Another miscalculation on his part. 

Alhaitham recalls the panicked ringing of his doorbell, but instead of you, the door opened to reveal your parents. You were gone. Your phone was left behind, important documents missing from filing cabinets, and a bag full of belongings gone. You’ve vanished, the only explanation they got was a note: 

“Don’t Bother Me”. 

You’ve already become a legal adult, how could the Matra have any justification to drag you back? 

That whole hellish Sumeru Summer Alhaitham read at the nook located by the front door. For that whole Summer, the young man answered any number that flashed on his screen. He knew that you had limited money, after your pitiful savings dried up you were bound to return. If not to your house, then at least to this haven.

Your voice was never on the other side. 

Laughably, it took the prodigy Alhaitham an entire Summer to finally come to terms with the facts of the matter. The songbird had left its tarnished cage, and it will never return. He started university without you by his side.

–

Grey lashes fluttered open as the play finally ends. Memories that once looped like a broken record in his mind. With time this memory became a softer hum to his thoughts. An earworm that burrowed deep within so as to remind him of his past shortcomings. 

Yes, his past mistakes made him aware of his limited human vision. That he did in fact not know everything. The series of errors that strayed you away from him. Humans weren’t books, they’re not as easy to decipher as scripts on a page. The growing pains of maturing. A lesson he has learned well.  

Once was an accident, twice is a coincidence, and the third time… a chance. Alhaitham doesn’t believe in gods or fate, but he does believe in opportunity.

Teal eyes made their way to the CD left on top of a polished ivory top. This time, he shall turn around and chase after the ghost, to return to her what was rightfully hers. 

If these occurrences were bound to happen more often, then it’s best for you to catch up with the seven-year backlog of information. Of course, instead of consulting the primary source for the much-needed answers, you turned to a secondary source instead. You are nothing, if not a coward.

Hence why on this warm Thursday night you were out at the local bar, wallet getting emptied by the blond slumped next to you. 

“Ugh, that man was a tyrant. Leaving books everywhere, letting dust just pile up, and every other sentence had to be a snide remark.” Kaveh finishes another glass, another cry from your wallet. 

You were still nursing your second glass while Kaveh’s got a scarlet glow already. A part of you regrets inviting your hall neighbor out, but you appreciated the wealth of information he spilled out once a drop of liquor hit his tongue. 

Currently, Alhaitham is employed at the top company in Sumeru city. he’s the secretary but quickly raising up the ranks. He also owns his own house in a rich suburb, one he used to share with the drunk man beside you, but now it only houses himself. 

“Not only that but every week like clockwork that apathetic bastard would bring home the ugliest furniture. He once brought home an old piano. It took up so much space and clashed against the dark wood of the house! He wouldn’t even try to arrange them, he messed up the feng shui! He can’t even play! What was it for then?!” 

Ah, you can see why the architect was willing to move into the lackluster apartment, he was desperate the spare his blood pressure. You don’t blame him, in fact hearing about your former friend’s spending habits brought a sour aftertaste to your wine.

Oh, how nice it must be to have such financial freedom. 

“Then whenever I make a polite suggestion that he try to consider aesthetics, his response? ‘It is my life, my house, and my money. Suggestions from others are irrelevant and should be ignored. I’m guessing such philosophies are difficult to uphold for designers who must bend to their client’s will.’ Can you believe how insufferable he is?”  

“Hypocrite.” That word rolled bitterly off your tongue, a past dialogue resurfacing from the back of your mind. 

The blond’s hazy eyes peered at your inquisitively. Then his drunken mind sparks a thought: Why were you asking about Alhaitham? He also remembers that he had unanswered questions as well. 

“By the way, what is your relation to that detached man?”

“Just a nobody who got compared to his brilliance.” 

That doesn’t satisfy his question at all. 

“Not this game again. Seriously, just what went down between the two of-”

“For a person who prides himself on his empathy, you sure are oblivious to the discomfort you’re causing. Prying for details that don’t concern you.” A deep voice from behind made your skin prickle. 

Why was he here?

You didn’t need to look to feel the heavy weight of his teal eyes, boring holes into your stiff frame. The wine tasted awful now. It’s rude to ditch the guest that you had invited out, but you needed to get out of here before bile begins to taint your palette. 

Quickly signaling for the tab, you didn’t even comprehend the number before you slammed down a bunch of mora. 

“I’ll leave first. It was nice drinking with you, Kaveh. Let’s do this again sometime.” An excuse and lie. 

“Hey, wait-” The blond lifted up his hand. 

“I’ll walk you home. It’s quite dangerous this time of night around here.” Alhaitham’s body turned to follow you. Ah, he’s pointing out how shit your neighborhood was, isn’t he. 

“Oi! Stop interrupting your senior-”

Alhaitham tosses an extra handful of mora onto the table. Kaveh was nearly shaking with rage, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of another few glasses of wine.

You were taking exaggerated strides across the uneven concrete, trying to put some distance between you. However, your legs were no match for the towering man’s steps, as it wasn’t before long until he caught up. 

The clicking of your shoes and the thumps of his steps filled the tense silence. You refused to meet his gaze. But the thoughts racing through your mind needed answers, in particular, why is he haunting you now of all times? 

“Why are you here?” You punched in the code for the entrance of the complex. 

“I was looking for you. It just so happens that I spotted you through the window of the bar.” 

There was an annoyed twitch at your eyebrow. He is not aware of how creepy he sounded right now?

You swiftly pulled the heavy door open and tried to slam it behind you, to create a barrier. However, Alhaitham’s foot was just a bit faster. His tall figure continued to loom behind you as you ascended the stairs. 

“I have a reason to seek you.” 

“Oh? Then pray tell, why a young professional would follow a woman to her home.” Keys fumbling to fit into the loose door handle. 

“I took a CD. I’m no thief, and I believe that a musician should be fairly compensated for her work.” Came his flat reply. 

That’s it? You already had a terrible week at work, becoming the scapegoat for the incompetency of managers. Now, his presence was only exacerbating the negativity flowing through you. Maybe the heat of the fire hasn’t been completely forgotten. You don’t want his money, you don’t want his pity. 

For the first time, you whipped around intentionally staring straight into his teal-orange irises. You don’t need his money nor pity. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was the mounting stress on your shoulders or a damning combination of both.

You wanted to wipe that indifferent look off his handsome face, you couldn’t stand it. 

Alhaitham’s lips parted ready to continue the transaction, only to be interrupted by the crashing of another on his. Your fingers were tangled in the collar of his shirt, wrinkling the crisp fabric. Your burning stare never left his slightly raised eyes, wanting to observe anything hint of human emotion. 

Shock? Disgust? Fury? You’d take anything over his infuriatingly stoic face. 

Instead of shoving you off like you inferred, Alhaitham slowly lowers his eyelids. Parting his lips even more as if to grant more access, allowing his tongue to dance with yours. These actions only irked you more. 

This wasn’t your first kiss with him, the first time happened while two friends were sitting by a piano, heads turning to face each other too fast. An accidental brushing of lips. It irked you that the mushy feeling from that day was currently making its grand return. 

Breaking away to allow oxygen back into your burning lungs, a thin strand of saliva trailing between. You were panting as his eyes reconnected with yours, something else was swimming behind those impartial irises. Too bad you were too impatient to decipher it, as you pulled his face back down.

Back pushing the rusty apartment door ajar. Two bodies disappeared behind the awful singing of its hinges. 

–

For once, you woke up before the screeching of your phone. The sun was just barely peeking through the blinds. A muscular arm was draped over your bare torso, sheets still a bit damp from sweat. You knew that smell currently suffocating you in the room. You just slept with your former friend. 

Your hand itched to slap your face. Idiot, you avoided him for all this time just to welcome him into your bed. 

Stealthily shimming your body out of bed, you could feel the slight wobble of your legs. Of course, he’s good at sex, he’s good at everything. You cast a quick glance at his slumbering form. Teal eyes were still hidden behind closed lids. Good, he’s not awake.

Like a thief in your own home, you toed around the clothes scattered across the floor, careful to avoid the creaky wooden planks you’ve memorized. 

Swiftly grabbing a random assortment of items out of your closet, you deemed the outfit professional enough for work. Trying to glide across the cluttered apartment like a ghost, you put on your heels, ready for the walk of shame away from your apartment. At least your gym membership will see some use now, a shower would be great to wash the shame and guilt off. 

It’s not like you had anything worth stealing. Grabbing your bag off the table, you exited the scene of the crime. Hinges announcing your departure.

If the you from a few months ago saw what the reunion of friends had morphed into, she’d probably keel over in shock. Can you even call yourselves friends anymore?

The next Saturday following that incident, you had finished up another gig at Lambad’s Tavern. An all too familiar face made his way up to the piano. Browsing through the selection of CDs you still had on display. 

“I’ll take this one.” Alhaitham held the smooth plastic in one hand, as his other reached for his wallet. 

You gestured for him to stop. Crossing your arms in front of your body as if soothing your nerves. Pride still too great to accept his money, a resource he seems to have in excess. Just earlier in the day, after reaching the second round in the audition, the proctor thanked you for your time and lead you to the exit. Another failed attempt to join an orchestra.

You knew that returning to your cramped abode will only lead you to wallow in misery with a cheap bottle of liquor. 

“You can come over. I’ll take it as compensation.” 

How would you define this relationship? Friends with benefits? But the two of you were ex-friends, so that wouldn’t really make sense. Regardless, you knew what you wanted. To forget the sting of failure through pleasure. You turned your head to face him, awaiting his reply. An attentive stare was the silent confirmation you needed. 

Does he think you’re easy or desperate? You didn’t particularly care for his opinion anymore. Alhaitham was currently kneeling by the side of your mused bed, he was here to ‘compensate’ you, and compensate he will. Your thighs were firmly held in his large hands, spreading them apart granting him access to the honeypot he seeks. 

His hot tongue lapped at your slick folds, parting the labia and collecting your slick. Making sure to end the journey with a small flick to the little nub on top, before the wet muscle traveled back down. The noise was sinfully melodic. Your legs were straining against his hold, instinctively wanting to close in on his face, but his strength far surpasses yours. So instead, you pressed your lips into the back of your hand. Denying him the privilege to hear your moans.

This must’ve displeased him greatly, as the next thing you knew he broke from his steady tempo, and his soft lips enclosed around your sensitive clit. Alhaitham’s tongue was now accompanied by the suction of his mouth, torturing your poor little bundle. Slurping and sloppy wet flicks bounced off the thin walls. Hot flashes shot up your legs as your toes curled, a moan was fighting its way past your teeth. 

He changed his pace once more. Now intertwining deep laps of your leaking hole with the overwhelming attention on your now swollen clit. Your honey was dripping down his chin as he continued his efforts. Your legs were trembling now, unable to give any resistance against his domineering hold. Thus, allowing him to slip one hand between, two long fingers stretching out your gummy walls. Prodding their way through the tight warm hole, mapping out their way to that special spongey patch. 

Your teeth wouldn’t hold back the moan any longer. Back arching off the messy sheets, the internal and external pleasure created a maddening duo, pushing your sanity off the edge. Your vision when white was your body shook, nonsense babbling out of your lips. Alhaitham gave your pulsing clit a few more slick licks before pressing a sweet kiss against it. 

His towering frame got up from the floor to loom over your recovering body. Teal eyes observing every twitch and shiver of your sloppy face. Soon his face descended closer, this time you were the quick one. Snapping your head to the side. Denying him a kiss, lest those mushy emotions bubble up during this moment. Alhaitham stills, he says nothing, just letting his warm breath fan across your face. 

He got the message. Pulling away to give space between your lips, he searches his back pocket for a condom. Even with your bodies connected. There was still a line deeply etched into the sand, separating the two of you.  

–

Once again you woke up before him. Once again you slipped out of his embrace. Ocne more his arms gave no protest. Another journey to the gym. 

One time turned into two times, two times turned into… you lost count at this point. However, it would simply be a waste of time to think too deeply about it. It’s Alhaitham after all, that man would never bother with activities that waste his time. If it doesn’t serve to benefit in any way, he’d be the first to drop it, what an objective guy he is. 

The two of you were still young professionals with a lot of steam to let off. A familiar face of convenience to destress and feel the wisp of comfort from another warm body in this cold world. This is what’s become of the pile of ashes from a once beautiful bridge.

The back of your head hit against the brick wall supporting your body. Another rejection, this time you made it all the way to the semi-finals. Alas, from behind a curtain, the panel of judges deemed you unworthy of playing in their esteemed orchestra. Your aching fingers dug into your palms, hoping that the pain would distract from the burning sting welling up in your eyes.

The pursuit of knowledge and the pursuit of dreams were more similar to each other than what great scholars of the nation of wisdom cared to admit.

They were the shining light that broke through the murky uncertainly of life, beckoning stray souls towards them. Those lost in the labyrinth of reality desperately seek to walk the path illuminated by their glow. 

In the end, knowledge and dreams were like the sun’s warm rays shining through the leaves of a tree. No matter how many times your hands reach for and grab, you can never hold them.  

The multiple part-time jobs you juggled between your college courses taught you the most valuable lesson no lecture ever could: Dreams cost money, and so did rent, and so did food, and so did utilities. 

Scornfully, you had to tack on extra courses to your piano major, a witless minor in business administration. It stings your pride to this day to attribute your current steady stream of income to that last-minute academic decision. 

It stung because, in the end, Alhaitham’s prediction was correct. Regardless of if one was a natural or artificial prodigy like you. Even the brightest and most dedicated musicians aren’t guaranteed a career, degree or not. Perhaps, this truth that you’ve come to terms with was the water that smothered the flame of anger. Leaving behind the defeated wisps of regret and embarrassment. 

Of course Alhaitham was right, he always is. 

There was a chime from the store door opening up beside you. A certain ashen-haired man walked out with a bouquet of Sumeru roses in hand. ‘Speak of the devil, and he doth appear’.

You quickly adverted your gaze, but it was useless as he had already taken note of your presence. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Deciding to take control of the conversation before anything starts. 

“I don’t have a show tonight.” Referring to the bouquet in his hands. 

“I’m aware. I was going to visit my grandmother today.” His deep voice drummed. 

Oh. You wanted the archons to strike you down at this very moment. Stupid, why did you assume such things? There’s nothing but a tightrope formed by virtue of convenience connecting your paths. Just what were you hoping for? Your cheeks were now burning with shame. 

“Would you like to come with me?” His calm tone beckons you out of your thoughts. 

At this rate, how could you refuse? Perhaps it was due to the surmounting weight of guilt and embarrassment. But a part of you also knows it’s because you missed her. So you followed Alhaitham to his car, buckling yourself in and opening your arms, offering to carry the flowers. The car ride was silent the whole time. 

Alhaitham’s grandmother always looked at you with those tender warm eyes of hers. Extending out a warm hand to comb through your locks in exchange for every song you’d play for her. She was the only voice that offered your impoverished heart any words of encouragement.

Words that brought an inkling of warmth from the icy stares of your parents. 

–

The final note echoed throughout the common area of the hospital. Applause could be heard from the few patients attending your impromptu concert. However, your attention was focused all on the soft smile of the frail woman in the wheelchair beside you. Her thin, wrinkled hands clapped together. 

Jokingly you gave a dramatic bow from your sitting position at the piano bench, earning a gentle chuckle from her. 

“Oh, what a lovely performance by the loveliest girl.” A hand reached out towards you. 

You swiftly bowed your head under her palm, allowing her fingers to rest against your scalp. Gently she began to stroke your head, making a wide smile stretch your cheeks. Your heart’s weekly dose of encouragement. However, this tender moment was broken by the vibrations of your phone. Your eyes quickly scanned the name of the caller. 

Oh, it was your tutor, you skipped your lessons once more in favor of visiting the Bimarstan. 

The woman beside you takes note of this and lets out a huff. 

“You’re already plenty smart. I don’t understand why your parents insist on such endeavors.” 

You didn’t have the heart to tell her the hours of tutoring and cram schools you sandwiched between your demanding schedule was due to the idolization of her grandson. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t his. 

It was yours, for not being to stand on equal footing with the prodigy Alhaitham. You pressed your lips sealed. This detail didn’t escape her aging eyes. She shifted her attention to the sheet music propped up on the stand. 

“Do you know the story behind Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro?”

You tilted your head to the side, you’ve never researched any piece in depth before. Reading your answer from this action, the old lady continued. 

“It was written for quite a famous play. A story and message that caused waves through society at the time. A story about servants rebelling against their masters, taking fate into their own hands.” Her warm eyes gave you a knowing look. 

“That is why it’s my favorite song from Mozart.”

“Oh? Then I’ll play it for you again. As many times as you want.” The smile returned to your face. 

You never thought that the next time you’d ever play that song would be at her funeral. Fellow professors and colleagues dressed in black filled the room of the wake, paying their respects to her and their condolences to the young man beside you.

What an awful transition into adulthood Alhaitham had. 

Tears streamed down your face, dripping onto the marble floor. Peering at the face of your dearest friend, his cheeks were dry. 

By the time the sky began to turn its brilliant pink and orange hues, the attendees had all funneled out of the room. Your parents were the first ones to leave, but you stayed firmly by Alhaitham’s side. It was only you, him, and the casket in the room now. 

She wanted a private burial, thus the staff informed you that they’ll begin the process soon. However, before they did, you wanted to play her favorite song one last time. Your send-off for her. 

Sitting down at the sleek black piano provided by the funeral home, you took a deep breath. Alhaitham takes his place next to you on the bench, with his back facing the piano you couldn’t see his face. 

The bright tones of this joyful song resounding through the room harshly contrasted the somber mood. But you continued playing regardless, fingers never skipping a note nor compromising the tempo. 

Alhaitham’s head found its way on your shoulder, the weight slightly interfering with your range of motion. However, you didn’t say anything and never stopped playing. The bright melody comforting two grieving souls. 

–

The last memories you had of her resurfacing as he places the flowers down at her grave. The tombstone is still as clean and polished as the day it was inlaid into the ground. A testament to the diligence of her grandson, the only family she left behind.

Today was the first time the day didn’t end with a trip to your bed. The mood was inappropriate for such things. 

Just two souls quietly reminiscing about the things that are now gone. As it was, it shall never be again. 

If his colleagues were to ever discover the current predicament the raising secretary of the company was in, they’d either dismiss it or laugh at him. How unthinkable. The phlegmatic man whose hands always held the reins of control, reduced to such a complacent fool? The desert would freeze over before any of them would ever believe such a thing. 

However, Alhaitham didn’t need to justify his actions to anyone. The ashen-haired man already knew the reason behind his actions. He’s known for quite a while now. He holds his convictions firmly and will walk through hell with them.

–

Sitting down in a private study room provided by the university, a senior was currently wallowing in an irrelevant emotion. Alhaihtam knows the name, it’s grief.

Of course, it’s depressing to lose a familiar face, a person who stood by your side throughout your developmental years. However, you were still alive. Why is he grieving over a person who’s still healthy and breathing? Questions unrelated to his thesis plagued his thoughts as his paper remained untouched on the desk.

Teal irises scan the stack of books he had piled to the side. Perhaps he should review some of the material to refresh his mind about his thesis on the consequences of unrecorded words.

Picking a random psychology journal from the mound, this book could hold the answers to why his thoughts are redundant. Alhaitham began his quest for an epiphany.

The student’s experienced eyes scanned through the text, noting details that could potentially support his points. It’s not a surprise that psychology and etymology go hand in hand, after all, words were born out of human thought and the need to communicate them.

This journal was only scratching at the ceiling that prevented him from crossing into the territory of true understanding. It frustrated him. 

Disdainfully scrutinizing the text further, running through each passage over and over, until he finally reads the first line of the final page:

“Psychology as a science has its limitations, and, as the logical consequence of theology is mysticism, so the ultimate consequence of psychology is love.”

The student finally closes the covers of the book, it had served its purpose.

No matter how many times his thoughts circled back, searching for correlations and different conclusions from figurative pinpoints. Alhaitham knew in the end, they were all just excuses. 

Love is illogical by nature, an unexplainable consequence of human thought. A fever which comes and goes independently of the will. Maybe, the true explanation of love has been lost to time, the unwritten words that belonged in the spaces between the script printed in preserved texts. 

So Alhaitham will understand his limits now. It matters not if he understands the origins of love or language or words. All that mattered to him is that he understands now: He was in love. A diagnosis and truth that came years too late. With this revelation quelling his thoughts, he finished his thesis. 

Acceptance, the last stage of grief. 

–

‘This is unhealthy’ a voice in his mind chastised. Alhaitham didn’t feel the need to defend his current actions, because the voice was right. This is unhealthy. Teal eyes concealed the running thoughts in his head, watching the raising and falling of your chest.

After all these years you reappeared in front of him. The ashen-haired man knew he couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Even though it was made from a rope of thorns, he still grabbed onto it. 

For now, he shall set aside his pride, his hubris. Sex was the only time you would willingly approach him. Alhaitham was more than willing to exchange his body for the privilege of being close to you once more. A fair trade in his mind. 

‘If you love something set it free. If it comes back it's yours. If not, it was never meant to be.’

The stoic man is sure the saying would disagree with his tampering. Like setting a songbird free, only to lure it back into his hands with the irresistible treat of pleasure. It was all he could do. Alhaitham knew that cruelly grasping at the songbird will only snap the fragile tightrope that connected your paths. 

After all, you had fled the hated cage of your childhood home the moment the door was left open. He already decided he won’t do that to you. 

Instead, he’ll keep holding out his hand, palms wide open, waiting for you to come back to taste the pleasure he offers you time after time again.

You were laying on his chest, sleep drenched every fiber of your being, heart vibrating steadily against his own. 

It’s a paradox, how can your body be so close but your heart still so far away? 

The desire for sleep outweighed his lust for answers. Or it could be that he already knew, he was just delaying the thought for the morning. His heavy lids closed.

When they open again in the morning, he knows they’ll be greeted by the sight of an empty bed. He knows the sheets that hold your lingering scent will be cold. He knows he will be left alone in your apartment.

Alhaitham knows, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

The Sumeru Grand Orchestra, the golden ticket for any musician. Status, recognition, and generous paychecks. When the auditions were first announced you were one of the first to jump at the opportunity, and so did everyone else, flooding the application sites, but you were able to secure a number: 211. 

Weeks in advance on a muted keyboard you practiced every classical piece you could, sharpening your sightreading senses. You were led into the waiting room with all the other aspiring musicians, it was now a game of survival. 

You made it to the final round. It’s been five hours since you last left the palatial concert hall where the auditions were held. The one cramped room was now a motionless void, mutterings of prayers to any archon that would listen whispered through the thick air. 

“Number 211.” 

You were the lamb up for slaughter. The audition piece that was placed into your hand half an hour ago crumbled under the force of your tense grip. The proctor closed the door behind you, stealing off your path of escape as they led you through the labyrinth. At the end of the tunnel, you were greeted by the harsh stage lights glaring off the grand piano. 

The curtains that once shielded you from the captious glares of the judges were gone. All of you laid out clearly on the stage. Your fate is balanced on the tips of their immaculate pens. The minuscule tremble of your hands couldn’t escape their hawk eyes.

Chin up and shoulders back, you strolled across the polished wooden planks, settling down at the matte black piano, it was like staring into the abyss. 

Taking a deep breath, you signaled the start. Fingers danced along the ivory keys in accordance with the notes memorized. This stanza was from Meditation from Thais, the hypnotic theme filling the empty concert hall.

It’s been a while since you hear your own playing resounded out through such a place. However, this was a turning point a chance to take fate into your own hands. 

To once again stand under the warm lights and bow to an audience enamored by your music. For the songbird to fly free from it’s grey sterile cubical. 

“Stop.” A cold voice struck the fragile wings of a bird in flight. 

You did as you were ordered, even before your mind even registered the words. Oh no, you weren’t finished, you didn’t get to complete this round. 

“Number 211 is disqualified. The playing is soulless, empty notes that just echo off the walls.” 

–

Soulless. Huh, you’ve never been told that before. Raindrops landed into your unblinking eyes as they observed the darkening sky. Was nature taking pity on you too? Crying for you when your tear ducts were still frozen in shock? You let the cold droplets trail down your cheek. Around you, the crowd dressed in suits and ties walked passed the scene of a death.

The death of your dreams. 

You used up one of your precious sick days to attend this audition, but now it might no longer be just an excuse. You couldn’t feel anything but the sharp shards of shattered hope gouging into your back. Staring up at the gray sky from the deep, cold well of your misery.

When did this happen? When did the bright fire fizzle out? When did your passion die?

A sorry excuse of a laugh slipped out. No, it might be accurate to say that there was never a passion in the first place, something nonexistent cannot die. Something nonexistent cannot be created even if the haze of a fever dream might say otherwise. Now that the rain had washed away that haze, you could now clearly see the void. 

Did you really like the piano? Or was it a lie engrained into your flesh by stern hands? 

Maybe the judges were right, your playing was soulless, pieces only ever practiced for technical perfection. Talent meticulously crafted by grueling long hours. Fingers that separated your beating heart from the inanimate black and white keys. In the end, you were an artificial prodigy, with an artificial passion that quickly denigrated under the droplets of calm rain. 

“You’re soaked.” A baritone voice resounded behind you as a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. 

Alhaitham had just gotten off the clock, exiting the grand sliding doors only to spot your listless figure standing as an obstacle for the weaving crowd of the city. However, you kept staring at the dull sky, uncaring about how your wet clothes clung to your shivering figure. You didn’t even seem to perceive his words. 

“You’re going to get sick.” Two warm hands placed themselves upon your shoulders, guiding your body to a secluded area, away from the crowd and rain. 

This motion jostled your eyes, allowing them to read the company name proudly displayed on the front of the towering skyscraper. Was this the future you had gambled away for a false path shown to you by a dream? A steady job, good savings benefits, and prospective increases in income. All the chips you had pushed into the center of the table as you drew dud cards. 

You shifted your eyes away from the imposing letters and connected with teal-orange irises. Was his mask of indifference hiding his smug satisfaction that his prediction was correct? Was he holding back an ‘I told you so’? The bitter whispers of a green-eyed devil tickled against the shell of your ear. 

“Come, I’ll drive you home.” 

No, you can’t go back to your abysmal apartment. You couldn’t even stomach the thought of seeing the sight of your reality. The messy bedroom, the music sheets scattered all across the cluttered living room, the mocking keyboard pressed up against a corner. If you were to step foot back in there, you’ll disappear under the murky waters in the ocean called ‘regret’. 

Your trembling hands grounded themselves in the crisp button-down, crumbling the fabric against Alhaitham’s smooth skin. No words could travel past your vocal cords, throat numb to move. All you could do was shake your hang head from side to side. You could feel the ashen-haired man take a deep breath, his mind quickly forming an alternative plan. 

“Come with me.” Large hands gently untangling your fingers from his clothes. 

–

Those same gentle hands were now rubbing a fresh towel through your dripping hair, soaking up the excess water that had been trailing droplets down your skin. His house was quiet, no rumbling of car engines from the streets, no loud gurgling pipes, no thumping footsteps. Still and serene, only allowing the soft pattering of rain kissing the ground and windows.

Alhaitham hasn’t spoken a single word to you ever since he welcomed you into his home and sat you down. 

As Alhaitham continued with his efforts to warm your shivering body, all you could do was observe the spotless wooden floors. They were so polished and lustrous… just like the grandiose stage.

Something vile was creeping up your neck, slowly making its way up to the falling sanctuary of your mind. No, you needed to push it back, you needed to distract it. To buy you some time before the vileness consumes you wholly. 

Hopeless hands trailed up the toned arms of the man currently drying your hair, making his movements stop. You took this opportunity to shift your body so that it pressed against his, the dampness of your clothes transferring to his. Ah, it must be uncomfortable for him. 

Clumsily, you began to undo the neat buttons of his button-down, only for your hands to be enclosed within a delicate grip. You could feel the weight of his condemnatory gaze upon you, teal eyes observing your movements as if he was calculating his next move. 

There wasn’t any time for contemplation. The bitter bile thoughts were quickly encroaching on their destination. With your hands immobilized you used your mouth instead, nuzzling into the skin that peeked through the unopened portion.

You could feel the small shiver of his warm body reacting to your cold cheek. Alhaitham lets out a deep sigh, hot breath fanning over the top of your head. He got the message. 

Your soaked dress was pulled over your head, heavy black fabric falling to the side of the bed in which you lay now. The sheets providing your shivering body with softness and a semblance of warmth. Alhaitham presses tender kisses down the nape of your neck, stopping between the valley of your breast to push your body further up the bed.

Larger hands ran along the length of your legs, as if to warm them up with the slow friction. Your legs gave no resistance as he places one over his shoulder, lips brushing against your knee. 

You let out a small sigh, the skin-on-skin contact was just what your frozen body needed. Your body twisted further into his sheets, your other leg pressed against the back of his hip as if to spur him to hasten his pace. However, Alhaitham, being the steadfast man he is, ignored your neediness and continued to trail kisses down your soft skin. His mouth ended his journey with a slow and deep lap at your clit, causing your body to jolt. 

“Mmm.”

Your skin has thawed, every nerve now acutely aware of each slow lick his wet tongue brushed against your sensitive bud. You no longer had any pride to uphold, thus moans just freely flowed out of your mouth just as how slick dripped from your aching hole. Once more you dug your heel into him, your neglected walls yearning for attention.

This time he was merciful, running one thick finger along the slick pooling between your folds. Gathering up the dew and tracing small circles along the entrance.

A whine followed, you twisted even more along the tussled sheets, reaching a hand down to tangle into his ashen locks. Alhaitham gave you want you wanted, slowly his thick finger was welcomed into your eager walls as his tongue continued to play with your clit. Your head was thrown back, heavy pants fogging up the room in the air, lidden eyes barely anything but the back of your head. 

Another finger was soon added, stretching out your leaking hole only leaving your gummy walls craving more. A few soft kisses were pressed against your now twitching bud, before his skilled tongue took over for the final push toward nirvana. With practiced precision his fingers swiftly pressed against that spongey patch, making white flames shoot up your spine. Your quivering legs and curling toes didn’t faze Alhaitham in the slightest.

“OH!”

With a firm tug to ashen locks and one final flick to your swollen clit, your eyes meet the back of your head, a stretched moan bounced off the walls. Back arched almost painfully off the bed, Alhaitham continued the slow thrust of his soaked fingers into your contracting hole. As you rode the waves of pleasure back down, Alhaitham finally detaches his lips from your cunt, a slick trail connecting them. 

The burning between your legs didn’t stop. You needed more, legs wrapping around his muscular torso, urging him to give you more. His self-control all but turns into dust in your presence. There’s not a plausible scenario where he could ever deny you. Finally, his leaking member can have its turn. 

Fighting against the restraints of your legs, Alhaitham was able to pull the condom over his full length. Your hole jolted with joy the moment it felt his fat tip pressing up against your entrance. The slow circling before he finally sunk in, in an instant your walls clung onto every inch he pushed in, thanking him with pulsing contractions.

He sucked in a long hiss from how your warm, slick walls perfectly hugged him. You let your tongue loll out with a deep moan, legs pulling his body closer so that your arms could find purchase around his broad shoulders. 

His pace was slow and deep, warming your walls up so as to not hurt the delicate you. This greatly displeased you, evident by how your nails dug into the solid muscle of his shoulders. You need it fast, you wanted it deep, you wanted him to pound those bitter thoughts away with his thick member. Two hands clasped around your hips, snapping your body tightly against his. He’ll grant your request. 

“Ah! Ah! AH!” 

His merciless pace had your breast bouncing and incomprehensible words babbling out of your lips. Heavy cock dragging out along your grasping walls, then slamming his hips harshly against your sobbing cunt. Every punishing thrust was welcomed by your slick walls thanking him. His heavy pants fanned across your ear as he continued this ruthless speed. 

Your body was now burning, precipitation hanging heavy in the air, yet you still arched your back off the bed to chase after his warmth. Bodies entangled in a mess of limbs in an animalistic chase after pleasure and orgasm. 

The wet noises of your weeping hole welcoming him back in over and over again. In between the heavy slaps of his balls against your sloppy cunt and thick tip bullying your poor spot, you could feel the deep vibrations in his chest. 

“Look at me.” You felt him pull away just a bit so he could have a clear view of your loose face. 

You didn’t want to. Lest his searching teal eyes discover the truth of why you pulled him into bed, to give him the satisfaction. You squeezed your lids closed. The particularly deep thrust he snapped displayed his displeasure at your actions. 

“Please.” The unfamiliar words coming from his mouth made your eyes wide again. The tone is gentle. 

So, with your resolve weakened, you finally connected with his gaze. What was that look in his eyes? It was too soft to be malice, too calm to be anger, too tender to just be lust. Yet your pleasure-melted brain couldn’t process it.

 In gratitude for you granting his wish, his thumb found its way to your swollen clit, rubbing deep circles into the sensitive nerve. You pressed yourself impossibly hard against his body, walls clamping down on his thick member. 

His actions made the knot inside your stomach pull against itself taught until the treads of sanity snapped. Even though your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, all you could see was the blinding white light of cloud nine. Your walls clamped down around him like a vise, snug walls now binding his length. Alhaitham clenches his jaw, stoic face twisted in the throws of pleasure as he spills himself into the barrier deep within. 

Long fingers painting the sides of your hips red as he recomposes himself. Chest heaving from the exertion. He helps himself to a few more slow thrusts in your gummy walls, riding out his own orgasm even as his red tip teetered on the edge of pain and pleasure. Your soft thighs still entrapping his towering frame. It looks like you still haven’t come down yet. 

Alhaitham’s hand gently cupped your messy face. Your lips were off limits, so he shall kiss those bitter tears away from your eyes instead. 

Like always you woke up before Alhaitham again. However, this time you couldn’t bear to look at his face. Was this out of embarrassment, shame, or guilt? You didn’t know and didn’t care.

Unwrapping his arms from around your waist, you hobbled towards the clack lump of your dress. The fabric was still ever so slightly damp, ah, the sensation against your skin made the bitter bile restart its journey again. 

You couldn’t help the envy that bubbled up in your system as you observed the spacious halls of Alhaitham’s house. Footsteps softly tap along the polished wood floors so as not to awaken the sleeping homeowner.

Of course, he has a nice house in the most upscale neighborhood. Of course, it's located in a quiet suburb a commutable distance away from the raucous city. Of course, it has nice big windows and expensive dark wood furnishings. 

Of course. Of course. Of course. It’s because he’s Alhaitham. He’s got everything. 

Your face scrunched up as bitterness crept up from the back of your tongue. It wasn’t from the bitter waters of regret, no, it was from a certain green-eyed creature. You needed to leave this house as soon as possible before you did something foolish. 

You dug your hand into your purse for your phone, ready to call a lift back to your shabby apartment. It was all becoming too much. Just at the end of the hall, you could spot the solid oak doors that blocked off the outside world. Get out of this cage and breathe the fresh air. 

You no longer cared about the noise your steps were making, thumps echoed throughout the halls frantically carrying you toward the shiny knob. A shaky hand grasped onto the cold smooth metal, ready to twist the deadbolt free. A glimmer of white coming from the side room caught your eye, reeling it back from its tunnel vision. Your head couldn’t help but follow. 

It was a grand piano. 

His former roommate was right, the white lacquer finish on the piano contrasted harshly against the dark wood bookshelves. It really did look out of place, taking up too much space in the side library. The dark walnut wood piano seat looked odd next to it as well. 

The viridescent seat cushion looked a bit worn as if it had been sat in regularly. Still, the pearly finish that reflected the morning rays beckoned you closer, the sense of nostalgia growing stronger with each step. 

It looked exactly like your old piano, your most cherished treasure that had been plundered from you so long ago. Trembling hands ran along the glossy fallboard, not a speck of dust was found along the paths of your fingers. You caught sight of the gold lettering inscribed along the front, it was even the same brand. 

The pull of intrigue was too great, you had to know, but do you dare? Why are you lifting your hopes up so high? Have you not learned your lesson after being dropped over and over again onto the cold pavement of disappointment below? Maybe you were some type of masochist. Just like Schrodinger’s cat, you can’t confirm if those hopes were dead or alive until you opened the lid. 

A resounding creek rang out from the protesting hinges, the lacquered lid heavy as if trying to conceal the truth away from your searching eyes. But your determination beat out any old hinges, lifting the heavy top above your head. Your breathing halted. 

Property of Bookworm and Earworm

It was written clear as day on the naked wood concealed by the glossy outer casing. Clumsy letters scribbled in harsh black permanent marker. The proof of authenticity. This is your treasured piano. 

Your arm lost all strength, the heavy lid slammed down reverberating all the strings and hammers in a chaotic symphony of shock. The clashing vibrations pierced your ears, causing the ringing that was now the background music to the realization crashing down upon you. 

All this time, Alhaitham stayed himself. His unfazed individuality moved through life to the metronome of his own heart. Like a firm apple tree whose roots held the ground below him together. The fruits of his labor dropping down to satiate a heart hungry for encouragement.

The shiny red fruits were given at every meeting, in exchange for every CD and performance attended. All this time, he never once looked at you with pity nor disdain. He treasured you.

And what have you given in return? You participated in gossip behind his back. You looked at him with the same prejudice you promised to defend him from. You broke your promises to him. You lied to him. You used him, even down to his physical body to further your own self-interests. 

When did the whispers of a green-eyed monster turn you into that selfish child from the storybook? 

If your past self was there to witness the scene in front of her, she’d be appalled. She’d beat you with hatred at the torment you put her beloved friend through. Yes, she’d hate you. You hate you. You’ve never hated yourself more.

How could you do this to him? You really are your parent’s child. You never considered how the shrapnel of consequences from your actions would wound those close by. 

You couldn’t even look at the reflection staring back at you from the polished white surface, her eyes stared back at you with malice. You were a selfish traitor. 

Too self-absorbed in your own wallowing to notice the slow steps approaching from down the hallway. Alhaitham’s steps were slow as he stared at the back of your figure. Like a watcher trying not to startle a resting songbird. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes, making sure he wasn’t just looking at the afterimage of a person who had long left the house. 

A small creak was all it took for your head to snap toward his approaching figure. Eyes wide and shaking. Alhaitham made sure to stop a arms length away as he accesses the situation. It looks like you’ve discovered his small secret. A fragment of the past that he relentlessly searched for, the only time he ever asked anything of your parents. He planned to return it to you one day. 

You looked like you could collapse at any moment, so Alhaitham held out his hand, palms open and awaiting. You reached a quivering hand out, pulling back slightly a few times before finally landing. Your fingers clasped onto each other, you drew closer to his board figure until your forehead was resting against his chest. You didn’t dare look at his face.

He made no further moves. 

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry.” Your mouth couldn’t stop spewing the regrets deep from your heart. 

Even though you were apologizing, you didn’t want him to forgive you. You couldn’t even forgive yourself, how could he? It would be easier if he just hated you. If he were to just say ‘I hate you’ right now with that stoic voice of his, you could die peacefully. The best end that you deserved. You could feel the wet spots forming on his shirt from your tears. 

“I won’t forgive you.” The vibrations from his deep voice were felt against you.

Four words cut into you deeper than any knife ever could. But you deserved this pain. Your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth, on the verge of splitting open from how hard you were biting back your cries. You didn’t deserve to cry. 

“Not until you play Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro.” 

Those words halted your breathing. Like a rope that’s been thrown down the dark well you were wallowing in. Will your hands reach out and grasp onto this opportunity? Slowly you lifted your gaze up. Something behind the calm teal of his eyes was egging you on to do so, to take a hold of the lifeline thrown down from the bright sky. 

“… Of course.” You let go of him. 

Moving back over to your grand piano. Lifting the smaller section of the lid first this time placing it gently back on the larger section, allowing the music rack to appear. Setting up the notches into position, you then lifted the heavy back lid up. Placing the prop up this time so as to not put your piano through the same chaos again. 

Finally, the dustfree fallboard was lifted up, revealing the keyboards that held the faint imprints of history. You settled your self-down at the bench, your hands hesitantly reaching out only for your fingers to retract the moment your soft tips brushed against the smooth ivory. The bitter shame of failure scorching your delicate senses. 

Inhaling a deep breath, you turned to face Alhaitham reconnecting with his teal gaze as he stayed in place. A silent plead. With quiet steps, he approaches closer to the bench, the wooden protested under the added weight. Two bodys not touching, facing in opposite directions. Ah, just like a familiar scene from many years ago. 

Once more, you attempted to reach out your fingers, emboldened by the soothing body heat of the man besides you. Placing your fingers back into position, the scorning of your finger tips becoming irrelevant. Lulling you to return back into the blackness of your sanctuary of mind. Recalling the song that symbolized a period of great change, wonderful change. 

The pressed keys played their notes, the hammers inside your piano striking against the string. Ringing out the awful tones of stings that have gone out of tune from years of unuse. Even if it stung you ears and his the same, you continued to play the chipper overture. The bitter bile fizzling out like sea form, as laughter tickled the inside of your throat. 

“It sounds terrible.” You giggled honestly. 

“Mm. I’m not all that familiar with performance etiquette, but I’m certain talking during a show is bad manners.” There was no bit to his words. You couldn’t see his face, you could hear the smile. 

Two hearts now closer than previously, became the metronome for the off-key rendition of Mozart's Marriage of Figaro, accompanied by the bright giggles of the pianist and the content sigh of her audience. Outside the window, a songbird chirps to greet the beautiful sun that resurfaced after a day of rain.

He absolutely adores you, he always has. He knows that you know now. But he also knows that you weren’t ready to hear it. The weight of three small words would be enough to topple the stability of your consciousness. It wasn’t strong enough to handle them, not after the mangling hands of guilt and regret vandalized it. 

So he won’t say those three words, not yet, not until you’ve repaired your cracking foundations. Alhaitham will wait to tell you ‘I love you’. Like a patient tree standing on the hill biding its time for the return of a beloved creature. 

Fin~

DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

[skele-bunny]

Occupied. (No CW.) Aether/Dewdrop/Mountain

CW - NONE

Tags: Fluff, Mentions of Nudes, sexual talk, horror movie references

Characters: Aether, Dewdrop, Mountain

(Divider by @ wrathofrats ! Dew is going insane™ & has a thing for slashers.)

"Are you done yet?"

Dew kept his eyes to his phone screen, laying on his side in the empty bed. The sound of the fan running and the low volume of one of his favorite game show that quickly became something he didn't want being the only sound in the room, whining as he looked at his message still as 'delivered.'

He gasped with a smile when it went to 'read' and little bubbles under "Big Bitch" began to type.

"No, love. Still three hours left, just like what I said a few minutes ago. :("

The fire ghoul frowned again, whining and kicking his feet against the bed. "Just say you want a divorce already."

"Never!" Aether quickly responded, sending an array of broken heart emojis. "Is Mountain off yet?"

Dewdrop changed over the contact, rapidly typing against his keyboard to "Big Bitch#2" sticking his tongue out as he pressed send.

"Done yet?"

This time it took longer, Dew growing more impatient before bubbles appeared again.

"Unfortunately not, sweetheart. I still have the kitchen delivery to assist with, my rosemary. Our distance will be closed in another hour or two."

Out of all the time Mountain had a cute way of texting, Dew was currently hating it. He swapped back over to Aether, eyebrows furrowed.

"He's not! Teddy, I'm about to lose my fucking mind. I can only jerk off so many times and watch The Price Is Right reruns before my head explodes."

"And you didn't show me? The betrayal..."

"Do you want some? Will that make you come home quicker?"

Aether typed for a moment, then stopped. Dew was already in the process of clearing the bed when a new message appeared.

"I wish, but I can't be walking around the ICU with a stiffy because my cutie keeps sending me pics! Not very professional is it?"

"Fuck professionalism... I miss you. I miss treetop."

"Oh my poor baby, I know. Tell you what, why don't you get a movie night ready for us? Your choice tonight. <3"

"Can it be—" Before Dewdrop could even finish typing, Aether sent another quick message.

"And yes, it can be erotic horror. :⁠-⁠D"

"I'm going to suck your dick so hard tonight."

"There went my professionalism. I love you, I have to go now. Behave!"

Dewdrop sent his own array of heart emojis, flopping down in the bed and sighing. His tail flicked around before he rolled onto his stomach, groaning and kicking his feet once more like a kit. He hated being stuck in the den by himself. Sure, it was a rarity most would enjoy but Dewdrop personally despised the silence. He felt off, nothing to do, no one to keep in line, nothing needing fixing. He was restless.

He slowly sat up, adjusting Mountain's shirt on him as he shuffled around in his socks, completely nude beneath. Dew exited his room and made his way to the common room, flopping on the couch just for a change of scenery that didn't last long. He got up after a few minutes and began to pace around, ears pinned back in irritation.

Moving to the kitchen this time, he opened the fridge, grimacing as nothing looked interesting. He closed it, waited, then opened again.

"Fucking sardines again..." He mumbled, eyeing Rain's stack in the far back corner. "...And apple juice. Always... The apple juice."

The door shut again, Dew opening the pantry and pulling out the popcorn bowl, setting a few packets inside for later reminder. While he stood with the door open, his tail stood up in curiosity as he reached forwards and pulled out a small can that read as cranberry sauce. He's personally never had it, the look and smell deterring him from asking for a bite every time Cirrus and Cumulus dug into it.

Curiosity was a bitch when you're bored, however.

He brought the can to the countertop, placing it underneath the can opener and connecting the magnet down, watching as it twirled and carefully plucking it off when finished. Dewdrop leaned down and sniffed, instantly retracting with a gag, coughing into his arm. He was too invested to back out now! He pulled a spoon out, carefully digging into the jelly and pulling out a bit of the prune-looking food.

Hesitantly, Dew brought the food to his mouth and closed around it, chewing the strangely mushy texture but humming and tail wagging as the taste still settled nicely. He swallowed and grabbed another spoonful before gagging at the aftertaste, quickling going to the fridge to grab out one of the many apple juice boxes he despised seeing sometimes.

Only to gag again as the mixture being the worst thing to mankind.

Before he knew it, he was in a loop of torturing himself. Taking a bite, then a sip, making a cringed face as he did so—but he truly couldn't seem to stop, until eventually the mixture became tolerable. He walked around with his can and juice box back into the room, placing them on the bedstand as he went to the dresser that held a variety of movies. Dewdrop had to crouch to get to his section, carefully reading over each sleeve.

"My Bloody Valentine" simply called his name, pulling out the sleeve and purring loudly as he admired the back.

Dew skipped to his bed, grabbing the phone to send to a group chat with two of his older mates, purrs never seeming to cease as he sent a photo of the cover.

"Mounty, you still need to dress up as him for me one day."

It took a few minutes before only Mountain seen the message, adding a heart to both the photo and add-on.

"Eventually. Are we reenacting Irene's death?"

"You turn me on so easily. Fuck yeah we are! Get a pickaxe, I'm sure we have a random ass miners helmet somewhere in this fuck ass abbey."

A simple heart was added to the message again, Mountain sending a smiling face before going quiet once more. Dewdrop went back over to place the film on the TV stand next to the DVD player, opening his closet and to the back of the hangers where a small assortment of 'outfits' stayed in nice condition. He pushed past a maid outfit, a simple bikini, then a few larger outfits such as a 'mad doctor', 'Jason Voorhees', and even a full black outfit with a ski mask tucked in the pocket. He eyed the 'Michael Myers' all the way in the back before tugging at the jumpsuit, admiring the sides and pulling it out to be a part of Mountain's eventual costume.

He quickly became occupied as he picked up his cranberry can and juice to sit on the floor in front of their toy box, shuffling through different varieties of bdsm gear. Dewdrop trilled as he pulled out his black leather cuffs customized only for his wrists, tossing it in his pile for the future remake.

His phone chimed about thirty minutes in as Dewdrop came back from Mountain's room holding one of his compression turtle necks. He unlocked and smiled at Aether's message.

"Who's playing the bastard trucker? Not it."

Dew sent back a quick text, "No one. Maybe two killers tackling a little ole' me, yeah?"

"Scandalous!"

"Speaking of scandalous..."

Dewdrop brought his camera up again to show his little collection growing, Mountain and Aether seeing it at the same time.

"Damn! I knew I should've gotten my own jumpsuit!" Aether sent back, adding a smirking face.

Mountain, again, simply hearted the image.

The group chat went quiet and Dew went back to occupying himself, now with a newfound excitement. He took another bite of his terrible food and a sip of the equally terrible drink, scrunching his nose as he kept walking back and forth from Mountain's room with more items.

More than two hours passed before Dewdrop finally noticed the lack of the earth ghoul, walking back to see he missed a message of Mountain doing a few more tasks before retiring to the den. Dew shrugged and went to begin the assortment of snacks for the night, placing them all neatly on a tray with a few sodas and tea bags. He'd have to put the kettle on closer to movie time, getting the popcorn started while taking the tray in their shared room.

The sound of the door opening made Dew peek behind the corner, smiling wide and jumping with excitement as he looked at his two mates walking in—carrying a few suspiciously looking items. More importantly, two gas masks and another jumpsuit.

Aether smiled, holding up the goodies. "Look what was in the catacombs storage! Not exactly respirators, but close enough! Oh, oh! And I got some gloves from the infirmary!"

Dewdrop squealed, running over and noticing as Mountain lifted a bag out of reach but crouching down to join the hug. "Ugh! I missed you assholes!"

"Missed you too, rosemary." Mountain hummed, kissing Dew's cheek. "Look what I found in the shed."

He opened the bag to show two relatively new garden hoes. "Not exactly pickaxes, but close enough, yeah?"

"Mountain I'm about to jump on you." Dew's eyes lit up, his tail unable to stop wagging and smile wide.

"Hmm, can do that in a bit. That popcorn smells fucking good," Aether leaned for his own kiss, heading towards the room. "Gonna take my shower!"

"Me as well, I'm pretty sure I have cactus needles in my knee." The earth shrugged, giving one more kiss before he sauntered off.

The fire ghoul melted at the sight of his mates, let alone the fact they went into the effort to find little items to fulfill his fantasy. He shivered at the thought of them masked and standing above him, putting a pep back in Dewdrop's step as he went to finish the popcorn.

[lillyorlyracat]

Revamped intro post

What's up sweet bippies it's me autism cat

My name is Lilly, or Lyra, or Lilac, or Cat, or April, or Scarlet. I am audhd(autistic and ADHD), I'm fictionkin, I have a shit ton of interests so my posts will be varied and inconsistent (if you only follow me for one fandom that's still cool idc)

Sometimes I'll post my art, sometimes I'll just yell into my keyboard and wait for people to press buttons on it. Mostly I just reblog posts I like, sorry folks

Update: decided to make an art tag! Just to organize stuff :P it'll be #🐱drawn by yours truly

Also, about that fictionkin thing? Yeah so I'm Ember Lumen from Elemental in the realz. I don't have any source memories or anything but I'm 100% her :P 🔥

Update (1/4/24): I'm also Ruby Gillman Teenage Kraken in the realz!! Again no source mems as far as I can tell, but my mom irl is definitely also Agatha in the movie >u< 🌊

Update 2 (8/3/24): Aaaaaand I'm Poppy from Trolls in the realz!!! Same thing as the other ones, no mems no nothing like that, BUUUUUUUUT I'm dating Branch :D or well- my bf isn't fictionkin Branch irl but he does kin him and remind me SO MUCH of him so I'm counting it!!! 🎆

F/O list here ⬇️⬇️

Dni list & boundaries uwu

Pro_sh/ppers/com_sh/ppers/pro_f/c etc bitches please don't interact, just, please,,

No z00ph+les either get outta here

I am a minor so please don't like,, be weird,,, or anything (UPDATE: technically I am no longer a minor but this still applies)

Homophobes, transphobes, xeno/neophobes etc get outta here

OH ABLEISTS! YEAH YOU GUYS GTFO TOO, I AINT DISEASED >:D

Aggressive anti furries.. like. People who think furry = z00ph+le.. get outta here you’re not welcome ^^

Please don't dm me with like "hey wanna be friends" or anything like that out of nowhere.. if you wanna be friends with me, try asking about common interests maybe? Idk? I'm cool with making friends, that's just,, not the way to do it,,, y'know

Doubles are awesome, other Elemental kinnies are super cool! Buuuut if any Wades have like romantic Ember memories maaaybe don't interact? I already have a bf, and although I'm poly I'm uncomfortable with the idea of another partner right now. I'll be friends with a Wade tho, hi friend Wades 👋🔥

Ruby update: doubles are okay here too! But no Connors with romantic mems please. I...don't feel very romantically connected to Connor tbh. I'll be friends with y'all tho! Hi Connors!! 👋💦

Poppy update: Trolls kinnies of all kind PLEASE INTERACT PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE!!!!! Especially Cooper, Smidge, Viva, Guy & Tiny Diamond, Bridget, aaaand anyone else I'd really love to make some source friends 👋🪷

I'll uh update this periodically cuz I'm probably forgetting a lot

Links to my other socials!

Youtube ⬇️

Instagram ⬇️

AO3 ⬇️

Picsart ⬇️

"You might think that this is the end...

Well it is!"

[alternative-controls-project]

VR

What is a Makey Makey? A makey makey is a kit that is made to connect everyday thing to a keyboard using basic electrical thing like crocodile clips USB cables to capture the key or mouse click. One example that I can name is using tin foil pads to play directional musical games.

The definition of VR is virtual reality and goal of it is to make something so realistic that it feels like you are either doing that playing or either there. VR has more practical application like teaching people how to thing like when I visited the XR lab in Suffolk university I Virtually disassembled a frog.

The most common use for VR is for gaming as having a VR headset and motion track controllers is that there are no animations for things so it gives the player more control over what they are doing for example blade and sorcery there are no animation for the army just where controllers are going.

Another popular VR game is beat saber in beat saber the goal to cut as many direction boxes as you can before the song ends. The player has compete control over the sword and can move them how every they like, the game also lets the player can also get other swords so they can be like darth maul if they want to.

Pavlov is first person shooter VR game that allows the player to shoot guns in single player and multi player games. The game forces the player to look thought the sights in the game in order to be able to shoot accurately, the game also registers the height of the player like in player gets low to the ground the game counts it as the player crouching.

Beamng drive is not a VR focused game but the game has VR support and allows the player to realistically drive cars and look around on the inside and if the player crashes the car will realistically take damage. (the game is better with a steering wheel).

Gorilla Tag is VR game that lets players swing around like gorillas and tag each other. The game spits the players up with some players that have to tag all of the blue gorillas, the game allows the players to move there arms around and grab and grip onto things.

What are motion controls

Games use motion controls to make games feel more immersive, more realistic and more fun there are levels to this like VR pretty much relies on motion controllers where as the Wii has games that don't require it and the same with the Nintendo switch not always requiring motion controls on all games.

The Wii features motion controller for the console as mostly every game that has been on the Wii has motion features like call of duty world war for the Wii had features that required player to the remotes in a way that replicated what would somewhat have to happen in real scenario.

The Nintendo switch also uses motion controls in there games for example they motion controls in there game The cube the motion is combined with buttons to make the game function.

VR games use motion controls very heavily in games as all the games require motion controllers and every VR game uses them as that is their main form of control, however games use the controllers very differently.

Retro controllers

The Nintendo 64 controller has some distinction features like the big part that runs down the middle and the main joystick being located their. The controller has 7 buttons that the player can press and one joy stick and a directional pad. Over all the controller looks comfortable as it has a somewhat modern look and has been used as a bases for some of modern controllers like Nintendo switch controller. The controller has the unique design of the triangle in the middle.

Hyperkin Sega Genesis Controller has some distinction features like the very simple shape. The controller has 6 buttons and one directional pad. The controller looks comfortable as the controller is very simple and comfortable. The controller is unique as it has a simple shape and size for the hands.

8Bitdo NES30 Pro the a very distinctive shape as like a oval and has 4 buttons and 2 joysticks and one directional pad. The controller is very comfortable as it is very small and the buttons are easy to reach. The controller is made unique by it's size and where the buttons are located.

PS one controller has a distinctive shape as it has two part that sits I the hands perfectly. The controller has ten buttons are located in a comfortable place at the top and a easy to reach from the thumb.

Mobile platform games

Doodle jump is 2D platformer where the player is tasked with getting as far as they can and setting the highest score. The game has simple gyro controls allowing the player to tilt the their device left and right to control and the only use of the screen is tapping to shoot down enemies. The game is made unique by this simple form of control and the simplicity of the gyro controls. I like the idea of having a score based system where the the game ends when the player dies it show the highest score.

jet pack joyride is a 2d platformer/endless runner. The controls are press and hold to make the character move up and down. This game is made unique by the concept that it is based of a man is messed over by a company is steels their mini gun jet pack and takes it for a joyride. I would like to use a score system similar to this and the endless ness from it.

Jonny trigger is 2D platformer with a few twists like the only controls are tapping and holding to fire when the shot is lined up. The game does have paid for elements like cosmetics and monthly subscriptions. This game is unique by the way the game works because no matter what the character does not stop. I can possibly use the fact that the character does not stop.

Dead Cells is a 2D platformer that has a complete touch controls system that allows the player to control the character and all of the moves the character can make. The games is made unique by the boss fights as the player all the control of how the character moves.

Super Mario Run is very popular 2D platformer with simple touch and hold controls. The game has some paid for DLC's that the player can purchase for more levels. The game is unique as the game is super Mario simplified for other types of controls and players to play.

[z3nitsusgf]

Haii!! :D uh- i’m not used to asking for stuff like this- but can i have kenma with an overstimulation, degrading and cock warming>///<

I love imagining sitting on kenma’s lap while he’s streaming, then Y/N starts teasing him so Kenma rails them while playing or at least trying to play

i’m an absolute kenma simp and i’ve read all the stuff i can find :(

If this makes you uncomfortable in any way you don’t have to do this!! I’d feel really bad T^T

Sorry sorry I probably said too much, have fun writing!!! Remember to stay hydrated :D

Yes of course, baby!! You did great, no worries it was perfect <3 and it doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all! If you wanna know my rules check out the Navi page for “no shoes, no shirt, no service” that’ll tell you what I’m comfy with and not.

Kenma x mreader ( 𝙥𝙩. 𝙩𝙬𝙤 )

Warnings: cockwarming, overstim, degradation, exhibitionism (he makes you sit on his dick on stream), amab reader and he/him pronouns, little bit of mean Kenma

Tags: @diamond-3

“Stay still. Unless you want me to fuck you like a whore in front of everyone.”

It’s whispered into your ear, tone laced with an edge that makes it hard for you to stifle a whine. You can see yourself in the tiny window on his monitor screen. All cozied up on the gamers lap like a sweet boy, wearing his hoodie with your head tucked in his neck.

To the viewers, it simply looks like he’s whispering sweet nothings to his lover. And he keeps it up with a small barely-there smile and a kiss to the cheek, as if he didn’t just threaten to expose your ass being stuffed to thousands of people.

It’s hard to see the way he’s got you sat on his cock, gummy walls pulping around his length as he smashes the keyboard with lithe fingers. The darkness of the room only illuminated by his LED lights that flicker neon colors around his desk. They can’t see that below the camera your thighs are sticking to his shorts as you drip down his lap, and that he’s deep and throbbing inside you so much that it aches a bit. Dick bobbing along your navel as you close your eyes and focus on not moaning out.

Kozume streams for hours on end - this you know and yet, decided to sneak into his game room and slip on his lap before he started the stream, whining you were bored. Playing with strands oh his hair and mouthing at his neck, tugging at his strings until he sighed and pulled you onto him. He’d warned you before, poke the tiger and you get mauled. And so he let you shimmy his cock from his briefs, let you sit on his cock and clamp around his length as you moaned on his desk.

But instead of grabbing your hips and thrusting into you - he simply told you to “Be good for once and try not to act like a desperate slut.” Wrapped an arm around your waist and hauled you up, and pressed that square red button that let him go live to all his fans. And the mortification of being speared on his cock in front of thousands of unsuspecting people made you hard beyond belief.

With his big headphones on his ears, and his streaky blonde hair tied back from his face you could do nothing but wait. Feeling the slow burn on your inevitable orgasm creep up on you, and it was worse when he shifted in his chair, lifting his hips up to scoot forward or back, his cock would move an inch and yet it felt like he’d slam home. Rubbing against that spot inside you as you swear the room blurs and the lights bleed together. He’s doing it on purpose, you know that and so does he.

You don’t know how he was so good at keeping a poker face, mouth set in a straight line as he focused whole heartedly on the game before him - what was it? You can’t remember even though it’s right in front of your face, not when your tummy spasms and you curl your face into his neck as you cum as quietly as you can on his lap. Spurting small rivulets onto your thigh as you twitch on top of him.

And Kenma cums too when he feels you clench so tightly around his cock that he looses, game displaying the characteristic GAME OVER, and he’s clicking his teeth. He feels you shudder under him, and he’s giving you a sideways glance. You fucked up.

“Aw, ‘r ya tired?” He coos down at your face still smushed against his neck, kissing your temple as if he’s not subtly reaching a hand down to swipe at the head of you cock, pressing two fingers to the head and rubbing the traces of your cum over the slit, dragging your bliss out even longer. Your cheeks are hot he notes, sweat beading along your hairline as you subtly pant against his skin. He’ll admit, you’re doing so good not to scream when he squeezes just a tad on the head, only letting out a lone tear as you tremble on top of him. Kozume lifting a brow as he reads the chat, amused little smile on his face as the comments flood the screen.

| you guys are adorable |

| hes so cute <3 |

| man whatd I give to have someone like that on my lap while I play :( |

| is he good ? |

The last one makes Kozume chuckle, tilting his head down to rest his chin on your head. “Yeah, yeah he’s alright, aren’t ya baby?” He says, daring you to make a scene. You inhale a shakey breath before lifting your head to the screen, faint pulses of the aftershocks still coursing through your lower half. Cock twitchy as you feel him grip it in his wet fist. “M’alright, just feel a little tired” you hum, not trusting yourself to say anything more. The chat giving their sympathies, tellin’ you they don’t mind you sitting there n’ napping on their favorite steamer.

All the while you’re trying not to hump the air as you’re stretched on his lap and he’s circling your sticky cock with deft laziness. It’s buzzing, tummy clenching and unclenching as he doesn’t give you mercy. Taking a small break and telling the chat he’d be right back, pausing the stream so he can really focus on you. You nod, turning your head to whimper to your boyfriend, “hurts, Kenma please n’ more.” And Kenma is uncharacteristically soft when he wraps both arms around your waist and mumbles, “too bad, stay right on my cock until the end of the stream. I don’t care if it hurts, you asked for this.”

You would cry if you could. God at least if he would just pound a little hard, but de doesn’t - just smacks your thigh and tells you to “wait, be good. Or I’ll make sure everyone sees what a needy little cumdump you are.” And starts the stream back up.

Focused on not making a scene as he keeps you there. Plugged and full on his length as he plays and chats, bumping his legs against your yours and swirling you down by your hips when he feels frustrated. Makes you talk to other people and other steamers when they come on later, not giving you a chance to come down or back out. By the end of the stream you’ve come too many times to count, borderline drooling on his chest and when he ends the stream with a wave. You let out a long drawn out moan.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” He tells you, sliding his hands under your his hoodie and gripping your chest, tweaking your nipples as you squirm on his cock. Hole raw and achey, his inner thighs are drenched and he’s already cum more than once inside you, leaking making you spill down his balls and onto his chair. “Please- Kenma, n’more I can’t,” You whine, and he’s giving you a hard pinch and buck of his hips.

“I think you can handle a bit more.” He coos, and the your eyes roll back at him spreading your thighs out more. Tears welling when he tells you, “Besides I still have to fuck you don’t I? My needy baby always wants more.”

[sungbeam]

Hii so sorry for bothering you but, I love writing I’ve been doing it for a long time. I’d like to post on tumblr but I’m kinda new to it and don’t really know how to use it (gifs, text colors,…) so if it’s okay for you could you maybe teach me how to use it or give me some tips?

HELLO HELLO!!! omg i'm so flattered PLS TT but that's so great to hear that u want to start posting here and join the community!! :D i'll try to make a comprehensive, basic guide, but i'm def not the best with the technical things like color gradients and the like 😅 so if u wanted to explore about that, there r a lot of other blogs here who can show u!

besides that, i'll put below the cut my two cents, and anyone can feel free to add if i forgot anything!:

1. gifs! i'm gonna say right off the bat that i don't use gifs a lot, if not, at all. but there r a lot of gifs on tumblr that u can find and use!! usually if u search up the thing u want a gif of, u could probably find it, but pls remember to credit someone if u use their gif!! and if they ask u to like/rb their post if u save it, then pls respect that as well!!

2. text colors: ngl, they're really sparse and a little ugly 😅😅 at least the ones tumblr provides, so a lot of people either just stick to the plain text color or they go on desktop and do the fancy custom coloring w hex numbers and things. i really don't know how to do that (?) but again, if u ever want to learn, i can point u to someone who can show u! but at some points, i do like using the text colors one at a time to make things stand out more against the plain text! to use the colors, just select the text accordingly and u can press a color or press it again to undo it

that's what it looks like on my end! ^

3. text fonts: personally, tumblr's method of doing this is really annoying sjxbksnfh but you can change the font of an entire paragraph without selecting it. the font button is the "Aa" in the left corner above ur keyboard. u essentially have to just click thru until u figure out which one you'd like depending on the aesthetic ur going for! a lot of people ik here just use this regular text in the three different sizes, or they go to like,, copy paste generators online and find a font they like their instead! i do use those frequently, so lmk if you'd like the link to the one i use!

4. tags: one of the most important ways to get ur works out into the world esp when ur just starting off is thru the tags! to tag ur fic, it's the hashtag symbol to the right above ur keyboard. u wanna use tags that pertain to ur fic, so try avoiding tagging ur fic w things its not (like if it's angst, don't put fluff). some common things i tag my fics w are "(group/idol) x reader" "(group/idol) drabbles" "(group/idol) social media au" etc. and usually if it's a pretty known/used tag, it'll appear while ur typing it in as well!

5. navigation menus: writers here usually have a pinned post or a post w a link to a "navigation" post or masterlist! i have my navi pinned, but it essentially is a central place where i link everything that i'd like people to see or things readers/other writers would want to find! things that include: masterlists, about me, faqs, recently posted works, etc!

6. fic formatting: it's unfortunate, but a lot of readers r put off by some types of formatting, which is why a lot of people stick to plain text color and plain text font. usually, u wanna include the title, the idol pairing, word count, genre, and any warnings abt the fic. none of these r required, ofc, but i recommend it! and most people do prefer that if ur fic is over 500 words, that u should out a "keep reading" bar after a paragraph or two! a keep reading bar is like the one i used at the beginning of this post, and u just go to a new line and type ":readmore:" and press enter, and it'll form for u! some people use pictures as a little border as well btwn their intro section and the actual fic.

if u have additional questions, feel free to send in another ask or thru dms and i can walk u thru any of this!

i'm sure i'm missing other important things haha but when in doubt, take inspo from all the other creators around u! pls do remember to reblog people's fics when u read them tho — that's one if the most important things!

(just thought of this and adding, but try to avoid writing directly onto tumblr TT usually i do it on google docs first and copy-paste it onto here to do formatting! tumblr likes to delete things out of pocket sometimes so 💀)

[thebookreader12345]

Two Becomes Three

Pairing: Jay Halstead x reader

Summary: Christmas comes around, and Jay doesn’t think anything of it, but Y/N has a huge surprise for him that will change his life

Requested: Yes, by @lma1986

Warnings: slight descriptions of sex, mentions of pregnancy

Word Count: 1,417 Words

I remembered that night like it was yesterday. Jay and I had just gotten back from a party, and as soon as we got home, clothes had been taken off. I remembered his lips grazing against my skin. His hands roaming my body. The way his breath had the faint smell of alcohol. I even remembered the way I moaned out his name, and how he reacted by smirking down at me. Like I said, it was like it was yesterday, except it was 2 months ago.

I placed my hand against the window pane as I stared out the glass, taking in the weather outside. It was going to be a white Christmas this year because today was Christmas Eve, and the snow was falling at a decent rate. My eyes scanned the buildings across the street, seeing snow piled on the rooftops and on window ledges, and I smiled. Christmas had always been one of my favorite times of the year. That’s when an arm slipped around my waist, and I was suddenly in the warming embrace of my husband.

“Good morning,” Jay murmured and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

“Morning,” I reply and continue to stare out the window.

“What are you doing up so early?” Jay asked me.

I shrugged. “It’s just one of those days. You want me to make you something for breakfast?”

“I think I’m good with coffee,” Jay answered.

“Well, a fresh pot is waiting for you,” I tell him.

Jay chuckled softly and pressed a chaste kiss to my cheek. “You’re the best. So, what time is everyone coming over today?”

“The party starts at 5,” I say. “So please make sure you’re ready by then.”

“I will be. I promise,” Jay spoke and exited the bedroom.

“I’ve actually got to go run an errand, but I’ll be back later,” I announce to Jay from the bedroom where I was changing into some clothes.

“An errand this early in the morning?” Jay questioned.

“Maybe it’s something I’ve got to do for tonight. I’ll be back in a bit,” I state and emerge from the bedroom in a pair of jeans and a long sleeved, gray, fuzzy sweatshirt.

“All right. See you later,” Jay said and pecked my lips. After I pulled on my boots and a coat, and grabbed my things, I left the apartment and headed out front where my car was waiting. I climbed into the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition, and started the engine. It didn’t take long for me to get to Chicago Med, and when I walked into the ED, Will was waiting for me.

“Jay didn’t get suspicious and follow you, did he?” Will asked.

“No. I’m here alone,” I respond.

“Great. Follow me,” Will ordered and led me into one of the empty trauma rooms. The ED was practically empty today, which was weird seeing as it was Christmas Eve. Once I was inside of the room, I laid down on one of the beds as Will got the ultrasound ready. The gel was cold against my stomach, and I flinched a bit, but it didn’t bother me too much. “And here we are. You’re 2 months along,” Will said and pointed to the monitor which showed a small baby, which would soon start growing.

“I can’t believe we’ve been keeping this a secret from Jay and everyone else for the past week,” I tell Will. “I’m just excited for everyone to find out.”

Will smiled. “Jay’s going to freak out. I know because I’m freaking out, and I’m only the uncle.”

“Okay. I’ve got to get back to the apartment before Jay tracks me down. Can you print this out for me?” I ask.

“For sure,” Will replied and clicked a button on the keyboard, which printed out the small picture. I thanked Will and put the picture in my purse before giving him a hug.

“I’ll see you later, right?” I question.

“Yeah. I’ll see you tonight,” Will said. Back at home, I found Jay lounging on the couch watching TV in the dark.

“Hey babe,” Jay greeted.

“Hey. Why are you sitting in the dark? Turn on the Christmas lights or something,” I suggest and shrug off my coat.

Jay shrugged. “So where’d you have to go?”

“None of your business,” I tell him playfully and pull my boots off of my feet. “You’ll find out later.”

“Well you saying that just makes me want to know even more,” Jay pointed out as I flopped down onto the couch next to him.

“You’re not going to figure it out, and I’m not going to tell you, so you’ve just got to wait. Now, I am freezing cold from being outside, and I want to cuddle,” I say and hold out my arms. Jay laughed, but pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me. The warmth from his body spread to mine, and soon I was already starting to warm up. It was hard knowing that our family would be going from two to three, and not being able to tell Jay yet, but he would find out tonight, and I couldn’t wait.

............................................

“No way. You’re lying,” Adam spoke as we all lounged around the living room. I was sitting on Jay’s lap in the arm chair, Adam and Kim were snuggled up on one end of the couch with Kevin on the other, and Will and Hailey were sitting on the soft, carpeted floor.

“I’m not. Y/N got out of the car, and right as her foot touched the ground, she slipped,” Jay said, causing everyone to laugh.

“Jay, maybe I should tell them about that one time at my parents’ house when-” 

Jay cut me off. “No. Do not talk about that. We agreed to never bring it up.”

“Well now I’ve got to hear it,” Hailey commented.

“I’ll tell you later,” I mouthed to her when Jay wasn’t looking.

“All right. Who wants some eggnog?” Jay questioned and tapped on my elbow to get me to get up for a second.

“Me,” everyone chanted, except for me.

“Y/N, do you want some?” Jay asked me.

“No thanks. I’m good,” I reply and perch on the arm of the chair.

“Are you sure? I know how much you love eggnog,” Jay disclosed.

“I’m okay,” I tell him. The reason I was declining eggnog was because it contained alcohol, and I was pregnant, so I couldn’t have alcohol. Jay, however, didn’t know that yet. After everyone had gotten their glasses of eggnog, they returned to their seats and we continued talking. Soon though, it was time for me to tell Jay about the surprise. I headed into the bedroom and grabbed the small, wrapped box from the back of the closet where I had hidden it earlier. Then, I made my way back into the living room and extended the present towards Jay.

“What’s this?” Jay asked me and took the box from my hands.

“The surprise I was telling you about earlier. I figured everyone else would want to see it too, hence the reason I waited until the party. Will and I have had this planned since last week, so please don’t make us wait any longer and open it,” I exclaim. Jay unwrapped the box and took off the lid before peaking inside.

“Are you serious?” Jay asked me, his voice laced with happiness.

“What’s in the box?” Kevin questioned. Jay reached into the box and pulled out a pair of baby shoes, which were designed to look like police cars, followed by the ultrasound picture I had gotten printed out this morning. A huge smile broke out on Jay’s face, and he set the box down before standing up to give me a hug.

“So, let me get this straight,” Jay spoke. “My brother knew that you were pregnant before I did?”

“Yes, and I was dying to tell you, but Y/N wanted me to keep it a secret,” Will responded.

“I’m so happy for you guys,” Kim confessed and gave me a hug. “It’s about time we had a baby join the Intelligence family.”

“Well, you’ll all have to wait about 7 months to meet him or her, but I’m sure it’ll be worth the wait,” I respond. “Merry Christmas, Jay.”

“Merry Christmas,” Jay murmured and pulled me in for another hug. “And thank you for making this the best Christmas ever.”

________________________

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13​ @dreamingmanip @campingmonkey @winterberryfox @nevertoofarfromivar @anotherfan07 @giagma @mrspeacem1nusone @i-like-sparkly-things

[cafedanslanuit]

[ k i n k t o b e r ]  d a y   12    -   masterlist

↪ character: jumin han [mystic messenger]

↪ tags/warnings: +18, female!reader, cam girl, videocall sex, mutual masturbation, porn with plot.

↪ a/n: the way i intended this to be short and turn out to be a full story lol. still, i really liked this and i can picture going back to this scenario again <3

Pop-up ads were Jumin Han’s worst nightmare.

No matter how many fancy antivirus the tech department installed on his laptop, he always managed to click somewhere he wasn’t supposed to and next thing he knew, there was a picture of an erect penis on his screen.

It usually didn’t irritate him as much, but that day he had to stay up working on a project and now he was stuck in a website he couldn’t close, no matter how many times he clicked the small “x”. He had called someone from the tech department and solicited a new laptop. It was going to take around thirty minutes for it to arrive. He poured himself a glass of wine and looked disgusted at his screen, where a blonde woman was playing with her breasts in front of the camera, that said “Live”.

Once again, he tried to close the window, but instead opened a new one instead, making him roll his eyes backwards in exasperation. When he looked at the screen again, he saw a young woman with long brown hair and big eyes looking at the screen with a small smile. It felt like she was looking right into her eyes, and he covered the camera on his laptop for a second just to make sure she wasn’t. She was wearing a white baby doll while kneeling on her bed, her bare thighs looking incredibly soft and alluring. She wasn’t touching herself but rather playing with her hair and giggling once in a while after looking at her screen. Jumin’s eyes darted to the right, where he saw comments from anonymous people appearing by the second.

As she read them, she propped up her thigh, making Jumin blush instantly. He couldn’t see her underwear, but the innocent way she had moved as if she hadn’t figured out she was showing more skin made his head spin.

His security guard knocking on his door made him come back to reality. His new laptop was probably back. Jumin quickly noted down the name of the user and the name of the website that had appeared in front of him before opening the door and taking his new laptop to finish up his work.

Watching her became a regular thing he did right before he went to bed. After a quick research he had understood what was the purpose with what the internet called cam girls, but the girl he had become so obsessed with didn’t meet all the criteria. For example, he hadn’t seen her naked once, every time she wore lingerie that covered from her breasts to her bottom. She usually just chatted with the people that left comments and sometimes would show off the clothes she was wearing. Jumin felt embarrassed at the tent that formed in his pants after she turned around to show off a cat lingerie that had a tail attached to it.

Two weeks after his discovery, he found himself again watching her. She was wearing a black lingerie set and was kneeling on her bed, a slightly distraught expression on her face.

“No, thankfully I’m okay,” she said, and her voice made Jumin’s heart flutter. “It just isn’t working anymore. A lot of smoke came out and I had to call a tow truck.”

He paid attention to the comments as they appeared and figured out it was about her car breaking down. She proceeded to explain how much she needed it to get to work and that she still didn’t have the money for it.

“So, if anyone can donate at least $5 I’d be really thankful,” she shrugged with a sheepish smile that didn’t match with the website he was watching her in.

For the first time ever, he moved his fingers to the keyboard and typed a message.

user18368: ‘How much does it take to fix your car?’

He watched her eyes go to her screen and read his comment.

“Oh, it’s about $2000. So yeah, I’m hoping I can get some here and then maybe sell some of my stuff, I don’t know,” she answered, fixing the strap on her bra.

The big golden ‘Donate’ button seemed to get bigger as he weighed his options. Jumin wasn’t an impulsive person, but seeing her sad face and the fact $2000 wasn’t a lot of money for him to begin with, he impulsively took out his credit card and filled out the form to send the money she needed.

The look of surprise on her face was enough for him to smile when she saw his donation appear on the screen. The cute way she covered her mouth with her hands as she bounced on the bed with glee was all Jumin needed to stop asking what the other people in the chat meant by calling him a ‘simp’. She thanked him, or well, she thanked user18368 for the donation and said she would call him later for his reward.

Reward?

Jumin’s eyes flickered to the stop of the screen where he saw the title of that day’s stream: ‘Emergency giveaway: 1 on 1 session! <3’.

Oh.

Not even five minutes after she finished the stream, he saw a small pop-up on the website that said ‘Sweetheart’ wanted to chat. Jumin swallowed thick and clicked on the ‘Accept’ button, not sure what he was doing. The girl appeared on his screen and waved at him, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on her face.

“Hey! Thanks again for the car money. I owe you my life,” she joked, bouncing a little on her bed. Jumin stayed silent. His camera and microphone were off, but she was still smiling at him, and unlike the previous times, she was smiling just at him. “Hey, you don’t have to turn on your camera if you’re uncomfortable, but maybe you could turn your mic on? I’m always nervous some kid got here and I’m corrupting a minor,” she explained with a giggle. Jumin pressed on the microphone button.

“Definitely not a child.”

The girl’s eyes widened a little at the sound of his voice, her cheeks blushing at the same time. She bit her lip and then put on a smile again.

“Okay, what would you like to do? Would you like me to do something you like?”

“No,” Jumin answered quickly. “No, I-- I honestly didn’t know there was a prize behind this. I just wanted to send you the money you needed because I’ve been watching you for a while and I wanted to help out.”

“Oh, for how long?” she asked, curiously.

“A couple of weeks,” he said, embarrassed. “If that’s okay.”

“It’s totally okay,” she assured him, smiling again just the way he was starting to fall for. “I don’t really do a lot of shows in public, but sometimes I agree to do other… stuff in private sessions like this,” she said, playing with her hands.

“Like what?” he asked, intrigued.

“Like… well, sometimes I tell them what I would like someone to do to me. Sometimes I play with myself a bit,” she said, her fingers stroking the hem of her cleavage. Jumin felt himself getting hard at every move she made. “Or I watch them touch themselves. But if you don’t want to turn on your camera it’s really okay. I can tell you what to do.”

“What to do?”

“Uh-huh,” she hummed. “For example, I’d like you to lower your pants right now and touch yourself over your underwear. That is, if you’re wearing any,” she added with a cheeky smile.

Jumin looked at his locked bedroom door, not sure what to do. He had never been one to enjoy these kinds of situations, but there was something about her that drew him to oblige to her every word. She was waiting for him patiently, her innocent face a sharp contrast to what she was asking him to do. Still, he started touching himself over his pajama bottoms, his cock twitching at the attention.

“Mmmm, are you by any chance a little hard?” her voice rang, making him look at the screen again.

“Yeah,” he muttered. Jimin felt dirty, he felt like someone was going to catch him doing something indecorous, but he also couldn’t stop himself from complying to her orders.

“I always take that as a compliment,” she smiled, sticking her tongue out playfully. “Can you touch yourself directly now?”

Jumin did as told, freeing his cock and starting to pump it. He let out a groan as he made contact with his erection and right when he was about to apologize, he saw her biting her lips.

“I like your voice,” she commented, playing with her black babydoll. Jumin kept pumping himself, feeling somewhat proud she was reacting to his voice as well. “Now, I don’t want any fast movements. Just slow, like this,” she said, moving her hand on the screen.

He imitated her hand movements with his own, imagining for a second she was there with him instead of behind a screen.

“Fuck,” he hissed. He wanted to go faster, but her hand was still moving slowly and he wouldn’t be the one to do anything but what she asked him to. He saw her biting his lip when he talked again.

“Okay. Now slowly circle your tip with your thumb. But softly, as if it was a small lick,” she winked. She waited for him to do as she said, his breathing becoming more ragged with every second that went by.

Jumin’s deep grunts were making her squirm on her seat. How could someone’s voice be that attractive? She wished he turned on his camera, but knew better than to pressure him to do so. Closing her eyes, her right hand travelled to her front, underneath her lingerie and started rubbing her clit. She let out a soft mewl, her middle finger drawing circles around her clit, making her see stars.

“Keep pumping yourself, a little faster now” she said, trying to ignore how much she was panting at her own ministrations. “But please, let me hear you more.”

With one hand, he brought his laptop closer to him, so she could listen to his voice better. Jumin was never one to do these things. He had been thought better, he knew the proper way to act with a lady, but… the way she was slightly bouncing on the bed as she touched herself had caused a short circuit inside his head.

“Keep going, keep going,” she whispered, a moan escaping her lips. She parted her legs and even if he couldn’t see anything, the sole sight of her hand rubbing against her while her face was contorted in pure pleasure was enough to send Jumin over the edge. He grunted as he did so, staining his stomach with his release, as his eyes were still glued on the screen.

She kept touching herself, the sound of Jumin’s orgasm obviously affecting her, as her back arched as she kept her hand moving rapidly.

A dark idea crossed Jumin’s mind as he saw her getting closer, an idea he might not have acted on unless he was sure she couldn’t see him, like in that moment.

“Keep going,” Jumin instructed her, his voice a bit hoarse as he was just coming back to his senses. She opened the eyes and looked at the screen, her cheeks bright red, and nodded. In a matter of seconds, she was orgasming in front of him, and Jumin thought he had never seen a woman more beautiful than her. Even as she broke down, her face looked pristine, innocent, and the way she hadn’t even undressed herself or seen him for her to come undone was making his head spin.

She inhaled deeply as she tried to regulate her breathing, a shy smile as she looked at the front camera.

“Sorry, I-- Your voice is just… really hot,” she muttered, looking down at her hands.

“It's okay. You’re very enticing yourself,” he replied, wishing he was able to pull her on his lap and hold her close after sharing such a moment. 

She thanked him again for the money and he shrugged it off. The little wave she did to him as she said goodbye stayed on his mind for the rest of the week.

---

It was like everyone he met knew what he had done one week ago. Jumin knew they didn’t, but that didn’t help from feeling stressed whenever someone looked at him for a second longer than needed. The girl with the long brown hair and big eyes was living on his mind, twisting and twirling the red strings he had there, only managing him to confuse him even more. He had avoided her stream the last few days, wanting to desintoxicate himself, but quickly learnt it wasn’t possible.

“We’re here,” Jaehee said, as Driver Kim stopped the car. It was supposed to be a short balance meeting after the last RFA party, and taking into consideration everyone’s schedules, they had agreed to meet at a cafe downtown. Jaehee had assured everyone the meeting shouldn’t be longer than half an hour, but that their presence was necessary as she needed everyone to sign some documentation for the donations.

When he entered the coffee shop with Jaehee, he saw Saeyoung, Zen and Yoosung were already there. After muttering ‘good afternoon’, she sat on his seat and watched idly as Saeyoung was teasing Yoosung over something he didn’t quite hear.

“Now that the CEO-in-line is here, we can finally order,” Zen said, rolling his eyes at him. Jumin ignored him, not having the energy to respond to that. The actor called over one of the waitressed, who quickly approached their table.

“Hi! Are you ready to order now?” she asked in a cheerful tone.

Jumin didn’t even have to look up to know whose voice he had just heard.

[mollygetssherlockcoffee]

Get The Picture

Pairing: Spencer x fem!reader

Summary: (PADS, part 3) Nathan just won’t take ‘No’ for an answer

Warning: Disrespectful male who needs a brush up on consent and harassment... little fluff?

Words: 1209

A/N: I wrote Part three! I couldn’t wait. I changed the ending 3 times but I hope this is okay... Let me know if I should write anything else :D 

Part One HERE    Part Two HERE

Master List HERE

Your phone pinged with an alert. You swiped your thumb over the screen, unlocking the phone and opening the iMessage.

Nathan: Hey, Y/N, how’s it going? I was wondering what you’re up to, maybe we could meet up and grab some food or something?

  You let out a groan, dropping your phone into your lap and squeezing your hands into fists to stop yourself from throwing your phone across the room. This was the forth time Nathan asked you out for dinner. The first two times, he had worded it as ‘Would you like to go on a date?’ and ‘How about I take you on a date?’ before changing to asking if you wanted to ‘grab some food’. When he had first asked you, you had told him outright that you were not interested in dating him. You were many things, but you were not a woman who led people on. However, it was clear from the next two dinner invitations, and now this one, that he wasn’t accepting no as an answer.

 “What wrong?” Spencer asked, looking away from the TV where the Doctor Who episode ‘Turn Left’ was playing.

You sighed, rubbing at your forehead. “You remember Nathan Paddock, from that case a few months back? And you remember me telling you he’d messaged me a few times? Well, he keeps asking me out. I’ve told him no, like, outright said I do not want to date him, but he’s not letting up.” “Y/N, that’s harassment. Put in a complaint with Hotch, you know he’d sort it out” he tells you, having taken your phone and glanced over the latest message.

“I don’t want to have to take it to Hotch. That’s like running to you dad at every little inconvenience” your nose scrunched up at the thought.

“Dad?” Spencer laughed, shaking his head at you. He was quiet for a moment before turning to you, “Text back this: ‘I’m really good thanks. Can’t hang out, we’re watching Doctor Who’. Those exact words.”

“Why that?” you questioned. You typed the message quickly, thumbs flying across the keyboard.

 The ‘Delivered’ soon turned to a ‘Seen’ before a new messaged popped up from Nathan.

 Nathan: We? Who’s we?

 “That’s why” Spencer said, having peeked over your shoulder to see the message. He turned in his spot, shifting so his back rested against the arm rest of the couch. He patted the space on the couch between his legs, “Come here, back against my chest and take a selfie.”

 You looked at him for a moment, your head tilted to the side and your eyebrows drawn in confusion. Then it hit you. Spencer had laid the trap perfectly, and Nathan had walked right into it. The positioning you’d be in would indicate that you appeared to be more than just friends with the BAU genius.

 It was a sad fact that men seem to respect a man’s ‘ownership’ or ‘claim’ over a woman, than the woman’s response of a simple ‘no’.

 Your cheeks burned as you moved to sit between Spencer’s legs and leant back his chest. His arms wrapped around your middle, hugging you tightly to him as his chin rested on your shoulders, your cheek pressed against his.

 You switched on your camera, turning it onto selfie-mode and holding it up in front of you. You don’t know why but it shocks you a little to see Spencer’s smile. You expected a small, awkward smile but that wasn’t what you got. Spencer’s smile was genuine and large, he gave a full grin while his eyes thinned as he looked at the camera.

 Seeing his smile, you could help your own. Your thumb pressed over the button, capturing one photo and then another. Then Spencer moved, turning to face you and pressing a kiss to your cheek; seeming to go all out to get Nathan off your back. You took the picture. You can’t help by laugh, your eyes closing as your thumb pressing the capture button again.

 Spencer gives you a tight squeeze before pulling back slightly. His arms are still around you, gently holding you to him but his nose is rest on your shoulder, his lips against the back of your shoulder blade.

 You click onto the images, scrolling through the five or six that you took. You favourite two of them, one of you both smiling and the other of Spencer kissing your check while you laughed, eyes closed. You both looked cute, happy. You looked like a couple.

 You didn’t bother moving from your spot as you went onto your messages with Nathan. You sent him the two photos before going back onto your images. You smiled as you looked at the two images, flickering between the two.

 “I love these, we look so cute” you smile. You bite your lip. You really wanted to set the cheek-kiss picture as your screen saver but thought that maybe that would be too much. You weren’t dating Spencer; he was your best friend. Yes, he had basically told you to act like he was your boyfriend in that second, but that was to get Nathan off your back.

 Your tilted to the side in his arms slightly as he reaches to grab his phone from his pocket. “Send me them, please?”

You did as he requested, Airdropping the photos to your phone. You leaned back against him, watching as he saved the photos on his phone and favourited them. “Thanks for doing that.”

“Its fine” he says, giving your waist a gentle squeeze in reassurance. It was quiet for a moment until he asked, “Hey, Y/N, why don’t you want to date Nathan?”

“I’m not interested in him. He’s not my type” you shrugged. “I like nice guys, guys who actually think about me and what I need and like.” You bit your lip for a moment, should you do it, should you tell him? Spencer was often obvious, but you thought why not, lay out the breadcrumbs and hope he sees it. He may be obvious, but he’s not stupid. “Someone who would bring me my favourite coffee, would take the time to explain a Star Wars reference to me. Someone who would stock up of sanitary pads for me.”

 Oh shit, you didn’t mean to make it that blatantly clear.

 It was quiet and still. Neither of you spoke. Spencer lifted his phone up, making sure it was clearly in your view, and set the photo of him kissing your cheek as his lock screen. His lips pressed against your temple and your breath caught in your throat as his fingers trailed beneath you top, stroking the skin of your belly as he pulled you tighter to his chest.

 Your cheeks burned. He knew what you were saying, he understood. “So…”

“Do you want to go out to dinner tomorrow night?” he asked, his fingers still stroking your skin.

“Like a-” you began, your head turning to catch a glimpse of him.

“Yeah” he confirmed. His voice was low, showing his nervousness even though you had basically just admitted your crush on him.

“I would like that” you nodded, your cheeks warming, and you smiled, biting your bottom lip.

  And that was that.

Tag List: @101donuts​ @thatsonezesty13​ @sskhair​ @marvelscatlady​ @80strashbag @parkeroffline​

[lilolpotato]

I posted 439 times in 2021

276 posts created (63%)

163 posts reblogged (37%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.6 posts.

I added 545 tags in 2021

#rue talks - 114 posts

#rue 🤡s herself - 82 posts

#hq x reader - 60 posts

#haikyuu x reader - 53 posts

#rue blurbs - 53 posts

#hq fluff - 42 posts

#haikyuu fluff - 41 posts

#haikyuu headcanons - 35 posts

#rue asks - 33 posts

#hq angst - 32 posts

Longest Tag: 94 characters

#bc how low must their self esteem be for them to try and get credit for another person’s work?

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Makes you sit in their lap as you hold their blunt for them, letting them breathe in the smoke. Every so often, they’ll press their lips to yours and blowing the smoke into your mouth, praising you when you don’t cough

KYOUTANI, Tendou, Iwaizumi, KIYOKO, Mattsun, Suna, Kuroo, SUGAWARA,

673 notes • Posted 2021-06-02 21:04:26 GMT

#4

I might make a fantasy!bnha series

I’m thinking:

ruthless pirate king dabi

charming and rugged thief hawks

innocent forest nymph izuku

spoiled sheltered prince shoto

neglected, misunderstood half dragon bakugou

mysterious alluring siren shinsou

dark and eccentric sorcerer aizawa

free spirited adventurer denki

poor apprentice blacksmith who secretly adds magic to his pieces kirishima

controlling paranoid tyrant shigaraki

lemme know which ones are your favorites and I might do fantasy month!!! And nothing is set in stone ofc I still might make changes :D

Here it is!!!

751 notes • Posted 2021-04-07 03:12:11 GMT

#3

So, yeah I'm lying awake rn it's already 12:01am and I have lazy request. Could you do some haikyuu boys (Kageyama, Akaashi and Kita) telling their s/o to go to sleep when they saw that they're still awake? You could do any scenarios u like as long as haikyuu boys tell s/o to sleep cuz I need sleep I have proposal this day🤦🏻‍♀️ - anon

HAIKYUU BOYS WHEN YOU REFUSE TO SLEEP

Fluff, very very soft

ONE nsfw reference, but only one

(aged up! Kageyama, Akaashi, and Kita)

KAGEYAMA

he’s such an awkward guy

He wakes up to the clicks and clacks of your aesthetic keyboard

he notices how long you’ve been working and gets a little concerned with the amount of coffee by your desk and your alarmingly wide eyes as you type as quickly as possible

Kageyama’s a little nervous to approach you, because he knows you’ve been stressed and he doesn’t want to make it worse

But that quickly goes away as he takes in your exhausted appearance and the bags underneath your eyes

Slowly, he approaches you like you’re a wounded animal, and rests his large hands on your shoulders

He won’t say anything at first, just silently bends down in order to rest his forehead on your shoulder

When you don’t say anything, he sleepily mumbles, “Come back to bed with me? I, um. I miss you.”

He gently pulls you away from your work, even though you protest a little, and brings you into his arms.

He might overwork himself every now and then, but he will not tolerate you doing the same, especially if it affects your health.

“Close your eyes, okay? Just for a little bit...” he trails off as you both fall asleep, his arms wrapped around you and your head on his chest

AKAASHI

Akaashi is no stranger to this habit of yours.

You both go to bed at eleven, and yet only Akaashi actually goes to sleep.

He woke up to the sound of “These chicken nuggets are bussin bussin.”

You smiled sheepishly at him, the light of your phone illuminating your face as he groggily noticed the time. 3:42 am.

He pulled you into him, snuggling into your chest as he breathed a soft sigh of contentment.

“Please sleep love. Listening to people talk about Nature’s Cereal isn’t worth losing sleep over.” He grumbled.

He pouted a little looking up at you, “besides I saw Bokuto on your for you page once and it made me jealous.”

Sleepy Akaashi was both a baby and a grumpy neighbor, it was undeniable

But sleepy Akaashi was also irresistible, and your eyes finally felt heavy as you passed out with his face almost suffocated by your chest and your deep breaths slightly moving strands of his hair

The next morning he’ll wake up early to make chicken (or vegan chicken substitute) nuggets and pancakes, and will have the ingredients set up for you guys to try Nature’s Cereal

KITA

He refuses to sleep until you have

You’re the love of his life? He wants to do everything with you.

That doesn’t mean you won’t hear him complain every now and then.

“It’s not logical, you could just do this in the morning after proper rest.”

“Are you reading hurt comfort fanfiction while doing math?”

Even if he tried to go to sleep while you stay up he’ll feel really guilty and just won’t be able to sleep.

He literally goes through the fives stages of grief.

“No, we aren’t staying up late. We’re not doing it.” Kita grumpily crossed his arms and plopped on the bed.

“Why am I so bad at cooking rice? I should be good, I’m a rice farmer for goodness sake!” He complained quietly to his pillow.

“Okay, Y/n if you go to sleep right now I’ll let you peg me.” He said with a serious face. (you admittedly weighed your options with that one)

“This is sad. I have to wake up at 8. I’m sad now.” He pouted, sleepy tears falling down his face as he rubbed his eyes.

“I’m not sleeping tonight, am I.” He let out a heavy sigh.

At about 1 am, he takes away your computer so you have to go to sleep

You both lie in bed, all of a sudden not feeling all that sleepy.

“Shin, can I peg you now?”

“... yeah.” He sighed.

828 notes • Posted 2021-03-28 00:18:22 GMT

#2

wraps their beefy arm around your waist and pulls you towards them into a kiss-

IWAIZUMI, BOKUTO, Atsumu, Aran, Kuroo, Mattsun, Daichi, KYOUTANI

925 notes • Posted 2021-03-06 00:33:07 GMT

#1

Loves tucking their head into your neck as you knot your fingers in their hair and they sneakily suck hickies into your skin as you try and talk to someone, and laughs when you moan in the middle of talking:

ATSUMU, Tsukkishima, KUROO, Sugawara, Nishinoya, SUNA, Hanamakki, Mattsukawa, Konoha, AKAASHI, Tendou, Kunimi, OIKAWA

1237 notes • Posted 2021-03-15 03:00:43 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[ts-agere-stuff]

Agere Fic 1

If I have the energy and this gets enough reblogs, this will be a multi-chapter fic. For now, this works as a stand alone.

tw- none, ask to tag

Summary- Virgil is stressed and wants a way to calm down. Dee offers some help through teaching Virgil how to regress.

Other chapters- 1, 2, 3

“Do you have another pickaxe?” Virgil asked over call, curled up in his chair, fixing his mic.

Dee hummed, then threw one at Virgil, “yes, yes, did you forget sticks again, Virgil?”

Virgil pouted in a way that was almost audible and made Dee laugh. Dee had  only been a part of the discord and minecraft server for about six months, but Virgil was already so easy to read and it felt like they had known each other just as long as Virgil knew the others. 

At the moment, the group needed resources and Virgil never liked going mining without someone nearby, so they hopped into a call and found the nearest cave, then started digging. 

“How many diamonds?” Virgil asked, loudly tapping on his keys just gently enough that they didn’t actually press down while he did so.

“Twenty.” Dee took a breath, “Virgil, are you alright? Your tapping’s getting off…”

“Oh-” Virgil shook his head, trying to shake himself out of it, “Ju-”

“SHIT!” Dee shouted suddenly and took out their sword, then ran over to Virgil and tried hitting something, but Virgil’s character was already dead by a creeper.

Virgil let out a yelp and tensed his whole body, then tried un-tensing but it was no good. He sat there for a moment, not really hearing Dee. Dee had to ping Virgil on Discord to get his attention.

“Sorry-”. Virgil hit respawn and let out a little whine at not being where his bed had been. Which was almost too far away to walk. “Virgil, do you wanna get off? We can mine later, dear.” Dee sighed, “You don’t seem well.”

Virgil just went quiet, swaying, then tried to keep his fingers out of his mouth as he logged out, “Yeah, sorry, I should probably sleep.”

“You got up three hours ago, either you need some vitamin D or you need to stop lying.”

“My name isn’t ‘TheDeeceit’ on discord, now is it?” Virgil let out a dry laugh. “You know how pale I am, there’s no D in me.”

Dee hummed and shook their head, “Virgil, do you want to talk about this with me, someone else, or nobody?”

Virgil started tapping on his keyboard again, “It’s just stress. Just regular ol’ stress. I should be able to deal with it in a HEALTHY way, but noooo-”

“And Roman is the melo-dramatic one?” Dee waited a moment, “That was rude. Okay, have you tried any healthy coping mechanisms?”

“I don’t even know any,” Virgil leaned back in his chair, “i just want a minute where i’m not thinking of the 6 hours of straight work I have to do-”

Dee laughed, “Straight! Dear, you couldn’t go a minute being straight.”

“-every single day. I just wanna think ‘hey, I got this done today’ and not ‘hey, I have a million other things to do tomorrow and this thing I did today.’”

Dee hummed clicked their tongue, “so, a distraction?” 

“That’ll just make me feel g-” Virgil covered his face, “Know what? Yeah, sorry, I am just being dramatic.”

“Virgil, I’m your friend.” Dee started, “I want to help you. I do. You aren’t being dramatic, just listen, okay?”

Virgil rubbed his lips with his index finger, then nodded, “alright, I’ll listen.” Dee started typing something, then sent it to Virgil by DM, “this is the one I’m most familiar with that will work for you. Meditation and exercise clearly won’t work with all of the gears in your head, so let’s take a look at this. You tell me if you want to try this.”

Virgil went to the link then started looking through. Dee read it out loud while Virgil followed along. 

After the article was done and read, Virgil just rubbed his face more, looking down at the keyboard, “so, uh-” Virgil closed his eyes, “I just act like a baby and it’ll make me feel better?” he snorted gently.

“If you want to simplify it that much, then I suppose.” Dee clicked their tongue again, “It’s more of a head space. A room for thoughts about play and juice boxes, where bad stresses aren’t allowed. Usually, people just go through it when stressed automatically, but you can make yourself go through it when you want to.”

Virgil took a breath, “promise not to tell anyone?”

Without warning, Dee pulled up their camera and made sure they were in frame and that Virgil was watching. Dee always had a different yellow or black sweater with a pattern every time Virgil saw them. It was nice, considering how bad Virgil was with faces. Dee and the twins looked similar enough that if Dee didn’t wear the yellow, Virgil would absolutely fuck it up ten times a day. Virgil started thinking that maybe Dee did it to help him.

Dee held up their hand in a way to swear to Virgil, “I promise to not tell a soul, Virgil.” 

Virgil let out a shuddering breath, then nodded, “how do we do this?” 

“I’d get your phone and get in bed. Do you have any old plushies?”

Virgil disconnected from the call, closed the computer, then grabbed his phone, reconnecting, “Yeah, a few.”

Janus nodded, “alright, Virgil, we can either go the route of you watching a cartoon and letting yourself be a baby to it or I can just talk to you being a baby.”

Virgil nodded and did finger guns to himself, “Avatar.”

Janus snorted, “I think a show with a few less war crimes would be best for a first time.”

Virgil blew a raspberry.

Dee hummed happily, then blew a raspberry back. 

Virgil huffed in fake offense and blew another one.

“Oh, so it’s a war, Vivi!” “Yeah, it is!” Virgil started blowing as many raspberries as possible.

Dee let him win and hummed once Virgil stopped, “Vivi, how’re you feeling?”

“Like my head’s swaying.” He rubbed at his eyes, “but in a nice way.”

“That’s amazing, Vivi.” Dee started humming whatever disney song they heard Roman sing last. 

Virgil tapped his nails on his teeth, then looked at the phone, “I t’ink I’m little.” He mumbled and curled up more in the bed around his bat plush. 

Dee cooed softly, “that’s so good, dear. Just relax, Vivi, mommy’s here.”

Virgil nodded and kept blowing little bubbles with his mouth, then made kissy noises  with a shy smile. 

Dee took a breath, “you’re too cute, dear. Absolutely adorable.”

Virgil closed his eyes, “tire’.”

“Are you really?” Dee asked softly.

“Mhm.” Virgil started sucking on his thumb, making Dee smile, “then I guess it’s nap time. Goo-”

“MMM!” Virgil whined and shook his head. “I’m sorry baby, what do you need?” 

Virgil messed with his tongue to try to get it in the right place, then tried talking, “‘tay til I slee’?” Dee took a moment to decipher that, then nodded, “mommy is gonna stay right here, baby. Do you want mommy to read you to sleep?”

Virgil nodded and listened to Dee. 

Dee took a breath and started reading Harold and the Purple Crayon, which made Virgil fall asleep almost immediately. Dee finished the story, sent to the others that they couldn’t finish the mining trip and not to bother Virgil, then went to go let themself regress.

[justonecitizenoftheearth]

Destiel Secret Santa gift

Hej @notfunnydean ! This is your not-secret-anymore Santa from the @destielsecretsanta2020. I hope you like my story and merry Christmas!

Rating: T

Tags: case fic, fluff, even more fluff, a brief flicker of angst, Dean and Cas finally using their words, getting together for real, Sam is exasperated, Eileen is too

The Hunt before Christmas

Dean hummed a Christmas carol as he entered the kitchen. It was the 21st of December and the first year. The first year without a case, without an impending apocalypse, without grief weighing so heavy on his shoulders he thought he would suffocate. The first year to celebrate Christmas with his extended family. He smiled, gratefully and contentedly.

Sam sat at the table; a cup of coffee in one hand and the other on the keyboard of his laptop. Eileen stood behind him and had her arms wrapped around his neck. As Dean passed them by on his way to the coffee maker, he saw that they were browsing the same property agency´s site as the day before. Eileen pointed at a house and Sam clicked to read the details, both smiling softly and a little unbelieving.

Dean took a pan and started to make bacon and eggs, softly humming Metallica as he did so. When he turned around again, Cas stood beside Sam and signed a good morning to Eileen. A shiver ran through Dean as he saw the former angel so relaxed, in a T-Shirt and Sweatpants, a small smile on his face as he commented on the houses they were looking at. After he had pulled Castiel out of the empty, making him human in the process, he had told him that he loved him, too. He had pressed his lips to Cas´ in a desperate kiss and held him so tight he´d nearly crushed him. But after that, neither of them had known how to proceed. So, things had been awkward for a bit, neither knowing how to initiate another kiss or, god forbid, a conversation. They had continued mostly as before, maybe standing a bit closer to each other, hands brushing more often. Sometimes, when he felt brave, Dean pulled Castiel into a short hug when they were the last ones to go to bed after a movie night, or he´d ruffle his hair as he passed by in the morning. But Dean didn´t stay in range long enough for Cas to reciprocate, still too afraid of wanting too much, still too on edge about coming to terms with wanting Castiel to touch him. He stayed close, but not too close. With all the change happening, the pressure and purpose gone after god´s defeat, it was all he could handle.

Cas´ gaze met Dean´s across the room and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened as he smiled at him. Dean had to hold onto the counter as the realization that Castiel loved him back hit him again, overwhelming, and scary, and euphoric. He cleared his throat.

“Cas, can you tell Jack that breakfast is ready?”

“Of course, Dean.”

Dean´s eyes followed Castiel as he left the kitchen and avoided the half annoyed, half pitying look that Sam gave him. He turned around to get plates and glasses for orange juice.

 ***

 The five of them were almost done with their breakfast as an alarm went off on Sam´s laptop. He frowned and scanned the page. His frown deepened and Dean set down his fork. He´d seen that expression a thousand times and a giddy, exited part of him made way for resignation. Some things would never change and getting rid of god would not rid the world of monsters. Maybe it was time to leave the actual hunting to someone else, but not quite yet.

“What´s up, Sammy?”

“Several cases of murders in Manitowoc, Wisconsin. Apparently, four people have disappeared on their way home from different festivities. Two have been found later, with severe wounds, but it´s not clear what caused these.”

“Hearts missing?”

“Don´t know, it´s not in the report.”

Dean sighed. “I´m gonna check it out.”

Sam closed his laptop, nodding. “We´ll leave in 15?”

“No, I´m going alone. You lot stay here and prepare the bunker for Christmas. If I don´t have a sock and a Christmas tree and eggnog and cookies ready when I come home, I´ll be your personal spirit of Christmas Yet to come and kick your ass.”

Sam grinned, but opened his mouth to argue. Cas was faster.

“I´ll come with you.”

Dean shuddered at the familiar words. The last time he´d heard them was the day he´d lost Cas to the empty. What if something happened? It seemed like an easy hunt, but what if something went wrong? He couldn´t lose Cas again, and now he was human and could get hurt or sick or ki…

“I think that´s a good idea.” Eileen seemed serious, but her eyes sparkled. “You can handle the hunt together and Sam, Jack and I will handle the Christmas decorations.”

Dean stared at her, then at Cas. “No, it´s fine, I can handle it alone, no big deal.”

“Dean, that´s bullshit. You two go on that hunt and be back in a few days, and if you can´t make it for Christmas, you won´t be alone. It´s a good plan, don´t be a jerk.”

“Who are you calling a jerk, bitch?”

Both brothers grinned at the familiarity of the bickering, then Dean turned towards Cas.

“You really want to come with me?”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “Yes, of course I do, Dean. I think I was pretty clear about that by now.”

Dean swallowed and nodded, ignoring that this was the closest they had come to actually talking about their, well, not-quite relationship.

“Well then, we leave in 30. Pack warm clothes, it´ll be cold in Wisconsin.”

 ***

 “Did you not want me to come with you?”

Castiel´s blue eyes were so clear they seemed translucent, and Dean nearly drove them into a ditch as he lost himself in their openness yet again.

“Jesus, Cas. Of course I want you to come with me. I always do.”

Dean bit his tongue as the words slipped free. Awesome. Two hours into being alone with Cas and he already lost control over his mouth. This was going to be a long hunt. But the happy smile on Cas´ face when Dean dared to look at him again was totally worth it.

 ***

 They arrived at the motel late at night. Slight snowfall and bitter cold greeted them as they left the car and Dean slipped on the icy ground as he made his way to the reception. Cas caught his arm and pulled him up again and for a second, they were so close that Dean stopped breathing. But Cas just smiled, asked if he was okay and took a step back when he was sure that Dean was steady again. He then walked up to the motel, his trench coat flapping behind him, snowflakes getting caught in his hair, and Dean could just stare dumbly, until a gust of wind reminded him that he was standing outside in the snowfall as well.

Dean hurried to catch up and they booked a room with two queens, at the far end of the motel. Dean went to get the bags while Cas went to check the room. They salted the windowsills and the threshold and Dean checked the news while Cas went to get dinner. While he was waiting, Dean checked the address of the next police department, the morgue and the names and addresses of the victim´s families. It was such a well-known routine that it calmed him a bit after the long drive and the constant flutter in his stomach that being close to Cas always caused.

Castiel returned and they shared pizza and beer while Dean explained their plan for the next day:

“We´ll get into our fed suits and check out the police department and the morgue. Also, we´ll check online and in the local bars if there are any parties planned tomorrow, if so, we´ll stay close and try to catch the thing, whatever it is, when it´s trying to attack again. We´ll salt and burn it, or behead it, or stab it, or whatever, and be home for Christmas.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

For a moment, they were both silent, munching on their pizza. But it was a comfortable silence and Dean relaxed into it. He heard the wind howling around the corners of the house and in the light of a lantern outside, he watched the snow fall. He smiled faintly. It could be worse.

“Do you like Christmas?” asked Cas.

Dean had to think about it and Castiel didn´t press, he just waited and scrolled a bit further on their news page.

Finally, Dean answered: “You know, we didn´t celebrate Christmas very often. When I was a kid, my dad wasn´t always there on Christmas. But the few times that we actually did celebrate were quite nice. When I was twelve, Sam gave me the necklace as a present. You know, the one that I gave to you when you”, he stopped there, suddenly remembering the purpose of the necklace.

“The one that can find god, I remember.” Cas just smiled; no tension suggested that the memory bothered him.

“Yeah, exactly, that one. Actually, that Christmas was pretty shitty, dad never showed up, I had to tell Sam the first bit about monsters being real, he was disappointed and cried the whole night before that… I actually stole a few presents, just so I had something to give to him, but they turned out to be girl stuff. He wasn´t happy.” Dean laughed and scratched his neck. “But I kept the necklace anyways.”

“I´m sorry it was like that. It wasn´t right, you two deserved someone to be there with you. You didn´t deserve the burden to be a parent to your brother.”

“Yeah, well”, Dean wanted to shrug it off, but again, his mouth had other plans. “I remember a bit of what Christmas was before, you know. Before our mom died. Nothing specific, just bits and pieces. A feeling of warmth and lights everywhere and just the general happiness that related to Christmas. I tried to give that to Sam later, but I was a kid and motel rooms aren´t made to be cozy and festive.” Dean gestured around him with a grin and Cas chuckled. Dean wanted to leave it at that, but again, he couldn´t.

“We had that one nice Christmas, even in a motel room. That was 2007, before… well, before I went to hell. Sam and I had a case and I wanted to celebrate, I mean, I thought it´d be the last time, you know. He didn´t want to at first, but in the end, we had a pretty decent evening. Eggnog and decorations and gifts and a game on TV. It was nice. Not as nice as Christmas with Mrs. Butters though.” Now both of them were laughing when they remembered the wood nymph, and the laughter left a warm feeling in Dean´s belly, that felt a little bit like Christmas, too. He grinned at Cas and the former angel grinned back, eyes sparkling and teeth showing, and Dean wanted to kiss him so badly it nearly hurt. But he didn´t dare to. But he lifted his hand and squeezed Cas´ shoulder before he leaned back and stretched his arms over his head.

“Let´s get ready for bed. Who knows how much sleep we´ll be able to catch tomorrow.” Castiel nodded, but as Dean got up to go to the bathroom to change, he caught his hand and held on. “This Christmas will be a nice one. And the next one, too. No more motel rooms or hunts or heartbreak. You still deserve that, Dean.” The hunter could only nod, the lump in his throat too big to talk.

Later, when they were lying in bed, Dean expected his thoughts to race and to keep him up for an eternity. But the sound of the calm, even breaths from the bed next to his lulled him to sleep faster than whisky had ever managed.

 ***

 The police were very eager to help detectives “Hammet” and “Burton” and handed them the files without a second glance at their IDs. They also gave them the address to the morgue, where another helpful pathologist showed them to the victims and then left them to it. The monster obviously didn´t have a type, one of the victims was a woman in her forties who had come back from a working dinner that had taken longer and included more cocktails than expected. Another one was a seventeen-year-old boy who had come home from a LAN party in the early morning hours (there were obviously still people who did that). The other two had been a businessman who had been passing through this town and had spent his evening in the local bar, and a woman in her late twenties who had been born here and had been on a party at a friend´s house. They apparently had nothing in common except for the fact that they all had been at some kind of party before they died.

Dean checked their bodies and there were no hearts missing and the blood seemed to fit the wounds. There were bite marks, but it didn´t look like the attacker had killed them to eat the victims, there were no chunks of flesh missing. The teeth marks looked human, same size and same tooth marks. That was indeed strange, and he stayed silent, lost in his thoughts, while Cas and he ate lunch in the car. They turned up the heating and the radio and Castiel watched the people on the street, buying Christmas presents and decorations, sharing sweets, laughing and talking. Couples, parents with their kids and some people who roamed the streets alone, stopping every few steps to admire the shop windows. It was normal, and peaceful, and he suddenly felt a longing for a life like this, without the threat of injury and death looming over every job they took, without having to be ready to fight at all times, just the everyday worries of ordinary people. It was so strong he forgot to breathe for a second.

“Cas? Cas, are you okay?”

Castiel turned around and met Dean´s confused and worried eyes. His tone implied that he had been trying to get the former angel´s attention for some time.

“Yeah, I´m fine. I just … I just thought that it´d be nice to have a life like that.” Cas waved his hand in the general direction of the people outside the car. Then he huffed out a humorless laugh. “But I wouldn´t even know how that works. I don´t know anything besides … how to be a soldier. How to be violent. I don´t – “, Dean took his hand and cut short the self-deprecating monologue. “Cas, neither do I. But we will figure it out, okay? We´ll find something. Let´s just finish this job and then we´ll think about it.” Castiel just nodded mutely, his attention completely bound by “We will figure it out”, and Dean´s warm fingers wrapped around his own. Dean smiled and started the car, but after he pulled out of his parking spot, his hand found Cas´ again. Their fingers entwined, slowly, carefully, and Cas thought he could feel Dean´s racing pulse through his skin. But neither of them pulled away, their hands settled on the leather between them and when he glanced sideways, Cas saw that Dean smiled softly at the road ahead. Castiel leaned back and thought that he´d never been happier than here and now, driving down the snowy road, his thumb circling over Dean´s skin, the low hum of the Impala mixing with the sweet words of an Elvis song on the radio.

 ***

 Questioning the relatives and colleagues of the victims didn´t provide them with any more leads on what kind of creature they had to deal with, or what the victims had in common, so they returned to the motel room and called Sam. The zoom call got accepted and they had a view of the war room. Fairy lights were wrapped around the handrail at the stairs and the columns in the room. Sam was breathing heavily, and he had fir needles in his hair, but his eyes were sparkling. “Hey guys, how´s it going? What are you up against?”

“Better question, what are you up against? And more importantly, will that fight with the forest spirits you´re apparently in finally make you cut your damn hair?”

Dean grinned and Sam rolled his eyes fondly. “No, jerk, I just carried the Christmas tree inside. You know, because someone threatened me with becoming the spirit of Christmas yet to come.”

Cas tilted his head, his forehead creased in worry. “But would you becoming a spirit not require you to die?”

Dean snorted. “Dude, no. It´s, uh, it´s a book reference. ´A Christmas Carol´. I thought Metatron uploaded all culture in your head?”

“Yeah, but my human brain can´t hold all of that information.”

“Oh. Yeah, I get that.” Dean rubbed his neck awkwardly. “I mean, it´s a movie, too, maybe we could watch it together?”

“Yes, I´d like that, Dean.”

They smiled at each other, until Sam cleared his throat and shook his head in exasperation. Dean filled him in on their case and the lack of specific details on the kind of monster they were up against. Sam thought about it for a while and asked more questions, but he didn´t come up with a clear answer either.

“I guess your best chance is to find out where the next party and/or festivity takes place and go from there. Take a little bit of everything; salt, iron, silver, holy water, maybe even dead man´s blood, and see what happens. I think you should be able to handle it. I´m gonna do some research, maybe I´ll find something.” Sam looked at someone behind the screen and signed: “Dean and Cas. I´m gonna explain later.”

Dean smiled softly. “Do some research if you want, but I think we´ve got it. Have a good time and say hello to Eileen and Jack.”

Sam nodded, but his smile faded. “Be careful.”

“Yeah, we will.” Dean grinned. “It´s not like I´m gonna throw myself on a rusty nail and really become the spirit of Christmas. And all those sons of bitches should know better than pissing me off.”

Sam snorted. “Sure, whatever.”

A moment before Sam ended the call, Jack entered the frame with his hands full of Christmas tree decorations and fairy lights wrapped around his shoulders.

“Sam, where do these g-“

Dean and Castiel chuckled at the black screen. Then Dean stretched and smiled softly at the snow that had started to fall outside the window again. “How about we find out where we can attend a party tonight and then we´ll actually watch ´A Christmas Carol´, whaddaya say?”

Cas smiled widely. “That sounds good.”

It didn´t take long to find out that there was a “Yule Party” at the bar in town, to celebrate the Winter Solstice. They didn´t need a ticket and could just show up, which gave them not much to do for the next few hours. Dean went and got pizza and some weird stuff named “Glögg”, which turned out to be pretty sweet, but good nonetheless.

Dean and Castiel settled on one bed and put the laptop up on the lower end. They had pizza and Glögg on their nightstands and were sitting so close that their shoulders and thighs were touching, but it was comfortable and familiar. The movie was up and when they finished eating, their hands inched closer. Dean´s heart was racing, a part of him wanted to draw back, but it had been so freeing to hold Cas´ hand in the car that he couldn´t make himself. Instead, he held his breath and took a leap again, wrapping his fingers around Castiel´s, who immediately relaxed. Dean closed his eyes for a moment and let out a long sigh, his attention bound by the warmth of Cas´ body beside him and his strong, solid hand in his. The former angel moved a bit up again, tensed, and then, as if he´d made up his mind, he let his head sink lower and laid it on Dean´s shoulder. A soft smile spread over the hunter´s face and he rested his cheek on top of Castiel´s head. His soft hair smelled of the shampoo that they shared and tickled a bit at his ear, but he didn´t move away and neither did Cas.

The movie played with low sound. the light was dim as it grew dark outside and the wind picked up again and threw snowflakes at the window. Castiel´s thumb drew soft patterns on Dean´s skin. It was heaven on earth.

Both of them dozed for a while, content in their warm bubble of happiness, but it got late and they still had a party to attend. With a sigh, Dean opened his eyes and looked down at their intertwined hands. Before he could chicken out, he pressed a lingering kiss on Cas´ head. Castiel´s grip tightened, and Dean heard his shuddering inhale, but he didn´t move for another few seconds. Finally, he murmured in the other man´s hair:

“We have to get up. We still have to go to this party.”

Cas voice was quiet as he answered: “I know. But I´d rather stay here with you.”

Dean lifted his head and Cas looked up. Dean got lost in these blue, clear eyes he´d spent so many hours daydreaming about.

“Yeah, me too.”

They held each other´s gaze for long seconds. Dean saw Castiel´s eyes widen in wonder at his words and then flicker down at his lips for a brief moment before they met his again. And suddenly, he didn´t know anymore why they had continued to dance around each other even after everything was already in the open. He loved Cas. And Cas loved him. And they both knew it. There was no reason to hide anymore. So Dean lifted Cas´ head with a hand and closed the distance between them, heart beating out of his chest. Castiel held his breath as their lips brushed against each other, soft as flower petals. The brief contact sent a shiver through Dean´s whole body. This wasn´t born of desperation as their last kiss. This was just made of love. And finally, their mouths locked together.

All air left Cas´ body in a long sigh as he finally felt Dean´s lips against his own. Their mouths started to move against each other, cautiously, but not rushed, not hurried. The first time that Dean´s tongue flicked against his lips, Castiel thought that his newly gained soul was about to leave his body. He arched towards Dean´s body and pulled his head close with one hand and kissed him at if he was drowning and Dean was his saving breath. Which he was. Dean groaned and pushed his tongue inside of Cas´ mouth and groaned again when the former angel started sucking on it. Suddenly, Cas was laying on his back, pressed into the mattress by the weight of Dean on top of him and Dean held himself up on one elbow and started to push Castiel´s sweatshirt up with the other one and suddenly they froze. Both men were breathing heavily, faces only inches apart, flushed, wide eyed, and neither had ever felt more alive.

“Now I really don´t want to go.”

Cas shuddered as he heard Dean´s voice so rough and low, desire obvious in his shaded eyes. He nearly said: “Then we won´t”, his whole body going hot as he imagined what would follow, but then the torn bodies of the victims flashed before his eyes. They couldn´t risk it.

“Neither do I. But ... lives are on the line.”

Dean sighed deeply. “I know. Let´s go.”

They got up, changed, and sorted out the weapons they were going to hide in their clothes. All the while, they shared glances, blushing and giddy. Cas had his hand already on the door handle when Dean gripped his hand and held him back.

“Cas, I”, the hunter bit his lip, but in the end, it was easier than he thought.

“I don´t want to hide anymore. I don´t want to pretend this didn´t happen. I – I want you. I want to be with you, for real.”

“Oh Dean.” Castiel turned to cup Dean´s cheek. “I wanted you since I pulled you out of hell. And I won´t stop wanting you, even when the last fiber of my being turns into dust and vanishes from this earth.”

He laid his forehead against the hunter´s. “I love you, Dean Winchester. And I want to be with you in every sense of the word.”

And it wasn´t harder than taking the first breath of fresh air after a long time underground when Dean answered. “I love you, too.”

It was Castiel who closed the distance between them and kissed Dean this time. Then he smiled more vibrant than Dean had ever seen.

“Let´s finish this hunt and go home.”

When they walked up to the Impala, they were holding hands.

  ***

 The bar was full and loud and cheerful, and Dean enjoyed it more than he´d have thought. He held hands with Cas and ignored all dark looks about it. He drank three different kinds of beers and stopped then, before he got drunk. He played a round of pool just for the fun of it. He sat so close to Cas that their bodies touched and reveled in the glowing eyes and the easy smile of his – well, boyfriend.

They were sitting on the far end of the bar, with the wall in their back and the exit in sight. Cas´ fingers played with Dean´s and sent pleasant shivers down his spine. It reminded him a bit of the day they thought they´d die and he had taken Cas to that night club to get him laid. This night, he´d take Cas home. Well, he´d taken him home that night too, but now was different. Maybe they´d even sleep in the same bed. Maybe they´d… Cas´ voice interrupted Dean´s train of thought.

“Are you happy?”

The sentence took a moment to sink in, but then a broad smile spread on the hunter´s face.  “Yeah. I really am.”

Cas squeezed his hand briefly. “I am too.”

For a moment they just looked at each other. Happy. Together. Finally. A nagging feeling filled Dean and he frowned. When were they ever allowed to be happy? The last time…

Castiel felt the change in mood. “What is it, Dean?”

“I don´t know, I”, Dean lowered his eyes. “I don´t want to lose this”, he whispered.

A gentle hand lifted his chin again. “You won´t. Everything will be fine.”

They held each other’s gaze, a thousand words said without a sound. But the mood in the room changed, a lot of people got up and were ready to go. Dean sighed and leaned back, only now realizing how close they had been. “The sooner we wrap this up, the sooner we´re out of here.”

Dean threw a bundle of dollars on the bar and they left, too. Outside the pub, they were met with icy wind. The snow scrunched under their feet. Dean shuddered and buried his hands in his jacket.

“Okay, what now? Should we go together or split up?”

“I think all of the victims have been alone, so it will probably be more effective if we split up.”

Dean nodded, swallowing the bad feeling he had. Cas was experienced. He´d fought more battles than Dean could even imagine. He´d be fine.

“Right. I´ll go down that alley, you go up towards the motel, we meet up there in three hours if nothing happens.”

Cas nodded briefly, but before he went, he pulled Dean close and kissed him once again, sweet and slow.

“See you later.”

Dean swallowed and blinked rapidly. When he´d regained his balance, Cas was already on the way. The hunter turned around, the feeling of Castiel´s lips still tingling on his.

It didn´t go smooth. It didn´t take long, either. Barely twenty minutes had passed when Dean heard a silent scream of terror in the distance, from the direction in which Cas had gone. It hadn´t been Cas´ voice, but the former angel would get there much sooner that he could and suddenly, his heart was in his throat. Dean took off, skittering over the snowy streets, smashing into walls, but he didn´t slow down. He heard a gunshot and some shouting only two streets away, running even faster, lungs burning, and stumbled around the corner just in time to see Cas getting thrown into a wall and sliding down. Unmoving. Lifeless.

For a second, the whole world stopped. Dean stared at the crumpled figure and a part of him laughed humorlessly. “I knew it. I won´t ever get to keep what I have. I destroy every good thing in my life,” whispered a voice from the darkest place in his mind. “No!” It took Dean a moment to realize he´d screamed the last word. This wasn´t supposed to happen! They were supposed to be happy; they were supposed to be free, they … Then his gaze turned towards the dark figure that had thrown Cas through the air like a rag doll. And his vision turned red.

He emptied his magazine into the body of the creature. It wailed, but still moved, so Dean took his silver and iron knifes and jumped into close combat. He sliced and stabbed and hit and kicked and he would rip this thing apart with his bare hands if he needed to, but it would curse the day it had taken Castiel away from him again. Dean didn´t feel the claws of the monster on his skin and the smell of the blood dripping from his face and he didn´t realize that his attacks were in vain. He just wanted it to suffer like he did.

Something wrapped their arms around his chest from behind and pulled him back. Dean panicked and tried to cut himself free, but then a very familiar voice shouted in his ear: “Dean, stop! This doesn´t work, stop!” Dean went slack and let himself be pulled away; all fight left him in an instant. He lived! Castiel lived! The creature hissed at him, glowing eyes staring at them for a moment before it vanished into the darkness.

Cas let go and spun Dean around, eyes skimming over his face and body to check for injuries. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Dean opened his mouth to answer and started crying.

Castiel wrapped him in a tight embrace and whispered wonderful, gentle words into his hair. Dean clung to him as if his life depended on it, sobbing into his neck and it took a long time before he realized that he repeated the words “you´re alive, you´re alive” again and again, and even then, it took a long time for him to stop. Slowly, his tears subsided and he felt slightly embarrassed, but not enough to let go. Castiel seemed to be happy to hold him. However, Dean started to feel his body tremble and his arms and chest burned. He drew back and winced. Castiel looked down at his arms and his eyes widened. “You are hurt!”

“It´s nothing. But you, I thought you – you weren´t moving and I” Dean hid his face in his hands. “Dammit, one might think I´d be used to this after a lifetime of hunting. Son of a bitch!”

Cas  squeezed his shoulder. “It´s okay. It´s different now, I know. Please let us go back so I can take care of you.”

“But what about you? Are you okay?”

Castiel simply shrugged. “I´m a bit sore and my head hurts, but it´s not bleeding and I´ll be fine. I was mostly disoriented, and then you came and before I knew it, you tried to rip that thing to shreds with your bare hands.”

Dean blushed and looked down, but Castiel took his hand and he let his angel lead him home.

 ***

 When they turned on the lights in the motel room, Castiel blanched. He helped Dean take of his torn, bloody jacket and ushered him into the bathroom. He sat Dean down on a chair and ignored all protests when he took a towel and the first aid kit and got to work.

Castiel wiped the blood from Dean´s face with gentle strokes and cleaned his wounds with careful hands. There were several long, deep gashes along Dean´s arms and some on his chest, too. Blood seeped out of them and Dean started to sway as the adrenaline subsided and the blood loss made itself known. Castiel´s eyes were bright with worry and he went out for a moment to snatch some water and a granola bar. He helped Dean lift the glass to his lips and take a bite, again ignoring the weak protest entirely, one steadying hand always on Dean´s shoulder.

“Do you want to lay down while I´m stitching these?”

“We´re gonna ruin the bedsheet.”

“I don´t care.”

“I don´t want to get up.”

Castiel took out the needle and the dental floss. “I´m sorry, I won´t be very good at it.”

“It´s okay.”

Dean closed his eyes and only hissed a few times when Castiel´s clumsy stiches pulled at his skin. Castiel apologized every time. When he was finished, he covered the sutures and wrapped the hunter´s arms and chest in gauze. Then, he  leaned his head against Dean´s knee and stayed there.

Dean got dizzy when he looked down, so he kept his eyes closed, but started to pet Cas´ head with the hand that hurt less.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Dean tensed up and his eyes flew open, dizzyness be damned.

“What do you-“

“I don´t want to be scared to lose you all the time. I don´t want your blood on my hands and live in the constant fear of something coming and taking you away from me.”

Dean met Castiel´s eyes. They were shining in an astonishing shade of blue, wet with tears.

“I don´t want to hunt anymore. I will come with you, but I do –“

“Neither do I.”

They both stayed silent for a few seconds, the weight of the moment sinking in.

“I don´t know how else to live. But I want to try, because I´ve had enough, too. The world is saved, we are free, we´re no longer under Chuck´s control. Someone else can take care of the monsters now, there are enough hunters out there. Don´t get me wrong, I want to be in touch, I want to help. But I don´t want to fight on the front anymore. I´ve earned that. We´ve earned that.”

Castiel got up and took Dean´s face in his hands. There were still tears on his face, and the crow´s feet around the corners of his eyes wrinkled as he smiled. Dean had never seen him more ethereal, more angelic. More beautiful.

“Yes, we did. We did.”

 Castiel helped Dean up and tried to steady him on his way to the bed without touching his wounds. He got another glass of water and the pain killers, swallowed two himself, made Dean swallow two and got out of his clothes. Dean still got dizzy when he looked down, so Cas took of his shoes and helped him out of his jeans. Dean was tempted to crack a joke about Cas finally undressing him, but the seriousness of the moment asked for silence. They lay down, both in one bed, without question, without talking, Cas behind Dean. He pressed his chest against Dean´s back, one arm under his head, the other wrapped around his waist, careful to avoid the covered injuries. Dean had thought he´d have trouble sleeping the first night in the same bed, but Cas´ closeness was incredibly calming and pulled him under before his brain could come up with even one reason why this was anything but good.

 ***

 It took some time for Castiel to wake up. The first thing that he realized was the source of warmth before him and he pressed closer, a contended sigh on his lips. Hair tickled his nose and he rubbed it against soft skin. He dozed off again for some time, before the events of the night before caught up with him and he tensed. Slowly, Castiel opened his eyes. Deans head rested on his arm, which had gone a bit numb, but he could still feel the warm breaths ghost over his skin. Dean´s body rose and fell gently and suddenly, Cas felt like crying. Out of gratitude that he was allowed to be here and hold Dean in his arms. Out of sadness over the wasted time, over all the tragedy in their lives. Out of happiness. Out of love. He buried his nose in Dean´s neck again. His voice was raw with emotion when he whispered: “I love you so much, Dean Winchester.”

Dean tensed, but before Cas could say anything else, he answered: “I love you, too.”

Castiel let go so Dean could turn around and reveled in the sight of his sleepy eyes and tousled hair.

Dean smiled tiredly and caressed his cheek. “Did you sleep well? Does your head hurt?”

Castiel leaned into Dean´s hand and nearly forgot that he was supposed to answer a question.

“No. Well, it´s throbbing a little bit, but nothing that´d worry me. How are your injuries?”

Dean wanted to dismiss it, but he decided otherwise. “They sting. But I´m not worried either, doesn´t feel hot or infected or something.”

Castiel smiled, grateful for Dean´s honesty. With an insecure gaze, Dean leaned forward and hesitated, before he closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to Cas´ in an open-mouthed kiss. Cas melted under his mouth, body pressing closer and lips opening to let his tongue flick out. He was very careful to not put pressure on Dean´s injured chest and arms, but his hands were all over his face and back and Dean felt like floating, time and space and purpose just disappearing, until his whole world had reduced to this room and the warmth and scent of Castiel all around him.

It was a long time later when they pulled back to catch their breath, faces still so close together that they shared the same air. Dean thought he might explode from the magnitude of his feelings swiveling around just under his skin. When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw were Cas´ damp, red, parted lips and his heart jumped. Cas´ fingers played in his hair and he was so comfortable that he thought he might just fall back asleep, but his grumbling stomach obviously had other plans. Cas chuckled.

“Time for breakfast?”

Dean huffed. “Yeah. And a call with Sammy.”

“And some more painkillers.”

Dean didn´t argue. They got up and Cas got out to get coffee and breakfast while Dean struggled with his clothes, his injured arms hurting and stinging. With a curse, the hunter swallowed more pills and started his laptop. He dug through some of the databases, but nothing quite fit the profile of the monster. The date at the bottom of the screen seamed to double in size every time he dismissed an idea. The 23d of December. Two days until Christmas. If they didn´t manage to wrap this up soon, he´d have to stay here over the holidays with Cas. It would still be one of, if not the best Christmas of his life, but he´d been looking forward to celebrating with Sam, Jack and Eileen. And maybe visit Jody and the girls. The lock clicked and Dean´s hand flew instinctively towards his gun when Cas entered the room.

“Find something?”

Dean silently shook his head.

Castiel set the coffee and breakfast on the table and kissed the top of Dean´s head.

“We´ll make it for Christmas. Have you called Sam yet? Maybe he knows something?”

“Breakfast first.”

After indulging in coffee, sandwiches, some muffins and comfortable silence, Dean called Sam. It was Eileen who picked up.

“Hey Dean.”

“Hey Eileen. Is Sam around?”

“No, I´m gonna get – are you hurt?”

Her gaze swept over Dean´s gauze-covered arms and the bandages that peeked out from under his T-Shirt.

“Nah, it´s just a scratch.”

Dean´s eyes wandered over to Castiel, who threw Dean an incredulous look.

“What?”

“It´s not just a scratch, Dean.”

“I mean, I´ve had worse. Much worse.”

“That doesn´t mean that you should take this lightly.”

Eileen just grinned and went to the kitchen to get Sam. When they came back, Dean nearly threw himself off his chair with laughter. Sam wore an apron and wiped his hands with a kitchen towel, flour in his hair and dough on his forearms.

“Shut up, jerk!”

“No, forget it, bitch. I´m never gonna let you live this down. Man, you look like Mary Poppins!”

“Mary Poppins was a very wise and gentle…”

“Cas, I know. That doesn´t mean that I won´t tease my brother with it.”

Castiel held his gaze with a pointed look, until Sam cleared his throat.

“Guys, if you just called to insult me and bicker with each other, again, I´m going back to my cookies.”

Dean blushed and opened and closed his mouth a few times. Cas took over.

“We´ve encountered the monster and we can´t figure out what it is.”

Sam got serious immediately. “What happened?” Eileen tapped his shoulder and signed something. Sam´s jaw clenched, and his worried eyes turned towards Dean.

“You are hurt?”

Dean grumbled and waved his hand dismissively, which brought his gauze-wrapped arm into Sam´s sight and made him wince.

“It´s no- it´s not bad. A few gashes, nothing wild. Stop fretting.” He turned towards Cas. “Both of you.”

“Okay.” Sam and Dean stayed silent for a moment, a lifetime of shared trauma and injuries between them. Then Sam cleared his throat. “Okay, what happened?”

After listening to their story, minus certain parts that Dean and Cas kept to themselves, Sam rubbed his jaw, deep in thought.

“So, that thing attacks people who come home from celebrations at night. Nothing connecting the victims, human-shaped, not vocal, claws.” He stayed silent for a moment. “I have a hunch. I´m gonna call you later.”

They ended the call.

Dean sighed deeply and Castiel wrapped his arm around him. “What are we gonna do now?” Dean shrugged. “Hulu or Netflix?”

They were into the third episode of the Witcher when Sam called again.

“So get this. There is a creature in Norse mythology that fits your description. It´s called a draugr. It´s a kind of undead and it´s said that it attacks people who are making noise in the time around midwinter.”

“That fits! How do you kill it?”

“Well, it´s immune to most injuries, as you said. You have to behead it, lay it´s head at its ass and set it on fire.”

“We have to – lay it´s head at its ass? What the hell, man?”

“Look, I didn´t come up with that. Just do it, burn it. Or salt and burn it, won´t do any harm.”

Dean nodded. “Well, if we can get it tonight, we might make it for Christmas.”

“Yeah, burn that son of a bitch and come home.”

“Dean smiled softly. “Yeah, we´ll do that. See ya, Sammy.”

“Bye Dean, bye Cas.”

Both of them leaned back in their chairs as the call ended. For a moment, they were silent, then Dean covered his face with his hand and chuckled.

“Son of a bitch. A draugr. After defeating god, we failed to kill a goddamn zombie.”

Castiel laughed lightly. “Well, it failed to kill us, too, so I call that a tie. We´ll go and get it tonight and then we can go home to Sam, Eileen, and Jack. And celebrate Christmas.”

“Sounds good.”

Dean raised his arms to stretch the sore muscles and winced in pain. “Okay, so, it´s barely half past two, so what are we gonna do with the rest of the day? And will there be a party tonight that we can attend?”

It didn´t take long to find out that there was a Christmas-themed ball in the town hall. The tickets were already sold and there was a guest list.

“I don´t think we actually have to sneak in, we can wait outside until it´s late and people are leaving. Then we´ll go and get this bastard.”

“I agree, but with one condition.”

Dean lifted one eyebrow.

“We´ll not gonna split up again.” Castiel´s eyes were hard. “I won´t leave you to hunt on your own when you´re that hurt. We´re gonna stick together and I will fight. If something happens, you can still intervene. But I won´t leave you, no matter how much you´re gonna argue that you´re-“

“I wasn´t going to.”

Surprised, Castiel tilted his head.

“I would have suggested it myself. I think we´re better together. And I want to finish our last hunt together.”

Cas´ lip trembled and he gripped Dean´s hand tight. “Okay. Yeah. Our last hunt.”

None of them could tell who leaned in first, but suddenly their lips touched and then there was nothing else for a long time.

 ***

 As it turned out, there was a small Christmas market in town. They took the car to town and wandered around aimlessly. The sun stood low and glittered on the snow. Dean and Cas looked at the goods that were laid out in the booths, choosing matching cups with printed moose for Sam and Eileen and a wood carving set for Jack. Night fell early and they got some mulled wine to warm them while they wandered around. Dean tasted every sweet food that he could get his hands on, until he felt slightly nauseous with all the sugar, but it was such a minor inconvenience that it was drowned out by the bliss of spending time with Castiel. They talked about the places they had visited, their favorite films and actors, which books they had read, and which bands Dean had seen live. Normal things. Everyday things. Dean could picture them living a domestic, calm, quiet life, just like this. He couldn´t wait.

In the end, they sat on a dock, looking out over Lake Michigan. They nursed their warm cups in one hand and Dean leaned his head on Cas shoulder. The reflections of the city lights and the half-moon glittered on the water. Dean sighed deeply and Castiel wrapped his arm around his shoulder. His voice was quiet when he asked:

“Are you happy?”

“Yeah. You?”

“Very.”

No more words were said. No more words were needed.

 ***

 The ball was supposed to start at  eight o´clock, so they returned to the car and parked it in sight of the town hall´s main entry. They shared a thermos with coffee and a blanket, huddling together against the cold. The radio played quietly in the background. For the most part they stayed silent, brief comments on the people entering the hall or about their plan the only conversations. When it got late, they left the car and lurked around the corner of the hall to be ready to go to work when the mood in the room changed and people left.

The music and chatter were audible, and they blew into their hands and stepping from one foot to the other to keep warm. Dean started to get tired and a bit cranky. The music had changed from lively rock and pop songs to something slower and cheesier and he was ready to complain when Castiel stretched out his hand. Dean stared at it blankly.

“Would you care to dance?”

“What? I can´t … Where did you learn to dance?”

Castiel shrugged. “I haven´t. But I´ve seen people do it and it doesn´t seem to be too hard. I don´t plan to dance a classic waltz, so, would you humor me?”

And he honest to goodness bowed down and offered his hand. Dean blushed and rolled his eyes, but he took Cas´ hand. The former angel smiled and pulled the hunter close. He wrapped his other hand around Dean´s middle and Dean placed his hand on Cas´ shoulder. They swayed to the sound of a slow, sweet song and Dean found himself immersed in the music and Cas´ touch and he closed his eyes. Castiel hummed along and they circled around with small steps. At some point, Dean leaned his head on Cas´ forehead and they stayed like that, dancing slowly and sharing the same breath, visible between their mouths.

“I love you.”

Dean felt Cas´ hand tighten around his. “I love you, too.”

They kept on dancing a while longer until the music genre changed again, indicating that people would either leave or stay until the early hours of the morning. Slowly, Dean pulled his hand from Cas´, kissing him chastely before he took a step back. He took a deep breath.

“I think it´s time.”

Castiel nodded. He pulled his machete and they set out to circle the streets around the town house.

In the end, it was fairly easy. They checked the dark streets, and kept an eye on several attendants of the party until they were home. It took no longer than an hour until they took  a turn into a dark alley and were met with the sight of a tall figure with glowing eyes that growled at them, lifting clawed hands, and launching itself at them. Dean took a step back and Castiel charged with the elegance of a lifetime of practice. He dodged the draugr´s swing and beheaded it with a forceful swing of his machete. Afterwards, they stayed still for a moment. Dean´s heartbeat hadn´t even picked up that much.

“So, that´s that I guess.”

Cas looked at him with his head tilted, his bloodied weapon still in hand. “Our last hunt.”

Suddenly, Dean was scared. Hunting was familiar. Hunting was what he´d done for his whole life. Everything else had always felt like a farce, a charade, playing domestic because it was what he´d been supposed to do. He didn´t even realize how Cas came closer, to wrapped up in his epiphany.

“Hey, Dean, look at me. We´ll figure it out. And as you said, we can keep track and help other hunters. Not everything has to change.”

Dean nodded. “I know. We make it up as we go, huh?”

“Exactly.”

A deep breath forced its way out of Dean´s no longer constricted chest. “Okay. I´m gonna get the car. We burn that son of a bitch and tomorrow, we´ll head home.”

Dark smoke rose over the sizzling, burning body of the draugr. Dean held Castiel´s hand. They waited until only ashes remained. Then, they made their way to the impala, without haste. They had time.

 ***

 Dean and Cas checked out of the motel at ten o´clock in the morning. They took turns driving, only pausing for gas and snacks. Castiel insisted on listening to a channel with Christmas carols when he drove, reminding Dean of the ancient rule he´d established himself:

“Driver picks the music, Dean.”

The hunter grumbled until “Driving home for Christmas” played on the radio. By the end of the day, even Castiel knew the lyrics by heart.

They held hands while driving and slept with their heads leaned against each other’s shoulders. When evening came, Dean cracked a joke about riding off into the sunset and they recalled their case in Dodge City. Castiel admitted how much he´d wanted to kiss Dean when he came back from the empty the first time. Dean admitted how long he´d been in love with Castiel.

When they parked the car in the garage, the clock jumped to midnight.

They smiled at each other and squeezed their hands once again before they left the car. Duffle bags over their shoulders, they entered the bunker and stopped in their tracks when they saw the library. There was a Christmas tree in the corner. Fairy lights everywhere. A sock for everyone hanging over the fireplace. A plate with cookies on the table, with a handwritten note from Sam: “Welcome home.”

Dean and Castiel took in the scenery. Then they turned towards each other. The lights around them glittered in their eyes.

“Merry Christmas, Cas.”

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

[insomniziam]

Analysis of the PR Relationship between Liam and Maya

Okay, Liam and Maya made their relationship official in September 2019 through Liam’s Instagram post:

(notice how there are only two points of contact on his behalf, the two fingers on her waist and their foreheads. Doesn’t come off very relationship-y to me. I can’t say for sure, but I wouldn’t be surprised if this were photo shopped) 

Conveniently, this news came to light a few days after the release of his new single at the time, Stack it Up (shocker, I know). And what did we get? The same thing that happened with Zigi:

Bringing attention to Liam’s new single and of course, the new up and coming model (sound familiar to you at all?)

Maya Henry

But who is Maya Henry? The first real news we ever get about her is due to her father spending a whopping 6 million dollars on her fifteenth birthday party back in 2016 (more on that later). But what does this prove? That her father is incredibly rich, and has no issues spending millions of dollars on a single night if it means getting his name in the papers. He hasn’t just done this with Maya, he spent another 4 million on his son’s 18th and another 4.5 million on his own 56th birthday, and both somehow made headlines (paid promo maybe?)

That’s not even the best part... They tried to do their own Kardashian style reality TV show but it flopped massively. 

(Literally the only place I could find it anywhere was dailymotion...)

They have a Facebook page, but most of the videos have been set to private on YouTube so you can’t watch pretty much anything on the page anyway. There’s probably on average 50 interactions per post (and that’s me being generous).

Maya started her own YouTube channel early 2018, but that didn’t gain any traction either (it’s currently sitting at 16K) and there are no videos on the page at all (I’m pretty sure she’s deleted them off, although I can’t find copies of them any where, probably because no one actually cared to download them).

I will admit, she was doing pretty decently before she was connected to Liam, had even done a few international covers for magazines like Elle Romania and Vogue Ukraine.

But Gigi had walked the New York Fashion runway at the age of 18, a feat Maya herself didn’t seem to be nearing. However, Gigi also has a lot of connections that no doubt helped her gain a following (her “friendship” with the Jenners, as well as her connections with Swift and her mean girl posse). 

(If ya’ll don’t see how this was a publicity stunt, I don’t know what to tell you)

But how does an increase of following help you career wise, isn’t about talent? You may ask, and I would have a hard time not chuckling at the question, because talent has nothing to do with it (Miss Gigi “I’m still learning how to cat walk” Hadid is a testament to that).

As for the answer, an increase in following leads to an increase of fans, which leads to an increased likelihood of more people buying the shit her name is attached to - makeup, accessories, clothing lines ect. - and increased viewership that have her (and her ‘best friends’) starring in. *cough* Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show *cough*. 

But one thing in particular that really stood out, was Gigi’s ‘relationship’ with one Zayn Malik... you see where this is going?

Why Liam?

Now, unlike Zayn, Liam didn’t really have any bad press he needed to distract the general public from. However, he pretty much only had three different talking points in interviews; ‘his son’, Cheryl and One Direction. Those three subjects no one really cared to listen to anymore, because it was the same bullshit over and over again. Enter new (but also extremely old) topic: a new girlfriend!

It gave the papers something new to talk about (although funnily enough, they would always end the article talking about Cheryl and her kid), someone Liam could use to promote himself a little more. So although the benefits were heavily leaning to her side, there still was something in it for Liam, and she had already been linked to him in the past, an easy set up.

Maya’s Age (this is where you’ll either feel really grossed out or extremely pissed, fair warning)

Now this is where shit gets hella shady. According to articles, Maya has been 19 since last year: 

Using the fact that Maya’s 15th birthday was in 2016 as according to this Daily Mail article detailing all the expenses and a little bit of quick math, it’s easy to see that she only turned 19 in February of this year.

Now, your eyebrows might be furrowed right now, and you may be asking why does her age matter?She’s still a legally consenting adult. However according to articles, Liam and Maya had actually met back in 2015 at a One Direction Meet and Greet:

Sound familiar at all?:

This shit has me feeling sick to my stomach (I did give you a fair warning) because this is the second time Liam has been linked in some way to what some could argue somewhat child grooming behaviour. Because not only did he meet her back in 2015, when she was actually 14 despite what the papers are trying to tell you she was 15, he apparently started dating her back in 2018, when she was 17 years old:

Realising their mistake, my guess is that Liam’s team tried their best to have her birthday changed a year earlier, so as to make people think they started dating when she was 18, to make their relationship more acceptable. But the damage had already been done, and when someone made a thread on their twitter pointing out this fact, some absolute idiot decided to use Liam’s twitter to try and discredit them:

Despite the fact that neither Liam or Maya were tagged in the thread, meaning that whoever was behind the keyboard would have had to go searching for it, especially since the thread probably only had a few hundred interactions before, they drew eyes to it. (The tinhat in me wants to believe that this was actually a smart move made by Liam to show people just how shady their relationship is, but I highly doubt that fact considering how creepy it makes him look 😒)

And, because people were smart enough to actually read through the thread, they weren’t buying what whoever was running the account at the time was selling:

It’s not a good look, but I guess any press is good press according to Liam’s team.

Conclusion

Maya and her family are crazy thirsty for attention. They tried to acquire that attention through spending millions of dollars on birthdays parties to gain headlines. Obviously not enough for them, they tried out their own reality TV show which somehow made it to season two before scrapping the whole thing entirely due to low ratings. Maya started a YouTube channel, it didn’t go as well as she hoped and then focused on Modelling full time. However she wasn’t climbing anywhere near as much as she would like, and since her father had no issues paying for celebrities in the past, probably had no issues with paying Liam’s team for him to play boyfriend, and try to recreate a Zigi situation.

Liam’s team saw this as an opportunity for a new subject to be brought up in interviews and headlines and decided to go for it. They fucked up with the age, tried to fix it and just made the situation worse, and hoped eventually everyone would just forget about it.

At least, that’s my best guess