#this is mainly for one mutual/friend but if anyone finds a song they like from this i'd be really happy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

comorbidfascination · 2 years ago

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Vincent: Second Chances

You and Nora return to Ambrose after almost six years, wondering at the eerie stillness.

warnings: nsfw, mutual masturbation

as always, please let me know if I have left out any relevant tags!

slasher masterlist here

The flooding from a particularly bad hurricane, coupled with the end of high school, made five years ago the time to leave Ambrose. You and Nora had remained in Louisiana, but the others were practically a world away. But college and new lives had come and gone. You were both aching to get back to your roots and see what had become of your tiny hometown. Technology hadn't been as advanced then, and so communication with the twins had been few and far between, but you were confident that Vincent was at least alive. Without cell phones, or even a stable landline connection, you mainly relied on letters; the last you had received from him was from almost two years prior. But the car was packed and Nora was fiddling with the radio in the passenger seat, just as nervous as you were to see what was left of Ambrose.

You followed familiar gravel roads through overgrown woods to find the town just as empty as you expected. The windows were down and you sang at the top of your lungs to 90s punk songs that were only enjoyable if you shouted along with them. Your best friend gripped her cane and grimaced at the noise level. The old pickup rolled to a stop in front of the house you grew up in. The two of you got out to see if anyone was around, eventually ambling over to the convenience store.

"Hello? Anyone home?" You brushed your hair out of your face and fiddled with your hearing aid like you always did when your hands needed to be occupied.

Nora sighed and poked her head into the back room, "Nobody. Let's try the museum."

"Good idea. If the boys are still here, that's where they'll be." Bo, Lester, and Vincent were set too deep in this town to be uprooted. Their mother's wax museum stood at attention in the middle of their little world, so if no one was home, Ambrose was truly empty.

As you both passed through the streets, there was an odd sense that nothing had changed. A few windows had lights on, but there was no one else outside. The whole place was holding its breath, but you couldn't tell yet whether it would blow you out or suck you in. The massive doors of the museum swung open readily, and you found solace in the quiet squeak of the floorboards. The knot in your gut reminded you of how long it had been since you'd talked to Vincent. Would he be happy to see you?

The thump of Nora's cane was muffled by how full each room was. There was nowhere for the sound to echo when wax people and furniture were displayed in every available space. You peered into the eyes of one statue, amazed at how detailed they were. Vincent had certainly surpassed his mother, though you didn't dare utter the idea in a place so haunted by her memory. She had died before you left, and the grief the brothers held even seeped into the letters you received from Vincent in the handful of years to come. In here, the feeling of another time preserved was heavier and achingly obvious.

The sharp bark of a dog made you both jump, and a blur of black and white zoomed into view. You immediately knelt down to pet it while Nora chuckled at the surprise. The pitbull wagged its whole backside as you rubbed its fur and cooed praise for being such a good guard dog. Your friend tapped your foot with her cane so you'd look up at the man in the doorway. Following the little sweetheart was the man you'd come to see in the first place. He had filled out some, but the same curtain of black hair fell over his mask as he froze in place at the sight of you.

"Hey, Vince. Long time no see." Your voice was gentle, as were your movements, when you stood to greet him properly.

He didn't move, and Nora cleared her throat to say, "We would've called ahead if we had the number." She was more sore about the letters stopping than you were.

Eye flicking back and forth between the two ghosts of his past made flesh and blood, he choked out a sound like a punctured squeaky toy and bolted. For such a large, imposing man, he could really run when he wanted to.

You squawked indignantly, turning to Nora, who just shook her head. "Damn scaredy-cat. Might as well go up to the house to see if the others are still kickin'."

Birdie had stayed with Lester, which didn't surprise anyone. When you opened the door, she gasped and crushed you both in a hug. "I've missed y'all so much!" She swung you back and forth before setting you back on solid ground. "Come in, come in!"

Ushered into the Sinclair family home, you marveled at how utterly identical it was to your memories. Bo shouted at Birdie for making a racket, freezing like his twin when he saw Nora. "Hey, mama."

She sighed with a smile and went over to hug him, setting her cane against the wall to do so. Those two had always understood actions more than words. You grinned when Bo finally got over himself and hugged her back. You glanced away when you heard Nore sniffle, looking for an easy exit, as she hated to be seen crying. Birdie gestured for you to follow her into the kitchen and whispered, "Les will be here tonight after his shift. Have you seen Vincent yet?"

You chuckled ruefully and rubbed the back of your neck. "Ran into him at the museum, but he wasn't in the mood for a reunion."

Your childhood friend frowned and led you over to the basement steps. "Well, he's in there. I hope you don't come up 'til he apologizes, at least. He ain't mad or anything, he's just..."

"He's Vincent. I get it." You patted her shoulder reassuringly and trotted down creaky steps to his studio. He definitely heard you, but remained half-hidden behind a nearly finished wax statue. You walked around it without hesitation. "Didn't think I was so scary. What's up with you?"

He huffed, strands of hair blowing away from his mask. With a few hand signs, he told you, 'Surprised, not scared.'

"Then why are you hidin' from me, angel?"

Vincent took a moment to compose himself and signed, 'Don't know what else to do.' He had always been the type to run from his feelings, you supposed you should've expected this.

"No more of that, alright? I'm here to see you, y'know." You stepped even closer, daring him to look you in the eye. "Haven't been able to stop thinkin' about ya since I left. What's my Vincent been up to?" Hearing you call him yours made him just as flustered as it did years ago. He shrugged and gestured vaguely to the statue. You leaned in for a closer look, noting the incredible detail work of the eyes yet again. "It's amazing, angel. You've only gotten better." As you turned back, a flash of movement caught your attention. It almost seemed like the eyes had flickered, but it must have been a trick of the light. You'd rather look at Vincent anyway.

Noticing your double-take, he gently took your hand and led you to his bedroom next door. Unfortunately, the painting leaning on the wall was even more conspicuous. With a soft gasp, you rushed forward to admire your own likeness in loving brush strokes. "Do you still have the ones I did of you?" Your happiness was near blinding with the way you beamed.

Vincent nodded and gestured to the studio. 'Hanging up by my desk.' You would've had to turn to see them in the corner. And he kept it dark in there, too. He stepped forward when you faced him again, summoning the courage to relax in your presence.

You swung your arms around his neck and pulled him down to whisper, "Been getting off to me even when I'm not here, huh?" He froze, and you tightened your hold so he couldn't back away. "Making me wish I'd never left."

Vincent slowly placed his hands on your waist. He still wasn't over his fear of hurting you - the things he and his brothers had done in the interim only made his heart pound faster at the thought of you realizing how horrible he was.

As if you could feel his emotions radiating off of him, you leaned in to kiss his neck and murmur, "You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna show me what I been missing?" He choked out a whimper and gave you no other warning before he pushed you down on the bed. You sat up before he could do much else. "Easy, now. Don't get ahead of yourself - I wanna see what you were doing with just that painting in here first."

Vincent's fingers trembled as they undid his jeans and pushed them down with his boxers. He would do anything just then to hurry you toward touching him. A hiss left his lips when he took his aching cock in hand.

You leaned in to kiss his mask. "You keep it on for this?" He shook his head, but made no move to take it off. "Can I?"

His breathing was ragged under the wax and insecurity couldn't overpower the need to feel your lips on his skin. Vincent nodded and closed his eyes to focus on the sensation of your fingers delicately removing the mask and brushing his hair back. His own hand faltered on his cock. Looking straight at you without a barrier was more intimate than letting you see him masturbate. You cupped his face in your warm palms and littered it with kisses. Vincent whined and tried to kiss you back, but you weren't done with him yet. Your mouth descended upon his neck as you tugged at his sweater insistently. He took it off as quickly as possible and used the diversion to pull you into a more passionate kiss. Your hum of approval sent shockwaves down his spine.

When you had to break away for air, you took a moment to admire all of him laid bare just for you. "Gorgeous." You sat back against the wall and gestured at his lap. "Go on, now. I didn't tell you to stop."

His cock twitched at your command and drooled when Vincent started pumping it again. Touching himself had never felt so good. You took your time pulling off your own clothes, forcing him to stew in anticipation for every inch of supple skin. You sighed happily and sat back down to watch. He was panting with the effort of holding back, but he wanted to cum inside you, not all over his own hand. He gave you a pleading look and guided your fingers to touch his. You smiled sweetly, but the glint in your eye told him he wasn't getting what he wanted just yet. "Not this time, baby. You can pick where you cum next."

Vincent groaned, but kept dutifully pleasuring himself until he couldn't stop the impending orgasm. His cock wept over his hand to dribble onto the sheets. You used your shirt to wipe him off. "Oops. Guess I'll have to wear yours when we're done." Your smug grin was gone the second he pounced to pin your wrists to the bed. His body completely shadowed yours as he loomed over you. The grin replaced itself. "Your turn, handsome."

He wasted no time in hoisting your legs onto his hips, cock still plenty firm against his thigh. Vincent's eye held such adoration as he shoved roughly inside you. With a loud moan, you grabbed at his broad shoulders to pull him closer. He set a brutal pace as you gladly let your thoughts slip away; you wouldn't need them for a while. Feeling your pussy clench around his cock only made him want more, so he pushed your legs further and curled over your body. Thighs nearly touching your chest, you only got louder as the new angle found the perfect spot. You cried his name as everything went white. Seconds later, you returned to the world with Vincent still pistoning into your pussy like he'd never fuck you again.

"I'm not leaving, baby." Your slurred words did nothing to calm him, but rather made his desperation turn into excitement. You wanted him enough to stay in this ghost town - he had to make sure you'd never regret that decision. Vincent kissed your forehead and ground his hips into yours as he came undone. You rubbed at your clit fiercely and followed soon after. He kissed your lips again with enough tenderness to forgive the soreness that was beginning to set in. When he pulled out, you pointed to the cum dripping from your aching cunt. "Clean up your mess."

Vincent tilted your hips up so he could lean in and nip your inner thigh. You gathered his hair and held it out of the way as he mouthed at your lower lips and swirled his tongue around your sensitive clit. Soft sounds graced his ears from above as he lapped up all the evidence of his orgasm. When he was finished, you leaned down to drag him into another kiss, then moved over and patted the bed. "I'm ready for a nap. You wanna stay and cuddle?"

He laid at your side and wrapped himself around you, but you didn't mind the sticky feeling so much; he was worth it. Vincent stroked your back as footsteps clunked overhead. No one would bother the two of you down here. Especially not if they heard any part of your reunion.

#vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #slashers #slasher x reader #house of wax 2005

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yousta · 1 year ago

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Hi, you can call me Yume Yousta, or Jacob.

A little about me

I'm a 23-year-old warehouse worker residing in Indianapolis. I have aspirations in school, music, body improvement, and love.

Themes and things you'll see on this blog may include :

Obsessive/overprotective soft yandere/lovesick one-shots, and monologues. Poems and lyrics. Song recommendations. Personal vents, and rants, and ironic self-deprecating commentary.

Disclaimer: these scenes in no way depict real-life scenarios. Nor is it an endorsement of any extreme or violent behavior. All content here is made for people struggling to find love in this sick twisted world.

You've been through enough. Come in, I promise you're safe here.

Intro

Most of these expressions are just me speaking my love into the world. They aren't necessarily made for any one person in particular, (Mumbles) Well, maybe they are, just for you.

Yume as in if you put you and me together ❤️ (it's not supposed to be Japanese (even though I am a weeb)) Yousta is slang for Youster. A word passed down from my lineage of divine beings. It roughly translates to a very empathic and caring person.

So a little more about me..

I'm kind of all over the place, bouncing off the walls all disorganized. I apologize if it's hard to follow but I'll try my best.

Love

Taken to @your-thorn ❤️

School

I'm going to school for IT to hopefully get into some form of cybersecurity. Once I've made some money for myself, I'd like to go back and become a physical therapist or chiropractor. Mainly due to my interest in biomechanics and anatomy.

Hobbies

Music

I love love love music. I'd probably also consider being an audio engineer or some sort of performing musician as a career. It's my favorite pastime. I like to study and compose, as well as listen. I've been pretty into making digital music as of late, but I still play my keyboard and guitar.

Body improvement

I grew up with a wannabe bodybuilder brother. Lol which when I was younger, inspired me to get into the boxing gym. I'm not going to make it seem like I am or want to become something physically extraordinary like my brother, but I'm pretty fit as a result of growing up with him. I used to box but I got worried about my hands and brain. Now I just hit the gym.

Poetry and writing

I was never formally taught to write anything. If you have any tips, please

The dream

I just want a better life. For me, and my family. What's all this planning for? No short of world domination. Call me greedy because I do want it all. A mansion with my future darling, and our Yandere friends/family. It'd be so uptight. Everyone with laser focus and mutual respect. I've found so much light in being here, I really couldn't imagine living without you guys in my feed every day. So many of you I genuinely love from the bottom of my heart. It's what makes me happy, just seeing true love in the world.

Outro

Please be aware, that I've struggled with loneliness and even isolation throughout my life. This will affect how I interact so please verbalize any discomfort.

My mbti is ENFP-T

DNI list: anyone racist, transphobic, pedophiles, xenophobic, or anything mean cause it's only wholesome, soft, gentle, and nice vibes here 🥺🤚 oh and please don't DM unless 18+

Enjoy your stay, love you so much

#lovesick #actually obsessive #actually yandere #yandere vent #yandere coping #yandere irl #irl yandere #yandere girl #yandere boy #obsessive #soft yandere

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author-a-holmes · 2 years ago

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Shuffle your favorite playlist and post the first five songs that come up. Then copy/paste this ask to your favorite mutuals. 🎶🎧💜💙🤗

Is it sad that, despite being best friends, I read "send this to your favourite mutuals" and my instant reaction was:

*Pleading Face Emoji* I'm a favourite?!

Rofl!

ANYWAYS My defunct brain patterns aside, I fucking love sharing my playlists. I know you know this, so thank you for the ask <3

I've not gone with a Work In Progress Specific playlist, mainly because Changeling doesn't have one, and Darkling doesn't have enough songs on it yet, so instead I've chosen my general playlist for 2023. It includes all my current favourite songs, and any new music I find this year that I want to add to my playlist soup.

If I'm looking for a new song for the next chapter, this is the playlist I shove on shuffle.

So without futher ado, 5 songs beneath the cut...

Taylor Swift - Style

I don't know why, but ther way this one is sung just sounds super flirty, and gives old school, silver screen, holywood love story vibes.

youtube

You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye And I got that red lip classic thing that you like And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style You got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt And when we go crashing down, we come back every time 'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style

2. Nickelback - Someday

One of my favourites of theirs. Which is saying a lot because there's not many Nickelback songs I DIS-like. But I love how the song lyrics make you think one thing, and then you watch the video and it's even more heartbreaking and tragic than it sounds. It really made my appreciate Chad Kroeger as a lyracist.

youtube

Well, I'd hope that since we're here anyway We could end up saying Things we've always needed to say So we could end up staying Now the story's played out like this Just like a paperback novel Let's rewrite an ending that fits Instead of a Hollywood horror

3. Demi Lovato - Heart Attack

I cannot believe this one shuffled onto the list of over 350 songs I'm using. It's my THEME song for Reilly Mosswolf from my book, Stolen. When I need to get back into Reilly or Stella's headspace I'll listen to this song or Stella's Theme "Fight Song" by Rachel Platten.

youtube

You make me glow But I cover up, won't let it show So I'm putting my defenses up 'Cause I don't wanna fall in love If I ever did that, I think I'd have a heart attack

4. Blake Shelton - Honey Bee

Bloody Hell. My love of cheesy country music is showing here. I'm a closet romantic and Country Music really touches on that romantic streak in my, particularly Blake Shelton's songs. Plus the music video is cute as fuck.

You'll be my sunny day I'll be your shady tree You'll be my honeysuckle I'll be your honey bee. Yeah, that came out a little country But every word was right on the money And I got you smilin' honey right back at me

5. Kelly Clarkson - Stronger (What Doesn't Kill You)

You can't do much better for a power balland than Clarkson, and her lyrics are usually on the empowering side. This isn't one of my favourites from her, but it always manages to put me in a kickass kinda mood.

youtube

Thanks to you I got a new thing started Thanks to you I'm not the broken hearted Thanks to you I'm finally thinkin' 'bout me You know in the end the day you left was just my beginning

I've got over 350 songs on this list, so for anyone additionally curious about my music tastes, I'll link the full playlist HERE.

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sad0nion · 4 years ago

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ok so i said i was gonna do it and i did. here's a list of my current fave kpop songs, A-Z. i REALLY TRIED to narrow it down but it's still A LOT of songs oops

Bolded songs are ones i think are really underrated and need more love bc they are fantastic

Italicized songs are important/meaningful to me in some way

and i made this into a spotify playlist because i could: LINK

also there are two songs i linked youtube videos for because i couldn't find em on spotify :(

Any - Stray Kids | Anpanman - BTS | All this Fxxking Time - NELL | All Night - Astro | AYA - MAMAMOO

Caffeine - Eyedi | Can't You See Me? - TXT | Celebrate - ATEEZ | Coloring Book - Oh My Girl | Crazy - 4 Minute

Eclipse - Moonbyul | Egoist - Olivia Hye(Loona) | %%(Eung Eung) - Apink | Euphoria - BTS | Everyday - MAMAMOO

Jazz Bar - Dreamcatcher | Jelly - Red Velvet Irene & Seulgi | Jenga - Heize | Jump - BTS

Kazino - Bibi | Killing Me - iKON | Kiss Kiss - SHINee | Kiss Me If You Can - The Boyz | Ko Ko Bop - EXO

N/S - Stray Kids | Naughty - Red Velvet Irene & Seulgi | Naughty Boy - Pentagon | New Heros - Ten | Nonstop - Oh My Girl

Quasi Una Fantasia - The Boyz(cover of Shangri La by VIXX) | Question - Stray Kids

Regular - NCT 127 | Reveal - The Boyz | Revolution - AleXa | Rhythm Ta - iKON | Rooftop - N.Flying

U & Me - Hyuna | UGH! - BTS | Uh-Oh - (G)I-DLE | Uncover - Red Velvet Irene & Seulgi

Valkyrie - ONEUS | Violeta - IZ*ONE | ViViD - Heejin(Loona) | Voices - Stray Kids | Very Very Very - I.O.I

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

YESSIR - 3YE | You In Me - KARD | You're the Best - MAMAMOO

Zeppelin - Primary & Anda | ZigZag - ONEUS | ZzZz - MAMAMOO | 00:00 (Zero O'Clock) - BTS

#kpop #i tried really hard to make this diverse too #like i could make a list with just stray kids and mamamoo but that's no fun #this is mainly for one mutual/friend but if anyone finds a song they like from this i'd be really happy #a talking onion

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kaeyas-beloved · 4 years ago

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hiii! i hope you don't mind that i'm dropping off a request 🧡 okay, so can i have some headcanons of class 1a and their gn! classmate who sometimes sends them random photos of things they like? like for example, they'll send a photo of something sparkly to aoyama and say "hey! i figured you might like this" and for jiro, they'll text a link to an album they think she might like and say "hey! [artist name] released this album, and i think you might enjoy it! :)"

Pairing -- Class 1-A x GN!Reader

Warning(s) -- Light Swearing (it’s Baku)

Note -- Hellooo! I don’t mind at all <3 Thank you for requesting, I really like this idea because I think it’s really cute & wholesome! I hope I did your request justice & interpreted it right (and if I didn’t, I’m sorry & don’t be afraid to tell me!)

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Class 1-A w/ a Classmate That Randomly Messages Them Things That They May Like

In the beginning it was a very pleasant surprise to all of them

Waking up and finding a text from a friend/classmate with a link or picture of a store front with one of their interests??? SIGN THEM UP PLEASE

In all honesty it’s something that none a single one of them experienced

No one really thought about them that much

Quickly (as in like the span of a month) it became a weekly thing

Don't think for a moment it ever got old though, oh no, there was always the sense of joy when a text popped up from (y/n)

Sometimes it’s completely unprompted, just a simple, out of context message with a picture of a cat surrounded in sparkles (for Aoyama) or cute bird pictures (for Tokoyami - who will respond with a simple thank you but is actually internally calling it cute. He can’t tell them that though, bird boi has to keep up his edgy appearance)

Other times there’s a lead up, a ‘hey, I’m at *blank* and I found this ---

(Y/N): Hey! I’m in front of (insert store) and there’s this All Might poster

*sends picture* Do you have it? You seem like you’re a fan of him and I thought I’d ask in case you didn’t :)

Mido: iorghirgtnhjzvd ehiegankage

> NO I DON’T HAVE IT THANK YOU FOR TELLING ME!!!

*One for All’s his way to the store*

They’d text the girls pieces of clothes or shoes that they think they might like

And if any of them end up buying it they’ll immediately text (y/n) with a picture of them wearing it (or find them and show them in person), commenting about how much they love it, thanking them from telling them about it and adding on that they have good tastes in clothes

Some out right call them sweet for thinking about them

At least one of them has crushed (y/n) in a bear hug because of this (probably Mina tbh)

(Y/N): *sends picture + link to a store that sells the blackest of black eye liner*

Baku: …

> Thanks dumbass...

Some other things that they’ve sent to the others includes: a sale/discount on cold soba for Todo, tank tops with encouraging messages on them for Kiri, earrings for Momo, a bangin’ pair of headphones for Jirou

Todo: Oh... thank you for telling me... Would you like to go with me to get some?

Kiri: Woah! Those are so mainly, thanks for showing them to me!

Jirou’s also been able to discover new songs and bands through (y/n)

They’ve sent Iida book recommendations

(Y/N): I saw you reading *book* - if you enjoy it then I recommend *another book*, I think you’d really enjoy it :)

Iida: Why thank you (Y/N)-san! I’ll look into it!

They’ve got folders for each classmate with things that they think they’ll like on their phone too

Memes, funny quotes, outfits, you name it, it’s probably in there

And after some time, everyone started to return the gesture, sending them things that they would like

Now, it’s a mutual thing that anytime someone spots something while browsing Instagram (or whatever) or while walking around the mall that they’ll send it to those that they believe would find interest in it :)

It doesn��t stop even after they finish school, sometimes, out of habit either (y/n) or another classmate will send someone something

Old habits die hard huh?

It’s a great way to stay in contact after UA though - so that’s a bonus! And for that reason it makes every Class 1-A student grateful that they caught on to their classmates kind hearted hobby :)

Also, as a little, kind of unrelated tidbit - everyone would throw hands with anyone that hurts you because they view you as an angle for thinking of them so much and indulging them in their interests

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I hope you enjoyed and I’m really sorry if this wasn’t what you meant/wanted T-T

I do take requests (but be sure to check my bio for request status first)!

[Masterlist]

[BnHA Masterlist]

#bnha class 1a #class 1a x reader #bnha #bnha class 1-a #mha #mha class 1a #class 1-a #class 1-a x reader #class 1-a headcanons

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bopbopstyles · 4 years ago

Photo

MUCH TOO MUCH

RATING: R/smut (some sex, some alcohol/drugs, cursing, the usual)

WORD COUNT: 9.7k

CATEGORIES: college!harry, roommate!harry

MASTERLIST | ASK ME QUESTIONS

a/n: this is my entry for my beloved @stellarboystyles‘s 3 year anniversary challenge!!!!! it was so fun to write these two and i hope you like it! a bit on the shorter side, but delicious all the same. come talk to me about them when you’re done, i want to hear what you think! (also this was named for the song by lennon stella in case u were curious lol)

Currently, he had you pressed against the wall of a house party, his fingers clenched in the hem of your skin-tight crop top, a knee propped between your legs, and his lips attached to your neck. Your hands were threading through his hair, those locks that curled at the ends and you’d always thought about tugging on, and now that you had the chance you weren’t passing it by.

“Fuck, Harry,” you mumbled, your head spinning from the alcohol in your veins and the feeling of Harry this close to you. To be completely honest, you knew what was happening was probably not the best idea. But considering how many cups of jungle juice you’d had and the fact that you were definitely crossed, you frankly couldn’t find a care in the world.

Harry and Y/N live together and one night they hook up and things get complicated

pls reblog and share with your friends 💕

Harry living with you wasn’t planned. At least, not in the way where you guys were best friends and decided to live together way. More in the way of neither of you had anyone else to live with and had the same price range kind of way. You happened to be at a mutual friend’s party mid-way through your sophomore spring and you’d mentioned in passing that you were looking for a roommate, and Harry’s head had popped up.

Somewhere along the way, though, you’d decided you quite liked living with him.

Even if he was obnoxious sometimes, was absolutely shit at doing chores, and couldn’t properly load the dishwasher.

He had a charm to him, you had to admit. He was good at getting on your good side—texting you when you were on the library and he was just leaving to head over, asking if you wanted anything to snack on. One time, he’d brought you a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and a bag of Flaming Hot Cheetos without being asked because he knew you hadn’t eaten in hours and needed your favorite foods.

His charms were what made you overlook the nights that he had people over and you had to listen to the sound of his bed frame hitting the wall, or had to creep into the bathroom in the early hours of the morning before he and whoever he’d brought back woke up, pretending to not even live in your apartment for fear of being embarrassed. Although, you never quite knew what you should be embarrassed about—but you were. Maybe it was because you frequently ended up listening to his sounds and trying not to think about how good he sounded or wondering what it was like to be in bed with him.

But that wasn’t something you would tell anyone, not even your friends who pestered you about what it was like living with Harry. Harry, the party-goer who always had three types of hard liquor in your kitchen but was also your go-to person to edit your papers and help you study for exams. Harry, who was your partner in crime on a night out and on a night in, someone who you could be yourself with no matter the context. It was something you’d never expected from him, but now that you had it, you couldn’t image losing it.

Which was why the current situation you were in was not the best.

Besides, it wasn’t like you hadn’t literally dreamed of this happening. In fact, you wanted this with every fiber of your being. You just didn’t have your brain stopping you now.

His tongue danced up the column of your neck, dipping into the crevice under your ear and his lips formed a circle on your skin and pulled gently, your fingers tugging on the strands of his hair. Your heart was beating wildly and so was his—you could feel it against your body—or maybe that was the thrum of the bass? You weren’t sure. When he tugged on your earlobe you wrapped your hands in the bottom of his graphic t-shirt, some random streetwear company that he was obsessed with lately and you thought was weird, but didn’t comment on.

One of your legs slid up his, ankle hooking around his knee and pulling his pelvis into yours, and the surprised grunt that left Harry’s mouth made you smile. “Y/N,” he groaned, fingers pressing harder into your skin. “What are you doing?”

“I’d ask you the same,” you answered, a devilish smile on your lips that Harry kissed away, his teeth tugging on your bottom lip and pulling your jaw down just enough so that he could earn access. It was brutal, kissing him. And not because it was bad, but because it was so good and you’d robbed yourself of this for a year and a half.

Your lips intertwined and fought for dominance, Harry’s sliding between yours and sucking and pulling just enough for you to move closer for more. Your wrists ended up behind his neck, holding him close to you, and you used the pressure to gain an advantage, grinding in his hips and kissing him with a passion burning in your heart.

Harry, meanwhile, was losing his fucking mind. He’d been thinking of this forever, and somehow tonight’s combination of alcohol and weed had led you two here: to a position that neither of your quite knew how it started, but you weren’t stopping it. In fact, Harry caged you in, his hands moving from your body to wall behind you, palms pressed to the worn white paint. He didn’t want to lose you, to lose this moment, to pretend like it never happened. Instead, he wanted to keep you tight against him, to memorize how it felt when the heel of your boots dragged along the inside seam of his denim jeans, the warmth spreading across his neck when you gently scratch at his skin as he suckled on your bottom lip and kissed a line across your jaw. He wanted to remember the sound of your soft breaths in his ears, how they increased in tempo as he sucked a hickey onto your neck, doubling his effort when you didn’t move to stop him. He’d seen you with them before and now that you were his—at least for the night—he wanted to give you one to remember him by.

Not that you could forget him. Not with Some Kind of Drug pounding in the speakers, his hips grinding into yours in the low lighting, his teeth nipping at your skin as you exhaled his name and a curse. He was unforgettable, that Harry Styles. Especially when he had your gripping his skin through his shirt, desperate for something to hold onto as he pushed you higher and higher into the clouds, your mind a haze of just nothing but him.

Harry pulled away a hair, mainly because he was getting tired of just having you against a wall with people everywhere—he either wanted to move this into a private space or call this off. Although he didn’t really want the latter, not really. That was only if you didn’t want him. But from the way you stared at him as he created a half foot of distance between you, your chest heaving, lace edge of your bra peeking out from underneath your cropped tank top, he didn’t think that’s what you wanted.

“Do you want to stay or go?” He asked, one of his hands lingering at the wall next to you and the other moving to move a piece of your hair out of your face.

“Go,” you answered, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt. “If—if you want to.”

He didn’t even take a breath before he answered, “Yeah, I want to.”

Which was how you two ended up making out in the Uber back to your apartment, you straddling his lap and twisting over him as he kissed you, his hands cupping your ass. Neither of you were sober enough to think about the fact that you were in someone else’s car, but then again, neither of you would probably care. Especially when you sucked on the edge of Harry’s jaw and he tugged your hips down on his and groaned low and rough in your ear, the sound making you smile against his skin.

The radio was playing the background, but in the haze you didn’t hear anything, all you could take in was Harry: his touch, his smell, the soft sounds he made as you moved on him, the feeling of his jeans against your tights-clad skin. It was chilly out and you had a thin pair of stockings on, sheer enough for your skin to show through, but enough to give you a bit of protection from the nip of the cold. His hands had already rucked up the edge of your favorite leather skirt, and your bra was poking out of the top of your cropped tank top that was tight over the swell of your breasts.

You were a sight in Harry’s eyes, something he couldn’t get enough of. Even though he lived with you, saw you in every outfit, especially the ones involving mismatched sweats and tired eyes, he never thought you were anything other than beautiful. Sometimes a bit rough around the edges, but who wasn’t? But now, with you like this, on top of him, he didn’t know if he’d ever seen you quite this gorgeous. This delicious, even though he hated describing people that way. But how else could he describe you when you stared down at him, lips red from his kisses and eyes blazing for him, chest heaving and cleavage demanding his attention. His hands couldn’t stop curving over your legs, smoothing up and down your thighs. It was sin, he decided, how he felt right now, because he couldn’t stop the spiral of thoughts in his brain.

The things he wanted to do to you.

The things he wanted you to do to him.

The things he wanted to see.

The things he wanted you to see.

The things he wanted to hear.

The things he wanted you to hear.

The things he wanted to feel.

The things he wanted you to feel.

It was like a freight train running through his head, all of the images and thoughts and concepts barreling into his thoughts. It made the swirl of your hips over his and the way you curled your fingers into the thin fabric covering his shoulders particularly hard to resist.

Realistically, the drive to your shared off-campus apartment wasn’t that long, but in your heads, it seemed like ages. Ages of waiting for a bed and privacy, ages of waiting to shed layers and know what endless bare skin looked like. So when your driver arrived at your building, you pushed open the door, narrowly missing banging your head on the roof of the car.

Harry chuckled as he tumbled out after you, thanking the driver and wrapping his arm around your waist. You wasted no time before you curled your arm around him and danced your fingers up his opposite side, your lips sucking delicately on the fabric of his t-shirt closest to you. It made Harry’s eyes flutter shut and his breath jump.

Was this what you were always like? This was the thing about this situation—you two knew one another, but not like this. You’d never made out in the back of an Uber or made out on your doorstep while one of you fumbled for the keys like you were now, or felt your hands dig into exposed skin and singe of hot breath on your neck. This was new territory, and perhaps if you both weren’t quite so drunk you would’ve stopped to talk about it.

But instead, Harry was leading you to his bedroom with your legs around his waist and your fingers in his hair, his lips crawling up your throat, walking blindly because he knew the way.

The thing about hooking up with someone you’d been close friends with for over a year was that there wasn’t a layer of awkwardness because you didn’t know the person. Instead, it was a hint of unassuredness whenever clothes started coming off, a hint of awe, but nothing uncomfortable. You’d never felt quite this comfortable with someone, in fact. You’d never trusted someone you hooked up with quite as much as you trusted Harry. And he felt the same way. When you pushed his shirt up his torso and scratched your nails softly down his skin he had never felt so alive, so full of desire.

It was why he fell back on his bed and let you stand between his knees in a desperate attempt to get your clothes off so he could feel your bare skin. He’d been waiting all night to see you—to finally see you—and now that he had you, he didn’t want to let you go.

“They’re tights,” you mumbled against his lips when he tried to pull on the material on your legs, a chuckle leaving your mouth.

“I know,” he replied, smirking. “Not an idiot.”

“Never said you were.” You stepped away, deciding you could do this part by yourself with more ease, and unzipped your leather skirt, the zip down the front meaning it was easy access, and let the material fall to the ground. Harry’s eyes swept up your legs and to the place where the band of your tights dug into your waist, gaze flaming black with desire. Then, you hooked your fingers in the tight band and tugged it down, peeling the thin material off of your skin, hopping on one foot to get them off your feet.

Harry resisted the urge to laugh, and instead reached out to hold you steady, a smile winding onto your face from the action. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you answered, standing up straight in just your purple underwear and your shirt and bra. His hands held fast to your hips, palms curving around your skin and gaze dancing up your body. And when you pulled your tight shirt up and over your heads, leaving you in nothing but your bra and panties, his heart about stopped.

You had on a set that didn’t match, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stop looking at your breasts—it was cliche, that he loved boobs, but how could he not? Especially when you were breathing this fast and looking at him like that and you were wearing a red bra that barely held you in. How as he supposed to not lose his goddamned mind?

“What?” You asked, stepping back in between his legs, hands falling to his shoulders, sliding up the slope to cup his neck.

“You—you just,” he choked out, the words rough and dry in his mouth. “You’re so gorgeous.”

You didn’t know what to say, so you just moved. You kissed him, lips caught between his, and pulled at his shirt, tugging it up until he shifted back to tug it off his body and let it fall to the ground. You stopped thinking, stopped using any sense in your body, and instead just felt. Felt how he made your skin sing and your body thrum with pleasure, how he made the worries at the back of your head fall away with each pass of his hands, focused on the way he kissed across your clavicle and sighed when you harshly gripped his hair. You let yourself drown in those feelings because you knew if you used your head that somehow you would succumb to your fears and lose this moment, and that was the utter last thing you wanted.

Instead, you wanted to drown in him.

And he felt the same way. He fell back onto the duvet and took you with him, flipping you onto your back so that your hair was pressed against the pillowcase, a cheap one from Target he’d brought at the beginning of the year that you’d convinced him was a good color. You looked up at him with awe and temptation in your irises, and Harry took only a minute to rip off his jeans and his t-shirt, leaving his boxers on only because he didn’t want to seem like an asshole. Then, he was back hovering over you, his curls falling into his face, your fingers reaching up to push them back.

A smile drifted across your face and he dropped to his elbows, peppering kisses down your neck and falling back to his knees as he made his way down your body. When he heard a chuckle rip from your throat, he glanced up at you. “Distracted?”

“No,” you said, poking his temple. “Thinking about how when we first met I teased you about how you must fuck girls with your snapback on because you wore it so much.”

Harry hummed a laugh into your chest, dimples peeking out and you thought it was downright adorable. “I was a bit of a whore when we met, huh?”

“Maybe a bit,” you answered, a teasing lilt to your words that Harry knew well. “Don’t worry, you’re only just a bit less of one now. Didn’t lose that title, I don’t think.”

“That’s a bit rude,” he said, sucking harshly at your nipple through your bra. “Bullying me while I’m tryin’ to go down on you.”

“Is that what you’re doing? Couldn’t tell since you hadn’t quite made it there yet.”

You were taunting him like you always did, the alcohol in your veins making it more sexual in nature, and Harry loved it. It made it feel like the two of you, not like something that would be completely forgotten in the morning. “Am I too slow for you?” He asked, scratching gently at your sides and making you squirm as he fell farther down the length of your body. “I was trying to take my time but if you’re impatient, then—“

“Harry, please, fuck, just—“ A gasp fell from parted lips when he finally licked at the hood of your clit, your hands gripping his hair within another breath. Your words were nothing but pants, dry and heaving sounds that filled Harry’s head. He’d heard you through the walls before—it was a college-priced apartment, after all. Thick walls weren’t exactly something that fit in your price range. But hearing you this close, this sharp, the sound this crisp in his ears, it was making his hips rut into the duvet. It was his wet dream actualized, as horrible as that sounded.

Yes, he had wet dreams about you.

Yes, he knew that was probably horrible.

And no, he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad about it.

Your mind, on the other hand, was blank. Like, literally blank. That was the thing about sex when you were drunk, all the thinking and nerves and walls dropped away and you just let your body feel. There wasn’t that niggling thought at the back of your head that questioned if you looked good like this, you just let go and let your back arch and hips circle and arms quiver. Your hands drifted from the duvet to his hair and then the pillow behind your head, trying to figure out what would hold your grip best as Harry absolutely devoured you.

So far, you hadn’t settled on your favorite thing to hold on to, but his hair was in the running for first place. The sight of his eyes peeking up at yours, an image you only got every once in a while because you could barely keep your eyes open to look at him, was enough to send you spiraling. But you were trying to hold yourself together because you didn’t want this to end. You’d just gotten him like this and you didn’t want the night to be over because who knew what the morning held?

Thankfully, though, your drunk mind didn’t let those disruptive thoughts linger. Instead, they focused on the orgasm rising as he curled his tongue over your panties and then under them, the heat of his breath on your sensitive skin making you moan deeply, his ring-clad fingers pressing into your hips. Harry loved watching you almost as much as he loved tasting you, doing this to you. There was a power in oral sex, Harry couldn’t deny that, and he loved it not because of the power it gave him, but the gratification of making someone else feel good. He loved watching women finish, and you were no different. In fact, you were blowing every woman before you out of the water.

Maybe that was the alcohol talking. He couldn’t tell. But either way, when he sucked on your clit and you squeaked out his name, he didn’t know how he could do this with another person for at least a month or two. Getting you out of his head would be his full-time job for a while, especially while living with you.

Your fingers threaded through his brown curls, eyes fluttering open, mind swirling and trying to focus somehow on the sight below you and the feeling swirling through your body, a tightness spreading up your legs, your toes curling and feet pressing down towards the duvet, scrabbling for something to hold onto. They ended up hooking around Harry’s shoulders, his hands holding your thighs close, as if not worried in the slightest about them getting too tight. Instead, he held you close and your breath came out in short pants, airways drying from not being able to even close your mouth and breathe.

His tongue was just so wet. There wasn’t really a better way to describe it. Oral while you were like this always felt this way—just overwhelming in the most basic sense. It was wet and warm and overwhelming and you never wanted it to end. You didn’t even know how long he was down there, his head tucked between your thighs, alternating between sucking on your clit and licking up and down your slit, poking his tongue into your hole for a second—just long enough to make you groan, deep and unabashed.

“I’m close,” you murmured, words broken and Harry could only understand them because he had heard you talk in the morning after you’d just gotten up and your mind wasn’t quite working yet. He parsed your words together with ease, and the result made him grin, and suck harshly on your clit, before dropping his chin and licking into you with fervor. “Fuck, Harry.”

“That’s it,” he mumbled, words garbled because he didn’t even raise his head to speak, he kept his lips right on your skin which meant the vibrations of his words flowed through your veins.

His fingertips pressed harshly on the outside of your thighs, holding you close, and somehow the combination of the pressure and the heat of his tongue had you tumbling over the edge, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggled to catch a breath, your orgasm overtaking you. Harry watched as your fingers clenched the duvet, legs tightening and then loosening around his shoulders, before dropping to the bed with a satisfied sigh from your lips.

He could watch you for days.

“Come here,” you said, glancing down at him with a fucked out look on your face, eyes glassy and lips red from chewing on them, your hair a mess from thrashing your head back and forth. He’d never seen you quite like this and he liked the sight.

Liked it a lot, in fact. He moved up your body with ease, the soft skin of his legs rubbing against yours. Once he was at your eye level, you sealed the distance with a kiss that made Harry’s mind fumble for stable ground, desperate for you. When you ran your toes up his calf, though, the soft touch making him moan, he knew he was fucked. “You—need you,” he said, breathless against your lips.

You pushed his underwear down without question, sliding your fingers under the band so you could feel his warm skin under your palms. When he bucked up into you as your nails brushed against his butt cheeks, you smiled against his lips, loving how obvious he was. He didn’t hide anything, pretend like he wasn’t affected. You liked that in a guy. “Condom?” You said, tweaking his skin between your thumb and forefinger.

Harry lifted his head, blinking once. “Yeah—yeah, in the drawer. One sec.” He shifted, rolling off of you so he could do two things. The first was find a condom in the drawer, the second was push down his briefs. Well, technically three things, because after that he rolled the condom on with focus, lip caught between his teeth as you watched, head turned to take in the sight of his side profile.

He was gorgeous. You’d known that for a long while, but seeing him like this, under the glow of the bedside table light and the sweaty curls sticking to his forehead, his chest rising rapidly. You were even attracted to his smattering of chest hair, and especially liked the way his skin purged at his sides. In fact, you reached out and grabbed it gently, drawing his attention back to you.

With one look back at you, he rolled back over you, your legs parting with ease. You wound your fingers through his hair and appreciated that he didn’t ask you questions, that he didn’t try to talk about it because you didn’t want to. You wanted this, it was obvious in how you gazed at him with desire and kneaded at his skin, tugging his pelvis closer and closer. The talk, you thought, would’ve ruined it, made you question it. And you didn’t want to question, you just wanted him.

So when he pushed one of your knees up to your waist and brushed his condom-covered tip over your slit, the skin nudging the hood of your clit, your hips moved without thought. Circled up for him, trying to get the angle for him to slip inside properly. Because you were craving it, feeling him. Needed him in a way you never had before and you didn’t want to linger on it, just wanted it to happen finally.

Harry’s eyes caught on yours, and as if scared of what he found, he looked back down at where your bodies met, before pushing inside. A moan ripped from your throat, fingernails digging into his biceps which you were gripping as he slid in slowly.

“Shit,” you cursed as you felt yourself adjusting to him, “Shit, fuck, shit, Harry.”

“Sorry,” he said, a trace of what you could’ve sworn was a blush creeping across his cheeks. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, squeezing at his arms. “Go.”

And he did.

Holy fuck did he go.

Harry held nothing back when he fucked you. He found a rhythm almost immediately, one that had your torso moving up the duvet and your head raising from the pillow and slamming back down again, eyes fluttering shut and then open again when he hit a deep spot. It was hard to describe how good it felt to have him inside of you, but god, it felt divine. Something you’d been missing. And not that it was him you’d been missing, but sex in general, you’d missed it. Missed this feeling of just losing yourself in it, in the movement of bodies and the sounds and the sweat and that feeling of closeness when Harry’s head dropped down to your neck and he thrusted deep inside of you, an echo of your name on his lips.

Your ankles hooked above his bum, and the impact of his hips on your inner thighs you knew would leave a bruise in the morning and you relished the prospect of it. Of remembering this feeling, of reliving it every time you squatted down. Although the thought of being empty of him was something you were not looking forward to, you were excited about the aftermath on your body.

And Harry was losing his fucking mind as he moved inside of you. Not only because you were squeezing him tight and thought he was going to come within seconds, but because of the way you were wrapped around his body, your hands holding onto his biceps so tightly he was sure there’d be marks tomorrow. It was how your legs sat above his hips, the backs of your heels digging into his ass to make sure he drove into you with a depth and a speed that you needed. Your head tipped back and your mouth was open slightly, tufts of air and moans of pleasure floating from them and through the air, sending sparks down his spine.

When he dropped his head to your neck it was because he missed smelling you, being that close to you. So he lost himself on the column of your neck, leaving mark after mark as he drove into you, as you swallowed him whole—body and mind. This sex was consuming in a way he wasn’t used to and he didn’t think it was the alcohol and the marijuana. He didn’t know why.

Well, he did, but he pretended not to.

Especially when you pulled on his hair and murmured, “Faster, please, H—fuck, please,” in his ear.

Yes, he decided as he sped up and reached a depth that made both of you choke on air, it was a far better idea to pretend that what he was feeling right now was completely normal.

Usually you liked to be on top, to set the pace and keep control when you hooked up with guys, but right now, Harry was doing so good on his own that the last thing you wanted was to stop him. So you let him set the pace and instead kept yourself busy by touching every inch of his body available. You fingers ran down the length of his arms, across the black tattoos swirling across his skin, and towards his chest, making a line down to his belly. When you scratched softly over his skin he grunted—and not a weird sound, but one that you could tell meant he liked it.

So you pressed a little harder, experimenting a bit.

To your smug joy, Harry’s fingers curled in the duvet next to your stomach, arms tensing, and his eye snapped to yours. He didn’t even have to say anything—you knew. He wanted you to keep going.

And you did. You brushed your hand to the top of his torso and dragged a torturing path downwards, nails biting into his skin. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave an angry red trail. Harry was panting above you, eyes fluttering closed as he thrusted into you.

He was close. Your nails mixed with how you squeezed him tight inside of you and the sounds you were making and the slam of the bed against the wall and your perfume lingering in the air—it all mixed together into a dangerous concoction that had him struggling on the edge. “Are you close?” He asked, words rougher than they had been when he last spoke.

When your chin tipped down ever so slightly, Harry smiled devilishly, the prospect of bringing you over the edge again spurring him on, a second surge of energy coursing through his veins. Any exhaustion he had been feeling before from lingering in the same position, any ache in his knees or tightness in his arms was gone, in favor of pressing your knees farther up towards your chest, earning a new angle that had your hands scrambling up his arms and nails digging into his shoulders.

He hissed at the touch and you panted the word Yes over and over again, eyes screwed shut as the orgasm built inside of you like a tidal wave, threatening to break as he twisted his hips a particular way. You were going to come, you realized only seconds before it happened, the depth Harry was reaching and the brutal pace against your hips creating a deadly combination.

As you did, a shudder of his name falling through the room, you squeezed Harry like a death grip and he choked out a moan before coming mere seconds after, unable to hold himself back any longer.

“Shit,” he said, leaning against your shins as he caught his breath. Your legs were still propped up against your chest, his hands caging in your body as he leaned his weight onto you.

Your eyes opened, the soft bedroom light seeming brighter after what had just happened. “Shit,” you answered simply, not knowing what else to say.

What did you say to your roommate after you fucked them, anyway? The alcohol still lingered, both of you plenty tipsy still. It was enough for your legs to drop open and happily let Harry kiss you senseless as he withdrew from inside of you, your hand cupping his jaw. His lips were fucking sin and you hoped you would be able to forget them. Because as he pulled away and mumbled about throwing away the condom, leaving you breathless on his duvet, you didn’t know if you’d be able to.

Harry woke up to an empty bed and a throbbing headache. He was still naked, but that wasn’t unusual considering he favored sleeping naked, and his duvet cover was around his waist. The side of the bed you had been asleep in when he’d shut his eyes was bare, the duvet cover askew from seemed to be you leaving.

He rolled over and picked up his phone, cursing at the low battery from not charging it last night. Then, he sat up in bed, letting the sheets pool at his waist and rubbed his eyes, trying to wake them up. His eyes were dry, probably from the weed, and his throat was dry, probably from the alcohol and the sex.

The sex.

His mind flipped through it in a series of images, like a slideshow on double time, the sight of you naked below him filling his brain. The thing about drunk sex was that you could remember the overall experience, the general highlights, certain specific moments, but it wasn’t like you could pick through it and remember each detail. But Harry didn’t even need the details to know it was fucking incredible.

Fucking you was literally a dream come true.

What wasn’t was the other half of the bed being empty, especially considering it was only eight AM.

He listened to the apartment, trying to decipher if he could hear you moving around. Usually he could hear your footfalls, considering how small and cheap the place was. But it was silent, meaning either you were still asleep or you weren’t home. Most likely it was the former, since it was still early and you usually slept late after a night out.

Although he didn’t know how you were the night after sex. And when had you gotten up from his bed?

More importantly, why had you gotten up from his bed?

Logically, he knew it was probably to avoid a weird interaction, but it was more weird for him to wake up alone and not know why. To not know how you wanted to handle this. Because his sober mind was increasingly realizing that although last night’s events were sensational, they were on the whole an utterly horrible idea.

The two of you lived together, for Pete’s sake. You were practically best friends. You still had half a year worth of a lease.

He groaned, his chin dropping to his chest as he took a deep breath. He could do this, he told himself as he kicked back the covers and slid his legs out of the bed. He could handle this.

So he put his phone on its charger, slipped on a pair of joggers, and went to find you.

What Harry didn’t know was that in the next room, you were wide awake. You had tried to fall back asleep after you’d crept out of his bed at six AM, and you had for a while. But then you woke up and the reality of last night came crashing back through your brain and you groaned, reminding yourself how fucking stupid you were.

Sure, Harry was hot.

That didn’t mean you had to fuck him, you idiot, you told yourself. He was your roommate, your friend. Not someone to sleep with. And yet, here you were, your thighs sore from his hips crashing against them and your body smelling like sex and his cologne.

You heard his door open—it was a small apartment after all—and your heart stopped for a second. You waited for the sound of his footsteps, praying he would just walk to the kitchen and not stop at your room. Listening closely, you heard him pause outside your room and then continue into the kitchen, where you heard the refrigerator open and close and then the kettle humming as he started a cup of tea. A part of you sighed, but the other part of you remembered that you had to see him eventually.

Why were you hiding, anyway?

It wasn’t like you could avoid him, and what did you have to avoid him about? Sure, you’d seen his naked body, sure he’d seen yours, sure you’d had mind blowing sex. That didn’t mean anything.

Right?

“Shit,” you groaned softly into your pillow and decided you would stay in your room until the last possible second. You never said you weren’t a coward.

Unfortunately, an hour later the desire to pee was overwhelming you and you couldn’t wait any longer. So you huffed out a sigh, threw on a pair of pajamas and pushed open your door, taking a tentative step into the hallway, trying to gauge where in the house Harry was. You’d lost track of him during a scroll through Instagram and couldn’t quite place him anymore and it was making you nervous.

Then, you heard the floorboards creak.

Your head whirled to the side, your eyes meeting his. He was standing not two feet away, looking at you with messy hair and wide eyes, a cup of tea clutched in one hand. “Hi,” you managed to say. “Bathroom.”

All he did was nod. He nodded as if this entire situation was somehow normal and completely not fucking with both of your brains.

So you strolled down the hall to the bathroom and shut yourself inside. If he wanted to pretend like this was normal, you could do that, you decided. You’d give him normal.

For the next two weeks, that was exactly what you did. You were the picture of normalcy—you pretended like nothing had happened, just made jokes in the kitchen and joined him for study hours and brought home takeaway for the two of you on Thursday night as usual. However, you couldn’t ignore how things had changed between the two of you. There was this…air between you. Charged with sexual tension that you couldn’t ignore, mixed with a hint of awkwardness and uncertainty that had you both on edge. Gone were the playful squeezes to your sides and you swatting him upside the head when he was annoying. Gone was any unexpected touch, in fact. It was like the Cold War in your apartment, a détente on both sides.

It was excruciating. So much so that you’d found yourself wondering if you needed to move out, which was a stupid idea considering it was mid-way through the year and you adored your apartment. It would also probably be more awkward to break the lease agreement than keep it, you decided.

So instead, you stayed, and you pushed through the uncomfortable moments and spent more time in your room than ever before, the living room a space you avoided unless you had to be there. Harry did the same, a look of almost panic on his face whenever you walked into the kitchen in the morning for breakfast. Was the idea of being in close quarters with you really that horrible sounding?

Apparently, it was.

Two weeks after the night of your greatest mistake, the two of you ended up meeting up with your friends. In fact, the exact same set of friends who you’d been with at the house party two weeks prior. You’d ended up walking over to Mariah’s apartment together, a case of Whiteclaws tucked under Harry’s arm. You were rambling about your art history course and he was nodding along, offering the occasional thought. It felt decently normal, and you were hoping it would last through the night.

At first, it did. But then, more and more people started showing up—some people in the debate club with Mariah, a few from the club soccer team with James, the entirety of Lilah’s a cappella group, and then some people you and Harry had each invited. The result was a packed apartment, the music blaring from a portable speaker, and alcohol bottles and plastic cups littering every surface. There was the faint smell of marijuana from when some people went to smoke in Mariah’s room, and it felt comfortable.

You were talking in a group of yourself, two of your friends from a summer internship you’d had, Harry, and Wei, a guy Harry knew from freshman year who had stayed close with. It took everything in your body not to let your gaze linger on Harry, the cut of his dark green t-shirt close to his body and his black skinny jeans gripping his thighs. His hair was a mess, as it always was when he’d had a couple drinks because he ran his hands through it nonstop. His green eyes were sparkling as he listened to a story Wei was telling, his full body laugh sounding in your ears. It was torture being this close to him and there being a wall between the two of you.

“Hey,” your friend Deliah said, her soft voice pulling your attention back to her. “You and Harry okay?”

She hadn’t been there two weeks ago and you hadn’t told her about what had happened. “Yeah, we’re fine,” you told her with a slight nod.

She studied you for a beat longer, but then seemed to accept the response. “I’m going to go get another, you want anything?”

“No, go ahead,” you answered, raising your still half-full glass.

Ronnie, who stood next to you, said she’d go along and then Wei pulled away and followed them, saying he needed another beer and wanted to find one of his friends and say hello, and suddenly, it was just you and Harry. You and Harry and both of you were fairly drunk and you couldn’t stop looking at his lips. The memory of how they felt against yours pushing its way into your brain and suddenly overtaking your every thought.

What was worse was how he was looking at you. He was watching you, something you knew because you knew him, knew what every one of his glances meant. This one was backed by thoughts, it was the result of him thinking about you and watching your face for something. What, you didn’t know. But you couldn’t take the way his eyes were trained on your expression, the feeling of his gaze on your skin. The distance between you felt like it was shrinking and you felt like you could smell his cologne even though in reality you couldn’t, and you wondered if your heart was pounding in your chest because of the alcohol in your bloodstream or him.

You couldn’t stand there next to him, you decided. You simply couldn’t.

“I’m going to get some air,” you said, pushing yourself off the wall. “Back in a second.”

He may have said something, but you were gone before you could hear it, threading through the crowd towards the patio door. It was a tiny patio, just enough space for a set of chairs and a narrow table, but it was enough. It was empty and the music was quieter as you shut the sliding door.

You could breathe out here, and you did, resting your cup on the railing and looking out at the street. Mariah’s apartment was nestled closer to campus, a bit more of an expensive place thanks to her parents and a high-paying summer internship. Distantly you heard the chatter of people walking on the street towards frat row, the honk of what were probably Ubers picking people up and dropping them off at parties.

Slowly, you inhaled, trying to calm the fast beat of your heart. Your thoughts drifted back to Harry, though, and how you had just looked at one another, had studied each other, both knowing that you couldn’t continue you like this. Something had to give and you didn’t know what it was. You didn’t know what to do. Mariah had tried to talk to you about it, but you’d pretended like it was fine because you didn’t want her meddling. You knew she would try to talk to Harry and then it would become some big thing for all of your friends to know about, and you didn’t want that. You just wanted it to be solved and done and over with. You didn’t want all of these feelings in your chest or these thoughts in your head, you didn’t want to think about this anymore.

You didn’t want to think about him. You didn’t want to think about how good he’d felt, about how you wished it could happen again, about how you’d had fucking dreams about him, about how every time you heard his voice it sent shivers through your body because it reminded you of the way he’d said your name, rough and deep and rumbling in his chest.

And then you heard it: your name, in that rough and deep voice. “Y/N.”

“I want to be alone for a bit,” you said, not even turning to face him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, obviously ignoring your words and instead shutting the sliding door behind him.

It was quiet now, and because the balcony was narrow he ended up standing right next to you, his elbow mere inches from yours as he leaned on the railing. “Nothing,” you said with a sigh, the lie bitter on your tongue. “Nothing’s wrong, Harry.”

At first, he didn’t say anything, just let your words float in the slight breeze. But then, you heard the crinkle of his thumb pressing into his cup and you knew he was fidgeting, thinking about something, and you knew he was going to break that silence. “Did I mess everything up?” He asked, so soft you barely heard it over the music from inside.

That make you turn your head, eyes meeting his finally. “It’s not your fault. I was there too, we both are responsible.”

“Then, did we mess everything up?”

You sighed, searching for the words. “I don’t think we messed everything up,” you told him finally. “But I don’t know if it can be like it was before.”

“Do you want it to be like it was before?”

His words made your heart jolt. “When we were friends?”

“Aren’t we still friends?” His words were so soft, so full of emotion, you wondered if this was the kind of conversation to be having right now.

“Yes,” you answered. “But…”

“Nothing more,” he finished. You nodded, and both of you were silent for a beat, letting the truth settle between you two. It was the first time you’d even acknowledged that anything had happened. “I don’t want…”

You turned to look at him and saw his tight his jaw was set, how his eyes were trained on the street in front of the building. How he could barely look at you. “H?”

When he turned to meet your gaze, his eyes were glassy, and you realized he was nearly crying. “I don’t want to go back to how it was before,” he said, words broken in his throat. “I want…I want more.”

That made your mind grind to a halt. “You—what?”

“Please don’t make me say it again,” he whispered.

You realized he didn’t know. He didn’t know how much you felt for him, how much the night you’d spent together had absolutely destroyed any semblance of an ability to pretend like you weren’t into him, that you hadn’t had a crush on him for ages. He had no fucking clue. “Harry,” you said, reaching out and brushing your fingers along his forearm, “I want the same thing.”

His eyes widened, gaze falling to where your fingers touched his skin and back up to your eyes. “You do?” You nodded, a smile spreading across your face that he quickly mirrored. “Have we been absolute idiots?” He asked, turning on his heal so you were facing one another fully. Then, he reached up and ran his forefinger across your jawline, a shudder running through your body at the feeling of his fingers on your skin.

“I think we might have been,” you answered, ducking your head ever so slightly so that his finger ran up to your mouth, brushing across your bottom lip.

He cleared his throat when you dropped your jaw ever so slightly, just enough for his finger to press in-between your lips, a ghost of a touch. “Can’t even think when you’re looking at me like that,” he mumbled, words that same roughness you remembered from your night together.

“Right back at you,” you told him.

He stepped closer to you, closing the distance. “We’re such idiots,” he murmured, hand moving to cup your jaw, his fingers brushing under your ear.

“Such idiots,” you agreed.

And slowly, he closed the space between you two, his lips brushing yours hesitantly. But the second you felt his mouth slot between yours, you moved closer, pressing your body against his and your arms winding around his waist to hold him close. His other hand brushed down your side and the grip made your skin sing, finally being close to him was everything you needed. It healed the ache in your heart that had lingered ever since that morning, that morning when everything had gone so wrong.

His lips parted and he pulled away ever so slightly, just enough so your foreheads stayed touching.

“Why’d you leave?” He asked, his breath on your lips.

“I got scared you would regret it in the morning,” you replied. “I didn’t want to be there when you did.”

He chuckled softly, a slight shake of his head. “I didn’t regret it,” he told you. “I thought you did.”

“I’m so stupid,” you said, one of your hands moving from his back to encircle his wrist that held your face. “I’m sorry for leaving.”

“It’s okay.” He pressed his lips to your nose so sweetly your knees just about gave out. “Got you in the end, right?”

You hummed an affirmation and leaned up so that your lips could reconnect, kissing him with a passion you’d been seeking for two weeks. And when he kissed you back, the tips of his hair brushing your skin and his fingers pressing against your skin, you sighed, finally feeling settled once again. You’d missed this—him, being this close to him. Somehow, that one night had made you permanently miss him.

He’d truly done a number on you.

“Wanna go home?” You asked between kisses, loving the soft moan that feel from his throat at the thought.

“As long as I wake up to you still next to me,” he replied.

“Promise,” you said, kissing him once more. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The two of you ended up keeping the apartment for the rest of the year, your stuff slowly ending up in his room because the mattress was more comfortable, and eventually your old room became a shared study room. It was where your desks ended up and you’d study there together in the evenings or marathon study sessions on the weekends, music playing from a speaker between you two. Most of the time, you ended up making out, though, and occasionally having sex on one of your desks or on the floor because frankly you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. The sexual tension that had been there that first night had lingered, and it made it so you two truly couldn’t stop touching each other.

It drove your friends crazy, all of them yelling at you whenever you started making out at parties, reminding you that you were in public and you could hold off until you were home, thank you very much. And Harry just would kiss your temple and whisper in your ear about what he wanted to do to you later, and you’d pinch his bum to remind him that he wasn’t the only one with tricks up his sleeves.

Harry had never fallen in love with someone so fast, but with you it was easy. You had been one of his favorite people before you’d started dating, but now it was like you were truly the most incredible people in the world. He’d wake up with you snuggled into his chest, hair tickling his nose, and he’d get a kiss before you left bed since your class schedules started at the same time most days. You’d make his tea just like he liked it and rubbed his back when he got sick after a big night out, and when you laughed at one of his corny jokes your entire face would light up, a beaming smile that made his whole body ache. You were so gorgeous is physically hurt sometimes because he couldn’t stop staring at you, absorbing just how fucking perfect you were.

It was funny, because dating you wasn’t all that different from being your friend. He still got all the shared dinners and movie nights and hilarious stories the morning after a night out, but now he got to hear them while cuddling you on the couch, your head tucked against his neck. And when you teased him about how much of a boy he was (his snapback was your favorite target) you’d kiss him to make him stop pouting. But he was happy. He was so fucking happy with you.

He was thinking about all of that while you sat on the couch together, his head lying in your lap as you read a book for class, your fingers running through his hair absentmindedly. He was watching you, something he did often and you’d grown used to, and suddenly the overwhelming desire to finally tell you how he felt hit him like a truck.

And unlike previous attempts, he couldn’t stop himself.

“I love you,” he said, the words so simple and sure that they made you stop reading and look down at him.

“What?”

“I love you,” he repeated, drawing out the last word and tucking his face into your stomach, peppering kisses over your shirt. For some reason, he wasn’t nervous, knowing you’d say it or not and either way it was okay—he wasn’t expecting you to necessarily be ready. He just couldn’t hide it anymore.

He knew your mind was turning but he just kept kissing you, knowing the action would calm your anxious thoughts. “I love you too,” you finally said after a beat, and he looked up at you.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, you idiot,” you answered, setting your book down on the couch and smiling at him. “Wasn’t expecting to tell you quite like this, though.”

“How were you planning to tell me?”

You shrugged, rubbing a circle on his forehead. “Dunno. Something more monumental, I guess? I know you like all those romance movies, so I thought maybe something like in one of those.”

He adored the fact that you wanted to make it special, that you’d thought about it, but he just shook his head at you. “I don’t need it to be monumental,” he told you, brushing his fingers along your chin. “This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Shut up.”

“Never,” he said, sitting up and grabbing your hips, swinging you onto his lap with your laughter raining down on him. “Never going to stop telling you how perfect you are.”

He hooked his fingers on your neck and pulled you in for a kiss, one of those ones that made your thoughts all mushy and his heart pound in his chest because sometimes the way he felt about you just made his whole body go silent except for his heart. Or, at least it felt that way.

“Love you,” he mumbled against your lips, eyes catching yours.

“Love you more,” you replied, kissing his nose softly.

“Are we going to be one of those couples that is constantly competing over who loves the other person more?” He asked, nestling his head in the space between your shoulder and neck, settling there as your fingers swept through his hair. You wrapped around him like this was his favorite place to be.

“Probably,” you answered simply, a tender kiss to the side of his head. “Now, does this mean you’ll make dinner tonight? I’ve got a paper to edit.”

He laughed into your shoulder, picking his head up to look at you. “You make it sound like I don’t make dinner practically every night.”

You shrugged, a playful smile on your face. “You’re just better at it.”

“False, but I’ll take the compliment.”

“God, your ego has got to be massive now,” you mumbled, and he laughed, smile stretching across his face and dimples poking out.

“Alright, go start on your essay and I’ll cook something for us. Sound good?”

You beamed at him. “Perfect.” You bounced off his lap, grabbing your book and heading for your old room. “Love you!”

The words were called over your shoulder and Harry smiled at how perfect they sounded on your lips, how easy it was to answer back simply, “Love you more,” at your receding figure, the thought gracing his mind at how he’d like to be saying those words to you for a very, very long time.

HI I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!!!!! COME TALK TO ME IN MY INBOX AND PLEASE REBLOG SO MORE PEOPLE GET TO READ/SEE THIS!!! XOXOXOXO LOVE YOUUUU

#harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fic #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x mc #harry styles smut #college harry styles #college!harry #college harry #roommate harry #roommate harry styles

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bluebird-imagines · 4 years ago

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Hi :) can you do all the members(separately off) with a s/o who doesn’t really like their music?

[I can for sure give it a shot! This is my first ask so i do hope you enjoy it ^_^. Also I apologize for taking so long, my second vaccine shot kicked my butt]

Prompted: S/O who doesn’t like Gorillaz Music

Trigger Warnings: I can’t think of any for this one. Maybe I should state my horrible 2D accent! I apologize in advance. Of and I bring up the s*x, m*rder, party song. But all and all I don’t think there is anything else. Anyway enjoy!

~Murdoc Niccals ~

Let’s start this off with, at first he doesn’t even realize that you don’t like the Gorillaz music. He never even pieces two and two together. Why might you ask? Well for the first while you tolerated it for the Bass players sake.

After a few months, you decided it would be best to maybe leave Kong whenever the band you as practicing or rehearsing. You did a lot of stuff in this time. Coffee, read some good books, even went bowling on your own a few times. It was just nice to get away from that horrid music.

You didn’t have anything against the band members themselves! All of them were nice, it just you found the songs to be tedious and annoying.

When Murdoc finally started to take notice, he would ask you why you would avoid the band. Not seeming to understand the distaste of their masterpieces.

You lied most of the time, saying something stupid like “oh I am meeting up with friends” or “oh I would just be in the way”.

After a few more months, Murdoc finally forced you to sit and listen to their newest album. Mainly wanting to get your take on it before the official release.

You didn’t even get halfway through the first song before standing up and tuned off the player. You honestly felt like your ears would jump off your head if you ever heard that again.

“What the Bloody hell was that for?! We have like 43 more minutes to go”

“Murdoc, I don’t know how to tell you this. But babe…your music is a flaming hot dumpster fire and I don’t like it”

“……what? Why the hell are you with me then if you don’t like our music?”

“Because I may have underlining daddy issues according to the internet, but in reality I really love you Mudz…for you!”

“So playing bass isn’t sexy….underlining what? No wait getting away from the real point here. You never heard if Feel Good inc.? Or you know Clint Eastwood?Those were some of our best songs! What about To Binge? Empire ants? Any of them.

“Hmm, Feel Good inc? Let’s see it’s repeats itself a lot. Clint Eastwood? Haha other then the opening your song had nothing to do with Clint Eastwood. You posted To Binge aka forced 2D to sing it. Empire Ants? It just sucks”

“You suck! Are music is an art! It’s great! you are the problem here.”

“Never said I was! Your music is an art and it makes a lot of people happy. But to me, my ears did like it…but I can say this, I do like you a lot Murdoc.”

“ I am pretty great! Fine no more of our music…around your at least. But maybe sometimes”

“I can handle sometimes”.

~Noodle~

Noodle would completely understand your distaste for their music. She understands that not anyone is up for what they produce and she thinks that is okay!

For her as long as you don’t listen to any overly annoying songs around her. She really doesn’t care what you listen to.

She does however like to get your input on songs, even if you don’t like them. She just likes hearing different peoples ideas.

But with that being said, there is a 100% chance that she may try to convert you into liking Gorillaz. Of course, just simply by showing you different songs they have done. Like Punk or Humility, Feel Good inc. or El Mañana. Hell she has even shown you Latin Simone.

When she realized she was doing this, she quickly backed off and apologized.

“Sorry (Y/n). I didn’t mean to do that…I just kind of got excited and thought you would like the different genres we have done.”

“It’s okay Noodle, you realized your mistake! Honestly it’s not that the songs themselves aren’t inherently bad…it’s just well Murdoc’s bass playing is well…pretty bad in my opinion”

“Oh? How so if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well to me it sounds like well, a crusty old man who doesn’t know how to cut his nails and proceeds to scratch the surface of everything he touches. Also while we are at it 2D’s singing is really hard to understand!”

“Well Murdoc does forget to clip his nails from time to time and he doesn’t seem to like using a pick for his bass. But now you confused me with 2D”

“Listen I love you all! Especially you Noodle, but ooo boy, if you guys weren’t careful in sex murder party…it kind of sounds like 2D is singing dissolve the kids…which isn’t a pleasant image”

“Ah, I see what you mean, anything else?”

“Nope! Your guitar playing is wonderful! Love everything about you! Just your band is a bit much at times haha”

~Russel Hobbs~

Much like Noodle Russel would understand that their music wasn’t for everyone. Everyone was entitled to their own opinion. For example he was really into rap and it took a while for him to talk the whole band into listening to it.

Regardless unlike Noodle or Murdoc he wouldn’t make you listen to a single song of theirs if you didn’t want to.

Of course you would every now and then for their demo’s you just wouldn’t voice your opinion on it, since you couldn’t stand it.

Russel would also try his best to get into music that you like! Of course, if he doesn’t like one of the songs you like, you make a mutual agreement to not play it around him.

He even at one point turned it into a game that he really enjoyed playing with you! It was a game that helped the both of you set up playlists!

He would pick one of his favourite songs, if you thought it was okay, it went into the playlist. If he liked one of the songs you picked into the playlist!

“Okay how about, this song?”

“Let it go…from frozen? Really, we ain’t putting that in the playlist”

“Yeah you are right it was a stupid idea, it’s just been stuck in my head.”

“Haha fair enough, how about Rainforest by Noname?”

“Hmm, that’s actually not a bad one! We can throw it in! Alright space jam?”

“What is with you in movie songs tonight? Yeah we can throw in space jam”

“Sweet!”

“I can’t believe space jam beats our music out in that mind of yours…”

~Stuart “2D” Pots~

At first, 2D can not wrap his mind around the fact that you hate their music. More so he has never really had someone be with him for well just him before. Most of the one nightstands he had in the past was because of his popular singer status.

He does try his very best to get you into their music, of course, walking the fine line between shoving it down your throat and giving you air to breath with your own tunes.

That being said though, he doesn’t overly mind the fact that you like your own selection of music. He does find some of your songs enjoyable.

When he realizes most of the bands travel playlist consisted of a few of the bands own songs. He secretly takes the phone and changes up the playlist. He removes the Gorillaz songs and replaces them with songs you like.

Although you don’t like the bands music, that never truly stopped you from liking 2D’s singing. When he found that out he made a special song just for you. One where it was only on his keyboard and singing. He keeps it hidden so Murdoc doesn’t find it.

“(Y/n) I made yew something!”

“Oh sweet Satan please don’t tell me it was breakfast and that you burnt down the kitchen again!”

“What no! Besides that was a one time fing and I got a four month ban from going in fere fanks to Russel”

“Sorry…shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. What did you make 2D? You seemed really proud.”

“Oh well Um…I know yew don’t like our music and all…but I uh, I made yew a song, do ya want to ‘ere it?”

“Of course 2D, just because I don’t like your music, doesn’t mean I can’t be supportive of you”

“Well, this song isn’ really goin’ to be on an album, because I made it for yew”

“Aww 2D you didn’t have to~”

“But I wanted too!”

After he plays the song, you state that you adore it! This puts a huge smile on his face!

#stuart pot #gorillaz #gorillaz x reader #2d x reader #murdoc x reader #murdoc niccals #noodle x reader #Noodle #russel hobbs x reader #Russel Hobbs

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studyingmoominvalley · 3 years ago

Text

my analysis of Moominvalley (2019)'s season one soundtrack

(yeah I may not be great at this and I may be missing a lot, but bare in mind this is my analysis, not anyone else's. Please be nice to me ;-;)

I'm Far Away:

Snufkin has travelled for the Winter. The first verse is like Moomin leaving letters in Snufkin's bag, wishing him with good travels and a safe return hope. Snufkin is longing for something to change, or maybe something in him to change... The second verse is more talking about his travels and how he longs to return no matter what happens.

Starlight:

I don't know, reading this and thinking of Snufmin makes me concerned. It's SO obvious that it's from Moomin's perspective that it gives me a cavaty. "Please say you'll never leave 'cause it's in your hands" If that wasn't obvious enough, idk what is. This is him just... wanting to be with Snufkin. He knows deep down that Snufkin has to travel, yes it's in his hands but not completely. It's a part of him. This is obviously his mind in a point of time where he hasn't gotten used to Snufkin being away from him, possibly what is reflected in Teety-Woo.

Summer Day:

Moomin doesn't like the Winter because it feels wrong without Snufkin. But he has Snorkmaiden with him at least, and that's good enough right? Snorkmaiden loves Moomin, almost in a similar way Moomin loves Snufkin, but Moomin just feels tied down in the relationship. He thinks he's just thinking like an adult, like a moody teenager or something. But then again, he feels Snufkin is the only one who understands him ("But when you put your hands in my hands/You speak a language only us can understand"). It feels like Summer with Snufkin, but not with Snorkmaiden. He reassures himself that Spring is coming and that he'll see the one who knows him best soon.

Back To The Cave:

We get to look into Snufkin's brain, ooo! This is mainly about Snufkin's feelings about himself and how he hides his true emotions from Moomin and the others. "They can't see behind the camouflage" this is him hiding behind a wise and carefree persona, when deep down he is conflicted about almost everything. It seems when he runs out of things to say or when he fears that he'll show his emotions, he finds time to be alone, shown by the lines "We're running out of punchlines/So watch us crawl/We're crawling back to the cave". But his feelings are getting too much, his fears of being forgotten most likely because he doesn't express himself in the way he should "There's a storm/It's rising". So basically he doesn't know what to do anymore. And I guess the "you can't be truly free if you admire somebody too much" quote can link to "There's no time/There's no place for idles", showing more that this is about Snufkin's emotions.

Love Me With All Your Heart:

now this song choice was intentional. This is mutual pining, their emotions mixing into the same song. They've loved each other for a long time, be it platonic turning to romance or be it always romantic. They both want each other, they both long for each other. But they don't wish for their relationship to change, they want it to stay the same ("When we're far apart or when you're near me", "Love me always as you've loved me from the start").

Home Again:

Snufkin is back home, and he could not be happier. Yeah he likes to travel and be with his thoughts, but nothing is better than being with Moomin, shown by the lines "Nothing could be better/Than when I hold you close to me" and "Who I was back then and who I am now/Makes no difference when I'm by your side".

There Is Something In The Forest:

One day, Moomin and Snufkin are just adventuring as they usually do. But something feels different. Something new. Moomin realises it that night, when sitting hand in hand with Snufkin. He finds himself losing track of time, only paying attention to his friend. When he goes home, all he can think of is Snufkin. He thinks of it as he walks, embracing his new emotions as love, a deep love, for Snufkin. And he never wants to let it go. Ever.

Home:

Moomin has noticed how off Snufkin has been acting, and one day he decides to comfort him. He tells him that if he ever feels like he needs to hide ("Sometimes you only want to hide") or that nobody is there for him, that Moomin will always be there for him. This song can also link to Snufkin's own saying "You must go on a long journey before you find out how wonderful home is", and seems like Snufkin has found his home in Moomintroll.

All Small Beasts:

nah this is crime anthem. Little My is cheering Snufkin up, telling him that people with lots of dreams, emotions and all that should just let it out in a huge show! Commit crime! Burn some signs! Fuck Hemulens, who's to say what they can or can't do? The first verses are her making fun of people being neat and telling Snufkin that bottling up your emotions is just going to tease at you and bite you in the tail one day. But this can also be seen in another way, brought to my attention by my friend Bloom. It can be a song about owning up to your mistakes instead of keeping them away.

Free Spirit:

must I say anything? Snufkin likes being alone and free. The second verse is what I want to focus on however. He knows it's good to be alone and not worry about anything, but his avoiding of responsibility is doing him worse than he knows (much like the "owning up to mistakes" analysis by my friend Bloom).

Country Air:

This is what Snufkin wishes he could say to Moomin. They're relaxing together in Summer, Moomin asleep. Snufkin is thinking in his brain about how much he loves him and just wishes he could say SOMETHING. Winter is coming soon, almost time for them to part. Maybe he can ponder more on his emotions then?

By Your Side:

it seems Snufkin is accepting and returning Moomin's offering of comfort, showing that he cares for Moomin and that he doesn't even need to ask for help, he'll do anything to make him happy.

In Blue:

oh boy

Snufkin fears he made a mistake already. He let out his emotions. Even when reassured that it was okay to do so, he feels utterly guilty, shown by the lines "I built a house from sticks and twine/And you said it would serve me fine/But then the rain could soak me through". He begins to fear that he's being put up with, like he doesn't matter anymore ("Anything to keep me quiet"). But he can't help but feel a strong admiration for Moomin. Snufkin has made so many mistakes, and has so many bad feelings ("I caught a fever like I always do"), yet Moomin is still his friend ("And still you let me stand with you, in blue"). He feels his emotions are his fault, and wonders if he should just stay in the valley and own up to his mistakes and allow others to show their true emotions for him, shown by the lines "I bet next year I'll see you all the time/The fault is all deserved as mine", "Was it all on purpose?/Was this true?" and "Tell me and be honest, was this you?". The phrase "In Blue" could refer to the saying "into the blue", which refers to the unknown. Snufkin is "In Blue" because he is in a stage where he is unsure of what he is hearing and wants to know if it's true or not.

Nothern Lights:

Snufkin's feelings for Moomin are increasing to what is obvious to him as love. "Will you find peace in your heart?" this line could be Snufkin talking to himself. Will be ever come to peace with his emotions and open up?

Ready Now:

Moomin has been there for Snufkin all this time. Through all his doubts, through all his sadness. Snufkin has no idea how to express himself, so Moomin helps him. They take it in turns to just talk about things, and "To my surprise we found my words". All this time, Snufkin believed himself to be free. But now he knows that opening up and embracing how you feel is true freedom. He is ready now.

The Author:

This is more about Moomin. He feels like his future will be like his father's, he already met Snorkmaiden during a big childhood adventure after all, just like Pappa. But he finds his story is changing. He's fallen in love with Snufkin. He slowly realises that his future is his own and that he is in charge of his story. And his story begins with being there for his best friend.

#moomins #moominvalley #snufkin #moomin #moomintroll #snufmin #analysis #soundtrack

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ivyglow · 4 years ago

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I don’t want you like a best friend - Andre Burakovsky

A/n: Sooo, I wrote this as some kind of gift to my best friend because she loves Andre and she was trying to get me on his train (I guess she did?). She’s always hitting me with “no but you should definitely write about Tito/Andre”. Here’s your piece @skarsgardswiftie I hope you like it! <3 I love you sm Also, a huge shout out to @sebs-aston for proofreading this with such an attentive eye! You’re amazing, liv!

Requested: yes / no

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: brief mention of alcohol

Summary: you’re friends with Andre, but things are about to change after you create a TikTok account and start doing challenges that may lead to news between you and your favorite hockey player.

When it comes to capturing a moment you’re usually the person your friends think about, not simply because you’re always carrying a camera -mainly because of it-, but because you’re great with what you do -either photos or videos-. That’s also why your Instagram profile has more followers than an ordinary girl would and it’s the only place people can find you -besides e-mail-. However, that changed when your best friend -Callie- convinced you to create a TikTok account. You, of course, hated it, but she had the perfect opportunity -you were a bit tipsy, all your friends around, sunny weekend and so it goes.

“Mikko, do you think I’m pretty?” You direct the camera to his face while looking expectantly.

Saturday evening rolled around, the hot weather forcing your friends either to the inside of the pool or under the sunshade and their hands busy with cold drinks. It was a happy day, everyone was around, and you were enjoying the vacation. You had met half of the Hockey team as soon as you moved to Colorado and Erik, your and your brother’s hometown best friend decided you needed to know his crew and the city around. Six months later and you knew pretty much everyone and everything.

“Of course I think you’re pretty” he gives you a confused look before you turn to Tyson giggling.

“Josty, do you think I’m pretty?” you ask and he looks straight at the camera “I would give you 5 out of 10 cause you’re bro.”

You laugh and turn to Andre this time.

“Andre, do you think I’m pretty?”

He seems taken aback by the question and unlike Tyson, he stares at you. “Of course you’re pretty.”

You keep to your task and last but not least is Nathan, he’s sitting at a table while working on some drinks and you take him by surprise by jumping in front of him. “Mac, do you think I’m pretty?”

He rolls his eyes playfully and turns his attention to you for some seconds before looking at his drink again, “I would one hundred percent date you if you were not my sisters’ best friend”

And then your time is over.

“So you’re a tiktoker now?” Erik sits beside you and Nathan just as you uploaded the video. He raises his eyebrows and you roll your eyes lightly, “you know I hate TikTok, but it’s fun, so…”

“She’s gonna end up famous there too”, Andre announces leaning his body on the table and motioning for Nathan to refill his drink. Your eyes roam on his big hands grasping the red cup, his cheeks red from the sun, and the way you could see his dimples when he smiled at you, his hair messy in a cute way.

“Why do you think that?” now he has three pairs of curious eyes staring at him.

You almost chuckled when his point finger scratched his chin. His skin glowing, “I mean, you’re funny and cute…cute girls get famous on TikTok” he reasoned.

“Is this your best, Burki?” Erik asks and for the way his lips were tight against each other you knew he wanted to laugh.

“C’mon, let them be,” Nathan said after giving the blond American a new cup, and before you could ask what was the matter Callie was calling you at the door.

Your best friend started a rant about how she was going to get Chinese take-out for dinner and when you told her she should get Thai too -because it was Andre’s favorite- she started another rant about how you should tell him you’re in love and how it was cute the way you two functioned but also annoying. All you could do was savor your drink and mentally play a Taylor Swift song while she went on, “I mean it, y/n! Just tell him already…”

“Have you seen Andre?!” you whisper-scream to her and Callie sights rolling her eyes, “what about him?”

Swallowing the last sip of your drink you start to draw doodles on the glass with your fingers, “I’m just y/n, he’s Andre Burakovsky”. You usually were not insecure about your looks, but it was Andre, and the fact that he was a famous and good-looking hockey player made you question how in heavens he would like you back. Hell, you were not even sure how you two ended up in such a close friendship, he always being so affectionate and listening to everything you had to say. Your friendship seemed like the most you could take from the interaction. You knew he was ‘just Andre’ too when all your friends were gathered, but being ‘just Andre’ was as amazing as being Andre Burakovsky the hockey player.

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever met, y/n, and I don’t mean considering only your looks, but everything. You’re funny, smart, and always so attentive with everyone, you listen to everything and always have nice things to say, don’t you ever doubt your value, you hear me?” Callie’s words make you sit up straight in the stall and your eyes water.

“In my defense, this is not me crying, this is tipsy me having an emotional moment”, you joke and it’s seconds before the two of you are laughing the way you used to during a John Mulaney show.

…

It was night when you unlocked your phone only to find a bunch of notifications from TikTok, some of the comments from fans about how happy the boys seemed, but most were about the way Andre looked at you when you asked the question. According to the most liked comment “this is clearly a friends to lovers, mutual pining, unaware love and slow-burn situation” which made you giggle but also replay the video a dozen times trying to figure out if there was really something there and you were the unaware one.

Needless to say, you weren’t able to reach a conclusion, but it felt different when you excused yourself to take a shower after spilling wine in your shirt and you felt Andre’s eyes on you all the way to the stairs. His hands on your shoulders felt heavier and the way he was attentive whenever you needed a refill or wanted a bite of food seemed more intimate and caring than ever.

Hitting the shuffle button, you chose your Taylor Swift playlist before entering the shower. The cold water cooled you off a bit, it was almost like washing out part of the alcohol in your system, but your tipsy mind kept finding evidence that Andre liked you back.

You went through your clothes finding a floral summer dress and sipping on your wine while brushing your hair. Your body was still feeling hot and at this point, you didn’t know if it was from the sun on your face or the alcohol in your system, but when you heard the first notes of “Dress” playing you knew you were going to do something stupid, especially because your cell phone was one arm away. If someone asked you where the idea came from you wouldn’t know what to answer, and usually thinking about how you didn’t have an answer was enough to make you give up on some stupid ideas...not this one though.

Reaching for your phone you unlocked it and walked to the body-length mirror in the room you were sharing with Callie. It took less than 2 minutes to snap a picture and send it to him and it took him less than 1 minute to answer it.

‘Woah’

‘You liked it?’ you sent back

‘Yeah, you’re looking good, cutie’ he answered just as fast, before sending a red heart emoji.

‘I don’t want you like a friend’

‘and I only bought this dress so you could take it off’

It was the exact line Taylor was singing when you reached the send button. You saw the dots appearing and disappearing and your body sobered up even more than before.

“Fuck!” you almost voiced. How would he look at you after this? Could you pretend you confused him with someone else? Of course not, he was the only Andre you knew! And everyone knew better you were not the bold flirty type.

That was it, your secret was spilled just like your wine on your shirt earlier, but now you wouldn’t be able to clean off the stain.

Would he believe it if you told him it was a prank to your new TikTok account?

You were lost in your thoughts before three knocks on your door startled you. And there he was when you pushed the door open. Standing with his hands inside his pockets and his hair still messy, he stared at you. It took maybe five minutes before he spoke, but it felt like an eternity considering his intense eyes studying you.

“You’re looking even better this close” for some reason his voice is low like he didn’t want anyone to hear and pop the bubble of the moment.

You feel your body getting hotter, pretty sure your face is turning even redder, so you reach your hands to both of your cheeks. That gets a giggle out of Andre and you instantly move them to your back, your eyes now staring at his bare feet.

All you wanted to do was bury yourself on a rabbit hole until Andre lost his memory, or you lost yours. You were thinking about the possibility of a secret society -Alice in Wonderland style- inside the rabbit hole that you could live in forever when Burki extended his hand, his palm facing you, silently asking you to put your hand in his. So you did. And it was only a blink of an eye before his body was closer, almost touching yours.

“You’re not that drunk, are you?” he questioned.

You shook your head no and he moved his hand to your waist as a message that maybe -and only maybe- he wanted to be close too. So you moved your right one to his large shoulders.

“I’m glad you’re not drunk…”

“I’m just a bit hot and bothered” and dying out of shame! You screamed inside your head.

“Oh sure you are”, he replied with a small smile playing at the corner of his pink lips. Your brows raised in confusion and before you could ask, he answered, “hot. You’re hot”.

“Does it mean you’re gonna take my dress off?” you have no idea when you got so bold, but Andre seemed amused with everything.

“No, not tonight. You’re not drunk, but you’re a bit tipsy, I don’t want to start things like this” his fingers are in your cheekbone and you lean into him. “I’m gonna kiss you though, can I?”

His lips, so different from his hands, were soft and hot. They found yours timidly, exploring the space while his body welcomed yours closer, he took his time before his fingers were in your hair and his tongue caught your lips.

It felt good.

Like never before.

For some seconds you wished to be able to capture the moment and save it forever. Repeat it in your head every day.

Andre played with the strings of your dress, slipping it off your shoulders and you got into your tiptoes to peck his lips one last time.

“So...I take you really liked the dress?”

“I actually like you, the dress is a bonus” he shrugs and you giggle before finding yourself wrapped in another kiss.

#andre burakovsky #andre burakovsky imagine #Colorado Avalanche #hockey imagine #mels writing #nathan mackinnon #tyson jost #erik johnson

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what-if-nct · 2 years ago

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i have a confession again-

the first few times we chatted, wasn’t me… it was my friend…

*le gasp*

alright, so the time that i was talking about the phone case and also the story wasn’t actually me. in fact, the reason why my friend pretended that i was speaking was because he felt like his presence was cursed.

meaning if he spoken to you in his actual account, he felt like you may hate him and then ignore him like what a lot of people do online.

he hasn’t been feeling good ever since that discord chat with the person telling him that he was a bad shawol and now his confidence level went low as well as his mental health as the situation just gets worse. he’s recovering now by the way and would like to chat to people like a kpop buddy.

he’s really sweet and he often thinks about others first instead of himself. he loves to dance to kpop songs in his room and write his stories on his phone. he’s really creative and is very passionate about nude art. so much that drawing nude art of jonghyun gives him joy and peace. he’s also practicing realism so he could confidently share it with people, mainly those he knew. which was the reason why he made a jonghyun drawing account where he could show me and his friends some art he has been trying to do and since he felt like tumblr was more like a nice space for artists, he would try to add some hashtags so he could find more likeminded people, but it only ever showed up some judgemental people.

also, he does make a little NSFW art as well which was mainly something he does for fun because he always wanted to make it ever since he learned about rule 34 and all that, but he didn’t know how to label his account as nsfw and even if he could, his friends may not be able to access the blog.

you may or may not know the blog’s name but due to the fact that he wants to keep himself private and doesn’t want anyone to blast him out on the internet, i think i would rather dm you the name. but yeah… he has been harassed for making art when really it was a coping mechanism for him. he likes nude art wether it’s rule 34 or not he has always had a passion for making something like that. now, his blog is now privated due to the amount of harassment he has received but he does show me some of his art in dms from time to time but since you cannot make a group chat since that has been taken off years prior (i believe), that’s why he made a blog, and plus we (including him) were new to tumblr which is why we didn’t know which hashtag to use so we would used literally everything that describes the picture such as #kpop #jonghyun #shinee and etc. people had rudely told us to not over tag our posts and due to the nature of their asks, we literally backfired back at them with some of my friends telling them that he’s new to tumblr and doesn’t understand how it works yet.

but he’s fine now and he even changed his url due to privacy in his name. he doesn’t want to be involved in anything and rather stick to his own fans on wattpad since that is his safe place.

if you’d like i could send you his url so you can chat with him and if he asks who are you, just say that i sent you because you’re a mutual. it may take him a while to open up (especially on social media) but trust me he’s so sweet and i promise that you’ll be such a nice friend to him!

frick- don’t know if i mentioned it but he was the one who was talking about the bling bling phone case which was few weeks ago so i don’t expect you to remember but yea… that was actually his art and not mine. although he did asked if i wanted one as well. (that’s how cute he is heheh-)

It really suck his experience in the fandom has scared him away from interacting with fandom. It wasn't fair for other fans to attack for miss tagging. Especially since you were new. I had a blog with a friend and she would over tag and we got kind of mean messages. And it sucks like she was just tagging as appropriately as she could, I honestly undertag cause I hate tagging I'm to the point if I can just put Haechan or Hendery thats all I'm going to do. I don't even like adding incorrect nct texts\quotes. And there is beautiful in nsfw are and if it makes him happy it genuinely isn't hurting anyone and he shouldn't be made to feel bad for it. And I would never ever ever ignore someone or turn anyone away unless someone is mean. Even then I'd still try to communicate. So he shouldn't feel afraid to talk to me. And he sounds like a wonderful person and if he'd like you can give me his url and tell him to come by anytime he wants oh by the way @hyunjins-fat-gf is my main blog so if that blog follows you, it's me. She is me I am her

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pinkandgreenroom · 4 years ago

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I was tagged by @mona-liar, thank you so much!!!! ❤❤❤

I tag @im-not-a-monster, @ojibways, @brrave-face, @soullessminyard, @pinktop-s, @thottiehardy, @acelucky

1. Why did you choose your url? I was 16 when I started this blog and I wanted to make sure no one in real life could find it so I somehow went with that name? Idk, I have always liked the pink and green colour combination I guess and this was the only good thing I could come up with (and tbh, I never found a better name so it stays) 2. Any side blogs? Nope 3. How long have you been on tumblr? Too long, since November 2011....UGH...it's gonna be 10 damn years in a few months.... 4. Do you have a queue tag? No, either I am online and go on reblog sprees or I am not and there is silence 5. Why did you start this blog in the first place? A friend of mine showed me this site and her blog and I thought it was interesting and half a year later I made myself a blog as well...tbh I started because I wanted to reblog pretty pictures and maybe use this a bit as a diary? And guess what I am still using this as. 6. Why did you choose your icon? Because the song slaps and their performance was so good, I am still grinning like an idiot when I think of it. 7. Why did you choose your header? Because that is a mood tbh and because he is drinking beer. Also I just happen to love this dude very very much 8. How many mutuals do you have? I have no idea...probably a lot but I only talk to a handful and with the rest it's just silently following each other and occasionally reblogging some stuff from each other 9. How many followers do you have? I don't know tbh? Like I never really check the number, I just see whenever someone new follows but that's it 10. How many do you follow? I literally have no idea, maybe around 300 people? But like half of them are probably inactive and I only follow them cause we're mutuals 11. Have you ever made a shitpost? Yes and they are my most popular posts for some reason -_- 12. How often do you use tumblr a day? Nearly every day for several hours....too much, I am trying to reduce it though 13. Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? Yes, some years ago...and it was super stupid and not really a fight but unpleasant nontheless...and yes it was my fault because I was a) incredibly stupid and b) unnecessarly hateful...but well, that is long in the past, now I can vagueblog better 14. How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts? I hate them so much and I usually try to ignore them 15. Do you like tag games? YES!!!! I love them!! 16. Do you like ask games? YES, I like to ask someone something and shower them with love and to recieve love in return!!! 17. Which mutuals do you think are tumblr famous? I can think of a few, mainly because their posts blew up or they are getting weird replies but tbh I have no idea 18. Do you have a crush on a mutual? No. I never had a crush on anyone so I wouldn't know tbh. But I know they are incredibly beautiful <3

#tag game #that was fun to do

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kbsd · 4 years ago

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not sure if you’ve answered this before, but what’s your process look like when you make an amv? i’m just curious and in constant awe of ppl who can make videos like you do :)

hello all!!! i have answered this before and i have a vid help tag with other asks i’ve gotten about stuff like this! but i’ve gotten several more messages along these lines so i’m just going to answer a bunch of them together (under a cut since i love to ramble about editing lol). i do just wanna say i’m definitely not the authority on video editing and obv everyone has their own techniques!

edit: i just finished typing all this up and it’s SO long so sorry in advance LMAO god bless anyone who reads this entire thing

so i work in news tv and we have a very specific workflow for writing scripts, sourcing video, producing, and editing. i’ve just applied that to making amvs! for every video i make, i copy the song lyrics into a google doc and adjust them to match the song i’ve cut (i often will trim songs for time and/or content purposes). then i start planning! i’ll mark down what clip i want to use for each lyric next to that line, and any sound bites i want to use (with episode numbers!). i’ll color code between video and sound bites and lyrics, so my scripts end up looking something like this (for my honeybee amv):

doing the planning ahead of time makes everything much easier when it’s a video that spans the whole show or involves a lot of sourcing, like honeybee or sports analogies. that way when i get to the actual editing process, i already know what i’m going to do and have a game plan. for videos like happy ending or believe it or not, where i’m mainly just pulling from a few episodes, i can just plan it in my head as opposed to writing it all down, and produce as i edit. obviously i do make in-the-moment decisions while editing—sometimes a shot doesn’t work the way i thought it would, or i go where the video takes me—but planning ahead definitely helps. i know some people use spreadsheets as well, with columns for lyrics, video clips, and sound bites if applicable. once you find a system that works, it actually goes pretty quickly.

as for sourcing clips themselves/finding clips within episodes, i talked about that here and kind of here. the short version is that transcripts are a must, and the supernatural wiki is hugely helpful by cataloguing all the hugs, prayers, phone calls, etc. in the show. gifmakers that tag episode numbers on their posts are your friends. it gets easier the more video you make—that’s another huge reason i make the google docs for each video (even the ones i plan in my head, i end up going back and making a loose script with episode notes just for reference). if i can’t remember where something is but i know i used it in another video, i can easily reference past scripts!

i also cut all my videos in the same project in premiere pro, so i can flip between them easily. instead of checking a past script, i can just go to the video sequence itself and copy the clip i’m looking for! this was especially helpful when i match cut together the 5x18 and 4x22 wall slam shots for my bestie video, and then stole it from myself for honeybee hahaha. at any given time i have at least 8 sequences open:

because of the sheer volume of videos i make, it’s worth it for me to download the entire show—i have all 327 episodes in HD, plus deleted scenes. if you think you’re only going to make a few videos, i’d start with scene packs. you can usually just google “destiel [or whatever ship/character you’re looking for] scene packs” and there will be any number of ones you can download. if you need other specific scenes, you can always download/torrent individual episodes or screen record netflix (that’s what i did before i got HD download links). i’m happy to share my links if you DM, but be warned it’s a lot of disk space (about 500GB on my hard drive). someone also compiled every destiel scene, downloadable here.

having every episode already loaded in premiere for all my projects also makes it a lot easier to source clips. once i use a clip in a video, i’ll put a marker on the episode file, so that after a while i have most of the important scenes/lines marked to easily find them. to give you an idea, this is my episode file in premiere for 12x10 lily sunder has some regrets (markers at destiel scenes, the car fight, hot girl cas, etc.). markers are the green tabs along the bottom:

premiere also lets you color code and name markers, so ONE DAY i will go back and color code them all. the ones above are all the same color, but in a perfect world, i’d have a myraid—for destiel shots like hugs, touches, looks; for important pieces of dialogue; for action shots; etc. but for now this works ok for me, so that’s a project for another time!

between detailed scripts, one giant premiere project, markers, the wiki, and my own memory, i have so many points of reference that i can usually find any clip i need in about 2 minutes max. sound bites are often harder to start out, or tiny specific shots i haven’t used before, and that’s when i turn to tumblr gifsets or beloved mutuals to crowdsource. but if you’re as obsessive about marking/keeping neat scripts as i am, it gets easier and easier with every video you make. that’s part of why i’m able to cut videos together so quickly. (also i want to stress i do this for a living and have to produce/edit a new piece for my show every day so i’m used to it. and compared to constantly updating content/sources and news that changes every day, 327 highly documented episodes that never change are much easier to handle hahaha)

this is all great for me since i make so many videos and plan to continue doing so, but if you’re only making a few, this level of work isn’t worth it imo. really it’s all about developing a system that works for you. whatever you do with episodes/sourcing, though, i cannot recommend planning things out in a script ahead of time enough.

everything i just mentioned is producing, though. for the editing process, i usually do it in this order:

music first. any parts i want to cut, i make sure it all sounds smooth

then soundbites. i usually try to weave them into the lyrics—i have characters talk in breaks between lines or instrumental sections as much as possible. i’ll sometimes go so far as looped/extending an intsrumental part to make room for the soundbite i want there lol. if i do have dialogue over a line, i do the sound mixing/levels at this point as well to make sure everything is audible/one doesn’t overpower the other. (also i always include the video that goes with these bites when i drop them in, and decide later if i want to show the character speaking or have other clips cover the dialogue)

once i have all the audio locked in, then i bring in all my other video clips. sometimes i edit completely chronologically, sometimes jumping from section to section—it depends on the song or how i’m feeling

double check sound mixing. i usually listen to my videos through a few times, with headphones and without to make sure it’ll sound good no matter how people watch it

once i have picture and audio lock, i go through and color correct my clips. i’m basic and just use lumetri color in premiere, and usually just play with brightness, saturation, temperature, and tint until i like it

render and export! :)

i always have several audio tracks, but i try to keep my video tracks condensed. i’ll drop clips on a V2 level, and edit a section there, and drop the whole chunk down to V1 so i know it’s finished. that way when i leave and come back i can know where i left off/what’s done/etc. to give you an idea, this is the timeline for my what the hell video:

i always render as H.264 with high bitrate, and make sure to check “render at maximum depth” and “use maximum render quality” for the best quality. i’m sorry, but i don’t know what the equivalent options are in final cut, imovie, kdenlive, etc. i post on youtube mostly so i don’t have to sacrifice quality, but usually just using a lower bitrate will get you under the tumblr file size limit and it’ll still look good.

as for the anon who asked about “polishing”: first of all, thank you!! second of all, it’s in the details. all of this is a matter of taste and my own insanity, but here are some little things i always try to do:

after i color correct, i blur out any credits from the starts of episodes. i use gaussian blur for this, but really any blur tool works

as much as possible, i avoid clips where we see a character’s mouth move but don’t hear the words. in tv/film we call it “lip flap” and i just think it looks messy. also i’m trained to avoid it at all costs at work hahaha. it’s more for serious videos that this matters a lot to me (e.g. i think i did a really good job eliminating lip flap in my happy ending amv)—for comedy videos i don’t sweat it as much

i put audio fades on the start and end of every single audio clip i use, even if i don’t think i need it, to make sure everything sounds smooth

i use markers for timing, especially in action-y videos like what the hell. i’ll put a marker on the clip i’m using at the exact moment a punch lands, and in the song on the beat. if i have the magnet/snap in timeline tool on i can just easily snap them together instead of having to spend time finagling it

this is such a small thing but i dip/cut to black for a tiny bit at the start and end of every video. this way if i post with tumblr video player, there’s black between the loops, and it gives you a beat before the video restarts. i do this even on videos i post on youtube, just because i think it looks nicer/more professional

this is 1,500 words so i’m going to stop myself before i pull something. if you have follow-up questions feel free to ask and i’ll continue to add them to the vid help tag, but any more questions about sourcing clips or my process in general i’ll just link this post going forward. anyone who made it this far, i am sending to a telepathic kiss. thank you for reading and happy editing!

#i typed this all up at 4am so i'm just scheduling it to post sometime today #ask #vid help

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tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

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i really thought hange was non-binary bc the one who said hanges gender was up for interpretation was kodansha us but isayama asked for gender neutral pronouns right?

here!

I’m gonna answer all of the gender asks in one go because for one, I don’t think I wanna flood my own feed and my own tumblr with the same arguments.

I think a lot of the questions on Hange’s gender and the topic of gender and sexuality overall are kinda intertwined and I feel like for anyone who actually reads my stuff, it’s better understood as one big wall of text.

So I was wondering, is that song the absolute proof about hange's gender?

No. I think the interpretation of the song which people are using to prove that Hange’s nonbinary is very western centric. I actually did research around this song and knowing what I know about Japanese culture, I actually interpret the song as a way for Japanese people to break out from gender norms.

For people who are not aware, Japan is incredibly strict with gender norms. The LGBTQ community is not as progressive as it is in Western countries (I mean gay marriage isn’t completely legalized yet). And just looking at it from the stand point of gender roles and gender expectations, despite the progressive thinking, there are a lot of things Japanese men and women have to conform to just to be respected in everyday society. Because in Japan, the community has always been more important than the individual and it’s honestly the same for most asian countries as well.

A lot of the pressure of living in Japan, working with Japanese people is the pressure to conform and I’ve seen my friends do it through small things like getting bangs (because all Japanese women have bangs apparently), wearing make up when going out (because this is generally an accepted for all Japanese people) and always dressing your best because in that manner women are held to an incredibly high standard in Japan. And this goes similarly for men who are constantly pressured to be the breadwinner in the family. If your wife is making more than you, be ready to hear people talk. I know these expectations exist in a Western setting too but Japan is incredibly stiff as a society and this is one reason why, despite having numerous opportunities to moveto Japan myself, I am not at all entertaining that possibility. I have worked in a Japanese company and I hated it and moved to a western company right after six months. I have completely accepted the fact that there is no mobility career wise from a non-Japanese (and a woman at that) in Japanese society.

In conformity, hierarchies etc, Japan is its own monster. That’s why when songs like Jibunrashiku, Hitchcock (by Yorushika) or Shisoukan (by Yorushika) come out, for one it’s in Japanese so I wouldn’t approach the songs from an English and as a Japanese speaker and someone who is pretty familiar with Japanese culture, I can’t help interpret that song as a social commentary for the shitty parts of Japanese society and how they tend to shoot the concept of an ‘individual’ down.

But does that mean I completely shoot down the idea that Hange is NB?

NO. Yams said so himself, Hange’s gender is unknown. But at the same time, Yams recognizes the fact that in the anime and in the live action, Hange is a female. If Yams were that adamant to make Hange NB, I think he would have at least made more of an effort to police how she is depicted in the anime and in the live action.

His exact words were:　「ハンジは彼（彼女）みたいな、ちょっと浮世離れした、枠にとらわれない自由な感じで描きたかったんです。」If I roughly translated it to English, “I wanted to draw Hange as someone otherworldly, free from the confines of gender.”

Tbh, I wanted to avoid these gender asks altogether but I’ve seen the environment in twitter and the ways many people approach gender, particularly ‘nonbinary’ or genderfluid and it really just doesn’t sit well with me. For one, what’s up with all these rules on how to approach our nonbinary and LGBTQ friends? What’s up with all these accusations that if we don’t follow them to a T, then we’re suddenly transphobic or homophobic?

The fact that we’re creating all these rules on how to go about her nonbinary gender for one, just defeats the whole purpose of Hange being a free bird in the first place who wouldn’t have cared and who wouldnt’ ever have been confined to gender in the first place.

I mean the establishment of set rules and social norms on how to navigate gender, sex, sexuality and gender roles is the reason why we had heternormativity in the first place. And what I can see, yes, we did get progressive, we did start recognizing other genders, other ways of thinking but the danger in all this is that, we’re once again creating frameworks and norms about how people that identify as these genders are supposed to act. And this defeats the whole purpose of why we recognized concepts of other sexualities, other genders and breaks from gender roles in the first place.

We wanted to show these people that their feelings are valid, that the way they’re navigating their relationships and their identities are valid and the heternormative society we’ve lived in that has been condemning for so long, was flawed, was wrong.

But the thing is, with the establishment of all these social norms on how to navigate our relationships with LGBTQ people and how to navigate our own gender, sexuality, sex and role is just making us regress back to that shitty heteronormative society of a hundred years ago. Because suddenly, everyone is questioning once again ‘How am I supposed to be feeling if I’m nb?” “How am I supposed to be feeling if I’m trans?” “How am I supposed to be feeling if I’m LGBT?”

And we’re creating these abstract ideas of how exactly, being genderfluid is supposed to feel like. Am I really supposed to be going by ‘they?’ Am I supposed to be uncomfortable with CIS pronouns?

And If I don’t go through this process… If I don’t feel this way then maybe I’m not NB? Maybe I’m not Trans? Maybe I’m not LGBT? And if I don’t conform to this clear cut idea of what NB is which people set up for me, god forbid I might just be transphobic or homophobic.

And Here’s the thing, everyone’s journey to self discovery is unique and there is no exact way to go about your gender or identity. I find it terrifying actually that creating all these clear cut rules have built misconceptions in so many people already on what they are supposed to feel like when they decide to identify with a certain gender which is no different from long ago when people had to hide the fact that they liked people of the same gender because god forbid they might just be persecuted for being gay.

Creating these frameworks, these incredibly strict rules on how someone is supposed to navigate relationships with LGBTs and their own personal identities is only making it all the more dangerous for people who are in the process of discovering themselves.

Back in college, I used to accompany a friend to a clinic when he was starting HRT treatments and before he started them, he had to consult with a doctor and the consultation lasted months. Before all that, they gave him a checklist of ‘feelings,’ which if he does experience them, he checks it and if he does check enough of them and agrees with a huge chunk of them, then he might have gender dysphoria and maybe the HRT treatments and sex reassignment was for him. It was a hundred item checklist, pages full of waivers, warnings and questions about his own experiences with his gender identity. And the fact that he had to consult for months after on that? There must be a reason.

Maybe because the academe realizes, maybe because those adept on the field on gender realize that gender is too complex of a subject to have been boxed into these categories in the first place.

And this whole discourse or I wouldn’t say discourse more of like, this ‘pushing of agendas’ as to say, ‘this is how being gender fluid or non binary is supposed to feel like’ this is how being transgender is supposed to feel like and if you don’t fit it to a T then you’re not transgender or you’re not nb. Or if you don’t fit it all, maybe you’re just transphobic is dangerous for many reasons. Either it gatekeeps people who want to explore their gender further. Or it forces people to have to conform to these and force themselves to ‘feel’ all of these things in the first place.

And god, this is just the gender issue, I haven’t even explored the sexuality, gender roles or biological issue.

i mean pronouns are important but they don’t really reflect someone’s gender??? like there’s people who use he/they, she/they or all pronouns(? they just don’t conform to gender binary ahaha

Given the environment on twitter and having witnessed the bullying first hand that came with one writer who is active on twitter using she/her pronouns for Hange, I feel like my own writing and my own POV on how I go about my writing and how I approach the gender of Hange (since I strictly use she/her) might just be a ticking time bomb and I might find myself at the end of whatever hate war or ‘education’ or as I like to just refer to as bullying, one day.

I believe though I at least have enough knowledge and awareness of the LGBTQ situation and I think I did put a lot of thought already into this before I made my decision to use ‘she’ to refer to Hange.

(And tbh, you can be nonbinary and you can be female at the same time and I’ve written about that multiple times already BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT EVEN IN THE SAME CATEGORY. And creating this mutual exclusivity between being nonbinary and female just kinda invalidates a lot of those people who are still deciding where exactly they fall in this complex web of identity discovery)

As someone who generally mainly hangs out with LGBT people and i have been doing this since high school by the way, and as someone who has tried all the sexualities on the spectrum, I talked to my asexual friends about possibly being asexual, I have experimented with women and sometimes, I just had dry spells and it just so happened that in the end of all these, I fell in love with a guy but I really believe that gender is such a flexible thing and even though I am with aguy right now, I still simp over lesbians, gays, ciswomen, transgenders because simping isn’t about gender.

And these set of rules on how to navigate genders is just invalidating the experiences of people who are flitting in between the two identities and it just hinders the process of self discovery for a lot of people.

Anyway, the point is, there is only one statement I found fundamental when approaching my relationships with the LGBT community and my own perspective on my self identity.

Recognition of someone’s feelings and their journey to a gender identity and the pronouns that come with it are important.

Then someone might go “THEN WHY DON’T YOU RESPECT HANGE’s NON BINARY PRONOUNS. Because just because someone is nonbinary doesn’t mean they automatically go for they. Just because someone is non-binary, doesn’t mean I have to use every single pronoun on the spectrum. The only one who can tell me what pronouns they want used on them is the person in question.

(I actually read an argument somewhere that going for ‘they’ just because someone is NB is transphobic lmfao. Assuming someone’s pronouns is apparently transphobic too lmfao.)

AND HANGE IS FICTIONAL. And we will never hear about which pronoun she would have wanted in the first place and I think the great ‘nontransphobic’ in-between is just letting people interpret characters how they want to interpret characters in this fictional world (And Hange can be both interpreted as nb and female). It’s the policing which makes the whole process of self discovery, the process of navigating genders all the more difficult for a lot of people.

And policing how exactly people should navigate gender and sexuality is just gatekeeping. Hange is everyone’s character. The only gender and sexuality identity people have complete jurisdiction on, is their own. And this policing of what exactly certain journeys to discovery are supposed to feel like is inherently harmful for those who are still in the process of deciding for themselves where they stand.

And going back to what Yams said “I wanted to draw Hange as someone otherworldly, free from the confines of gender/sexuality/gender roles.” I agree with that.

Because even though I do use ‘she’ with Hange, I do not firmly believe that Hange is a cisgender heterosexual female either. I just believe there are so many more layers to her whole identity and I believe similarly for every single person. Just concluding for one’s self that Hange is nonbinary with a very narrow minded view of what non binary just generally defeats the whole purpose of being ‘free from the confines of gender’ and hinders a lot of discourse and analysis on Hange’s identity over all.

I mean, I don’t know if people agree with this but in the decades I have spent with my close friends figuring out their gender identities, changing pronouns, transitioning, coming out to their parents, here is one thing I noticed. They weren’t asking for a celebration of their gender or sexuality, they weren’t asking for all these policing on how people should approach them. All they wanted was for their feelings to be validated, normalized as an everyday occurrence. I think the point of all these LGBTQ discourse (and by extension race and sex discourse) were all there to just make all these different identities normalized and to completely eradicate the concept of a negative bias or an other which was generally plaguing society for a long time.

And as their friends, I have never approached them as this champion who would make sure EVERYONE RESPECTED THEM IN THAT WAY IN TWITTER THEY BELIEVE LGBTQ PEOPLE SHOULD BE RESPECTED. All these nonverbal rules I have set up for myself on how to go about being friends with them is because I wanted them to be happy and comfortable in their shoes. And what were the types of things they appreciated? Me hiding it from their parents until they were ready to come out, me helping make their relationship work with their partner, me respecting the pronouns they requested for themselves, me accompanying them to HRT when their parents refused.

And you know what, that was only a facet of our friendships. My friends’ gender identities and sexualities never dominated discourse. None of them were the ‘token gay friend,’ the ‘token lesbian friend’ or the ‘token asexual friend’ or the ‘token NB friend.’ They were all people I genuinely care about who just happened to have fallen in love with someone of the same gender. They were just people who just happened to be uncomfortable with their original sex. But I would never just describe them as just that. My friend who just so happens to identify as assexual makes a great companion on a night out drinking. My friend who just so happens to be trasngender is really great with logistics and planning and was super helpful and I was eternally grateful when we worked together on that one project. My friend who just happens to be a lesbian has the cutest picture of her girlfreind on her phone screen.

I will memorize their favorite orders, what makes them tick, what makes them such a great companion, their talents, capabilities more than I will remember their gender. And that’s the characetr song in question is called “Jibunrashiku” or in English “just like me.” Because in the end a strict society which creates all these maxims of what exactly people of a certain gender should act would of course birth songs like “Just like me” A society which puts so much emphasis on gender and sex as an identity instead of other things like personality, preferences, skills etc.

And I don’t know if it applies to everyone. But my friends appreciate it because this journey to whatever gender identity they chose wasn’t rooted in some sort of strict framework on how they should be treated according to twitter. It was rooted in their own experiences and how these experiences made them feel.

Do they feel weird in a woman’s body? Do they just don’t feel any romantic attraction to the opposite gender?

Just treat them as how you would treat anyone else you respect. Just be a decent person. Just be a good friend.

Respect their requests for their own personal pronouns. If they need help, help them to the best of your abilities.

And here’s the thing, the approach I use with navigating identities, sexuaities genders are rooted in one very simple concept which can be applied to the race discourse, the feminist discourse etc etc.

Don’t be an ass. Respect people. Don’t reduce people to one facet of their identity. And by extension, when faced with such a dubious situation, think, discern for yourself what’s right or wrong. When there are people educating you, policing you on what is right or wrong, process that information objectively.

All I have here right now is my own opinions on the gender discourse on Hange and my own opinions on the discourse overall.

If you don’t agree with it, then have a nice day and I hope you find something else that will convince you to be more openminded but...

UTANG NA LOOB HUWAG LANG KAYO MAMBULLY NG TAO POTA. MAGHANAP NALANG KAYO NG IBANG PWEDENG GAWIN SA BUHAY MO.

ANG DAMING NASASAKTAN ANG DAMING NATRATRAUMA ANG DAMING NAWAWALANG GANA MAGSULAT KASI DI KAYO NAG-IISIP. PURO TIRA LANG.

Okay thank you for listening. Do what you want with the information up there but I have said my piece.

#hange zoe #hanji zoe #commander hange #commander hanji #meta

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beaubokuto · 4 years ago

Text

━ amnesia

pairing: shoto todoroki x f!reader

genre: angst

summary: shoto todoroki didn’t understand what went wrong when you broke up with him. he didn’t understand when you held his hand as you said goodbye. and he didn’t understand why you left him completely.

a/n: inspired by amnesia by 5 seconds of summer. also kind of inspired by a tik tok by @ leannaeileen ;D. i live for bakugou and todoroki friendship SO i added some of that in here hehe

tags: angst, swearing, suggestive humor, post break up, friends to lovers to strangers, sad, breaking up, pining, mutual pining, comfort, some fluff, characters are aged up, pro hero todoroki and pro hero reader, reader has an undescribed quirk, smut, dom!todoroki and sub!reader, rough smut, size kink

unedited

His eyes dart back and forth. He is most definitely seeing things correctly, but he wants confirmation. He needs confirmation.

Your eyes find his easily. The eyes which he has not seen in years.

His name slips off of your tongue with hidden nostalgia. He barely has time to process.

You look more beautiful now than you did when you left. Your hair is shorter, your skin clear.

You are the epitome of stunning.

Literally. He can’t move.

You weed your way through the human traffic of the mid afternoon streets to meet him. He greets you with a fake smile, though he quickly feels it turn into a real one. One he once only reserved for you.

“I cannot believe that I am meeting you in the streets, of all places.” You tell him once you are close enough. “I was on my way to meet some of the boys for lunch and catch up.”

Some of the boys. You meant Deku and Bakugou, he is sure.

Why didn’t they invite him?

“You look amazing.” Todoroki tells you before he can stop himself.

You take the compliment. “I try. You look good, too. But you’ve always looked good.”

He tries not to take it to heart despite the aching the casual conversation brings.

He tries not to think of you telling him that you loved him. He tries not to think about the ring that sits in his bedside table that he can’t seem to get rid of. He tries not to think of your lips on his.

He tries not to think about how you broke his heart with a few simple words and a plane ticket.

“This is awkward.” He finally says.

Your smile falters, but you nod nonetheless. “It is a bit awkward talking to strangers, huh?”

You were shaking as you grabbed his hand, connecting your skin for the last time. You traced your fingers over his.

You were hoping for a spark. A shiver of connection in that moment of weakness. And when you didn’t, you let go.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t do it anymore.” You told your boyfriend of years.

You expected him to question your reasoning. You expected an argument, a fight. You expected him to want you to stay. For him to ask you to stay.

But he didn’t.

Shoto Todoroki only stared at where your hands were just connected in his and said, “okay.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall for him.

You first met the boy during his years at UA. You weren’t in his class, but you ran into each other often. Whether it was in the hallway, or at lunch, it felt as though you came into contact with him more often than not.

“Are you stalking me?” You joked with him one day as you walked beside him towards the lunch hall.

Shoto Todoroki seemed to fluster for a minute, “No, no. No. We are just... going to the same place. At the same time.”

You giggled and nudged him with your shoulder. He wasn’t even knocked off of his balance a little bit.

“It was a joke, Todoroki.” You took your eyes off of him in favor of the hallway in front of you. “And since you aren’t stalking me, wanna sit with me at lunch?”

He started to question how you knew his name, but decided against it. Shrugging his shoulders and shoving his hands into his pockets, he said, “Yes, I’ll sit with you.”

The friendship blossomed slowly.

It was a helicopter leaf falling from the tallest tree, full of twists and turns and maybes and possibilities. It was a stone being skipped across a calm lake, creating ripples through the water and destroying the once stability in the most beautiful way possible.

It was watching a movie that you couldn’t take your eyes off of, no matter how desperately you needed to pee. It was reading a book that you couldn’t put down because you needed to know how it ended before going to sleep.

It was a cherry blossom in the spring, only to disappear come fall.

Because falling in love is falling out of a friendship.

“C’mon, Todo!” You begged, gripping his arm in an attempt to bring him with you. “Movie night! Everyone is going!”

He didn’t budge. He was effortlessly standing against your feeble attempt, hands in pockets and eyes on yours.

“What did I say about calling me that?” He asked.

You gave up and looked at him. “Fine! I promise that I will never call you Todo ever again if you come to movie night.”

There was a pause.

“Liar.”

And then a shrug.

“But fine. I’ll come.”

You first discovered that you were starting to fall for the boy during the winter.

You always thought that winter was the most beautiful time of year. Snow glittered the ground and casted the sky in bright whites and greys, lights for the holidays decked halls (or whatever the song says).

And one afternoon, you found Shoto sitting alone.

He was sitting at a desk in one of the empty classrooms, staring out of the window, eyes watching the snow fall from the sky to the gound below. You found yourself at the doorway.

Most of the others were gone for the holidays. It was winter break, after all.

“Please don’t just stare.” Todoroki interrupted the silence.

“Sorry.”

He didn’t lift his head as you walked to him, placing yourself in the seat in front of him.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing in particular.” He said. You knew that there was something going on in his mind, but you didn’t push it.

He finally glanced at you.

And that was your moment of realization. It was no drastic touch of fireworks, or static electricity that conducted at his touch. It was no bright flash of memories as your heart pounded.

It was the reflection in his eyes as he looked at you. You could see yourself in them, and that was the epiphany. The look of someone in love, and it was you.

You decided to ignore your realized feelings.

The love for him would remain to yourself. Mainly for the sake of friendship, but slightly because you knew that he did not feel the same way.

He realized that he felt for you very slowly. He didn’t know that it was love, at first.

He just knew that he felt very protective of you and he had never felt that with anyone before. He felt good with you by his side.

He felt his chest flutter when you could ask him about his day; he felt his hands shake at his sides when you would grab his upper arm when you laughed.

Todoroki hadn’t noticed that he was in love with you until Deku pointed it out. It was two days after returning from winter break, and they were sitting in the dorms.

Izuku Midoriya was Shoto Todoroki’s self proclaimed best friend. Although Shoto was incredibly individualistic and would rather sit by himself than hold a long discussion, he didn’t mind a friend.

“Are you going to tell her that you’re in love with her?”

Shoto turned to him, confusion masking his features. “What do you mean?”

Deku giggled. He tilted his head. “You’re so funny.”

“I wasn’t making a joke.”

Deku laughed again. This time he turned to his friend with a slight smirk, a quip on the edge of his lips. “You’re in love with her. We talk about it all the time! You are there most of the time when we do.”

“Oh.” Oh.

You were laughing, tears close to spilling over your cheeks. Shoto even had a small smile.

Deku and Bakugou had just gotten into (another) argument. It was about something stupid, as it was more often than not. It was only a week into spring and you didn’t realize how accustomed you had gotten used to being in the dorms with only Shoto as company.

Katsuki Bakugou ended up calling Deku a series of names, and ended the argument with a solid, “This is why you eat alone at lunch, you piece of shit cumrag!”

And that is was caused a series of laughter through the classroom. Classes hadn’t begun yet, so you were sitting next to Mina Ashido and Hitoshi Shinso along with Todoroki and Tenya Iida.

Sensai Aizawa interrupted with a simple opening of the door.

“Get to your respective classrooms.”

A bunch of you got up, some with small smiles and some with fear of being yelled at. You left, too, but not without mouthing a small “piece of shit cumrag?” to Todoroki.

He still hid a smile even after you were gone.

“I think you’re handsome.” You told him one afternoon.

He was in your dorm room. He spent a lot of time there, if he were to be honest. Sometimes Bakugou, or Mina, or Shinso or some other students he didn’t pay attention to would come in. You were good friends with Mina and Shinso from the other class, so Todoroki knew them by name at that point.

But that day it was just the two of you. You had a movie playing as background noise. You were sitting next to him on your bed, centimeters between touching.

It took him by surprise, causing him to look at you with a raised brow.

“Thanks.” He responded, cautious. “What made you say that?”

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “I was just thinking it so I said it.”

Your relationship with him was ninety percent you flirting with him and laughing and touching him and one percent him rolling his eyes with a smile. Even before your realized feelings, you found yourself naturally flirting with the boy.

“Well, I think you are handsome too.”

You chuckled at his attempted joke and pushed his head with your hand.

When you first became friends, he was startled at your endless flirtations. He had never met someone who flirted openly the way you did.

He knew that you did it for the tension, that you liked to tease. You flirted with everyone. But he felt kind of... different when he watched you flirt with other people.

You had joked about “exploding” with Bakugou, flirtations effortlessly releasing from your lips when Todoroki felt the need to leave.

“It’s called jealousy, dumbass.” Bakugou told him.

Being in love with Shoto Todoroki was much like being in love with silence.

It was being in love with a quiet library. It was sitting alone at the beach with only him beside you, no words between you. It was a breeze through leaves with no animals around to hear.

It was rummaging through old boxes and finding books you used to read. It was the taste of vanilla ice cream.

You were the one who broke through the silence.

“Can’t I spar with anyone else?” Todoroki asked Sensai Aizawa. The students all turned their attention to him.

It was some random training day. Three classes came together to spar and practice their quirks against each other, randomly assigned by the teachers.

And when Aizawa said your name alongside Shoto Todoroki, you were excited. He, however, was not.

“No, your partner is picked.” Aizawa said. “Now get to it.”

“Sorry, but I will not be participating today.” Todoroki said as an announcement. “I would rather fail this than fight her. Thanks.”

You spun on your heels to face him. “You’re kidding.”

When he didn’t say anything, you stared him down. “Todo, it’s just sparring.”

“I don’t want to spar you.” He turned his attention back to the teachers. “Can I spar Deku? Or Bakugou? Someone more... powerful?”

You could not believe it. You chuckled humorlessly, causing some of the students to mutter under their breath to each other.

“Someone more powerful?” You crossed your arms. “C’mon, let’s fight. You want someone more powerful, you’ve clearly never witnessed me pissed off. C’mon.”

“No.”

You let out another chuckle and rolled your eyes. “No?”

“No.”

“Fine.” Aizawa shrugged. “Todoroki, you’re with Deku. Bakugou, calm down your new partner before she gets as angry as you.”

“No, sir.” You whipped your head back to the front. “I think I’m good too.”

You were livid. You had never felt that much anger and embarrassment erupt through your body. It started as a small irritation, but soon you were burning with the heat of anger.

Shoto Todoroki followed you.

“Hey, wait.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” You didn’t turn around as you stormed to your room.

He didn’t stop following you, turning through the corridors behind you. You might as well be steaming through the ears.

“Why are you so mad at me?”

“Because I’m in love with you!” You confessed, pure anger diminishing your filter. You couldn’t stop words from falling from your lips as you turned to him. “Because I’m in love with you. And it’s humiliating to basically be called weak by the guy you’re in love with in front of everyone. Because I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends. And that’s why I didn’t want to fight you.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Just fuck off, okay.”

No one had seen you for days following.

Most figured that you didn’t want to see your best friend, others made up stories of you leaving campus. None of them knew that you had confessed to said best friend and got nothing in response other than “we are friends”.

You were wallowing in self pity and anger turned sadness.

“If you’re going to drop out, do it.” Shinso said.

He was one of the people you didn’t mind still having around. He had no correlation to the two-toned boy you were avidly avoiding. And, to be honest from both sides, he liked to have someone who wasn’t scared to talk to him.

“I’m not dropping out. It’s been two days.” You threw a pillow at him. He caught it. “Two days is not a long time to get over the love of your life.”

You left your slump after another couple of days.

When you emerged from your pity party, you looked like garbage. You tried your best, you truly did, but you couldn’t get rid of the bags under your eyes and the exhaustion on your features.

You hadn’t even cried. You were just tired, and tired of being angry.

You managed to avoid Todoroki for a majority of the day, though you did manage to get stares. No one was subtle at UA.

Until lunch.

The second you entered the lunch room, you knew that you should walk right back out.

As soon as you walked in, your eyes found Todoroki’s. It didn’t take long. You always found your way to him.

You immediately looked away and sat next to Mina and Bakugou.

"You have to tell her now.”

They were all there: Deku, Bakugou, Kirishima, Uraraka, Iida, Tsu, Sero, Denki and Jiro. And all of them were staring at Shoto Todoroki.

“I...”

“No excuses.”

“You have to tell her.”

“Did you see her, idiot?”

“She looks miserable.”

“You gotta tell her.”

“This is peer pressure.” Todoroki stated.

“Yes.” Deku nodded. “But it’s the best kind.”

"Hi.”

Your step stuttered and you froze in your spot. You found him standing at your room door, hands clasped behind his back.

You couldn’t help but wonder how long he had been waiting for you to return to your room.

“Hi.”

“This is awkward.” He said.

“It is a bit awkward, huh?” You shifted on your heels.

“I wanted to tell you that I am sorry.” He said. You started to interrupt, but he stopped you, “Please don’t say anything until I’m finished. I am sorry. I should have just sparred you, it was not that big of a deal. I made it one.

“You are a big part of my life. You have always been a friend to me, and because of my recent adaptation with my quirk... I didn’t want to hurt you. That’s why I didn’t. Not because you aren’t strong, your quirk is not weak in the slightest, but because I was worried about accidentally hurting you.

“I should have told you that instead of just being dismissive. I realize that. I didn’t realize, though, that it would make you as upset as it did.

“And I also should have told you that I love you, too.”

You shook your head. He could have said a lot more, but you stopped listening. You had to face downward instead of looking him in the face.

“You’re shaking your head.”

“I’m sorry.” You held back a smile as you looked back to him. “It’s just... I wasn’t expecting you to tell me that you love me.”

“I didn’t realize it as quickly as I should have.”

“You could have taken a hundred years.” You reach for his wrists. “Thank you for your apology, I know that you had to be talked into it.”

His eyes flickered between yours. “You know me pretty well.”

“I know you better than most.”

The start of the relationship was the happiest you had ever been. You understood why people called it the “honeymoon phase”.

You were nothing but smiles, and everyone was surprised to see him smile and gleam at your presence too.

Neither of you were for public displays of affection, but one thing the both of you did like was holding hands. You liked the feeling of his fingers intertwined with his, and his warmth or coolness depending on which hand you found yourself holding (Yes, his quirk did that. It was kind of cool.)

He liked the feeling of your hand in his, too. He liked having your support, the structure of you holding onto him.

He also noticed how you didn’t flirt with anyone else anymore. You were still pretty outgoing and kind and funny, but you stopped your funny flirtations with the others. Not with him, though.

“Dang, my boyfriend’s looking sexy today.” You jokingly nudged him.

He knew that he looked the same as he did every day.

Shoto Todoroki rushed into your room with tears staining his cheeks.

You instantly shot up in your bed, staring wide eyed and fully awake despite being asleep minutes before. You didn’t need to know what time it was.

“Todo?”

He didn’t say anything as he just came over to you and planted his body next to yours. You didn’t say anything either as he curled into your body with his head on your chest.

You laid back down and took him down with you. You wrapped the covers around you both and ran your hands through his mixed hair.

You didn’t care about a boy being in your room in the midst of the night. You didn’t care about getting caught, or someone asking questions when he left in the morning.

You cared about your boyfriend’s tears that stained your shirt.

“Get some sleep, you’re okay.” You whispered to him and planted a kiss to his forehead.

That was one thing that Shoto loved about you.

You didn’t ask him questions, you didn’t push him to explain himself and his feelings to you. He was aware of his social constipation, and you didn’t force him to speak about things he didn’t want to.

It was the little things.

Kissing came naturally between you two.

The first kiss was nothing special, but it was the most special thing for the both of you. It was a goodnight kiss, one that he planted on your lips as if it were a second thought when in actuality it was something he had been considering since he woke up that morning.

It was a small peck on your lips, a second when everything seemed to fit perfectly together.

After that, the kisses were often in the absence of others. He would kiss you goodnight before going to his own room, or you would steal kisses between homework and study nights.

He found out that you liked to be kissed on the neck, so he did it more often. Every once in a while, he would sneak one while giving you a hug after lunch.

It was everything you asked for and more. The butterflies never left either of your stomachs every time your lips connected.

Growing up with Shoto Todoroki was full of love and light.

You watched as he grew into his powers. You watched as he grew stronger and lighter, watched as he slowly started to become confident in himself. You watched him become himself, finally.

And he watched you, too. Watched you grow alongside him, become a better person and hero. He watched as you became confident in him, too.

You grew together. You grew into individuals and a couple all at once.

It was the beauty of love: everything was all at once and not at all.

“You should move in with me.” Todoroki told you over dinner one night.

You were in a fancy restaurant, and it was a date that he planned. You thought that he might propose, you had an inclination that Deku had been hinting at it for the last couple of months.

“That was more of a statement than a question, Todo.” You took a sip of the expensive wine.

“More of an observation.”

You giggled and took his hands in yours. “Do you want me to move in with you? Or is this something one of the guys put into your head.”

“If I did everything they wanted me to, we would be married with five kids by now.” He joked. “But I am serious about you moving in.”

“Then fine.” You moved back in your chair. “I’ll move in with you.”

Growing apart was something unexpected and unfathomable until it happened.

It was slow, small things that made you notice the distance. The sleeping facing apart at night, the small pecks instead of passionate kisses. Saying “goodbye” more often than “I love you”.

It was different, to be in love as teenagers and to be in love as adults.

One of the first fights you ever had was a rough one. It started with an argument about safety, and then it spiraled into a fight about more than that.

You were yelling while he was frustrated. He rolled his eyes at your angry taunts, only egging you on. You couldn’t get your point across and neither could he.

“Can we just drop it?”

And that was the end of it. You didn’t bring up the fact that he said “that’s why I was in class 1-A and you weren’t” and he didn’t bring up the fact that you said that his “family trauma had nothing to do with you now”.

The next several days were full of tension and near silence.

In the midst of the distance between you two, he came home late one night with gloom drenched over him.

He didn’t say anything as he ran into your arms, and you took him in without a second thought.

“You’re home now, it’s okay.” You told him with your voice muffled against his chest.

You felt him nod against you. He grabbed you tighter and pulled you impossibly close to his body.

Neither of you thought about the tension from the previous fight. Because you were overwhelmed in love for each other.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You offered. Your hand still found solitude in his hair.

Todoroki shook his head and brought himself back. He held his hands on your hips, maintaining his touch on you. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” You placed your hands on his face, wiping away stray tears. “Some days are harder than others.”

He kissed you then. His lips matched with yours similar to how puzzle pieces line perfectly with each other. This kiss was soft and bound with his love for you, passion behind it and breaking through the cracks.

You and Todoroki had done a lot of things in the past. Turns out, he was pretty kinky, not that you complained. He had tied you up; you’ve been blindfolded and spanked. Name it and you two have probably tried it.

This time you could tell that there was something different, he kissed you with softness that was usually found only in aftercare.

You let him lead you to the bedroom, let him lay you on the bed. Your lips never left his for more than a second or two.

“Todo...”

“Shhh, don’t speak.” He planted kisses down your neck. He kissed to your colar and left the lightest kisses to your breasts.

Your back arched when he kissed your ribs, and you felt him smile as he kissed your stomach. His hand traced your thighs so lightly that he was nearly hovering.

“Let me use you for the night.” He looked back up to you with pleading eyes. “Please.”

You didn’t think twice, you just nodded. You had done it before, and if you were honest you didn’t mind. That was all he needed to pull his hands down, taking his underwear with it.

His size never ceased to make you nervous and mouth water all at once. Since high school, Todoroki became bigger in stature. He was buff, tall, and just overall... large. And his cock was not much different.

His fingers rubbed you only twice before he lined himself up.

On instinct, you put your hand against his thigh in efforts to keep him out. He looked down at you. You brought your hand back, giving him the go ahead.

You weren’t wet enough to take him, but he bottomed out either way. The pain made you ache and your back arch again.

“Shit,” You moaned. He brought himself out and back in, slamming into you. “Fuck!”

He was splitting you in half. And you wanted him to.

You would wake up to cold sheets and fall asleep to silence.

You would work alone with a smile plastered on your face only to come home and feel the emptiness.

“You would be perfect for the position here!” The voice on the other side of your phone said, muffled only slightly by the speaker. “We look forward to your decision! Take as much time as you need.”

It was the happiest you had been in a long time, bringing a bright feat to your mind at the thought of moving somewhere else with such an amazing opportunity.

Some of the divisions in Europe had teamed with the States. They offered you a pro hero job that fit your quirk perfectly, and they wanted you to come by the next month.

It would be faultless.

When the door opened to signal that your boyfriend had arrived home, you rushed out to greet him. “Guess what?”

He blinked up at you for only a millisecond. “What?”

“I got offered a job!” You couldn’t stop smiling. “It’s overseas, so I want us to talk about it.”

“That’s great.”

His voice nearly mocked your excitement, monotone and deep. He was bored.

Your heart shattered. “ You don’t have to come with, of course; but if you don’t want to come we can figure out long distance. It would be--”

“Why don’t we talk about this more later, yeah?”

You were frozen in place. You wanted a bit of excitement. You wanted a hug, a congratulations. He knew that you had always wanted to travel, that this was the perfect opportunity for you to chase your dreams.

Your entire mood dropped the second he shit all over that.

“Yeah, yeah.” He kissed your cheek as he walked past you. “Welcome home.”

Talking to Shoto Todoroki was not much different than talking to a brick wall.

You would voice your concerns only for him to wave you off. He would tell you not to worry, he would tell you that everything is fine when it clearly was not.

“We should talk.” You told him as you readied yourself for bed.

“Can we talk tomorrow?” He asked with his eyes closed. “It’s been a long day.”

The same response you would get every day.

“Sure.”

You would talk the next day.

Falling out of love was much like falling into it.

It was turning off a light before bed, the lightbulb taking it’s time to dim out. It was watching the water drain from the bathtub until the last drop fell. It was a forest fire in the rain.

It was redecorating your bedroom and liking the new layout much more. It was the feeling of drinking water after running suicides. It was sitting down after standing for hours.

It was a cherry blossom in the spring, only to disappear come fall.

Because falling out love is falling out of everything.

“I’m so sorry, but I can’t do it anymore.” You told your boyfriend of years.

You expected him to question your reasoning. You expected an argument, a fight. You expected him to want you to stay. For him to ask you to stay.

But he didn’t.

Shoto Todoroki only stared at where your hands were just connected in his and said, “okay.”

You had placed your ring into his palm.

You stood to collect some of your things, just little things that you were going to take with you for the night. You expected him to watch you. You expected him to catch your eye at least once.

He didn’t.

He didn’t move at all, still staring at his hands that stayed clasped on the table. He didn’t look up at you, didn’t acknowledge you putting your shoes on.

You were at the door when he finally jumped from his seat and spun around. He raced to the hallway of the apartment complex.

“Why?”

You froze in your spot. Your heart broke in your chest, splintering every bone in its wake.

You turned around.

“Why?” You repeated.

“Why?” He visibly swallowed. “Why can’t you do it anymore?”

Your eyes flickered between his. You could see the unshed tears lining his eyes, and you could feel yours as well. But you mainly witnessed his confusion, his anger that burned beneath the heterochromatic eyes you fell for.

“Why can’t I do it anymore?” You repeated again, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “Shoto, we’ve been walking on eggshells for the past year! I have been holding my breath every single day, not knowing if I were going to see the warm or cold side of you that day. We would go weeks without talking, without looking at each other. Do you really want that in a relationship?”

Todoroki started to make an excuse, to form an explanation. But no words could come out.

He started to speak your name when you stepped closer to him.

You took his hands into his again, and he felt as though he was simply a speak of sand on a beach beneath your touch.

“Shoto, I love you. I have always loved you, and I will always love you.” You stared at the intertwined fingers. He wished you would look up at him. “And you claim that you love me back, but I truly don’t think that you do.

“Because what our relationship has been... that hasn’t been love. It’s been pain, over and over and repeated again and again. For you to be in love, it means letting me in. Letting me get close to you and know your thoughts and feelings.

“And you have never allowed me the pleasure of getting to know you.”

You finally looked up at him with those beautiful eyes. The beautiful eyes that were filled with tears at that moment, the beautiful eyes he caused that much pain to.

As he stands in front of you, Todoroki imagines a life without you in it.

He imagines a world in which he never met you, never found friendship in you. Never fell in love with you. It is nearly impossible, you are such a profound person in his life.

He wonders if he can forget about how your smile makes his stomach churn.

“Do you want to come with?” You offer. You motion to the streets behind you. “Do you want to come to dinner, too? I’m sure the guys won’t mind.”

Todoroki hesitates.

Your presence alone is overwhelming. It’s been years and he can feel his heart pound in his chest when your eyes meet his. He can still feel his head cloud at the sound of your voice.

He desperately wants to hug you, to feel your skin against his again.

“I don’t know if...”

“Oh, please no stupid excuses.” You say. “Please?”

And then, “I miss you.”

He doesn’t wait a second more, “Yes. I’ll come.”

masterlist

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shadowturtlesstuff · 4 years ago

Text

Dress

reputation-cressworth

so the song dress by taylor swift screams cressworth to be, the sort of mutual pining and honest love they have for each other. so i wrote a semi canon but not at all canon peice. (4k words)

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The night was lasting forever, time dragged on as people danced and drank and celebrated, despite there still being a murderer roaming the streets and slaughtering innocent women. They acted like they could never be injured by the killer just because of their class, when for all anyone knew the killer was in this room right now plotting. I hoped they started with me, just so I didn't have to experience this torture any longer; although it was highly unlikely seeing as they focused on lower class women. A pity, really, I could think of many who deserve it more. I could think of only one one person in this room that perhaps didn't deserve to suffer the fate three women already have.

Audrey Rose Wadsworth.

Perhaps my only friend in this god-forsaken world. One that I cannot even spend time with, as one would like. It's an absurd notion but one that I can't ignore otherwise I've no job and I don't think Jonathan Wadsworth would take me on knowing I’m currently working for his rival, even if I quit myself and I did everything in my power to show off my exceptional talents and gain his trust. Especially if he finds out I'm madly in love with his niece; and have been for awhile. I must admit it was never my intention to do so, or to even be her friend, but when you are trying to solve the same crimes you tend to run into each. Often. And so overtime we became friends, begrudgingly on her part. Then, when we faced danger a few weeks back, and I thought I'd lose her over my actions and Oliver's inability to tell me the truth, we kissed. Since then we have been trying to navigate our feelings whilst also pretending to not know each other. It is incredibly difficult not to walk over to her now, take her hands and offer a dance. To then kiss her and watch her cheeks redden and her to smile at me. To know I made her smile. Each smile melts the coldness of my heart that I've spent years creating to protect myself. I believed I needn't ever need a friend nor wife. Yet, perhaps, someday Audrey could be both of those and we wouldn't need to freeze our hearts to protect ourselves.

All night I've been trying to catch her gaze but her eyes refuse to meet mine, at least with my knowledge that is. I caught her staring when she believed I was otherwise engaged in something so that I wouldn't notice. I notice every time. It's been a fun game, the only good thing about this evening. It is someone's birthday, someone my father deems important enough to drag me along too. Even though he hates me, and I him. Even though I have no intention of finding a wife this way or taking over his business. Audrey Rose was an unexpected gift, at this party and my life. I hadn't realised she'd be here with her family but I should have assumed. Or asked, but we had only seen each other once since the kiss and most of that time was spent discussing corpses and the no longer occasional flirting. She is remarkably good at getting under my skin, at leaving me without words and making me want to just hold her in my arms for both our sakes. Her uncle and my boss would be furious if they found out we'd been sharing theories, but unlike my boss I want to solve the case to get a murderer off the streets and not the fame; Audrey Rose is utterly horrified by the grotesk way women are being violated. So the more we work together the faster we can solve it for good.

‘You think they know more than us?’ I hear vaguely, I pull my eyes away from Audrey Rose and grimace. Mr. Douglas caught me staring but assumed it was over Jonathan Wadsworth and about the murders.

“There's a high chance sir.” Mainly due to the man's ignorance and my inability to share my ideas with him. He takes a seat next to me so I sit straighter and force myself not to look at Audrey Rose. “I've heard the girl, what's her name?”

“Audrey Rose Wadsworth, sir.” I tell him as plainly as possible.

“Right, sure. I've heard she's helping him. I've no idea why such a pretty thing would waste her life pretending to be a detective but-”

“What?” I was going to strangle him. His complete and utter ineptitude towards Audrey Rose, to how women truly were versus what they are perceived as in society was astonishing. I would truly strangle him if I wasn't as shocked. And if I didn't have to hide my feelings for her.

“I know I was baffled when I heard it too, she'll make herself unavailable if she keeps the way she's going.” he doesn't take his eyes off her as if he wanted to be the one to make her unavailable and not science. Even though that notion was outrageous. I rolled my eyes at him as a brilliant idea struck.

“Hear me out, sir, what if I pursue her? I mean if she is one for science she will know about the case and I doubt she knows me so I can easily charm her and I can get whatever information I can to help us solve the case faster.” I try to explain my plan in a non desperate way. Hopefully he will think I believe Audrey Rose is incapable of figuring out deceit and that she'll just spill her guts to me; that I don't care about the case. When, in reality, I just want one dance with her. I'm exasperated in hiding my feelings and it's only been a few weeks. Maybe it would be a lot easier to try and beg for an apprenticeship with Jonathan Wadsworth than deal with this misogynistic self centered-

“Not a half bad idea. For once you have got a decent plan. Although maybe I should be the one to charm her, seen as your, well, you have as much charm as a brick wall to put it simply. So let me-”

“I'm more than capable.” I say and get out of my chair and start striding towards her before he can get there first. If he even opened his mouth to her she would berate him so heavily that he would have to hibernate until people forget. Not that Audrey Rose is forgettable in any way. Maybe I should've let him try first just to see that. Alas, I need to at least have a conversation with her. I made my way to her table, her father and brother were conversing and her uncle looked about as miserable and irritated as I did. Audrey Rose just looked bored.

She looks beautiful though, her pale green and blue dress offsets her darker features and highlights her dazzling eyes. The light reflects off her perfectly, showing her sharp features and illuminating her mothers necklace at her chest. When I finally reach her table her eyes find mine and red begins to line her cheeks and her brows furrow at the sight of me. I notice slightly her father and brother cease to be as they look at me as well.

“May I borrow your daughter for a dance, sir?” I asked him. He looks confused but I'm sure he realized who I am. Who my father is. I'm sure his mind is filled with implications about what the title could do for him if we were to be wed.

“Cert-”

“No.” her uncle interjects. Her father looks furious, brother amused and her aunt; I hadn't even noticed her aunt was there with I assume her cousin.

“What do you mean no? She's my daughter I suggest you-”

“No. Mr. Cresswell, what are you doing? You do not wish to seek out my niece for the case do you? If so, leave now.”

I blink at the tone. Of course he'd see through it; however he is technically wrong.

“No sir, I can see why you'd think that but I truly wish to dance. Your daughter is captivating.” I would rather seek the end of the killer's knife than continue this conversation.

“I shall dance with you Mr. Cresswell.” Audrey Rose seems inclined to inflict the same fate as me. Without listening to the rest of her family she walks towards the dance floor so I follow her. She hesitantly puts her arms on my shoulders and I put my own on her waist. I feel lighter than I have all evening; as though I've had many drinks of champagne and Mrs Harvey's tonic. I give her a genuine smile and feel her own tension release.

“I'm glad you saved me. I've been dreadfully bored.” She greets me in such an improper and Audrey Rose way that I laugh.

“I'll always be the one to save you Wadsworth. I am your Dark Prince. Be sure to think about me and my heroic nature whenever you're alone.”

“Please.” She begins as we start to sway, “I have more important things to consider than you.” She tries to be serious but it is not her strongest ability when talking to me.

“You look beautiful, Audrey Rose.” She rolls her eyes at me despite her blush. “The dress is magnificent, compliments you perfectly, although completely unnecessary, I'm sure you are perfectly capable of rendering me speechless without a dress on at all.”

Her eyes widen at such scandalous words and her cheeks redden even more but her eyes dazzle with the promise of mischief. “You claim I render you speechless yet you still speak? Are you lying or just horribly bad at compliments? Or, you hate the dress but need to charm me nonetheless?”

“Wadsworth, darling, please, do you really think that little of me? I'm merely stating the obvious, it's what I do best. And I don't need to charm you when you are already infatuated with me. If I were you I would be. And as much as you truly render me speechless with your brilliant mind, I adore your body too, an added bonus, but I will always be able to tell you how astonishing you look.”

She focuses on my face, searching for something, perhaps a lie but she finds none and smiles at me, the sweetest little smile, and I debate placing a chaste kiss to her smiling red lips to also show her how honest I am right now but know that I cannot. Not yet. So I pinch her waist slightly and she lets out a tiny squeak and pinches me back.

“It is a good job you are not me then isn't it?” She recovers perfectly and has the audacity to look smug at me. I press my hand to my chest and gawk at her. I'm losing the battle of wits, unsurprisingly, so I move the conversation along to try and turn it back in my favour.

“I've enjoyed the game tonight, our secret moments in this crowded room no one knows about. Each little glance at me gives my heart a rush. Makes it worth being at this blastidly boring event. I've missed you.”

We remain in comfortable silence, my last confessions washing over us both.

“When does this get easier?” She whispers to me, her eyes finding mine, glassy as she contemplates what is running rampant in her mind. “I want to stay with you all night, but after this we must return to our lives, I go back to being judged for my curiosity and you will go back to the animatronic villain the world thinks you are. When does it get easier Thomas?”

I keep us spinning, holding onto her waist and not ready to let her disappear. She's right. It's a horrible wait to be away from her and having to wear my armour everyday. It's even harder for her to try and have a career in science and not have someone by her side, completely by her side. There must be something we can do, I can do, to make our lives better.

“Wadsworth, how much does your uncle hate me?” A plan begins to form in my head. One I've been debating for a while. Her eyes narrow knowing I have a plan but she must be so tired as she doesn’t bother asking what and says:

“He doesn't hate you, at least I don’t think he does. He- he isn't a person who gives positive opinions on anyone. Even me. But no, I do not think he hates you, just Mr. Douglas. Oh but he doesn't like that you are working against us. For him no less.”

“It's not ideal, I despise him, he doesn't care about the cases, but of the fame; it makes me near vomit whenever he speaks about the women- or any woman for that matter.”

She hums in agreement, her uncle must have told her all this. “Audrey Rose, if I were to quit would your uncle offer me an apprenticeship?”

“I think so but why?”

“There are more benefits in working with your uncle than that egotistical man. The main one being right in front of me.” The words leave my mouth before I consider the consequences. I feel her grip on my shoulders tighten slightly, her gaze fixed intently at my eyes, seeking something, and her body has stopped swaying to the music. I smile, hoping to convey the utmost truth in my words. She sees it and begins to sway again, looking away and trying to calm her heart. I attempt the same.

“You could talk to my uncle tonight, I'm sure he'd much rather discuss the case or anything remotely close to work rather than listening to my aunt.”

“Would you want me to work alongside you Wadsworth because if not I can-”

Her head whips up to me and I cringe, I've said something wrong, I just assumed she wanted to see me. “Do not finish that sentence Thomas. Of course I want you to work with me and my uncle.”

“My brilliance is desperately needed isn't it? I mean you cannot resist my charm.” I smile and her own graces her face and the mere sight of her happy because of me makes my heart want to burst. I'm almost certain it will. She quickly acts unimpressed and rolls her eyes at me.

“No, I'm merely the one saving you from that- that man before he rots the only decent part of your brain.” She smirks at me and it's my turn to roll my eyes.

“If you are the one saving me, will you be like the heroes in the books, because I do recall that they always give their saved maidens a kiss once they are saved?”

Her eyes widen and her cheeks turn a deep red as she hits my arm lightly. I take that as yes as I laugh at her. The song is ending, and we've already had two dances. I should take her back to her table, I should talk to her uncle. I should do anything but kiss her. But I want to.

Thankfully she has more self control and leads us back to her table. I stand awkwardly until she rolls her eyes at me and pushes the chair next to her with her feet for me to sit. I scowl at her slightly before meeting the gazes of all the males in her life and I revisit my early thought to perhaps dance with the murderer instead. Her father orders one of the waiters to bring a glass of champagne but I'd rather smoke. Not that this is a place to do so. The silence drowns me as the glass is set in front of me. My hands find the base and I begin to mess with the glass. Now would not be the best time to bring up the case because Jonathan Wadsworth is glaring at me. His brother elbows him slightly and then looks at me with a plastered smile. Jonathan promptly leaves in search of food and I contemplate what would be worse. Trying to follow him or stay. I steal a glance at Audrey-Rose but she has a smile dancing on her face.

“So Mr. Cresswell, my son has been telling me a bit about you, what is it you do again?”

“I'm a scientist sir.” His face drops and I look at Audrey Rose.

“Surely a man of your title would pursue something other than that?”

“Science isn't about titles sir, it's just the pursuit of knowledge. You must want to know how things work, how things are made. I enjoy learning about the body, the world and how it works.” He narrows his eyes slightly and I feel as though I'm on a tightrope; any wrong word and he will push me off. Mr. Wadsworth looks at his daughter for a second before returning his attention back to his son. Once again I steal a glance at Audrey Rose and hers in on her own glass. So her father dislikes her pursuit of science. So he dislikes me too. I try and hide my contemptment and so I tap the table trying to get her attention and she looks up at me and I give her a warm smile, just for her. Only ever for her. She returns the sentiment and all I want to do is envelop her in a hug and tell her it is okay to want to pursue science.

We remain in silence, I wonder whether I should go back to my own table but I cannot seem to be able to. Jonathan Wadsworth returns, taking a seat beside me. He is silent for some time so I speak before I begin bouncing my leg up and down.

“Would it be okay for me to attend your school sir?” I look at his face and it reveals nothing.

“Yes,” I sigh in relief, perhaps if I show my abilities there he will offer me an apprenticeship. I hear Audrey Rose also sigh, but for a different reason. I assume she has had no luck in being able to attend, and all it took was me asking. “On one condition,” Jonathan interrupts my thoughts, “you must stop working for Mr. Douglas.” It's a fair condition, he cannot have someone learning his theories on the crime and have them report back to someone. I consider asking to allow Audrey Rose to join me as my own stipulation but don't want to push my luck. Yet. I will ask in the future.

“Of course.” Tomorrow I shall resign, then make sure I spend lunch with Audrey Rose and discuss helping her attend the school. Not that she needs help, but I'm sure just offering her my assistance and giving her the choice to use it will be beneficial to her.

I return back to my table, albeit very reluctantly, and give some information to Mr. Douglas. I choose to ignore the surprise on his face over the fact I have some, despite me having had it for over a week now. I choose to ignore the look he gives Audrey Rose too. That is until I follow his now frowning gaze to where she is storming out of the room. He goes to stand, as though he could ever help, so I wave a hand at him and casually walk out after her. I find her nearer the edge of the garden, hands running over her arms and tears threatening to spill.

“Miss. Wadsworth, is everything okay?” Cautiously I stand just behind her, ready to leave her if she asks to be alone; but she lets out a joyless laugh and spins to look at me.

“Perfect, Mr. Cresswell. I am a woman in this absurd society so I must not dare think about anything remotely masculine. I must not be able to pick who I love but have my father arrange it without informing me.” The words she spits at me bite worse than the cold seeping into my bones.

“Audrey Ro-”

“Blackburn. He chose Blackburn. He was never nice to me to be my friend, but because of him and my fathers scheming. If he hadn't been he would not have been this nice to me. I know I am not exactly the nicest person and that my interests disgust society but it was nice to have a friend.” She whispers the last part as though it pains her too. It pains me to hear it.

“Am I not your friend Audrey Rose?” The attempt at a joke is abysmal and I curse in my head at how bad I am at interacting with people, especially those I love.

“You are but you're different, you, I don't need to try with you Thomas. I have to try with everyone but you.” I dare a step towards her and her eyes meet mine. We needn't say a thing for us to understand each other.

“Wadsworth, I find it easy with you too. More than I even understand. This world is cruel and I wish more than anything to make it better for you, for it to be better in general. I- my father long ago gave up trying to marry me off, deeming me worthless and unable to love, and I still cannot figure out which is worse.” My voice becomes hoarse as I take her gloved hand in mine. “You are worth more to society than they realise, so please keep fighting for your freedom. I will forever remain your friend if that is what you wish to happen, to help you figure this world out.” I'll be more than your friend if you wish that too. I fail to add. Her hand tightens on mine and I fail to breathe properly.

“Thomas,” she breathes out, it caresses me slightly, her voice smooth and sure, “you are not unlovable, your father is a fool. An utter fool. I want you by my side always, I fear I couldn't do this without you.” Closer she comes, impossible so, and I fear I may have to think about anything menial so I do not kiss her and inevitably ruin this. “What if, what if it was more than friends though?” Her question is hesitant, and my heart stops dead. We may have kissed, may have flirted, but a part of me never considered she reciprocated my feelings. “I- I’m sorry.” She stammers, taking a step back, misjudging my silent shock. I wince and keep her hand in mine. Her own shock widens on her face and I speak before she can beat me to it.

“Wadsworth I'd like that too.”

There is a second of silence as it sinks in. “You would?”

“More than anything. I care deeply about you. I shall court you like a proper gentleman if that is what you wish” I return to how we stood seconds ago as she snorts at my statement.

“You are anything but a gentleman Cresswell.” The smile returns on her face as we both laugh. “It may be my favourite thing about you.” I flash her a devilish smile.

“I am fully aware, love, that you love the scandalousness of my words. Would you like to go back inside or return home, I am sure I can get us a carriage to share.”

“Us? Thomas you do not live with me.”

“Yet.” I add. She rolls her eyes but does not disagree. “It would be ungentlemanly to let you return home alone; and purly scandalous to be in close quarters with you.” I wink as she retreats from me to where the carriages are.

“Very well, you may escort me home. From a distance.” She adds with narrowed eyes and I laugh at her implications but follow her nonetheless. I follow her into what seems like a new life, new hopes, ones I never thought possible. Her dress swishes around her, sweeping around her ankles at her light steps. The green gems twinkle against the lamplights, her hair cascading down her back, covering the slight cut of the dress, hiding her skin. Devastating. Utterly captivating. Her footsteps stop as she realizes I have not moved. She turns to face me, brows furrowed. I blink and brush away my thoughts to follow her.

“Are you alright?” She asks, falling into step with me.

“Yes of course, I get to leave with the most dazzling woman at the party.”

We link arms, pay for a carriage and start to head towards Audrey Roses’ house. We sit across from each other, but the carriage is small, and I happen to have quite long legs that are deliberately stretched out to brush against hers. I catch her trying not to stare at me so I nudge her and slowly she looks at me. “I am still watching for that kiss, Wadsworth.”

She blinks and I raise my eyebrows at her new forming blush. She had not listened to what I said at all. “Wadsworth?” I ask and she hums a response shaking her head slightly.

“Cresswell?”

“My kiss? I am still waiting for it.”

Her brows furrowed in confusion then her eyes widened as she processed the words. I lean forward, even as doubt pricks at my mind that she doesn't want to kiss me and will throw me out of the carriage if I move any closer to her. But she doesn't allow those thoughts to take over me completely as she leans in too and her lips meet mine. Warmth fills me, as we press closer together, my hand holds her knee and tightens as she deepens the kiss slightly. The kiss is gentle, soft and somehow better than the first one. The one before had been rushed, a kiss to convey how much we were thankful neither one of us was hurt. This kiss held promise, one I fully intended to keep. I hold my best friend closely for a second longer before I pull back, I search for any doubt in her eyes but find none. I only find adoration in her bright green eyes, her flushed cheeks and slightly bruised mouth. No regret. No hesitancy. So I press a small kiss on her lips and lean back so we can regain our composure before we leave the carriage.

“I should save you from boring events more often if it means kissing you like that.” Her answering smile leads me to believe that she'd like that too.

(i love writing dramatic Thomas)

i am working on the asks sent, i have plans and ideas for them so watch on in the next few weeks for them. i also have a feysand idea that i want to do

tages: @fangirling-again (thank you for editing) @city-of-fae @the-hoofflepooff @padfoot-sirius-black @goatahoan @kittycat2187 @loveyatopluto @goddess-of-writing @yikesitsmaddie @lovecakeandmore @boredbookwormgirl

#sjtr #hpd #efh #ctd #cressworth #cresswell #thomas cresswell #Audrey Rose #audrey rose wadsworth #stalking jack the ripper #hunting prince dracula #escaping from houdini #capturing the devil

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